#and that bit about the enchanted forest!!

[vir-tanadahl]

Rating: (E) Pairing: Solas / Lavellan / Felassan Summary: Under moonlight and magic, Felassan shares enchanted drinks with Solas and Lavellan—potions meant to relax and open the heart. Playful teasing and warm laughter give way to lingering glances and an undeniable connection. As boundaries blur and affection deepens, the trio’s night unfolds into something tender, intimate, and passionately shared.

In the heart of the wilderness, a secluded glade shimmered with ethereal light, its magic humming faintly through the trees. The air was crisp and filled with the earthy scents of the forest, mingling with the faint, tantalizing aroma of something sweeter—Felassan’s handiwork. The ancient elf, ever the playful enigma, lounged beside a small table adorned with a selection of drinks that shimmered like liquid starlight, their colors shifting with an almost hypnotic allure.

“Well,” Felassan began, his grin as sharp as ever, “since we’re all here and the night is young, I thought it only fitting to share something... special.” He gestured grandly to the drinks before them, each glowing faintly with its own magical essence. “A bit of alchemy and artistry, if I do say so myself. They’re harmless, I assure you—just a little magic to loosen the tongue and lighten the spirit. Nothing too scandalous. Unless you want it to be.” His gaze flicked to Solas, the smirk deepening. “You could use some loosening up, oh mighty Dread Wolf. Drink up.”

Solas arched an eyebrow but didn’t immediately rise to the bait. Instead, he studied the shimmering drinks with a skeptical tilt of his head. “And what, precisely, do these concoctions do?” he asked, his tone even, though the faintest hint of curiosity edged his words.

“Ah, excellent question!” Felassan clapped his hands together as if delighted to explain. “Each has a unique effect, tailored to your tastes, of course. The golden one eases tension—like sunshine in a bottle. The silver sharpens perception, perfect for those who enjoy seeing through all the little lies. Ruby sparks boldness, encouraging the kind of honest conversation we all secretly crave. And the amethyst? A gentle, comforting embrace in drink form. You’re welcome.”

Lavellan sat between the two elves, her curiosity warring with a flicker of wariness. She leaned forward slightly, the shimmering hues reflecting in her wide eyes. “And you’re sure it’s safe? Not that I doubt your skills, Felassan, but—”

“Completely safe, my dear Herald,” he interrupted smoothly. “I’d never dream of causing you harm. Just think of it as... a nudge toward fun.” He selected a ruby-hued drink and handed it to her with a flourish. “For you, something to bring out that playful spark I know is hiding in there somewhere. And for you, Solas—” He picked up a golden glass, its contents glowing softly, and thrust it toward the other elf. “Something to make you slightly less insufferable. Drink. Please.”

Solas’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “You are insistent.”

“And you are overdue for a good time,” Felassan countered. “Now, humor me.”

With a rare chuckle, Solas took the glass, its warmth seeping into his hand. Lavellan, emboldened by their exchange, lifted her own drink. “To loosening up?” she suggested, her tone light but teasing.

“To lightening the spirit,” Felassan amended, raising his glass in a mock toast. Solas rolled his eyes but clinked his glass against theirs, the glow of the drinks illuminating their faces as the first sip brought with it a rush of magic—subtle but undeniably enchanting. The night unfolded with laughter, teasing, and the kind of openness that only the strange and wonderful could inspire.

The first sip was a gentle nudge rather than a push, a whisper of warmth unfurling in their chests. The tension in Solas’s shoulders eased almost imperceptibly, his ever-watchful gaze softening around the edges. Lavellan, tucked between the two elves, let out a laugh—light and unguarded—as Felassan recounted some exaggerated tale about his supposed misadventures. It was a sound that carried through the glade, like a bell chime breaking through lingering dusk. Felassan’s grin only widened at the effect, his sharp violet eyes flicking between them with obvious satisfaction.

“You’re smiling, Solas,” Lavellan noted, her tone teasing but softer than usual, emboldened by the ruby-hued drink in her hand. “I was starting to think your face might crack if you tried.”

Solas arched an eyebrow, his lips twitching upward in response. “Contrary to your assumption, my face is perfectly capable of enduring the strain of joy.”

“Creator’s breath, you’re both intolerable,” Felassan drawled, lounging back on one elbow as if he were reclining on a throne. He raised his glass in mock salute. “But I must admit, this is already my finest work. My artistry unmatched. You’re welcome.”

The banter flowed as easily as the enchanted drinks, and with every sip, the trio leaned further into the comfort of the moment. Felassan, predictably, was the first to let loose a scandalous tale—something about mistaken identity, a noblewoman, and a very inopportune use of illusion magic. Lavellan nearly choked on her drink from laughing, while Solas, against all odds, let out a low chuckle that reverberated through the glade like a rare and precious sound.

When Lavellan spoke next, her voice carried the weight of something more sincere. “You know, Felassan,” she began, swirling the remnants of ruby light in her glass, “you make it look so easy—this... lightness you bring to every moment. I envy it sometimes.” She paused before glancing at Solas, her gaze steady and unflinching. “And you... you have this way of seeing everything, of making even the most fleeting thought feel like it matters. It’s... it’s rare.”

Solas blinked, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability in her voice. The golden glow of his drink reflected in his pale eyes as he considered his response. “You are stronger than most would believe, Lavellan,” he said finally, his words quiet but clear. “Steady, even when the world seeks to shake you apart.”

The weight of the moment lingered between them, charged with something neither fleeting nor insubstantial. Felassan, perceptive as always, chose not to shatter it immediately. Instead, he took a long sip from his silver-hued drink, his gaze thoughtful beneath his ever-present smirk.

Magic buzzed faintly in their veins, sharpening every sensation. When Lavellan’s hand brushed against Solas’s as she reached for the bottle, the touch lingered a moment longer than necessary, and the warmth of it seemed to sink deep beneath her skin. Solas’s eyes caught hers then, lingering—not in analysis, not in the quiet distance he usually maintained, but with something raw and unguarded. Felassan noticed, of course, but rather than interrupt, he conjured a soft hum in the air—a resonance that seemed to vibrate in their very bones, warm and inviting. The firelight flared gently, casting long shadows and painting their faces in amber and gold.

But Felassan was not one to let such tension hang forever. “Careful, you two,” he said, voice low but teasing. “You might start thinking this moment actually means something.”

The spell broke with a startled laugh from Lavellan, and Solas’s lips curved in something close to fond exasperation. The tension shifted—not gone, but softened, threaded now with a playful warmth that felt safer, easier to hold.

The air in the glade had grown heavier, thick with the glow of enchanted drinks and the lingering hum of Felassan's quiet magic. The golden light of the fire painted their faces in soft amber hues, shadows dancing along the curves of their expressions. Lavellan reached out without thinking, her fingers brushing lightly against the sleeve of Solas’s tunic as if to dust away something invisible. Her hand hesitated there, fingertips grazing the edge of his wrist, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to that single point of contact. Solas didn’t pull away. His sharp eyes met hers, steady and questioning, but not unkind.

Felassan leaned forward with a grin that was both amused and entirely too knowing. “If you’re going to touch him like that, da’len, at least make it interesting. You’re killing me with the suspense.”

Lavellan pulled her hand back with a laugh, her cheeks warming despite herself. Solas’s mouth twitched upward at the corner, a flicker of a smile there and gone, but the moment lingered, suspended between them like starlight caught in glass.

“Truly,” Felassan continued, his voice softer now as he shifted closer. One hand came to rest lightly over Lavellan’s, the other brushing Solas’s shoulder in a casual but deliberate gesture. “You two are so serious. So... careful. Perhaps I should show you how to really enjoy yourselves.”

There was no denying the thread of sincerity beneath the teasing lilt of his voice. The connection between them was tangible now—a thread pulled taut, vibrating with unspoken words and fragile possibilities. Felassan’s violet eyes flickered with mischief as he leaned back just enough to let the weight of the moment settle.

“Fine,” he said after a beat, fingers tapping against his glass. “Let’s make this more... interesting. A question for each of you. Answer honestly, or I’ll be forced to tell you another one of my stories, and believe me, I have some particularly embarrassing ones lined up.”

Lavellan arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a wry smile. “You already sound insufferable.”

“Thank you, my dear. Now, Solas.” Felassan turned his gaze on him with predatory delight. “If you could paint the perfect scene right now, what would it look like? And don’t be boring. No dusty ruins or melancholy sunsets.”

Solas blinked, the question disarming in its intimacy. He hesitated for a breath before speaking, his voice low but clear. “It would look... something like this. But perhaps the fire would burn a little brighter, the stars a little clearer, and the company would remain... unchanged.”

For once, Felassan didn’t offer a retort. Instead, he let the weight of Solas’s words settle like dew on morning leaves.

“Excellent answer,” Felassan said softly before pushing to his feet with the grace of a predator. “Now, how about something a little more... kinetic? There’s a spell—a harmless one, I assure you—that I’ve been meaning to try. Think of it as a dance. Or, if you prefer, an exercise in trust.”

With a flourish, Felassan conjured faint threads of light from his fingertips—wisps of golden and silver energy that curled and danced in the air like smoke caught in a breeze. He offered one glowing thread to Lavellan and another to Solas. “Take them. And trust me.”

They exchanged wary glances but obeyed. The threads pulsed faintly in their hands, and as Felassan began to move—his steps fluid and deliberate—the threads guided them in turn. Solas and Lavellan found themselves drawn closer, their movements synchronized by the faint hum of magic and Felassan’s careful choreography.

At first, it was awkward—hesitant glances, stifled laughter, and clumsy steps. But soon, the rhythm smoothed out, their bodies finding a natural harmony. Lavellan’s hand brushed Solas’s again, and this time neither of them pulled away. Their fingers laced together briefly before parting as the threads of light pulled them into another spin. Felassan watched them with quiet satisfaction, his grin softer now, his eyes sharp and knowing.

But then, the thread of magic stilled. Lavellan hesitated mid-step, her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at Solas. His gaze was fixed on her, steady and unguarded, his expression stripped of its usual layers of distance and restraint. The moment trembled between them, delicate as glass.

“I—” Lavellan began, her voice faltering.

Felassan stepped closer then, his presence grounding them both as he placed a gentle hand on each of their shoulders. “It’s all right,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that was almost protective. “You don’t have to be afraid of this. Not here. Not tonight.”

The fragile tension cracked, but not in a way that shattered. Instead, it unraveled slowly, gently, until Lavellan leaned forward, her forehead coming to rest against Solas’s chest. Solas’s hand came up hesitantly, fingers brushing against her hair before resting there, light as falling leaves.

The magic in the glade had changed—subtle yet undeniable, like the air just before a summer storm. The drinks in their hands shimmered faintly, their light reflecting in Lavellan's eyes as if starlight itself had pooled there. The sensation of the ruby wine lingered on her lips, a faint sweetness paired with something more ephemeral—like the distant echo of a kiss. Each sip deepened the enchantment, the magic winding through their veins, quiet and insistent, attuned to their unspoken thoughts.

Solas, seated beside her, seemed acutely aware of every shift of Lavellan’s posture, every soft breath she took. His gaze lingered, tracing the way the light caught in the strands of her hair, how her shoulders relaxed, how her fingers curled gently around her glass. He noticed everything, and for once, he made no effort to mask it. Across from them, Felassan’s sharp violet eyes were alight with mischief, but there was something else there too—something deeper, more perceptive. He saw them both, not just as they presented themselves but as they were—unguarded, unmasked, fragile and raw.

With a casual flick of his wrist, Felassan summoned faint tendrils of light from the surface of their drinks. They floated lazily upward, shimmering like fireflies. One curled around Lavellan’s fingers, tickling her skin with a soft, electric hum before drifting away to graze against Solas’s wrist. Lavellan’s breath hitched as the light scattered with her movement, leaving behind faint traces—tiny stars in her wake.

“Magic is just energy, you know,” Felassan said lightly, his voice carrying a lazy warmth. “It reacts to intention. Want to see?”

Before either of them could answer, Felassan gestured again, and light gathered around Lavellan’s shoulders, soft and golden. It coalesced into ephemeral petals—delicate, glowing flowers that tumbled gently to the ground before vanishing in faint puffs of stardust. Lavellan let out a quiet laugh, her voice edged with wonder as her fingers brushed against the fading glow.

Solas tilted his head, watching Felassan’s display. After a moment, he raised his hand, his fingers moving with deliberate care as a faint ripple of Fade energy flowed outward. It was subtler than Felassan’s magic, deeper, warmer—it wrapped around Lavellan like an invisible embrace, sinking into her skin, into her bones.

“The Fade responds to emotion,” Solas said softly, his voice low, reverent. “It mirrors what we feel but cannot say aloud.”

Around them, faint shadows rippled in hues of soft blue and silver, dancing like silk caught in a breeze. The air felt heavier, charged with something indescribable—something shared. Lavellan’s breath caught as her eyes met Solas’s, and for a moment, the world narrowed down to the space between them.

Emboldened by the drink and the magic humming in her veins, Lavellan raised her own hand. Green light sparked at her fingertips, bright and alive, crackling softly as it leaped outward. It reached toward Solas’s and Felassan’s magic, interweaving with gold and blue until it became something else entirely—something uniquely their own. The lights cocooned around them, soft and protective, shimmering with threads of shared energy that pulsed faintly in time with their heartbeats.

In the intimate glow of their combined magic, the trio had drawn closer without realizing it. Lavellan’s knee brushed against Solas’s thigh, and neither of them moved away. Felassan, ever watchful, rested his arm along the back of Lavellan’s seat, his fingertips tracing idle patterns along her shoulder. The touch was casual—effortless—but it carried weight, intention, the faint crackle of magic beneath his skin.

Felassan tilted his head, his grin sharp but softened by something else—something gentler. “Look at you two,” he said softly, his voice a murmur in the quiet. “Like moths circling a flame. What are you so afraid of?”

The words hung suspended in the air as Felassan shifted closer, his face only inches from Lavellan’s. For a fleeting moment, time seemed to stop—her breath caught, her heart stumbled—but then Felassan pulled back with a teasing grin, leaving the tension in his wake to crackle like distant lightning.

Solas’s hand brushed against Lavellan’s wrist then, his fingers lingering longer than they needed to. A faint ripple of magic passed between them, feather-light but undeniable. When she turned to meet his gaze, his eyes were steady, open in a way they rarely were.

The space between them felt fragile, shimmering with unspoken words and the weight of what could be. Lavellan’s breath trembled in her chest, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words came.

Felassan leaned back, his watchful gaze softer now, as though he were content to simply bear witness to whatever came next. The magic still shimmered faintly in the air, the drinks forgotten beside them as the quiet hum of shared connection held them suspended in time.

The magic lingered in the glade, alive and breathing, as though the very air had become a living thing attuned to their emotions. The drinks, long forgotten, sat half-empty at their sides, their glow fading into the richer, more vibrant light that now pulsed softly between them. Felassan moved first, his violet eyes glinting like sunlight through honey as he lifted his hand and conjured something delicate—a breeze, warm and scented faintly of summer rain. It drifted over Lavellan’s skin, soft as silk, sending a shiver down her spine. Her breath caught, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as the sensation washed over her.

Solas stirred beside her, his own magic rising in response—a soft hum, a pulse that resonated from somewhere deep within him. He extended his hand toward Lavellan’s palm, his magic brushing lightly against hers, tentative and seeking, asking for permission rather than taking. His gaze met hers then, pale and luminous, reflecting the soft glow of their combined enchantments. Lavellan tilted her head, her lips parting slightly, and she turned her hand upward to meet his.

The connection sparked—subtle but undeniable—as Solas’s magic intertwined with Felassan’s, forming tendrils of shimmering light that curled around their wrists and twined up their arms like ivy. Lavellan could feel it in her chest, a quiet thrumming that echoed in her ribcage, as though her heartbeat had fallen into step with theirs. Their breaths aligned, rising and falling in perfect unison, and for one suspended moment, it felt as if time itself had stilled.

Felassan’s usual smirk had softened into something more thoughtful, his hand still lifted, his magic pulsing faintly in the air. Slowly, the light around them dimmed—not fading entirely, but settling, as though it, too, was waiting. His voice, when it came, was steady and clear, carrying the weight of both wisdom and vulnerability.

“We can stop here,” he said softly, the teasing edge gone from his tone. “No magic, no illusions—just honesty. But if we go forward…” His words trailed off, leaving space for the choice to linger in the quiet between them.

Solas’s voice joined his, low and reverent, carrying an earnestness that seemed to cut through the very air. “Only if you’re certain, vhenan.”

Lavellan’s breath trembled as she exhaled, her gaze flitting between the two elves before settling on Solas. There was no hesitation in her eyes, only clarity and warmth. She nodded, her voice steady as she spoke.

“I am.”

The word settled over them like a key turning in a lock, like the final piece of a puzzle sliding into place. The magic flared again—not wild, not overwhelming, but steady and warm, like an embrace. It wove between them in silken threads of gold, blue, and green, binding them together not through force but through intention.

The glade fell into silence once more, but it was not empty. It was filled with breath, with shared energy, with a fragile, intimate understanding that shimmered in the space between their entwined hands and softly glowing eyes. For now, in this fleeting moment, they existed together—unmasked, unguarded, and held in the quiet sanctuary of each other’s presence.

The magic pulsed between them, a living thing that seemed to breathe with their own quickening breaths. Lavellan felt it like a caress against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. She leaned into the sensation, her body swaying slightly as if moved by an unseen current.

Felassan was the first to close the distance, his movements fluid and deliberate. He cupped Lavellan's face in his hands, his violet eyes searching hers for a moment before he leaned in. The kiss was soft at first, exploratory, but it quickly deepened as Lavellan responded with a quiet gasp. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as his tongue traced the seam of her lips.

Solas watched, his pale eyes darkening with a mix of desire and something deeper, more complex. His hand found the small of Lavellan's back, steadying her as Felassan's kiss left her breathless. When they parted, Lavellan turned to Solas, her lips parted and flushed.

Without a word, Solas drew her to him, one hand cradling the nape of her neck as he claimed her mouth with his own. Where Felassan had been playful, Solas was intense, pouring years of longing and regret into the kiss. Lavellan moaned softly, her fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic.

From behind, Felassan slowly began pulling up the skirt of her robe. His nimble fingers traced delicate patterns along Lavellan's thighs as he slowly gathered the fabric of her robe. The magic hummed through his touch, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever his skin met hers. Lavellan shivered, pressing closer to Solas as the sensations washed over her.

Solas deepened the kiss, one hand tangling in Lavellan's hair while the other roamed her body. He swallowed her quiet gasps and whimpers as Felassan's hands inched higher, caressing newly exposed skin. The air grew thick with desire, magic crackling between them like electricity before a storm.

Felassan leaned in, his breath hot against Lavellan's ear as he whispered words of encouragement. His lips brushed her neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder as he eased the robe down her arms. Lavellan arched into the touch, breaking her kiss with Solas to let out a breathy moan.

Solas's eyes were dark with want as he took in the sight before him. His hands found the clasps of Lavellan's bodice, deftly unfastening them. Together, they slowly unveiled her body, their touches reverent and filled with barely restrained passion.

Solas and Felassan's eyes met over Lavellan's shoulder, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. The air crackled with shared desire and unspoken understanding. Solas's fingers traced along Lavellan's collarbone, his touch feather-light yet electrifying.

"How adventurous are you feeling, vhenan?" Solas asked, his voice low and husky.

Lavellan's breath caught in her throat. "Very adventurous," she replied, her words barely more than a whisper.

At her words, Felassan's lips curved into a knowing smile. With a graceful gesture, he conjured a shimmering veil of magic that as it settled over her eyes, the world around her dimmed and blurred.

Colors melted into hazy shapes, but every sensation seemed magnified tenfold. The whisper of breath against her skin sent shivers down her spine. The brush of fingers along her arms left trails of tingling warmth. Even the subtle shifts in the air currents became noticeable, caressing her naked flesh.

Lavellan gasped as hands - she couldn't tell whose - began exploring her body with slowness. Lips pressed against her neck, teeth grazing her collarbone.

Lavellan's senses heightened as the magical veil obscured her vision. Every touch, every whisper of breath against her skin sent waves of sensation coursing through her body. She shivered as unseen hands caressed her, teasing and exploring.

Solas's voice came low and husky in her ear. "Trust us, vhenan. Let yourself feel." His lips brushed her neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

From behind, Felassan's clever fingers traced patterns along her spine, each touch leaving trails of tingling magic in their wake. "So beautiful," he murmured. "So responsive."

They guided her gently to her knees, their bodies pressed close on either side. Lavellan's breath quickened as hands roamed her flesh - one set rough and calloused, the other smooth and nimble. She couldn't tell which belonged to whom, heightening her arousal.

A warm palm cupped her breast, thumb circling her nipple as lips found the other. Lavellan arched into the touch with a soft moan. Fingers tangled in her hair, tugging gently to expose her throat. She felt the scrape of teeth, the soothing swipe of a tongue.

"Tell us what you want," Solas commanded softly.

Before she could answer, Felassan's hand slipped between her thighs. "Or perhaps we should simply take what we desire," he purred.

Lavellan gasped as Felassan's fingers found her most sensitive spots, teasing and stroking with expert precision. Solas captured her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans as pleasure built within her. The two elves worked in tandem, their touches alternating between gentle caresses and firm grasps that left her trembling.

"So wet for us already," Felassan murmured approvingly, his clever fingers circling her entrance. "Shall we see how much more you can take?"

Solas broke the kiss, his breath hot against her ear. "Remember, vhenan - you need only say the word if it becomes too much."

Lavellan nodded wordlessly, beyond speech as sensations overwhelmed her. She felt herself being lowered onto something soft - a bed of moss, perhaps, conjured by magic. Hands grasped her thighs, spreading her wide. She whimpered at the feeling of exposure, heightened by her magical blindness.

A warm mouth descended on her breast as fingers teased her folds. Lavellan arched into the touch with a cry of pleasure. She felt the brush of Fade magic against her skin, heightening every sensation tenfold.

"Please," she gasped. "I need..."

"Patience, da'len," Felassan chided playfully. His tongue traced a path along her inner thigh. "We have all night to explore."

Felassan's lips curved into a mischievous smile as he traced intricate patterns along Lavellan's skin. His fingertips glowed with a soft violet light as he whispered an incantation. "May I cast a spell to enhance our connection?" he asked softly. "It won't compel you, only amplify what you already desire."

Lavellan nodded, her breath catching as she felt the magic settle over her like a warm blanket. A subtle hum resonated in her mind, barely perceptible but unmistakably there.

"Good," Solas murmured, his voice low and rich. As he spoke, Lavellan felt a gentle tug in her mind, urging her to listen. "Now relax and let go."

The suggestion washed over her, and Lavellan found herself sinking deeper into the moss beneath her. Her muscles loosened, tension melting away as she surrendered to their touch.

Felassan's fingers danced along her inner thighs, inching higher with teasing slowness. "Spread your legs wider for us," he coaxed. The words were accompanied by that same soft pull in her mind, and Lavellan found herself eagerly complying.

A pleased hum rumbled in Solas's chest as he cupped her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples. "So responsive," he praised. "Let us hear your pleasure, vhenan."

Solas's voice came low and hypnotic, each word seeming to resonate through Lavellan's entire being. "Let yourself sink deeper into bliss," he murmured. "Feel every touch magnified, every sensation heightened."

As he spoke, Lavellan felt a gentle tug in her mind, as if his words were silk threads drawing her consciousness along. She found herself eagerly following that pull, her body growing more sensitive with each passing moment. Every brush of skin against skin sent sparks of pleasure coursing through her.

"That's it," Solas praised softly. "Let go of all thought, all worry. There is only sensation now."

His hands skimmed along her sides, leaving trails of tingling warmth in their wake. Lavellan arched into the touch with a breathy moan, her inhibitions melting away. She felt herself becoming more pliant, more eager to please.

"You want to obey," Solas continued, his voice a velvety caress. "To surrender completely to our desires. It would feel so good to let go, wouldn't it?"

Lavellan nodded eagerly, beyond speech as waves of arousal washed over her. That subtle pull in her mind grew stronger, wrapping around her thoughts like a comforting embrace. She wanted nothing more than to follow where it led.

"Tell us what you want," Solas commanded gently. "Speak your deepest desires aloud."

Felassan's lips curved into a wicked grin as he lifted his hands, violet light dancing between his fingers. With a graceful gesture, shimmering tendrils of magic materialized in the air, glowing with an otherworldly radiance. They moved with fluid, serpentine grace, coiling gently around Lavellan's wrists and ankles.

The magical bonds were impossibly soft, like silk against her skin, yet unyielding. They hummed with energy, a gentle vibration that sent pleasurable tingles through her limbs. As Lavellan tested their strength, she found she could move slightly - enough to arch her back or shift her hips - but not enough to break free.

"Perfect," Felassan purred, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Now you're at our mercy, da'len."

The tendrils seemed to have a mind of their own, tightening and loosening in response to Lavellan's movements. When she strained against them, they held firm. But when she relaxed, they gentled their grip, caressing her skin with feather-light touches.

Solas ran his hand along one of the glowing bonds, causing it to flare brighter. Lavellan gasped as a wave of sensation washed over her, the magic resonating through her entire body.

Solas's eyes darkened as he gazed down at Lavellan, her body arched and trembling beneath their touch. His voice was low and commanding as he spoke. "Open your mouth for me, vhenan."

The words seemed to resonate through Lavellan's entire being. That subtle tug in her mind became more insistent, urging her to obey. Without hesitation, her lips parted, her jaw going slack as she eagerly complied with his request.

"Good girl," Solas praised softly, his thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip. "So obedient, so eager to please."

Lavellan felt a rush of warmth at his words, a deep sense of satisfaction at having pleased him. The magical bonds hummed against her skin, sending pulses of pleasure through her body with each subtle movement.

Solas leaned down, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered, "Keep your mouth open, just like that. Don't close it until I give you permission."

Lavellan whimpered softly but didn't move, her lips remaining parted as commanded. She felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in the most exquisite way. The cool night air caressed her tongue, heightening her awareness of every sensation.

Felassan chuckled softly, his fingers dancing along her inner thigh. "Look at her, trembling with need. Shall we see how long she can maintain that pretty pose.”

Felassan's fingers traced teasing patterns along Lavellan's inner thighs as she trembled with need, her mouth still obediently open at Solas's command. The magical bonds hummed against her skin, sending waves of pleasure through her with each subtle movement.

"Such restraint," Felassan murmured approvingly. "Let's see how long you can maintain it."

His clever fingers finally found her center, stroking her slick folds with feather-light touches. Lavellan's hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more pressure, but the bonds held her in place. She whimpered softly, her breath coming in quick pants.

Solas watched intently, his eyes dark with desire. "Remember, vhenan," he said softly. "Keep your mouth open. Don't close it until I give permission."

Lavellan nodded minutely, struggling to obey as Felassan's ministrations intensified. He slipped two fingers inside her, curling them expertly to stroke her most sensitive spots. His thumb circled her clit in maddeningly slow circles.

Solas gazed down at Lavellan, her lips still parted obediently. His eyes burned with barely restrained passion as he slowly unlaced his breeches. "You've been so good," he murmured. "I think you deserve a reward."

He positioned himself before her, the tip of his arousal barely brushing her lips. Lavellan's breath quickened, her tongue darting out to wet her lips in anticipation. Solas groaned softly at the brief contact.

"Take me in your mouth," he commanded gently. "Slowly now."

Lavellan eagerly complied, parting her lips wider to accept him. She slid her mouth over his length inch by inch, savoring his taste and the weight of him on her tongue. Solas's fingers tangled in her hair, guiding her movements.

"That's it," he praised. "Just like that. Now close your lips around me and suck."

Lavellan hummed in pleasure as she followed his instructions, hollowing her cheeks as she began to work her mouth along his shaft. Solas's breath hitched, his grip on her hair tightening.

Meanwhile, Felassan continued his exquisite torture between her thighs. His clever fingers stroked and teased, building her arousal to a fever pitch. He traced lazy circles around her clit, occasionally dipping lower to tease her entrance.

"So wet," Felassan purred.

Lavellan whimpered around Solas's length, torn between the dual sensations of fullness in her mouth and the growing ache between her legs.

Solas's eyes flashed with intensity as he gazed down at Lavellan, her lips wrapped around his length. He could feel the subtle vibrations of her whimpers, could see the way her body trembled with need. His voice was low and commanding as he spoke.

"Listen closely, vhenan," he murmured, the words seeming to resonate through Lavellan's entire being. "You will not find release until I give you permission. No matter how desperately you crave it, you will hold back your pleasure until I allow it."

As he spoke, Lavellan felt that familiar tug in her mind, stronger now than ever before. The compulsion settled over her like a warm blanket, seeping into her very core. She nodded minutely, her eyes wide with a mixture of arousal and anticipation.

Solas's fingers tightened in her hair, guiding her movements as she continued to pleasure him with her mouth. "Good girl," he praised softly. "Now, I want you to show us just how much you want this. Move your hips for Felassan. Let him see how desperately you need his touch."

Without conscious thought, Lavellan found herself obeying. Her hips began to roll and undulate, seeking more contact with Felassan's teasing fingers. The magical bonds shifted with her movements, sending pulses of pleasure through her limbs.

Felassan chuckled appreciatively, his fingers danced along Lavellan's slick folds as she writhed beneath his touch, her hips moving in desperate undulations. The magical bonds shimmered and pulsed, sending waves of tingling sensation through her limbs with each movement. Though her eyes remained covered by the illusory blindfold, her other senses were heightened to an almost unbearable degree.

"Such eagerness," Felassan purred, his breath hot against her inner thigh. "I can feel how badly you want this."

His clever tongue replaced his fingers, tracing intricate patterns along her sensitive flesh. Lavellan cried out around Solas's length, her back arching as far as the bonds would allow. The dual sensations of Solas filling her mouth and Felassan's exquisite torture between her legs threatened to overwhelm her completely.

Solas's grip on her hair tightened, his hips rocking in a steady rhythm as he slid deeper into the wet heat of her mouth. "Focus, vhenan," he commanded softly. "Remember my instructions. You are not to come until I allow it."

Lavellan whimpered, torn between the desperate need for release and her desire to obey. She redoubled her efforts, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked Solas with renewed vigor. Her tongue swirled around his shaft, tracing the thick vein on the underside before flicking over the sensitive head.

Felassan pulled his mouth away, his thumb circled her clit in maddeningly slow circles. "I can feel you clenching around my fingers," he murmured. "So close already. But you can't come yet, can you? Not until our Wolf gives you permission.”

Solas's eyes darkened as he gazed down at Lavellan, her lips still wrapped around him. His voice was low and hypnotic as he spoke. "You're doing so well, vhenan. But I want more from you. I want you to show us just how desperate you are."

The compulsion in his words seemed to sink into Lavellan's very bones. Though her eyes remained covered by the shimmering blindfold, she could feel the weight of their gazes on her exposed flesh. Her body trembled with need, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

"Arch your back," Solas commanded softly. "Present yourself to us."

Without hesitation, Lavellan obeyed. Her spine curved, pushing her breasts forward and tilting her hips. The magical bonds shifted with her movement, sending tingles of pleasure along her limbs.

Felassan hummed appreciatively, his fingers never ceasing their torturous exploration. "Such a lovely sight," he purred. "So eager, so willing."

Solas's grip on her hair tightened as he began to move more forcefully, sliding deeper into the wet heat of her mouth. "Take me deeper," he growled. "Show me how much you want to please me."

Lavellan whimpered around his length, struggling to relax her throat as she took him in. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but the pain only heightened her arousal.

Solas's eyes blazed with intensity as he gazed down at Lavellan. His voice was low and hypnotic as he issued his next command: "I want to hear you beg, vhenan. Tell us how desperately you need release. How you ache to be filled, to be claimed. Let us hear the depth of your desire."

The compulsion washed over Lavellan like a crashing wave. As soon as Solas withdrew from her mouth, words began spilling from her lips in a breathless torrent.

"Please," she gasped. "I need you so badly. I'm burning up, I can't take it anymore. Please touch me, fill me, anything. I'll do anything you want, just please let me come."

Her hips rolled helplessly, seeking friction against Felassan's teasing fingers. The magical bonds hummed against her skin, heightening every sensation. Tears of frustrated arousal leaked from beneath the shimmering blindfold.

"More," Solas demanded. "Tell us exactly what you want us to do to you."

Lavellan's cheeks flushed with heat, but she found herself unable to resist the compulsion in his words. "I want...I want to feel you both inside me," she whimpered. "I want Felassan's cock in my mouth while you take me from behind. I want to be stretched and filled until I can't think, can't breathe."

"I want...I want to feel you both inside me," Lavellan whimpered. "I want Felassan's cock in my mouth while you take me from behind."

Solas and Felassan exchanged a heated glance, a silent understanding passing between them. In a fluid motion, they shifted positions. Felassan moved to kneel before Lavellan's face, while Solas positioned himself behind her trembling form.

"Such filthy desires," Felassan purred, his violet eyes gleaming with arousal. "Let's see how well you can use that pretty mouth of yours." He traced the tip of his length along Lavellan's parted lips, smearing precum across them. She whimpered, her tongue darting out to taste him. The magical bonds hummed against her skin as she strained forward, eager to take him in.

Meanwhile, Solas ran his hands reverently along the curve of Lavellan's spine. His touch left trails of tingling magic in its wake, heightening every sensation. He positioned himself at her entrance, the thick head of his cock pressing insistently against her slick folds.

"Remember," Solas murmured, his voice low and commanding. "You are not to come until I give you permission. No matter how desperately you crave it, you will hold back your pleasure."

Lavellan nodded minutely, trembling with need and the effort of restraint. She felt utterly exposed, caught between their bodies and unable to hide her desperate arousal.

Solas pushed into Lavellan with agonizing slowness, savoring the exquisite feeling of her tight heat enveloping him inch by inch. As he hilted himself fully inside her, he called upon his magic, weaving intricate threads of power around her suspended form.

Lavellan gasped as she felt herself becoming weightless, her body lifting gently into the air. The magical bonds shimmered and pulsed, holding her securely in place even as she floated. The sensation was disorienting yet thrilling - she felt utterly exposed and vulnerable, displayed for their pleasure.

"Look at you," Felassan purred, his violet eyes gleaming with desire as he took in the sight of her suspended form. "So beautiful, so helpless." His clever fingers danced along her skin, tracing patterns of tingling magic across her breasts and down her trembling thighs.

Lavellan whimpered around his length, her tongue swirling desperately as she sucked him deeper. The position allowed Felassan to slide even further into her throat, and she struggled to relax, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

Behind her, Solas began to move in long, measured strokes. The angle of penetration was deeper than ever before, hitting spots inside her that made her see stars. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he thrust into her floating form.

"So eager," Felassan commented, his cock slid deeper into her throat with each thrust, stretching her limits. His fingers tangled in her hair, guiding her movements as she sucked him eagerly. Drool trickled from the corners of her mouth, running down her chin in glistening rivulets. The sight only seemed to inflame Felassan's passion further.

Solas's thrusts grew more intense, his grip on Lavellan's hips tightening as he drove into her suspended form. The magical bonds pulsed in time with their movements, sending waves of tingling pleasure through her limbs. Lavellan moaned around Felassan's length, the vibrations causing him to groan in response.

"Such a good girl," Felassan purred, his fingers tangling in her hair. "Taking us both so well."

Lavellan's entire world had narrowed to the exquisite sensations coursing through her body. Solas's thick length stretching her, hitting spots deep inside that made her see stars. Felassan's cock sliding deeper into her throat with each thrust. The cool night air caressing her flushed skin. She felt utterly overwhelmed, caught between pleasure and the desperate need for release.

Solas leaned forward, his chest pressing against her back as he whispered in her ear. "I can feel how close you are, vhenan. Your body is trembling, clenching around me so tightly."

His words sent a shiver down her spine. Lavellan whimpered, her hips rolling desperately as she sought more friction. The magical bonds tightened in response, holding her firmly in place.

"Not yet," Solas commanded softly. "Show us how much you want it. Let us see your desperation."

Lavellan redoubled her efforts, desperate to please and earn her release. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking Felassan with renewed vigor as her tongue swirled around his length. Her hips rolled in tight circles, clenching rhythmically around Solas as he thrust into her suspended form.

Sweat glistened on her skin, her body trembling with the effort of restraint. Every nerve ending felt alight, sparks of pleasure racing along her spine with each perfect thrust. The magical bonds pulsed in time with her racing heart, sending waves of tingling sensation through her limbs.

Felassan groaned, his fingers tightening in her hair as he neared his peak. "So eager," he panted. 

Behind her, Solas's movements grew more intense. His grip on her hips tightened as he drove into her with punishing force. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her, building and building until she felt she might shatter from the intensity.

"Please," Lavellan whimpered around Felassan's cock, tears of frustrated arousal leaking from beneath the shimmering blindfold. "Please, I can't... I need..."

Solas leaned forward, his chest pressed against her back as he whispered in her ear. His voice was low and hypnotic, resonating through her very being. "Let go, vhenan.”

At Solas's command, Lavellan felt the last of her restraint crumble away. Pleasure crashed over her in overwhelming waves as her body convulsed with release. She cried out around Felassan's length, her back arching as far as the magical bonds would allow.

Every nerve ending seemed to ignite at once, sending sparks of ecstasy racing along her spine. Her inner walls clenched rhythmically around Solas, drawing him even deeper as her hips bucked uncontrollably. The magical bonds pulsed in time with her racing heart, intensifying each wave of sensation.

Tears of relief and overwhelming pleasure streamed from beneath the shimmering blindfold. Lavellan's muffled cries of ecstasy filled the glade as her orgasm seemed to go on and on, each thrust of Solas's hips prolonging the exquisite torment.

Her body trembled violently, suspended in midair and caught between their powerful forms. She felt utterly exposed, utterly claimed, as they continued to take their pleasure from her shaking form. The cool night air caressed her flushed skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from within.

As the initial wave began to subside, Solas's fingers found her sensitive bud, circling it with maddening pressure. The touch sent aftershocks of pleasure coursing through her, causing her to cry out once more. Her voice was hoarse, her throat raw.

Felassan gazed down at Lavellan's trembling form, his violet eyes gleaming with barely restrained hunger. "Such a good girl," he purred, running a hand along her flushed cheek. "But I wonder... do you want more?"

Lavellan's breath caught in her throat. Every nerve ending still sparked with the aftershocks of her intense climax, her body hypersensitive to even the lightest touch. Yet beneath the lingering waves of pleasure, a deeper ache was already beginning to build. She nodded eagerly, beyond words.

With a pleased hum, Felassan moved around her suspended form. Solas's magic pulsed, adjusting her position in midair until she was perfectly displayed between them. The shimmering bonds shifted, spreading her legs wider and tilting her hips. Cool night air caressed her most intimate places, making her shiver.

"Are you certain?" Felassan asked, his tone serious despite the hunger in his eyes. His fingers traced feather-light patterns along the curve of her ass. "I want to take you here. To feel you stretch around me as Solas fills you from the front. But only if you're sure."

Lavellan's breath hitched at his words, arousal flooding through her anew. "Yes," she gasped. "Please, I want to feel you both."

Felassan's answering grin was wicked as he conjured a vial of shimmering oil. He poured some over his fingers, the liquid glowing faintly with magical energy. "Relax for me, da'len," he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

His slick fingers circled Lavellan's puckered entrance, massaging gently to help her relax. The oil tingled pleasantly against her sensitive skin, warming as it made contact. Lavellan let out a soft gasp as Felassan slowly pressed one finger inside, the intrusion both foreign and thrilling.

"That's it," Felassan praised, working his finger deeper with careful patience. "You're doing so well."

Solas's hands roamed Lavellan's body as Felassan prepared her, his touch soothing and grounding. His lips found her neck, placing gentle kisses along the curve of her throat. "Breathe, vhenan," he murmured against her skin. "Let yourself feel everything."

Lavellan whimpered as Felassan added a second finger, stretching her carefully. The magical oil eased the way, its warmth spreading through her core. Felassan's clever fingers curled and scissored, sending sparks of unexpected pleasure racing along her spine.

"So responsive," Felassan purred appreciatively. "I think you're nearly ready for me."

Solas and Felassan positioned themselves carefully on either side of Lavellan's suspended form. The magical bonds shifted, adjusting her body to the perfect angle. Lavellan's breath came in quick, shallow pants, anticipation and arousal coiling tightly in her core.

With exquisite care, Solas began to enter her, the thick head of his cock stretching her slick folds. He moved with agonizing slowness, allowing her body time to adjust to his girth. Lavellan gasped at the delicious fullness, her inner walls fluttering around him.

"Breathe, vhenan," Solas murmured, his voice low and soothing. His hands caressed her sides, leaving trails of tingling magic in their wake.

Behind her, Felassan pressed the head of his oil-slicked length against her other entrance. He was incredibly gentle, easing forward by fractions of an inch. The magical oil eased the way, its warmth spreading through her core.

"Tell me if it's too much," Felassan said softly, his usual playfulness replaced by genuine concern.

Lavellan nodded, beyond words as sensation overwhelmed her. The initial stretch burned slightly, but the discomfort quickly gave way to a deep, unfamiliar pleasure. She felt utterly filled, claimed in the most intimate way possible.

Solas and Felassan moved together in perfect synchronization, their thrusts slow and measured as they allowed Lavellan's body to adjust to the intense fullness. The magical bonds pulsed gently, supporting her weight and holding her suspended between them.

Lavellan's head fell back, overwhelmed by the dual sensations of being so thoroughly claimed. Every nerve ending sparked with pleasure as they began to move more purposefully, finding a rhythm that had her gasping and trembling.

Solas's hands roamed her body, leaving trails of tingling magic in their wake. His fingers found her sensitive breasts, teasing and pinching her nipples as he drove into her with increasing intensity. His lips found the curve of her neck, teeth grazing the delicate skin before soothing the sting with his tongue.

Behind her, Felassan's clever fingers danced along her spine, tracing intricate patterns that sent shivers racing through her. His other hand gripped her hip, guiding her movements as he thrust deeper. The magical oil eased the way, its warmth spreading through her core and intensifying every sensation.

"So perfect," Felassan murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Taking us both so beautifully."

Lavellan could only whimper in response, caught in a haze of pleasure so intense it bordered on overwhelming. She felt utterly exposed, utterly claimed, as they continued to take their pleasure from her trembling form.

The cool night air caressed Lavellan's flushed skin as Solas and Felassan continued their exquisite torment. Every nerve ending sang with pleasure as they moved within her, their bodies finding a perfect rhythm that had her gasping and trembling. The magical bonds pulsed in time with their thrusts, sending waves of tingling sensation through her suspended form.

Felassan's clever fingers traced patterns of crackling energy along her spine, each touch igniting sparks of pleasure that raced along her nerves. His other hand gripped her hip firmly, guiding her movements as he drove deeper. The enchanted oil eased his passage, its warmth spreading through her core and intensifying every sensation.

Solas's hands roamed her body reverently, leaving trails of tingling magic in their wake. His fingers found her sensitive breasts, teasing and rolling her nipples as he thrust into her with increasing intensity. His lips found the curve of her neck, teeth grazing the delicate skin before soothing the sting with his tongue.

"You're close again, aren't you vhenan?" Solas murmured against her skin, his voice low and hypnotic. "I can feel you trembling, clenching around us so tightly."

Lavellan could only whimper in response, beyond words as pleasure built within her. She felt utterly filled, claimed in the most intimate way possible. Every thrust sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her body.

Lavellan's body trembled on the precipice of release, every nerve ending alight with exquisite sensation. Solas and Felassan moved within her in perfect harmony, their thrusts deep and purposeful as they drove her higher. The magical bonds pulsed in time with her racing heart, sending waves of tingling pleasure through her suspended form.

"Let go for us," Solas commanded softly, his voice resonating through her very being. "Show us your pleasure, vhenan."

At his words, the last threads of Lavellan's control snapped. Pleasure crashed over her in overwhelming waves, her back arching as far as the bonds would allow. She cried out, her voice raw and desperate as ecstasy consumed her. Her inner walls clenched rhythmically around both of them, drawing them even deeper as her hips bucked uncontrollably.

Sparks of magic danced across her skin, intensifying each pulse of her climax. The world seemed to fracture around her, reality blurring at the edges as she lost herself to sensation. Tears of overwhelmed bliss leaked from beneath the shimmering blindfold, tracing glistening paths down her flushed cheeks.

Solas and Felassan continued to move within her, prolonging her pleasure with each perfect thrust. Their hands roamed her trembling form, leaving trails of tingling magic in their wake. Lavellan felt utterly claimed, utterly cherished, as they continued to take their pleasure from.

Lavellan's cries of ecstasy filled the glade as her orgasm seemed to go on and on, each thrust prolonging the exquisite torment. Her body convulsed between Solas and Felassan, suspended in midair by shimmering bonds of magic. Sparks of pleasure raced along her nerves, building and cresting in waves that left her gasping and trembling.

As Lavellan's climax began to ebb, Solas and Felassan picked up their pace. Their movements grew more urgent, more primal, as they chased their own release. Solas's fingers dug into her hips, holding her steady as he drove into her with punishing force. Each thrust sent aftershocks of pleasure coursing through her oversensitive body.

Behind her, Felassan's clever hands traced intricate patterns of magic along her spine. The ethereal touch ignited new sparks of sensation, coaxing her towards impossible heights once more. His other hand gripped her hip bruisingly tight as he pounded into her, the enchanted oil easing his passage.

Solas and Felassan's movements became more urgent, their thrusts deeper and more forceful as they neared their peak. The air crackled with magic, shimmering wisps of energy dancing across their skin.

Solas's grip on Lavellan's hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he drove into her with relentless intensity. His usual composure had shattered, replaced by raw, primal need. Each powerful thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through Lavellan's oversensitive body.

Behind her, Felassan's clever hands traced intricate patterns of magic along her spine, igniting new sparks of sensation. His other hand gripped her hip bruisingly tight as he pounded into her, the enchanted oil easing his passage. His violet eyes blazed with hunger as he watched her writhe between them.

"Let go for us one more time, vhenan," Solas commanded, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Come undone."

At his words, Lavellan felt herself hurtling towards another impossible peak. Her body trembled violently, suspended between them as pleasure built to an almost unbearable intensity. She cried out, beyond words as ecstasy consumed her once more.

Solas and Felassan's movements became frenzied as Lavellan's climax pushed them over the edge. They drove into her with abandon, chasing their own release. The air crackled with magic, shimmering wisps of energy dancing across their skin.

Solas was the first to succumb. With a guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside Lavellan's quivering heat. His seed spilled into her in hot pulses as his hips jerked erratically. Waves of magic rolled off him, washing over Lavellan's oversensitive form and prolonging her own pleasure.

Moments later, Felassan followed. He gripped Lavellan's hips bruisingly tight as he pounded into her a final time. His release flooded her, the enchanted oil amplifying every sensation. Sparks of violet energy crackled along his skin, leaping to Lavellan and igniting new sparks of ecstasy.

Caught between them, Lavellan's body convulsed with the force of yet another climax. She cried out hoarsely, beyond words as pleasure consumed her. The magical bonds pulsed rapidly, sending waves of tingling sensation through her suspended form.

For several long moments, the trio remained locked together, trembling in the aftermath of shared ecstasy. The glade was filled with the sound of ragged breathing and the fading crackle of spent magic.

As the waves of pleasure gradually subsided, Solas and Felassan began to lower Lavellan's trembling form. With exquisite care, they guided her onto the soft bed of moss that Felassan had conjured earlier. The magical tendrils that had held her aloft slowly dissolved, fading away in shimmering motes of light that danced through the air like fireflies.

Solas's fingers traced along Lavellan's temples, dispelling the magical blindfold with a whispered word. As the shimmering veil faded, Lavellan blinked slowly, her eyes adjusting to the soft glow of the glade. The compulsion that had woven through Solas's commands gently unraveled, leaving her mind clear but pleasantly hazy in the aftermath of their shared passion.

With reverent touches, Solas and Felassan began to clean Lavellan's flushed skin. Felassan conjured a bowl of warm, scented water and soft cloths. They worked in tandem, their movements gentle and soothing as they wiped away the mingled evidence of their lovemaking. The warm, damp cloths felt heavenly against Lavellan's oversensitive skin, drawing soft sighs of contentment from her lips.

Solas and Felassan tended to Lavellan with infinite care, their touches reverent as they cleaned her flushed skin. Felassan conjured more warm, scented water and soft cloths. They worked in tandem, movements gentle as they wiped away the mingled evidence of their lovemaking. The damp cloths felt heavenly against Lavellan's oversensitive flesh.

Solas cradled her head in his lap, fingers combing through tangled strands with patient devotion. His touch was grounding, anchoring her as the last waves of pleasure ebbed. Felassan's clever hands traced soothing patterns along her limbs, easing away any lingering tension or soreness.

"How do you feel, vhenan?" Solas murmured, voice soft with concern.

Lavellan managed a contented hum, beyond words. A lazy smile curved her lips as she leaned into their ministrations.

Felassan chuckled warmly. "I think we've rendered our lovely Herald speechless." His tone was teasing, but his violet eyes shone with genuine affection.

Once they'd cleaned her thoroughly, Solas carefully lifted Lavellan into his arms. She nestled against his chest with a quiet sigh as he carried her to a nearby grassy area. Felassan darted ahead, as he carried blankets and pillows to create a cozy nest.

They settled her gently onto the soft blankets Felassan had arranged. The grass beneath was cool and fragrant, cushioning their bodies as they reclined. Solas cradled Lavellan against his chest, his arms encircling her protectively. Felassan stretched out on her other side, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

Above them, the night sky stretched out in a glittering tapestry of stars. The glade was far from any settlements, allowing the full glory of the heavens to shine unobstructed. Countless pinpricks of light twinkled against the inky blackness, some steady and bright while others flickered like distant candle flames.

Felassan conjured softly glowing wisps that floated lazily around them, casting a warm, ethereal light. The magical orbs pulsed gently, their soft radiance complementing rather than overwhelming the starlight. They cast shifting shadows across the lovers' intertwined forms, painting their skin in ever-changing patterns of light and dark.

A cool breeze whispered through the trees, carrying with it the mingled scents of night-blooming flowers and rich earth. It caressed their flushed skin, soothing away the last lingering traces of heat from their passionate encounter. Lavellan shivered slightly, and Solas pulled her closer, his body heat enveloping her like a cocoon.

Felassan reached out, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along Lavellan's arm before coming to rest on her hip. He shifted closer, his body molding against her side as he draped one leg over hers. The warmth of his skin seeped into her, chasing away the last whispers of chill from the night air.

His touch was different now - no longer inflamed with passion, but tender and almost reverent. His palm curved around the gentle slope of her hip, thumb brushing idle circles against her skin. The simple contact grounded her, a reminder of their shared intimacy and the bond that now existed between them.

Lavellan let out a contented sigh, nestling deeper into the cocoon of warmth created by their bodies. Solas's chest rose and fell steadily beneath her cheek, his heartbeat a soothing rhythm in her ear. Felassan's breath tickled the nape of her neck, soft and even.

Above them, the night sky continued its slow dance. Stars wheeled overhead in their ancient patterns, constellations shifting as the hours passed. Occasionally, a streak of light would arc across the heavens - a falling star, its brief life ending in a blaze of glory.

The glade around them seemed to pulse with quiet magic. Fireflies danced between the trees, their bioluminescent glow mingling with Felassan's conjured wisps.

Lavellan drifted in and out of a peaceful doze, cradled between Solas and Felassan. Their gentle touches and whispered words of affection wove through her dreams, creating a tapestry of warmth and belonging. She felt utterly safe, utterly cherished, in a way she had never experienced before.

[shiteatinggrin]

galavant's only flaw was that off with his shirt wasn't sung by a drag queen (also that they didn't make sid canonically gay)

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent ones of these even though they all look the same lol.. forcing myself to document progress..

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 (𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟓) - 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, NON- CON, dark!Wanda, kidnapped, drugging, mind control, mommy kink, enchanted strap, breeding kink, dumbification, praise kink, manhandling

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: With Vision gone Wanda found a new way to have her perfect family. But for that she has to take drastic message

𝐀/𝐍: let’s pretend it’s yesterday

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭����𝐧𝐞

Wanda longed for one thing, a family, something picture perfect like you’d see in the sit coms she used to watch. But with Vision gone, she thought she could never reach her goal until she had found you. Pretty and young the perfect wife for her causes.

There was only one problem you already had a man. Which made her more angry with each day passing. How could a man claim over something which was clearly made for her. The only solution was to steal you away from your life, make you forget so you wouldn’t linger after the things which were bad for you.

Around her cabin in the Canadian woods she had build a small hex. A hex you couldn’t cross but was still big enough to make you feel like you could prow through the forest. But first she needed to catch you on your way home as she had mapped your daily schedule perfectly.

Wanda walked three steps behind you her hoodie hiding her face. Until you crossed in the dark valley leading into your Appartement. Hastily she had caught up to you her fingers casting a spell before you fell in her arms unconsciously.

When you regained your consciousness, waking up in clean white sheets with sun streaming through the window. Something was off, but you couldn’t remember what. You had memories of a life with a woman who seemed familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

When you stood up and found the kitchen the same unfamiliar woman was cooking breakfast, Wanda, had you just forgotten the name of your own wife? “Oh baby you’re awake already” She pulled you against her chest “Do you still have the headache from yesterday baby?” She asked her hand petting over your hair. “W- What? I can’t remember” Her perfect smile distorted a bit, became creepy even. “That’s because you haven’t had your pills yet baby” She spoke in a soothing voice as if it was the most normal thing for her.

She kept preparing for breakfast, cutting some strawberries because she knew she liked them. While she was focused on you her accidentally cut her finger, and the hex flickered for a split second and all the memories can crashing down on you. With from shock widened pupils you stared at her and she knew she had to act fast. “W-here am I?” Tears were building in building in your eyes. “Let me go I- I have a boyfriend, f- family”

She lounged at you manhandling your body on the couch “you don’t need them! All you need is me, I can tell what’s good for you and what not” She pressed you down hard the tears were already wetting the couching of the couch. “You’re just a dumb little girl who needs mommy to tell her what to do”

“Please don’t” You begged but her magic was already making you forget again. You’re brain soon felt like mush. You barely registered her pushing up your shirt and pulling your panties down “that’s a good girl all dumbed down and obedient” She played with your sloppy cunt. “You’re so wet baby? Do you like mommy playing with your little pussy?”

“Yes mommy” you mewl pushing your hips into her hands “Mhm that’s thats right… let mommy do all the thinking” She unzipped her own pants pulling them down to her thighs to reveal her enchanted strap. She alined herself with your sloppy cunt. Roughly she pushed into your tight hole splitting you open.

You mewl pressing your hips against her, like the desperate whore you were. She was harsh with her thrusts not caring about your desperate cries for release as they were only backround ambiance to the slapping of skin.

“You’re so tight for mommy” She cursed under her breath feeling every inch of you as she fucked you raw. “F- feels so good” You cried your throat raw from the screaming. “I’m gonna fuck you so full your gonna carry my babies”

“Yes” you chanted feeling your stomach tighten as you were just about to cum. “I’ll get you a full that’s what you want?! My dumb little housewife always ready for my dick?” She mocked her hand slapping your butt.

“M- Mommy, I- I’m close” You mewled biting down into the pillow you were clinging on. “Cum with me baby make me proud and cream over my cock” She fastened her hips again and you squirted all over her abs. She released her seed shortly after pulling out to finger her cum back into you. You were too far gone in the trance as you feel asleep on the couch. In a few hours you would be perfect for her that she was sure of.

@jolyssereed

[st4rbwrry]

   𝐾𝐼𝑆𝑆 𝑀𝐸 𝑇𝐼𝐿𝐿 𝐼’𝑀 𝐵𝐿𝑈𝐸.

꒰ armin takes his pretty girlfriend on a picnic in an enchanted forest.꒱

🫧 𐀔 . . . 1.4k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, established relationship, sub / dom, profanity, pet names, unprotected penetrative sex, we’re in luvvv, outside indecency, love bites, praise, kinda shy reader, smoking, kreampie, minors aren’t welcomed ! reblogs + comments are appreciated! <3

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . this been in the drafts since 2022 y’all. a lil sum.

a pastel baby blue dress clings tight to your smooth skin, looking like the prettiest cottage core girl. frills on the shoulders and bust sitting low to accentuate your perky chest. love handles and tummy pudge swallowed by the soft material. armin couldn't keep his eyes, or hands, to himself. rubbing all up on you throughout your entire picnic date. fresh air blows through the trees and the bright views of sunlight beam across the blue lake where pure white doves swam in silence. armin had found this mythical location by driving around one day. it's quiet and reserved, deep into an enchanted forest.

the two of you sat on a blanket sprawled out on the grass, enjoying the food armin neatly packed. lots of fruits because you loved them. strawberries, raspberries, pomegranates, green grapes, apricots, and peaches . . . you name it. overdoing it just a bit, but he knows it’ll be eaten by this week. this was breakfast, the time now around eleven in the morning, so while you got ready he prepped the food. heart shaped pancakes, waffles, turkey bacon, pork sausage, scrambled cheese eggs and of course never forgetting your orange juice.

to make it cuter he brought a glass vase and filled it with water and multicolor roses he bought from the flower shop. you ate so much food your stomach bloated, unable to eat anymore. armin lays on his back with you to stare up at the sky and watch the trees blow, the weather perfect for the occasion. the sun hitting your skin serenely. you rest your head on armin’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as he massages your back in gentle circles, nearly falling asleep because you’re so at peace.

“i’m so glad we did this,” a yawn escapes as you smile sweetly at him, rubbing his stomach over his white tee.

armin presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering it before mumbling, “me too.” soon, digging into his jean pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. tapping the plastic box to release a stick. your body moves with the forearm he brings together to light his cig, flicking the lighter twice and satiating his need.

“i needed a break from life. so, thank you, love.” the softness in your voice makes the man's heart beat twice as fast. he smiles at you after turning his head the opposite way to blow out smoke, knowing you hated it in your face. being at close proximity right now was less irritating since you're elated at the moment. you could care less because he's comfortable, and it makes you feel the same. you could never get him to quit no matter how hard you tried. never argued with him about it. minor debates but he gave valid points so you laid off it.

“i figured it'd be nice to escape for the day. it's upsetting we have to return to reality tomorrow. but when i'm with you, it always feels . . . free.”

armin brushes a curved knuckle over your cheekbone, your eyes glued to his own.

“i feel the same way.”

“i say i love you all the time. but do you really understand it? how deep it is?”

you curl your lips inward, pondering on his question. more like a statement.

“i know you love me. you show it more ways than one. i think that's meaningful overall.”

fluffy blond hair with gold hues covers his angelic baby blue eyes, reaching up to tuck some of the wavy ringlets behind his ear.

“tell me you love me, then gimme a kiss.”

your face grows hot from his demand, growing nervous. you sit up briefly to grab a peach to bite into and distract yourself, more like hide your face because you were smiling so hard. this happens to be the second time since he's first told you he loved you. it makes you shy even still, the rush of heat coming to your cheeks from the intense glare he gives you, waiting for you to say it. you don't know why it felt so hard to utter. it's clear you love him, but maybe it was the large commitment of the word . . . the vulnerability, the devotion, the forever tie that scared you.

"tell me you love me, or i'll make you say it, ꒰♡꒱ ."

and make you he does.

his breath is warm on your neck, tongue following to lick a bold stripe over your skin with his fingers indented into the flesh of your cheeks and jaw. your face is upturned, head resting on his shoulder, back to his chest as you rely on his body for your balance. your thighs are spread wide, holding yourself open with your unoccupied hand, gripping under the bend of your knees, whimpering in the breezy air as his hips interact with the round of your ass, fucking you from the side fervidly. his moans are light, dancing in your ear while you claw into the picnic blanket beneath you two, clutching the grass and dirt in the wake. tuning into the lewd interaction of his heavy dick pounding into you, tits bouncing out of the enclosure of your dress.

“i can’t hear you, ꒰♡꒱,” armin grits his teeth, his lips on your jaw now, kissing away and grunting as he raises his hips to fuck you deeper, thrusts steady but rough. you’re feeling dizzy, whining from the baritone of his voice. “i didn’t make myself clear enough?”

“n-no. . . ar—min. mmph,” while denying, there’s a crack in your voice as you try your best to speak, moans rumbling in your throat, your tummy jiggling from his harsh pace.

“then tell me, tell me,” armin’s voice is a whispered plead, his jeans to his knees and his shirt pulled up to his midsection, skin scorching against your own.

you’re soft, and small. his big hand with veins protruding goes from your face to your chest, tweaking your nipples that spilled out of it’s cups alluringly, before spanking them with the pads of his fingers. tweak, spank, tweak, spank. it’s a notion that has you drooling, and sobbing pathetically. he’s trying to upkeep his composure, trying not to bottom out and lose his sanity. you’re too cute.

“i love youuu,” you finally cry out, ragged moans falling out in shorts gasps, tears coaxing and the pressure in your tummy building.

“fuck, there you go, sweetie,” his excitement shows through the way his dick slips out of you, both of you gasping from the loss until he slaps your clit with his dick, your juices sputtering out of you with each wet pat pat pat. armin draws his hips back slightly before sliding back inside easily, digging his fingers into the back of your thigh you held up and rolled his waist to fuck you harder.

each pound is harder than the previous, his jaw widening as he chokes on his moans and catches your throat with his mouth, tongue lolling out occasionally and his teeth following suit. your head is tossed back entirely, his arm going around your shoulder to cradle you, falling back on the ground. your thighs press tightly together, and you hold onto his arm while his middle and ring fingers thrum intricately over your puffy clit to watch her squirt.

armin hisses with skaken moan. “say it again, ꒰♡꒱.”

“i love you, armin.”

“again,” he’s biting at your neck again, your mouth agape from the combination of that and the head of his dick kissing your sweet spot.

“b-baby, g-god. i love you.”

“ooh, shit,” armin then pushes your left thigh flat to the ground, your body twisted as he goes to level himself above you in push up form, dropping his dick into you with steady, hard pounds. his voice grows weak, moans whiny as he cums deep inside of you, and you follow not long after, squeaking and clutching onto his wrist planted by your head. the softness of your ass bouncing back onto his hips is entrancing. his ass flexing when he grinds into your pussy.

“oh my god,” those pretty strands of blond sway in front of his face, giggling and lowering his body to rest his chest on your side. repeatedly leaving kisses to your flushed cheeks, neck, even your forehead. unable to move at all.

“i really love you, i swear,” the pads of your fingers brush over his pink lips, overly sensitive at the moment so you definitely felt like crying. a high pitched hiccup interrupts the moment, and that only makes armin roll his lips inward before bursting out a laugh.

“you’re so cute,” he gives you an eskimo kiss before smooching your lips. “i know you do.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life. 🫧🍓

[misstycloud]

Yandere cowboy x fem.reader

Yandere! Cowboy who’s the towns sweetheart. How can he not be? He helps every troubled soul he comes across, doesn’t matter who they are. He works hard every day to easy the load of providing for the family, he’s not a child anymore, of course he’ll do anything he can to help out! Besides, who wouldn’t fall for those muscles and pearly smile? You’d be crazy if you didn’t.

Yandere! Cowboy who you meet the first day of your ‘vacation’ to stay at your grandparents. Your parents though you’d been acting up the last weeks so they decided it was best to send you away for the summer, much to your dismay. Now you’d have to text your friends that you can’t hang out at all. Damn it. Being forced to stay in a in-the-middle-of-nowhere town definitely wasn’t your top priority. There was practically no service and nothing to do all summer. You’ll be bored out of your mind unless you manage to find something to entertain you. Luckily, there does appear to be something worthy of your attention- or rather, someone. It’ll certainly make things more interesting.

Yandere! Cowboy who you think is kinda cute, if not a little weird. He’s no doubt very different compared to the boys in the city- speaking in that special accent, wearing worn overalls, sweat at his forehead everytime you meet and practical thinking above all else. Still, you find yourself intrigued by his contrasting personality.

Yandere! Cowboy who is enchanted by you. You’re just so….wonderful. Funny enough, he also thinks you’re different, which interests him. Normally, he isn’t the type to brag and is quite humble, but he isn’t blind. He can see the way the girls in town drool over him. He knows he’s attractive. But you, you don’t fall over your feet whenever you gets a glimpse of him. You don’t stutter over every word while talking to him- in fact, you’re as cool as a cucumber. It almost seems like you’re flirting with him.

Yandere! Cowboy who notices you way your eyes sparkle when you speak of your interests. He starts thinking about the way you sound when laugh, how you pout when you’re frustrated and what you look like when you’re sad. It’s all beautiful. You are beautiful. Soon, it’s not only that he focuses on. Now, every time you’re walking ahead of him, he pays attention to the curve of your ass, how your hips sway when you walk, and suddenly he finds himself having to adjust his pants.

Yandere! Cowboy who you enter a special relationship with. You’re more than friends but less than actual lovers- that’s how you see it at least and you believed that’s what yan! Cowboy wanted, too. You two spend all your free time together in each others arms and going on cute dates around town and in the forest.

Yandere! Cowboy who wishes to marry you. You’re his perfect match! It must be fate that you ended up in their little town. He’d give you a big beautiful ring- he’s saved up quite a bit during his years of working, so he can easily afford it- and let you have whatever wedding you imagine. He’d make sure it’s exactly how you want it. Then, he’ll personally build you a house. Of course, before he starts working on that, he’ll need to know if you want a porch, what kind of shutter you want and what colour should the exterior be, would you like a fireplace?

Yandere! Cowboy who can’t believe it; you’re leaving? You say that summer is over and you don’t have to stay there with your grandparents anymore. You almost seem…relieved. No, that can’t be it. You love him! Right? Or was the connection he felt just one-sided?

“Sorry, you weren’t meant to catch feelings for me or anything. I just wanted to have fun, pass the time y’know.

“So I didn’t meant anything to you? Not even a little bit?…”

“I do like you. But I live in the city and my stay here was never going to be permanent. Like I said, I’m sorry it got a little too serious.”

“…….”

“Yeah, I gotta go now. I wish you well though, see ya.”

Yandere! Cowboy who spiraled after you left. You’ve dug yourself too deep in him. He can’t imagine going on about his life like you never existed. He thought you could be happy there, even if wasn’t like the big city you were used too, but that was clearly not the case.

If he had to uproot his life and move to be with you, then so be it. He wonders if you’ll be happy to see him again.

[solxamber]

Date(?) Night- Rook Hunt x reader

Rook is convinced that you have feelings for him after your "date". You have no idea what he's talking about, considering you never went on a date

You’re minding your own business in the tranquil courtyard, taking in the morning sun, when suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you spot a familiar figure approaching—Rook Hunt. His feathered hat tips with the breeze, his eyes twinkling with mischief. You've come to learn that when Rook has that look in his eyes, it means he’s up to something. Something involving you, most likely.

"Ah, ma chérie, the morning sun pales in comparison to your beauty today!" Rook announces as he strides over, his voice dripping with theatrical flair.

You sigh but can’t help a small smile creeping up your lips. “Rook, it’s too early for this.”

“Non, non!” He gasps dramatically, clutching a hand to his chest as if wounded. “It is never too early to admire the exquisite masterpiece that is before me.”

It’s his usual routine, something you’ve gotten used to over time, though it never ceases to catch you off guard when he throws in a new metaphor or an unexpected compliment. Today, however, there’s an extra glint of mischief in his eye, and you know he’s building up to something.

“And yet,” he says, his tone dropping as he leans a bit closer, “how can you sit here and pretend that last night was nothing?”

Your brows knit together in confusion. “What are you talking about, Rook?”

“Ah! You play coy!” He grins, crossing his arms, clearly delighting in your perplexed expression. “How can you tell me you don’t have feelings for me when we went for a long, romantic walk together last night?”

You blink at him, stunned. “Wait…what?”

“Oui, oui!” he nods enthusiastically, his smile wide and radiant. “The moonlit path, the rustling leaves, the gentle wind carrying the scent of flowers… Surely, you remember our intimate stroll under the stars.”

“We never went for a walk together, I walked home alone last night” you say slowly, trying to decipher whatever strange game he’s playing at.

“Ah, but we did,” Rook insists, eyes sparkling like he’s revealing the grandest secret. “I was there too! Behind the the trees. How could you not notice me?!”

You gape at him, mouth slightly open. He says it so casually, so cheerfully, as if his behavior was completely normal. And of course, with Rook, it kind of is.

“You were... hiding?” you ask, half-laughing in disbelief. “Stalking me from the trees?”

“Stalking?” He looks scandalized, shaking his head dramatically. “Non, non, non! I was merely observing! Like a hunter admires the grace of a deer as it glides through the forest. Every movement, every glance—it was all so enchanting! How could I resist?”

“Rook,” you say, rubbing your temples, “you can’t just follow people from the shadows and call it a romantic walk. That’s not how this works.”

“But of course it is!” He steps closer, eyes gleaming with intensity. “I was there, every step of the way. Witnessing your grace, your every thought etched upon your face as you gazed at the stars. How could that not be a shared moment?”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, crossing your arms. “A shared moment usually involves, you know, both people being aware that it’s happening.”

Rook simply smiles, unfazed. “Details, details. The heart understands what the mind does not.”

“I’m pretty sure my mind understands that I was alone,” you reply, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably.

“And yet,” Rook continues, undeterred, “your heart knew I was there. It called out to me through the night. Even in your solitude, you must have felt my presence, my devotion.”

You shake your head, though you’re smiling now. "I didn’t feel anything, except maybe the wind. Are you sure it wasn’t just your imagination?"

Rook places a hand over his heart, his voice taking on a more somber tone. "Ah, mon trésor, do not wound me so. My feelings are as real as the stars we gazed upon—albeit, from different vantage points."

You can't help but laugh at his earnestness. Only Rook could make something so absurd sound so heartfelt. He’s watching you now, eyes still twinkling, clearly waiting for you to respond in kind.

“All right,” you say, crossing your arms, “so let me get this straight—you think I have feelings for you because you stalked me during a walk I took by myself?”

Rook gasps again, this time more softly. “Mon amour, you wound me with such harsh terms. I was merely accompanying you, albeit from a respectable distance. It’s not my fault you didn’t notice the hunter in the shadows.”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “So, what now? Are you going to follow me on all my walks and claim we're having romantic dates?”

“Only if you wish,” he says brightly, as though it were a reasonable offer.

You blink at him, taken aback. “Wait… you’re serious?”

“Why not?” Rook grins, stepping closer, his presence almost overwhelming as he peers down at you. “But! If it would please you more to be aware of my presence—”

“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” you interrupt, chuckling. “How about you actually ask me on a date next time instead of lurking in the trees like some kind of... I don’t know, cryptid?”

Rook’s face lights up with a dazzling smile. “Ah! A formal invitation, then! Très bien, ma douce! Consider this my official request—will you grace me with your presence on a proper date, where we both walk together, side by side, beneath the moonlight?”

His eyes are so full of sincerity that it takes you a moment to respond. You weren’t expecting this to go anywhere serious, but Rook has a way of making the ridiculous seem… oddly romantic.

“Fine,” you say, smirking as you hold out your hand. “But only if you promise not to hide behind trees this time.”

Rook beams, clasping your hand in his and bringing it to his lips with a soft, gallant kiss. “You have my word, mon trésor. From this moment on, I shall walk beside you, in full view, where you can witness my admiration in all its glory.”

You can’t help but laugh, but there’s a warmth spreading in your chest as he continues to hold your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. For all his theatrics, Rook’s affection is genuine. He’s not just playing a part—he truly does admire you, even if his methods are a little… unconventional.

“Okay, then,” you say, squeezing his hand before letting go. “Tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night,” he repeats, his voice soft but full of excitement.

You shake your head, unable to wipe the smile off your face as you turn to leave. But before you take more than a few steps, Rook calls out to you.

“Ah, but wait! One more thing!”

You stop, turning back to him with a curious look. “What now?”

Rook places a hand over his heart, bowing slightly as he gazes up at you with that intense, adoring expression of his. “How shall I dress for our moonlit rendezvous? Shall I wear the colors of the night, to blend in with the shadows, or shall I shine like the stars themselves, to match the radiance of your beauty?”

You roll your eyes but can't help the chuckle that escapes. “Just… wear something comfortable. We’re going for a walk, not a runway show.”

Rook gasps as though you’ve said something scandalous. “Comfortable? Ah, ma chère, there is no such thing as comfort when in the presence of such beauty. I must be at my most elegant, my most refined, my—”

“Rook,” you interrupt, laughing. “Just wear something normal, okay?”

He grins, eyes glinting with amusement. “As you wish, mon trésor. I shall endeavor to be ‘normal’ for you.”

With a shake of your head, you turn to walk away, this time managing to get a little further. But even as you leave him behind, you can still hear the faint sound of his voice, calling after you one last time.

“Tomorrow night, my dear! And this time, I promise—I’ll be right beside you!”

Masterlist

[swampjawn]

So I stitched together the rotating camera shot from episode 7 of Dandadan. Youuuuuu might have to zoom in a bit though.

This sequence was almost completely anime-original, and it's a great example of why this episode took the show to a whole new level and made me sob into my iced cream.

In no small part, thanks to Shuuto Enemoto (榎本柊斗) who was animation director, and for the first time (?!) did storyboards for this episode. Which is insane because, well, see above.

The manga only spends about 2 pages with the little girl, the anime really basks in this montage of beautifully mundane moments for a full two and a half minutes.

Dandadan is at its best when it's drawing from cinematic influences and thinking about how a real camera could be used to tell its story. The simulated camera rotates slowly around the small apartment and tells the story of this girl and her mother's life together through simple, but touching scenes. This technique isn't as common as the dolly-zooms they've used a few times, but it reminded me of this sequence from "Hunt for the Wilderpeople" (2016) that makes brilliant use of its rotating camera and some cleverly placed body doubles to show the passage of time and development of the relationship between its two protagonists as they're hunted for weeks through the forests of New Zealand. (there was also a really cool and expertly choreographed one in the Showtime series "Kidding")

And it all culminates in this cut where we rotate around a birthday cake and the warm glow from the candles brighten both of their faces. The enchanting, gliding camera movement puts us on the girl's level, and makes the cake look huge and wondrous.

This type of sequence may not be technically difficult in the same ways as it is in live action (though I'm sure it does pose its own technical challenges in animation) but it' shows it's just such a brilliant way to portray this story.

And that's just one of many bits that took this episode above and beyond! I go into way more detail on the animation in this video. Go watch it.

(two videos in a week, who am I, XQC?)

[scarlethexelove]

Blinds Eye

𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: 𝔊𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔬𝔫!𝔑𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔞 ℜ𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔣𝔣 𝔵 𝔅𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔡!ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 1810

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: 𝔖𝔪𝔲𝔱, 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔤𝔥 𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤, ℌ𝔞𝔦𝔯 𝔭𝔲𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔉𝔩𝔲𝔣𝔣, 𝔐𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℑ 𝔤𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔰, 𝔑𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 ℑ 𝔤𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔰.

𝔄/𝔫: 𝔚𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔡 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔉𝔦𝔠. 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔣𝔲𝔫. ℑ'𝔪 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔡𝔬 𝔦𝔱 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔢. ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔠𝔲𝔱𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔰𝔪𝔲𝔱. 𝔘𝔥𝔥𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔟𝔬𝔱𝔥 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔰𝔬 𝔠𝔲𝔱𝔢.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Drops of water can be heard throughout the cave. A constant drip that never seems to stop. Nat turns when she hears footsteps entering her cave, her home. Hissing starts as she prepares from someone who may want to end her but she’s been around long enough, it’s hard to kill someone who can turn everyone to stone. 

“Nat?” You call out as your hands glide along the side of the walls. It’s the only way that you can make sure that you are going the right way. Nat instantly relaxes but rushes over to you. “Moya Lyubov, what are you doing here? You could have been hurt.” She holds your hips and you can hear the soft hisses of her hair which makes you smile. She helps you as always, placing your hands on her face as you feel small licks on your fingertips. “I had news that I just couldn’t wait to tell you.” You let your fingers drag across her features.

Nat is the most beautiful woman you have ever met. In a world that hates and fears her you see the soft and caring side of a woman who just wants to be loved. Though it’s hard to find someone who could stay around due to the fact that she could turn anyone to stone with just one look into their eyes. That was until you came along. Soon to be queen of the realm, but with a catch. You are completely blind. 

One day you had gotten lost in the woods. Stumbling into a cave and finding something or rather someone you didn’t expect. You were covered in mud and dirt, scratches and bruises littered your body. When you felt the walls of the cave you finally let yourself collapse and cry. How were you to get home? You were all alone in one of the most dangerous forests in the area. All you wanted to do was to get away from the pressure just a little bit. This is where Nat found you. You had wandered into her home. You didn’t fear the woman that approached you as she dared to turn you to stone, but was shocked when you looked up to her. Your eyes having a milky color to them. As they met hers you didn’t turn, you didn’t even flinch at the sight of her. That is until it dawned on her that you were in fact blind. 

A friendship blossomed from there, soon turning into one of love. You were looking for an escape and she was looking for companionship. As the time passed you always came to meet her on the same days. She would meet you part of the way so that she could protect you. Your love grew until you could never imagine your life without Nat. And that is why you are here, why you had to see her. You’re about to be crowned Queen and she is the only one that you want by your side. 

“Sit.” Nat leads you to the lonely couch in the cave. “What was so important that you ventured out here alone. I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt.” You give her a smile. She always worries for you but you also always worry that someone is going to hurt her and that is why you had to do something about it. 

You clear your throat as you prepare to explain, gathering all your words. “I want you to be my Queen.” Nat’s face morphed into shock. “Y/n I don’t think that is possible.” You shake your head. “It is. I will be crowned Queen soon and I want you by my side.” You pull a necklace out of your bag. “I searched everywhere in the kingdom to find an enchantress that would enchant this necklace so that you could go out. You wouldn’t have to fear turning someone to stone.” You search for her hands to take in yours, which she helped with. “You can have a life without fear. It would not change your appearance. You will always be the woman I fell in love with.” 

Nat ponders your words. How could a kingdom that so adamantly wants to kill her accept her as a Queen? She has harmed so many there is no way. “Your people would never accept me.” She takes one of her hands from yours and cups your cheek. You instinctively nuzzle into her hand. “I have done so much wrong in this world I do not deserve a place of power… I don’t deserve you.” A tear escapes her eye, a small snake licking the tear as it falls. 

“Natty none of that was your fault. I want to show the kingdom the woman I love. I want you by my side forever and always. If you so wish I can have the enchantress change the spell. I would give anything to have you as mine.” You plead. It’s not normal as a Queen to plead so desperately for something but she lets you be vulnerable with her. She doesn’t see you as the future queen she sees you for you and that is all you could ever wish for. 

The cave is silent other than the sounds of droplets. Nat takes her time as she mulls over everything. This is her chance to have everything she could have wished for. But she is scared. Scared that she won’t be accepted. Scared that those who oppose would hurt you. She would do anything to protect you. But she realizes that despite her fears you are the one for her. You went through the trouble to bring her something that allows her to leave. Allows her to live a life. 

Nat doesn’t let words speak to her decision. She pulls you into her lap to your surprise and kisses you deeply. The kiss is full of love and desire. You moan into her mouth as she devours you whole. When air becomes a necessity she pulls back leaning her head against yours. “Yes.” She pants. Your breaths mingling in the air between you two. “I will be your Queen, but I do not want to hide myself.” 

You smile and nod. “I would never want to hide your beauty from the world, my love.” You let your lips connect again as the love thickens the air. Nat swipes her tongue over your bottom lip as she asks for entrance. There is nothing in you that would ever deny her. You let your lips part as she pushes forward. As she explores your mouth you can feel as arousal pulls inside of you. Nat can feel as your wetness starts to coat her thigh. She swallows a needy whine as it escapes you.

“Aww so needy for me already my Queen.” Which only makes you nod. Nat moves her hands to your hips. Your dress flowing around your waist. She pulls you closer letting your pussy drag across her thigh. “No panties? Such a dirty little slut that likes to be used by me.” Your head falls back as the friction shoots a wave of pleasure through you. She does it again watching as your breath quickens and your chest heaves slightly. Admire as your breast almost spilling over the top. 

Your head snaps back up as she slowly starts to drag you back and forth against her thigh. “M-mm Natty.” She smirks hearing you whimper. As she helps glide you across her thigh and  picks up the pace. Your wetness spreads all over her thigh. Her eyes never leave you, admiring how such a Queen surrenders to her touch. 

“Come on detka. I can’t wait to see you make a mess all over my leg.” You move your hips with Nat’s movements. You feel her flex her thigh muscles under you. You let yourself fall forward into the crook of her neck. But she doesn’t let you stay there for long. One of her hands moving up your back. She lets her fingers lace through your hair and pulls you back up. You head being pulled back far as you let out a loud moan. “I want to see you sweet girl.” Nat leans forward connecting her lips to your neck. She sucks dark reddish purple marks on your skin. In the past you had never let her claim you like this, but soon she will be your Queen. “Who do you belong to?” 

You gasp and try to form words. She tugs at your hair, a burning sensation spreading through your scalp. “Yo-Yours. I-I’m yours Natty. Al-Always yours.” Nat is mumbling praises against your skin as she continues to mark your neck and chest. Everyone will see and know that their Queen belongs to someone and that it is her. You’re already so close to the edge so desperate to cum. The knot is close to snapping. Your hips jerk erratically against her thigh. Nat pulls back, taking a good look at you. She knows you’re close. She gives another tug to your hair. “Ah-Ahhh.” 

“I can tell you’re close my Queen. Do you want to make a mess? Want to cover my thigh in your sticky cum?” You nod frantically not knowing how much longer that you can hold on. She flexes her thigh again adding more pressure. “Cum for me my Queen.” She demands of you. That is all it takes for you to follow over the edge. 

Your body shakes as your orgasm rips through you. “Natty!” You cry out. Nat can’t help but pull your head back further, your whole scalp on fire now. But it feels so good. She is focused on the feeling of your juices leaking out your desperate hole. The way your breasts jiggle as your hips jerk. Your chest flushes, covered in her marks. You look so beautiful like this. She will never get used to seeing you like this. A powerful future Queen powerless to her. 

As you begin to come down from your high Nat slows your hips down until you have completely stopped. Your body slumps into hers as you pant, your head on her chest. She rakes her fingers through your hair soothing your scalp. You hum in delight feeling closer than ever. You let your eyes close thinking about your future with her. What the world has in store for you, the future Queen. 

Once you are finally calmed down you pull back. You gently raise your hand and Nat leads your hand to her cheek. “Let's go home, my love.” You pull the necklace back out and fiddle with the clasp. Nat clasps hers around yours and takes it from you. She is able to hook it around her neck as some snakes help guide her way. 

“To a new beginning my Queen.”

[toruro]

— ✧ devil by the window

temptation touched my tongue / spread the wings of desire (a friday the 13th special)

description: all your fairy friends warned you not to get tangled up with the demons that lurk on the ground, but you swear on every star in the sky that minghao is different.

warnings: smut (18+), consent is clear but reader is somewhat unaware of what sex is

tags: enchanted forest au, demon hao, fairy reader, corruption kink, loss of virginity, innocence kink, pet names (fairy, pretty), condescension, brief implied exhibitionism

w/c: 5k+

request: hiii for hao could u write fairytailesque theme umm like vibes of love between fairy and devil cdrama! mean dom hao secretly a softie for u<33 i feel like u would rock it!!

a/n: i got something out for friday the 13th! sorry to anon for losing the og ask, hope u see this! for those who saw the first version of this, i am sorry. i popped this out by listening to freefall while being high as hell

Joshua was the first to warn you about those who live below. Those who lurk in the shadows, waiting, and waiting, and waiting to pounce on the first naive soul to cross their path.

You didn’t quite believe him at first. Your head was in the pristine clouds that float above; living your little fairy life among the heights of the forest, days spent buzzing around with your friends, glowing smiles and shining eyes, petal-cloth dress flowing over your soft skin as you flutter from tree to tree—your life was perfect.

Seokmin tells you about it next. He recites a story of one of his friends, Chan, who got a little too close to the ground. The young boy hardly escaped the luring hands of a demon who crept up on him, and to this day, Chan has a scar on his left ankle.

Maybe catching sight of the little mark on the other fairy’s skin the next time you saw Chan was a little bit of a reality check, but still, you don’t worry too much.

After all, how could you? Your life was perfect, so what need was there for all this tension? All this trouble, worrying about a world so, so far away …

⟢

You’re falling.

You’re falling unimaginably fast.

You’re not really sure how it happened—you were floating through the trees and something in your magic spasmed for a second and the next thing you know you’re flailing around, unable to get those sparks flying again.

And you try to yell for help, call for Seokmin because he’s the last one you’d seen, a cold rush overwhelming your body when you realize you’re too far down for him to hear you anyways. You close your eyes tight and brace for the impact as you feel the bases of the trees grow thicker as you near the ground and then—

Wait, what? Why didn’t you hit the ground and—oh, you’re floating again. Reflexes must’ve kicked in upon realizing the difference in air pressure.

It takes a few moments to get yourself back on balance using what little energy you’ve got left. You’re dangerously close to the ground—mere meters hovering above it, really, but right as you think you’ve managed to flutter up a bit higher, you lose control again, dropping straight down with no luck on your side to stop you.

You crash down into the ground, letting out a soft shriek as your body thuds. It shakes you for a moment but as you look around, you’re endlessly grateful to have fallen on a relatively soft patch of grass. Dusting yourself off as you try to sit up straight, the fact that you are now on the ground without your magic is dawning on you.

You aren’t sure how long you sit there, just gazing at the thick, dark trees around you. It’s rather peaceful, you wonder if you landed on the same grounds that Chan did when he got that scar. You doubt it.

You gaze up at the sight, soft breaths and gentle eyes, and you start to think that the ground is much nicer than anyone has ever told you but suddenly, there’s a rustling in the bushes behind you. In an instant you feel cold.

Dreadfully cold.

So cold, you don’t dare to turn around, figure cowering in on itself as you shut your eyes tight when the rustling intensifies, turning into thudding footsteps that approach you. And then, it stops, and you believe for a gracing second if the thing has left you alone, but you know better than that because after just five seconds of silence, you hear it breathing from above.

“Wh—who are?” you murk up the courage to whimper, wincing as you hold a hand up to face your face.

Through the fingers, you catch the silhouette of a man. He doesn’t look much different from all the other boys you’ve seen before, and you wonder if you should take your chances and let your hands drop. 

“Are you …” Your breath hitches in when you finally look at him—chiseled jawline and sharp, cold eyes that watch you carefully. You feel your palms sink into the ground as you try to scurry back, but suddenly, it feels as though your hands can’t move. “... a demon?”

The pretty man smiles, but some funny feeling in your stomach tells you he isn’t exactly happy. He smiles oddly, and then he chuckles. He chuckles oddly, and then he laughs.

“What do you think, fairy?” His voice is cool and crisp, cutting through you like a blade of ice. The chill is thrilling. You think back to the story Seokmin always tells you. The scar on Chan’s ankle. The words of caution Joshua is always careful to remind you of.

“Y-you don’t look l-like the other—” You stop yourself from speaking because the shake in your voice is too much. You never even knew you could produce such a sound so potent in … fear? Enthrallment? Heat? You aren’t sure.

“The other what?” Slowly, he inches forward, and still you can’t find it in you to move away. You’re starting to think that you simply don’t want to.

His long, black hair wisps over his forehead and a few strands sit above his nose, and you can’t help but admire his natural elegance. He’s standing right next to you now, and as you look up at him, something in the back of your head buzzes.

Your ears are flooded with a white noise and some part of your brain is telling you you should be scared. You should be terrified, and you should wail for Joshua or Seokmin or Mingyu to come help but a much more convincing part of your brain tells you to stay put. To look up at this demon with wide eyes and parted lips. To whisper, “Demons. The other demons.”

He crouches over you now, so close that you feel his warm breath on your forehead. “Have you ever seen a demon?” You shake your head no, too afraid of the sound your throat might make if you try to speak.

He grins, and this time you don’t question the sincerity. He holds out a hand, and you think to yourself that such beautiful fingers could never taint skin like Chan’s.

“Let me show you,” he murmurs into the hazy air.

You don’t hesitate to take his hand.

Your magic comes back by the end of that day, and you are able to flutter your way up with Minghao’s name and a bidding farewell on your tongue.

You don’t tell the other fairies about what you do at night now. You don’t tell the other fairies how after everyone’s settled into their little abodes that linger from the branches, you creep out of your own. You don’t tell the other fairies about the beautiful views you see as you wisp through the trees, catching cool leaves on your skin as you slowly start to flutter down.

You don’t tell the other fairies of the little, illuminated pond you dip your toes into, or how when you turn around as your feet plant into the soil, Xu Minghao is already slipping into your line of vision from behind a thick trunk.

Dark cloth hangs off his chiseled figure, loose ends flowing with the night zephyrs. He sits on a rock by the pond as you cross your legs over on the verdant green grass, light dress splaying thinly over your thighs, skin shimmering under the moonlight.

He talks to you, tells you about his life, his friends. Every night, you listen with your lips slightly parted as you watch him and his dark hair. He teaches you about the ground, about the soft soil you sit upon, he teaches you about the roots of trees, about the little animals that scurry by the trunks, he teaches you that there is so much that lies beneath the tree tops, that there is so much you still don’t know.

Seungcheol laughed at Minghao earlier when he crept away from where he and his friends usually spend the night. “Going off to see your little fairy?” (Minghao wonders if the weird feeling in his stomach erupts from embarrassment at Seungcheol’s tone, or from a growing warmth when he refers to you as his.)

His friends find it a little funny—a fairy and a demon conversing at the dead of night, but he doesn’t really find it amusing at all.

Enthralling, would be the right word actually, because you come down every midnight where he teaches you, and he teaches you, and he teaches you so much, and your eyes are so beautiful, your voice so kind, your smile so bright, and so you teach him what it means for his heart to race.

You two sit together tonight, your hands neatly folded over your lap as you sit on your knees; Minghao sits next to you, legs out in front of him as he leans back on his arms. Under the light of the half moon above, you’re both silent.

You don’t have anything to say, not tonight. The cool air that sits between says enough.

Some time through the moments you sit in silence, Minghao has a hand brushing over your knee. The touch is gentle and cool like the breeze that washes over your bodies. He leaves his fingers there for a few, graciously long minutes, watching you from the corner of his vision to see if you’ll turn away.

He thinks he might lose his damn mind when you don’t move an inch. And so he moves an inch up your thigh, another inch and then he’s under the pretty petals of your skirt, another inch and then he’s almost brushing against the soft fabric that’s nestled between your legs.

Minghao watches you carefully—the way you chew on your bottom lip and your hands squeeze each other a little tighter and then—fuck, you’re squirming already?

“W-what are we doing Minghao?” you ask him so sweetly he feels he might melt into the ground and take you down with him. You have the vaguest of ideas of where this is going to go, and the thought makes your skin bloom with shivers.

“I …” His breath hitches in his throat when you look at him with eyes that look at him like he holds the universe. “I can show you.”

When you flutter your eyes shut, nodding as you whisper, “Show me,” into his mouth, Minghao wraps his arm around your torso and pulls you onto his lap. His kisses are slow but telling; pressing his lips into yours, tongue lapping at your mouth until you gasp and open yourself to him again. Legs locked around his sides as his hands grip onto your waist, your noses against each other in tandem in hopes to dig deeper into the kiss.

You’re shy against Minghao, lips working fervently—you can tell just from the way his fingers glide up and down your sides, the way his tongue melts into yours, the way he holds you—you feel so safe with him.

And then there he is, hands sliding beneath the skirt of your dress and bunching the shining fabric up to your waist; the cool air hits your skin as you gasp into Minghao’s mouth, hugging him closer instinctively. In doing so, you shift forward, core brushing dangerously close to the hardness between his dark pants, and you swear you hear Minghao mutter a curse you’ve never heard before. The sound makes your tummy do tumbles.

“You’ll let me take this off … hm?” he murmurs as he pulls away, fingers toying with the sheen hem of your skirt.

“Y-yeah,” you murmur, shuffling backwards so you slip off his lap. You lean back on your hands in the grass with a deep sigh, legs spreading out in front of you as Minghao climbs onto his knees. His fingers start at your ankle, and the way his hooded eyes watch you lustfully has your breath caught in your throat.

He slowly trails his fingers over your legs, starting from your calf and moving up until it’s brushing past your knees and suddenly his palms are pressing on your inner thighs and shoving your legs apart to reveal the pretty white panties that sit in the middle.

Your core buzzes with a heat, and you find your bottom lip clamped between your teeth as you try not to whine when Minghao’s finger grazes over the thin fabric. “M-mingh—hao,” you breath out, when he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck and sucks hard against the skin.

Your skin flushes with heat and a sharp sting when his teeth graze over you, but the small moan that leaves your lips sings a melody of pleasure as he swipes his tongue over the bruising mark. Your mouth falls wide open, neck falling back, and Minghao slots one hand between your legs, pressing the pads of two fingers against that one bundle of nerves that has you squirming into the ground.

“O-oh,” you mutter as your hips start to erratically swivel against his in hopes for more friction.

“Patience fairy,” Minghao sings in that sickly sweet tone of his. You wonder if he dropped from the treetops himself from the way he coos so kindly.

“It feels—oh … Oh, Minghao—”

“Tell me pretty … tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispers in a dangerously low tone, breath fanning over your neck in a way that sends shivers down your spine. Minghao traces methodical circles around your clit, and you can feel a warm wetness grow beneath your panties, causing the fabric to stick against your slick core.

You want to thrash in his arms and squirm into his hold—you want to let tears well up in your eyes and cry because everything’s feeling so good and you can’t think … can’t manage a single damn word.

“Feels—feels good,” you manage out in broken huffs of breath, legs spreading wider than you thought they could. Minghao chuckles as he lifts his head back to watch the way you tremble in front of him, and if you weren’t so dizzy on pleasure, you’d be burning from embarrassment.

“Yeah? Can make you feel even better if you …” He shrugs casually and gestures towards your dress and panties. “If you move some stuff out of the way.”

You don’t hesitate to yank at the straps of your dress,  shoving them down haphazardly with trembling fingers. You’re on fire, if anything, and Minghao grins widely as he helps you desperately shimmy out of your clothes.

You start with the dress, flowy fabric slipping off your shoulders and falling down your stomach, finally pooling at your hips where Minghao takes control and pulls it off your legs. You’re left clad in only your panties which are now sheen with arousal, cool air pricking at your bare skin under the moonlight.

“Oh fairy,” Minghao nearily moans when you finally lay back down on the grass, tits bare and spilling all over your chest as your naked legs make room for him to sit between them. “So pretty … so naughty …”

“‘m not naughty,” you try to mumble, but the hoarse desperation in your voice gives you away. “J-just, wanna feel go—oh—good,” you finish with a heavy sigh when Minghao’s fingers are at your core again but this time, sliding your panties to the side to reveal your folds.

“Feeling good, huh pretty?” Minghao murmurs, not giving you a moment’s rest as he plunges his fingers right into the dripping mess. You cry out, back arching off the soft grass as you feel the length of his long, thick fingers slide between your pulsing folds.

“Oh, f-fu—” Your eyebrows furrow when you feel one finger circle around your glistening hole, causing your whole body to twitch with an ache you didn’t even know was possible to feel.

“Say it fairy, say it,” Minghao groans, hearing the dying words on your lips.

“It’s dirty,” you whimper, one hand shooting down to circle around his wrist as you try to guide his finger into your throbbing hole, but Minghao holds his stature firm.

“Say it, or I won’t make you feel good,” he threatens, and your eyes widen as a complaint bubbles at your throat. The way Minghao gives you that warning, predatory look shuts you right up.

“Oh—oh fuck,” you finally mewl. The way your plush lips let the word fall so kindly from your lips has Minghao’s head spinning, and he can’t even find it in him to control himself when he finally sinks his fingers into your hot cunt. “Minghao—”

“So scandalous, huh pretty?” Minghao asks you with condescension dripping from his tone as your eyes roll to the back of your head when he rubs his fingers against your gummy walls. “The perfect fairy … messing around with some fuckin’ mean-faced, bad, bad demon.”

“‘s’not like that,” you try to gasp out, core throbbing when he somehow sinks his fingers in deeper. Your legs writhe around Minghao, but his firm hand plants itself on your right thigh, pressing you down and into compliance.

He hums lowly, the sound rumbling deep in his throat as he watches you struggle to keep your composure; Minghao can see it already—the way your forearms tremble under your weight as you lose yourself to him entirely. “You sure fairy? ‘cause from what I’m seeing … it’s exactly like that.”

There’s a protest right at the tip of your tongue but then he grazes against this one spot inside your hot, tight cunt that has you crying out, head thrown back, eyes rolling all over the place until you’re panting: “M-Minghao it feels—oh, don’t stop!”

There’s a dark sort of grin that tugs at his plush lips as those words leave your mouth. With one eyebrow raised, he starts to fuck his fingers into you faster, thumb toying roughly with your clit as you mindlessly buck your hips into his hand. “Aw, my pretty’s gonna cum? You gonna cum?”

There isn’t a single thought in your mind, and even if there was, you wouldn’t be able to comprehend what Minghao was saying, yet still there’s that funny, burning feeling building in your stomach as all you know is that you don’t want to let it—you can’t let it stop. “Y-yeah,” you whimper as your walls tighten around his fingers. “Yeah … H-hao—I wanna cum.”

Minghao smirks at the slurred words, placing a kiss on your shoulder blade when he feels you spasm under him. “Cum for me, fairy,” he murmurs when you cry out his name, hands flying up to grip his shoulders as waves of pleasure crash down on you.

Broken words die at your lips as you erupt into high pitched moans , orgasm taking over you; Minghao sucks and nips at your neck until finally tracing his lips up to yours, engulfing you in a deep kiss as you ride out the high.

“There we go fairy, pretty fairy … looks so cute when she cums …” Minghao says once he finally pulls away, gazing down at your blown out eyes as you struggle to sit up right. Steadily, he lifts his hand from between your legs, tracing the warm stickiness across the insides of your thighs before holding it up in front of your face.

“Th-that’s—” You inhale deeply before continuing, still staring at the glistening arousal that coats his fingers. “—that’s embarrassing, Minghao,” you rush out, reaching out to swat his hand away, but he dodges and instead plunges the fingers in his own mouth.

His eyes don’t break away from yours, staring down at you in a way that has your sensitive core buzzing all over again with that sweet excitement. “You taste so good, pretty,” Minghao says lustfully, finally pulling his fingers out with a loud popping sound. He watches you carefully for a few moments—the way your pupils are dilated, your bare chest heaving gently, skin wearing a glossy layer of sweat, face flush with swollen lips …

Minghao wants to ruin you.

“You’ll let me do more, pretty?” he asks, and the way he peers down at you with dark, alluring eyes has your head nodding before you can even think to imagine what Minghao means by more. “Good fairy,” he purrs, crawling onto his knees back between your legs, nudging your thighs apart.

“What—what are we doing?” you ask him innocently, eyes widening when he reaches for the dark, ragged shirt that hugs his torso and pulls it off. Your first instinct is to reach out and touch because fuck, he’s beautiful, and you’ve always been one to admire the beautiful.

His body is firm with muscle, heavy round shoulders shining under the moonlight as you back into the ground. Minghao is on top of you now, hands on either side of your head as he hovers over you. “You’ll feel good,” he tells you, watching how you run your hands all over his sides as if you were a child being shown candy for the first time.

“Again?” you ask innocently, eyelashes batting up to look him in the eye as your hands instinctively find the waistband of his pants. Minghao lets one corner of his lips lift up in a half smile, nodding his head as if to tell you to go on.

“Yeah, again,” Minghao reaffirms, and you’d be lying if you didn’t squeeze your thighs just a little closer together at the thought. “We’ll feel good together,” he says, and oh this will mark the loss of your sanity, because something in your blood buzzes at the thought of Minghao feeling good right alongside you and you spiral.

Suddenly desperate, you’re yanking down his pants—you don’t even know what’s coming your way (have no clue really), but you also don’t care because you’re just so needy and you know (you just know) Minghao will give it all.

“There we go,” he coos, helping you out with one hand to shove down the dark pants and black underwear that sits beneath. His length springs out in an instant, firm as it hits against your inner thigh with a loud slapping sound that rings in your ears.

Eyes glossy as you mindlessly gaze down at him, your mouth watering at the mere sight of the flush red tip, milky white oozing out from the top and glittering under the minimal light. “You like the sight, fairy?” he asks, reaching to pinch your cheek lightly. Your nose scrunches up for a moment, but you soon lean into his touch when your eyes trail back down to his thick length.

“Y-yeah,” you admit bashfully, letting him shuffle closer between your legs until his length sits on your stomach, balls pressed against your puffy folds. The light contact has your head going dizzy already, and takes every ounce of self restraint to not moan at the feeling.

“G’na be right here here,” Minghao mutters, running his wet fingers over the base of his length, holding it up just to tap it back down on the base of your stomach. “Cock’s gonna fuck you all the way here,” and the thought of being so deep seems to be just as numbing to Minghao as it is to you because you catch the way he gulps down hard.

“Please,” you choke out when he shifts against you, his cock brushing against your throbbing clit a bit harder. “Please—fuck, I need it now, Hao—please.”

“Poor fairy,” Minghao groans, pulling his hips back so his cock no longer rests against your stomach but now slides between your sticky folds. “Poor, poor baby … begging a filthy demon for his cock.”

The way your cunt tightens around nothing at his words has you questioning everything anyone has ever told you, but the thoughts are wiped from your mind when his fat tip nudges against your now aching hole.

“Oh fuck, it’s s’big Minghao,” you murmur when he presses himself into you. “O-oh, I don’t—I don’ think s’gonna fit,” you gasp out when he slips in further, eyes stinging with tears of both pain and pleasure.

“You want to stop?” he asks, stilling his movements.

“No!” you exclaim, a little too quickly maybe, because your excitement has Minghao’s eyes darkening in a way that tells you you’re really in for it now. “I-I—no … I don’t want you to stop.”

“Hm,” Minghao hums while nodding. “Then there’s nothing to worry about,” he says casually in that low, gravely voice that has your breath getting stuck in your throat. “I’ll make it fit.”

Your legs tremble when he sinks his length into you even deeper, punching moans right out of your lungs and squirming under his arms until you feel his pelvis brush against your clit. You’re a babbling mess right now, Minghao having his chest pressed against yours as you whisper into his mouth about how it “feels so good,” how you “feel s’full,” how you’re “in love … so in love.”

“See fairy,” he murmurs, dragging his length out at a dangerously slow pace before shoving back into you at once so fast his balls slap against your skin with a harsh sting. “Made it fit, didn’t I?”

You wanna cry out and say yeah, yeah he fucking did, but your tongue feels like lead when you try to speak, only moans and squeaks of pleasure escaping your lips as his cock fucks into you faster. Minghao’s got one hand by your head, the other trailing all over your body—tracing the curves of your torso, cupping the flesh of your tits, playing with the sensitive nub of your nipple—you might as well be insane from the way your blood rushes at the feeling.

It’s so much—so, so, so much and you aren’t even sure how your body is taking it all, but there Minghao is, whispering sweet, dirty nothings by the shell of your ear.

“You like it? You like it don’t you fairy?”

“Wonder what the other fairies would think of this …”

“Moan louder pretty … put on a show for the whole damn forest, will you?”

It’s a muddled mess in your head, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you dig your heels into the ground to help thrust your own hips upwards to meet the snap of Minghao’s hips. The sloshing puddle of wetness between your thighs lets out obscene sounds that bounce off the trees around you. You wonder if you should be ashamed by how the sound makes your cunt clench.

“Put your hands up pretty,” Minghao grunts through sharp, pointed thrusts. The words fly over you for a moment, not understanding a bit of what he’s saying until his movements still and your eyes widen.

“W-what—why’d you—”

“Put your hands up.”

“S-sorry,” you moan in blind compliance, quickly lifting your hands and crossing your wrists above your head. Minghao’s larger hand is over them in an instant, pressing them into the soft grass as he goes back to fucking into you.

It’s messy now; hips jamming into hips in a passionately frantic pattern that has your body throttling in all kinds of directions until that familiar feeling balls inside of you once more. “Hao, ‘m gonna cum—”

“Wait. We’re supposed to feel together, right? Isn’t that right fairy?”

“Fuck!” you whine, hands thrashing under the strong hold Minghao has on you, desperate to touch him. “Don’t think I can wait, Minghao—oh—”

“You can do it fairy, do it for me,” he demands, punctuating the last word with a deep thrust that has your stomach feeling like it’s being pushed just to make room for him. “Hold it,” he orders, and you would be damned if you disobeyed Minghao, and so you dig your fingers into his back and pull him down for a deep kiss, trying to hold off from your impending orgasm.

He kisses you sloppily, and there’s tongue and teeth and lips all over each other until you’re both pantining into each others’ mouths. “Are you gonna cum?” you ask frantically when he pulls away, eyebrows furrowed with pure desperation. “Please—please, oh my g—Minghao, I need a cum!” you cry out as your walls begin to flutter and your legs begin to shake.

“Cum fairy—cum all over me,” Minghao groans when you tighten around his cock as he rails into you relentlessly, feeling his own end come near. “Lemme cum inside, pretty, fuck—”

Your mind spins at the thought of Minghao filling your hot cunt up and you can’t even think straight before you start to beg, “Yes, yes, yes please.”

“Fuck, gonna let me fill this fairy pussy all the way up, huh? Oh—pretty, fuck I’ll cum if you keep squeezing me like tha—oh.”

Something warm fills your core, walls spasming in an overstimulated mess as Minghao continues to fuck the oozing liquid back into you with vigor. “Shit—Minghao,” you whimper once his hips finally start to slow and eventually still, softening cock flopping out of your drenched folds.

His eyes are sharp as they watch you look up at him hazily. “That felt nice,” you murmur, swaying a little as the aftermath of two orgasms leaves you a trembling mess. Minghao is quick to reach for you, steadying you in his arms and onto his lap, bringing you in for a kiss.

It’s soft and sloppy, and you can feel your senses getting muddled up all over again as you cuddle into him. Minghao chuckles softly, looking down at your figure and then the dark trees that are around.

“Fuck, fairy …” He grins when he catches a glint of a dark eyed demon in the shadows. “You really put on a damn show, huh?”

(Minghao wonders how many times he’ll get to fuck you before Jeonghan starts telling the other demons about your guys’ little secret. Not that that’ll stop him anyways—he’s got the prettiest fairy in the whole damn forest at the palm of his hands, and he’d be damned if he let you go.)

[redwinewhiteroses]

What are your future spouse's qualities? 🧡💛🧡👰🤵👼

Masterlist

Purple butterfly

First of all I'm seeing your fs is a social butterfly. Very very outgoing, radiant and lively. They might feel really content with themselves so they reflect this warm peaceful celebratory joy into the world. They might nurture and foster connections with people from a very genuine place in their hearts often times celebrating people and their loved ones.

Your fs might be a very strong and resilient person. They will put up a good fight to defend their loved ones. They might also be protective of you and your children and will defend you like a warrior. Your fs will face challenges head on and will be really courageous. They will always stand up for what they believe in.

Your fs might be highly skilled and a master manifestor. They get what they want and they possess the power to create what they want. They might be charismatic and will really stand out in a crowd. They might be skilled at multiple different things, could be a jack of all trades and will most definitely be good at all those things.

They are very well put together and will have a commanding presence. They must be super confident about themselves. They might value  and respect people and will demand to be treated the same way. Your fs could be a CEO or an entrepreneur.

Your fs might be very intellectual. They have a strong sense of self and not easily swayed by things. They might not be emotional as much, definitely more inclined to logical thinking. They might really value honest and clear communication. Honesty could be a priority to them. They might have a zest for life. A hardworker, creative and analytical could be some of their most prominent qualities. Your fs could be well accomplished in life and could be quite independent on their own. Could uphold positions of power and definitely commands a lot of respect from others.

Random messages : Enchanting, Ask and you will have it, I'm sorry, Wit and humor/Gemini/Sagittarius, Forest retreat, Soul's desire, Mystic, It's always you, Hope for something more, Going with the flow, Try again, Forgive and forget

Vibes they give off : Harvey Specter from Suits

Blue butterfly

Your fs could be a bit of a loner. They would fight for what they want even if they are the last one standing. Might have a win at all costs attitude. On the downside they will be quite cold and people could resent them sometimes. They might be a bit aggressive and get involved in conflicts easily. They could possess a sharp intellect and see things through. They might make enemies or get on the bad side of people. They could be a bit manipulative and will try to have the last word on anything and everything. Could be a fighter and a tough cookie. They could go by the motto 'Never back down, Never give up' .

Your fs is very introspective and will be on a constant journey of self discovery. They might seek a deeper meaning in life. They might be disatisfied with the circumstances of their life and will try to reinvent themselves and will desire to find more authentic experiences in life. They might not be driven by material rewards but rather value experiences and constant evolution beyond the material realm.

Your fs could be a bit restless and impatient. They might be facing delays and obstacles in creating their desired reality. They could face a few setbacks in life which will create a sense of disappointment in themselves.

Your fs might struggle to give and receive care and affection to some degree. They have this inner turmoil which restricts their nurturing side. They might be dealing with mental health struggles or stress might be a major theme in their life. They might be a bit possessive and act from a place of low self esteem. They could struggle with issues related to self worth and lack of purpose.

This might just be a major theme in their life during a significant time frame in their life. Nothing is set in stone. This is the current energies of your fs. This is not a final verdict. Remember life goes on constantly, redefining things and situations day by day. So have hope that things will get better eventually.

Random messages : Light hair, Yes, Sail the seas, I want to control/Mars/Aries/Charge, Love, Damsel in distress, Wait for me, Ill will, Love is light

Vibes they give off : Professor Snape from HP

Green butterfly

Your fs might have a difficulty of letting go of things that no longer serve them. They could hold on to the past and resist change. They might display feelings of nostalgia, regret and fear the uncertain. They could hold onto things for their emotional significance and memories. They could reminisce about their childhood often and may have an emotional attachment to their past due to some reason. Your fs can be someone who thinks they were born in the wrong generation. They might love vintage stuff and lifestyles from a different era. They could feel a bit out of place in the dynamics of the present world. They might have an interest in history, archaeology or philosophy. For some of you, your fs could be a librarian, anthropologist or a historian. They could be a bit restless and indecisive. They could be prone to overthinking and running in circles.

They could possess strong traditional values and beliefs. They could be a mentor, a teacher, professor, a guide or a coach. They can have some outdated beliefs as well. They could hold onto long-held traditions and practices to the point they will resist evolving. They could be a bit impractical and stubborn. They could be a conservative person, maybe religious, wise and emotionally stable. They might be well respected among people and seen as a dependable figure. They could even be a religious leader. They can be significantly older than you or very mature beyond their age. They have a love for traditions. They consider courting, marriage and commitment very seriously. They value stability, practicality and has a strong moral compass and will hold people accountable. They value morals, good intentions and values. They might have an ethnic background or might have some special cultural practices. They could be from generational wealth, true old money. They really do have some unique structure in their life kinda like old, refined, antique and of deep value. They might drive a vintage car. For some your fs could even be living in a mansion or has an estate.

Your fs might be recovering from a heartbreak, a past sorrow or pain. Maybe they lost someone who was quite influential in his life like a grandparent, a teacher or a parent figure. Maybe that's the reason of your fs looking back into the past. They have newfound strength and overcoming emotional pain. Your fs's emotional journey is marked by a gradual release of sorrow and an embrace of healing and growth. They could be a counselor, therapist or even a writer. People might be inspired by your fs's journey of overcoming pain and past hurts. Your fs could be inspiring people to be stronger by sharing their story or personal experiences. They may be guiding others to overcome emotional conflicts.

Your fs might have a zest for life. They can be incredibly passionate about life. They can be lively and active. They're passionate, optimistic and might take risks and have a thrill for life. They possess leadership qualities and a strong desire for actions. They are assertive and takes initiative. They might lead your relationship and I'm seeing wise leadership. They'll believe in traditional gender roles and will provide emotional security and material stability in the relationship. Your fs respects you and loves you in a gentle but passionate way.

Random messages : Cute romance, Sweet kiss, No way, Running with the wolves, Sour cream, Say something, You are on the right path, Aphrodite, I'm wondering why, Harmonious, Diabolical, Fruitfulness

Vibes they give off :

Thomas Shelby from Peaky Blinders

Edward Cullen from Twilight

Red butterfly

Your fs might be a really strong individual. Definitely good looking and charismatic. Will most likely have a commanding presence. We got two kings here and the magician. Your fs will defend their loved ones like a warrior. They will face challenges head on and won't fear fighting for what they truly believe in.

Your fs might be a bit closed off at first. They can have their guard up. They might also not see their truest potential. I think they underestimate themselves constantly and might feel trapped by their own mental chains. They tend to feed their own mental limitations. But I think they are capable of more, they just don't see that for themselves.

Your fs might motivate people around them. They will encourage you with words of affirmation all the time. They definitely have a strong sense of self assurance and will be in control. They can be tall and charismatic and extremely good looking. Might have a great sex appeal. They are very driven (might have high libido) courageous and passionate. They have a warm hearted nature. For some of you guys, your fs can be a CEO, entrepreneur, self-accomplished businessman, creative director or an authoritative figure.

Your fs might be fiercely competitive. They like to test their own limits. Might enjoy dangerous hobbies and martial arts. They might enjoy physical fights or activities that require strength and endurance. They might be really good in bed if you know what I mean. They can go for a few rounds at a time without getting tired. Extremely passionate and strong. They can be quite passionate in arguments as well so it's better to solve problems without delay. They might like competing with others and they thrive in competitive environments. Your fs will be in the spotlight and they stand out in any crowd. They could a sportsperson for some you guys.

Your fs is highly skilled in many things. They are really creative. Might be good with their hands. They will be a very well put together person. Will have a good sense of style and a knack for aesthetics.

Your fs can be mature and have a zest for life. They are passionate about living life you know. They might enjoy hiking, vacations and experiencing new things. Your fs is really really wealthy and abundant. They might be successful or even famous. They have a lot of achievements under their belt. They are incredibly protective of their loved ones and have a strong sense of responsibility towards them. They are secure in themselves and people can easily rely on them. They might build a lasting legacy with you. They could be working in finance or real estate.

You guys could have a lavish wedding and you also might live in a beautiful home. Your marriage will be stable and quite passionate.

Random messages : Christmas time, Haphazard, Miraculous, Count to three, Eat up, Love and care, Why do you avoid me?, What do you want?, It's easier when you sleep

Vibes they give off : Christian Grey from Fifty Shades

Nick from My fault

Thanks for joining me!

[jadeshifting]

— THE HOGWARTS NEWSPAPER

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

i’ve had this in my script and my drafts for a while, but i saw @beatrixshifts mention on my tl that it would be cool so that’s why i’m posting it >:)

(also, I did not come up with the name of the newspaper, i got it from another user yearsss ago, so cred to them !!)

“The Daily Prophet and their flobberworm of a head reporter can keep their drama— we don’t twist our stories to fit some stale Ministry narrative.” — The Editor-in-Chief of The Puffinton Post

THE PUFFINGTON POST is a chaotic yet strangely efficient operation run out of a repurposed classroom on the third floor (which is lovingly referred to as The Quillery.) run by a rotating team of overachievers, gossipmongers, and one sleep-deprived layout wizard, it’s both a battlefield of deadlines and the social pulse of the school. the editors use enchanted Quick-Quotes Quills to speed up production, though it’s anyone’s guess if the quills capture actual facts or just the juiciest version of the truth

HOW IT’S RUN

the team is led by an Editor-in-Chief (usually a loud, opinionated seventh-year), assisted by a handful of section editors who wield red-inked quills like weapons. each week, they hold heated brainstorming meetings, where the room crackles with enchanted floating parchment and enough spilled tea (literal and metaphorical) to fill the Great Lake. submissions are open to any student, but staff writers get first dibs on big stories—assuming they can charm the editors, who love a bit of drama

THE NEWSPAPER TEAM

REPORTERS . scout the juiciest gossip, biggest news, and weirdest happenings on campus. practically unstoppable, they’ll dive into the Forbidden Forest for a scoop if it means landing the front page

EDITORS . ruthlessly revise articles and argue over headlines, aiming for maximum drama without ending up on a professor’s radar

PHOTOGRAPHERS . armed with charmed cameras that capture moving images, they often risk life and limb chasing Quidditch players mid-match or snapping Peeves in action

ILLUSTRATORS . craft whimsical moving cartoons or hauntingly detailed sketches, depending on the tone of the piece

LAYOUT TEAM . use advanced spellwork to arrange articles, images, and enchanting advertisements that sometimes wink at readers

SECTIONS & NOTABLE STORIES

HEADLINE NEWS . covers Hogwarts’ biggest events. Recent splashy stories include “Are the House-Elves Planning a Union?” and “Hagrid’s Pumpkin Patch: A Site of Magical Growth or Magical Mischief?”

QUIDDITCH CORNER . tracks team stats, with columns like “Is Gryffindor’s Seeker Actually a Golden Snitch Magnet?”

SOCIAL SPOTLIGHT . a slightly catty, endlessly entertaining rundown of who’s dating, who’s fighting, and who’s been caught sneaking butterbeer into the Astronomy Tower

MYSTERIES & ODDITIES . a deep dive into Hogwarts lore, featuring pieces like “The Hidden Staircase That Eats Shoes” and “Who Really Haunts the Fourth Floor Lavatory?”

OPINION & SATIRE . snarky takes on everything from new potion regulations to the controversial topic of house unity, with regular features like “Why Ravenclaws Think They Know Everything” (written by a Ravenclaw)

CREATIVE SHOWCASE . poems, short stories, and student artwork, like “An Ode to Dobby” or fine-tip pen sketches of the Black Lake’s grindylows

DISTRIBUTION

The Puffington Post is distributed every Friday morning via enchanted paper airplanes that zoom directly to breakfast tables in the Great Hall. the magic wears off if you take too long to read, so dawdling isn’t an option. prefects often complain about students reading under their desks during Charms, but professors secretly subscribe, too.

SPECIAL EDITIONS (every one is a chaotic affair, jam-packed with so much Hogwarts spirit you can almost smell the butterbeer stains on the parchment)

— THE VALENTINE’S SPECIAL : Love, Lies, and Lacewing Potions

this edition is dripping with enchanted hearts and aggressively pink margins, with stories like “Top 10 Secret Spots to Swoon Your Sweetheart” and “The Most Romantic Love Potions You Absolutely Shouldn’t Use (But Totally Will).” the gossip column goes full throttle, outing secret crushes (with questionable accuracy), while the Creative Showcase features poetry so sappy even Madam Pince has been caught dabbing at her eyes

— THE FIRST-YEAR SURVIVAL GUIDE : Sorting, Snitches, and Surviving Snape

released every September, it’s a crash course for newbies. expect practical tips like “How to Get the Moving Stairs to Chill” and “10 Ways to Not Cry in Potions (Impossible, But Worth Trying).” veteran students contribute anonymously to the “Unofficial Rules” section, which includes gems like “Don’t Look the Bloody Baron in the Eye” and “If Fred and George Weasley Offer You Candy, Run.”

— THE YULE BALL EDITION : Fashion, Feuds, and Footwork

a glossy, glitzy masterpiece with enchanted images of past Yule Ball outfits and step-by-step charms for fixing last-minute wardrobe disasters. the Social Spotlight section is essentially a pre-ball betting pool on who’s showing up with whom, while Opinion dives into debates like “Should Durmstrang Boys Be Banned from Stealing All the Dates?”

— THE END-OF-TERM SPECTACULAR : Grades, Gags, and the Great House Cup Debate

published in June, it’s part celebration, part roast. professors get “awards” (like Flitwick for Most Patient and Snape for Most Likely to Kill You with a Glare), and there’s always a cheeky exposé on house-point shenanigans. expect tear-jerking farewells to seventh-years alongside brutally honest year-in-review recaps, like “Was That a Troll in the Dungeon or Just Another Tuesday?”

EXTRA, EXTRA !!

— RIVALRY . there’s a (very one-sided) feud with The Weekly Wizard, a smaller Ravenclaw-run zine, though it’s been dismissed by most students as “too niche and painfully dull”

— BEHIND THE SCENES . the staff always keeps a stash of Honeydukes’ chocolate for late-night edits, and their mascot—a tiny enchanted quill named Zippy—flits around leaving motivational doodles on unfinished articles

if Hogwarts has a pulse, The Puffington Post is the enchanted quill jotting down every thrilling, bizarre, and scandalous beat

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

[snail-noodle]

Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader

Before he got corrupted, he was once called Light Milk Cookie (I'll change it once they reveal his true past name in canon)

I may have went a bit far with these.... enjoy 🤗

◇◇◇◇◇◇

💙 Before his corruption, he was known as Light Milk Cookie. You first met him when he stopped to rest at your village. You were absolutely mesmerized at his appearance, barely catching onto his question. "I've traveled quite a distance. Is there perhaps an inn around here that I could rest at?"

You stuttered as you offered him a room to stay in your home, informing him that your village had no inn, just a few shops. Hearing your offer, he gave you the most beautiful smile you have ever seen from a cookie, thanking you for your generosity.

💙 Light Milk Cookie had meant to stay in your village just for a day or two. In the end, he ended up staying for 3 whole weeks! Word had gotten out to the other villagers that one of the Five Great Cookies had arrived to their humble little town. Some believed he had stayed to show and tell the villagers of his knowledge that he had received throughout the years. In truth, he had stayed for you.

💙 During his stay, he spent most of his time with you. You would both talk about your favorite hobbies, your dreams, and the places you wish to see. Light Milk Cookie would listen to you with great interest, mentally keeping notes of what you like, what you didn't like, things you yearned for, and so much more.

💙 Your village is founded in the middle of a forest with a river nearby. You were a bit more adventurous than those in your village, so you would show him the many hidden spots that had the best sceneries in the forest. There was eventually a moment where the two of you had confessed your feelings for each other. The gentle sound of running water of the nearby river and the soft chirps from the birds among the trees only made the moment even more intimate and romantic.

The two of you practically spent the whole day in that quiet little spot. Hidden away from prying eyes, the two of lay close to each other, your hand entangled with his as you listened to his many stories of his past adventures with his friends.

💙 Before he left to continue his journey, he left you an enchanted scroll. He laughed softly at your confused face, "This scroll will allow us to communicate, even when we're far apart from each other." Reaching inside his backpack, he took out another scroll and a quill pen. He took a moment to write something, and once he finished and closed the scroll, the soft chime of a bell rang from the scroll you had been holding.

Opening the scroll, you blushed as you read what he had written for you. "This is.. this is amazing!" You gazed at the scroll with wonder and excitement. Light Milk Cookie's heart fluttered at your praise. The enchanted scroll had been a new idea that he came up with recently. To hear this from you filled his heart with so much joy!

💙 With an embrace and a loving kiss, you bid him a farewell. You stood at your front door, your gaze never leaving his form as he grew smaller the further he walked away. Only when he was completely out of sight did you finally return back to your home. He had left you the magic scroll, but he had also left you with a few items of his own. You reached for the scarf that he had gifted you, you giggled as you wrapped it around your neck, the sweet smell of blueberries enveloping your senses.

💙 As time went on, the two of you would exchange letters to each other at every moment. The sound of a bell ringing in your house almost every minute. Weeks would go by as he would tell you about every cookie and creature he would encounter in his path. Some good, some bad, and some downright strange. As the holder of Knowledge itself, you knew he was stronger than any other cookie in this world. Still, you can't help but worry whenever he mentioned having to fight a beast or some vile bandits.

💙 Just as he wrote you about his encounters, he wrote you many poems dedicated to you and your hometown. Some had you giggling, and some had you completely red in the face. His words were like honey; He yearned to have you by his side, to join him in his own kingdom. He made promises to take you to see the vast world that is Earthbread.

💙 Eventually, he had reached his destination and promised to send you a letter later that night. You waited a whole day, but then that day turned to weeks, and those weeks turned to months. Your mind and soul ached with worry for your lover. You would send him a letter once a day, hoping for any response. Your heart is aching for his comforting words.

Nothing.

💙 One morning, as you were preparing breakfast to start your day, you froze as the sound of a bell chimed across the house. Rushing to your room with tears in your eyes, you quickly grabbed the scroll from your desk, your hands shaking as you read what he wrote you.

I'm coming, my dearest.

A shriek of terror was heard outside the moment you finished reading the words. Your heart pounded with fear as you ran outside to see the commotion. You gasped at the sight before you. What once was a beautiful morning sky has now turned to complete darkness. Eyes... many blue blinking eyes, big and small, littered the dark abyss. All of them seemed to be looking straight at you.

💙 Laughter. The sound of laughter rang out throughout the sky. "At last, at last! I've returned to you, my love!" You gasped as a cookie suddenly appeared right in front of you, causing you to stumble back and fall. Before you could even hit the ground, the strange cookie caught you just in time.

"Be careful, my precious pearl! Wouldn't want you to crumble so soon!" His eyes twinkled at you mischievously, giving you the most biggest grin you've ever seen from a cookie. You looked at the strange cookie, no, the strange jester, with confusion. His voice, the hair, and those brilliant blue eyes. They reminded you so much of him. Surely it couldn't be...?

"Light Milk Cookie?"

[soberpluto]

Examining Neptune's Spell

Apologies for not being here after so much time, but now I'm back and very thrilled to share this with you all! I'm hopeful many can find this helpful.

Unnecesary context aside, just recently I was having a long and deep conversation with a friend of mine about my semi-recurring mini existential crises. After hearing me patiently, with the dear intention of making me realize I was drowning in my tiny glass of water, he simply (and brilliantly) replied:

"I think you're problem is that you have unrealistic expectations about yourself."

Any attempt to blurt out in self-defense ceased instantly because of how deep these words sunk in my mind. I stared into the wall before for me and felt how the missing puzzle piece finally dropped into the perfect spot. Obviously, the thought of having my sun in Cancer and Neptune in almost exact opposition popped inside, and it took a WHOLE new dimmension. How could this statement not be true?! OF COURSE he was right! It's not that I wasn't told that before or haven't read about it multiple times in my astrology studies, but the truth is, (a very Neptunian thing now that I think about it) I didn't believe it quite applied to me. Because I don't like to feel mediocre and because I think of myself as a spiritual and highly self-aware woman, I was convinced that holding myself to "unrealistic standards" was definitely NOT the reason that triggered me to want fleed to a desert islands at times when reality felt like too much. It was bitterly humorous when I realized I evidently missed the fact that Neptune was making a hell of a job doing what he does best: casting its spells of illusion and glittery distorted beliefs about how things were "supposed to be" in a surprisingly unadverted way into my life. I was truly relieved to actually understand (or accept, better said) why trying to have a simple and happy life seemed too tricky at times. It all made sense.

Now, let me introduce Neptune, if you happen to be unacquainted.

Neptune in astrology is like the ultimate dream weaver, spinning a web of intuition, imagination, and mystery. It’s the planet of all things ethereal, where reality gets a little blurry, and you’re invited to dive into the deep end of fantasy, spirituality, and idealism. Neptune whispers, "What if?" and suddenly, we're seeing the world through a kaleidoscope of possibilities, but a "little" foggy on the details. We're all influenced by Neptune one way or another, but when it touches personal planets or points in our charts, it’s like life hands us a pair of customized rose-colored glasses, but the prescription is way off. Suddenly, everything feels a bit magical, like we're starring in your own fairytale, except the castle is made of mist, the prince might just be a mirage, and that enchanted forest? It’s actually a parking lot.

But why bother making us feel loony? On a more serious note, our master illusionist possesses the higher purpose of awakening our connection to something greater than the everyday grind. It gently pulls us out of the rigid boundaries of reality and whispers, "There’s more to life than meets the eye." It invites us to explore the depths of our imagination, spirituality, and compassion, blurring the lines between self and universe. The illusions it creates are really a nudge to dissolve our ego’s grip, helping us see beyond the material and embrace a higher sense of love, creativity, and unity with the cosmos.

As inspiring and touching as it sounds, the catch is that fulfilling Neptune’s mission can feel like chasing fog—just when we think we’ve got a handle on it, it slips through our fingers. Neptune wants us to transcend reality and connect with the divine, but let’s be real: that’s not exactly a day-to-day, grocery-list-friendly goal. For someone with heavy Neptune influence, this pursuit of higher meaning can be disorienting, leaving them feeling lost in a sea of "what ifs" and "maybes." And thanks to its grandeur idealism, it can push people to be hypersensitive, highly fearful of failure and completely inaccurate with what they may achieve in a day, let alone a lifetime!

For a Neptunian, the intuitive desire to be flawless and sufficient does not come from wordly expectations, but from a place of soulful calling that more often unconsciously than consciously tells them they're limitless beings living in a limited reality. And this is exactly the greatest challenge of all: to accept that the truth must be known while respecting the illusion, just as a spiritual teacher Michael Mirdad states.

That said, you can imagine what happens when mystical and whimsical Neptune gets cozy with your personal planets. Let's see in detail how it sprinkles its glitter them:

Sun

Soft Aspects: With soft aspects, your Sun is shining brighter than ever! Neptune sprinkles fairy dust on your creativity and confidence, making you feel like a superstar in your own musical. It’s all about embracing your spiritual side and believing that you can conquer the world—cape optional!

Hard Aspects: You’re the artist of your own identity, but the canvas keeps shifting. One day you’re an astronaut, the next day you’re a poet, and by the end of the week, you’re contemplating becoming a full-time mystic. Neptune tells you, "Be everything," but sometimes that just leaves you wondering, "Who am I, really?"

Moon

Soft Aspects: Your emotions flow like a gentle river, and you’re tuned in to everyone’s feelings like a super empath (you could be a cool wizard/witch or clairvoyant!). Neptune wraps you in a cozy blanket of intuition, making heartfelt connections feel like a warm hug from the universe. Cue the happy tears!

Hard Aspects: Enter the emotional whirlpool! Neptune can stir up your feelings like a cosmic blender, leading to mood swings and a general sense of overwhelm. You might find yourself daydreaming your way through real-life emotions, and good luck figuring out what you actually feel!

Mercury

Soft Aspects: With Neptune’s gentle nudge, your thoughts become a beautiful symphony! Communication flows like honey, and you’re bursting with creative ideas. It’s a fantastic time for writing, brainstorming, or chatting about all things magical and dreamy! You could be a music lover, a great singer or a romantic poet.

Hard Aspects: But when Neptune goes rogue, it’s like trying to read a recipe in a funhouse—everything’s upside down! Your thoughts get scattered, and communication feels like a game of telephone gone wrong. Get ready for misunderstandings and the occasional “Wait, what did you just say?” This aspect looks very similar to a Piscean or Sagittarian Mercury, a common link to ADHD.

Venus

Soft Aspects: Love is in the air! Neptune turns your romantic life into a whimsical fairy tale, where everything feels enchanting. Your heart opens wide, and connections deepen, making even the smallest moments feel like a scene from a rom-com.

Hard Aspects: But hold on! Neptune might have you wearing those rose-colored glasses a bit too tightly. You might find yourself idealizing partners or being swept away by fantasies, only to crash back to reality when things don’t match your dreamy expectations. Ouch!

Mars

Soft Aspects: With Neptune in your corner, your drive becomes a creative spark! You’re ready to take action with a burst of inspiration, making you feel like a superhero on a mission. Time to tackle those goals with flair and imagination!

Hard Aspects: When Neptune throws in a twist, it’s like trying to run through quicksand. Your motivation might wane, leaving you confused about where to focus your energy. It’s a cosmic case of “I had a plan… what was it again?”

To wrap it up after such long post, living with Neptune’s influence means you’ve got a backstage pass to the land of dreams, creativity, and big feelings. But it also means you might find yourself getting tangled up in illusions, setting sky-high standards that real life simply can’t meet. So when Neptune touches your personal planets, just remember: it's okay to dream big, but keep a little reality check in your back pocket. You can chase those rainbows, but don’t forget to pack an umbrella for when they dissolve into rain.

Thanks so much for reading, love you! 🥰

Written by @soberpluto

[notquitecanon]

Insufferably Admirable // Astarion x Reader

Summary: After a restful day turns into a bloody night, your unspoken yet painfully obvious dedication to Astarion has put you in what should be a harder choice. Once Astarion realizes just how far you'd go for him, he has to begin to confront the feelings and realizations he's been ignoring for a while. OR that time You figured out the most effective way to heal a vampire and Astarion got emotional about it

Set at the end of Act 1, but not quite act two. Pre-confession but it's obvious they have some sort of feelings for each other

TW: canon typical violence, blood & blood drinking(obvi this is an Astarion fic), no use of Tav or (Y/N), one use of technical self harm (c*tting) but not in a self mutilation way??, mentions of manipulation obvi, reader might be a little too willing to help (totally not be projecting what???)

this is my first time writing anything for Astarion after hyper fixating on him for a month so please be gentle. I know it's a bit all over the place. (yes I could have completely left out the first half, but there isn't much actual dialogue in the second half and I like to put this guy in situations)

"Remind me again why you insisted on coming with me? I figured you’d be ripe for a day to lay around camp and let us do all the heavy lifting." You grumbled, scanning the crowded streets for a merchant. The goal was simple: get to the nearest village, sell off the extra weight, use the gold to stock the necessary supplies, and whatever the gold couldn’t buy… well, acquire it by any means necessary. No matter your path, through the shadows or the Underdark, you'd need to be prepared.

Gale had gone to pilfer for useful scrolls and maybe an enchanted item to snack on. Lae’zel and Shadowheart to a blacksmith for specialty arrows, useful armor, and any other weapons that caught their eyes. Karlach had carried the two trunks and barrel of items you had collected from your adventure thus far, finding you a wheelbarrow before heading back to camp to help Wyll with his preparations. Halsin… had taken his wild form and disappeared into the forest. Originally, you had intended to do your tasks alone, until- 

"My dear, I’m always ripe for a lay." Astarion twisted your words with a smirk, easily dodging the hand that reached to swat his chest. With a short laugh, he answered your question, his theatrics only increasing to more you argued, "To begin with, Someone- my fabulous self- had to make sure you didn’t get the whole group wrapped up in another laundry list of side quests- who knows what trouble you could have found if you were left all by your lonesome? A gnoll den? A kraken in the pond?  an old woman’s wagon with a broken wheel? a kitten up a tree? An orphanage with a leaky roof? Another cult for us to dismantle? Another temple to drop on me? Where would it end? You’re incapable of turning people away, it’s one of your insufferably admirable qualities."

"It’s called being kind, you dramatic elf." You grumbled, not prepared for the in depth analysis of your character. Trying not to focus so much on the fact he’d called something about you admirable.

"Second, knowing you, you’d sell all this off and still manage to come back to camp with them full. Honestly, pet, how have you managed to collect this much junk? You don’t even have a bag of holding." Astarion scoffed, using a single pale finger to peek under the lid of the barrel. It was just barely containing the countless daggers, goblin bows, pairs of leather armors, and dusty sandals. Your cheeks burned hot- maybe you had a habit of being overzealous in how eagerly you pilfered through all the crates you came across, checking bodies for anything valuable, and demanding the vampire to pick every locked chest the party uncovered. Hells only knew the thrill you got when you would find a buried chest.

"You never know when you might need something!" You reasoned, but swatted him away to hastily shut the barrel before the contents could spill out. It had taken you the better part of the night to pack it full of all the things your companions had convinced you to get rid of. The pale elf rolled his eyes, brushing past you so gracefully you didn’t feel his fingers in your pocket. 

"Really, my sweet? When, pray tell, might we need the collection of rusty necklaces you’ve amassed." Astarion held the bronze and silver necklaces up to the light, the red and blue stones sparkling despite the rust. His voice always like velvet, ruby eyes alight with teasing, "Far be it from me to criminalize accessorizing, but that darling neck of yours is tempting enough already." 

"Astarion!" You cringed, hearing your voice almost whine. Damn him for having that effect, so you cleared your throat as you snatched the jewelry back, "They are useful when we can sell them for gold." 

Astarion, having gotten the reaction he wanted, let you shove the necklaces back in a pocket before glaring at him, though it didn’t hold much actual malice, "Well, come on then, let’s sell the sandals for all the riches the village has to offer us." 

—

An afternoon later, you were smiling smugly as you watched Astarion grumble. Between all the goods and six different merchants, you were leaving with an additional 9,000 in gold, not to mention the additional 3,000 Astarion had managed to pickpocket while you bartered, and the items the two of you had managed to swipe. You felt particularly vindicated as he complained about the weight of the coins in his pack. 

"I’ll buy you something pretty in Baldur’s Gate." You cooed teasingly, to ‘appease’ him. Astarion spared you a deadpan glance before standing to leave, only making you giggle all the more, "Let’s get back to camp."

Astarion caught your eyes once more, scowl softening out at the sight of your bright smile. He was just about to say something sickeningly sweet and perhaps more than a touch vulgar when his eyes flitted up to something, pointed ears twitching at something you couldn’t quite hear. Until you could. 

The door of the jeweler you had swindled burst open, a strangled voice shrieking, "THIEVES! SOMEONE CATCH THEM!" 

Astarion must have been rubbing off on you, because for a moment you tried to feign confusion, looking around for the ‘culprits’ as if the dwarf wasn’t pointing directly at you.  Not that it did much good as several passerbys began to circle around the two of you. 

"Everyone’s so touchy about their personal belongings these days." The rogue scoffed.  Astarion grabbed your wrist and tugged you to him, so that your back was pressed to his and no one could sneak up on you. In his other hand, a dagger had already appeared. 

You sighed in defeat, taking your bow off your back, "No killing." 

"No promises." 

Compared to the goblin camp or fighting through the githyanki creche, disarming and incapacitating untrained townspeople and barely trained guards  was barely a warm up. Still, Astarion never left your side, an increasingly common occurrence when you found yourself in tight situations. Together, it didn’t take long to put distance between yourselves and your attackers, managing to get far enough to escape to the fight. Deflecting one last blow as the two of you passed by an open tavern, you incapacitated a rather pitiful guard with a blunt thunk from the pommel of your dagger. Taking one relieved breath, you tried not to focus too much of the trail of bleeding, unconscious bodies you and the rogue had left behind in your escape attempt. 

"Best we stick to the shadows before we attract more attention." Astarion mused with a cruel smirk, grabbing your sleeve and using it to wipe the blood off the corner of his mouth, his fangs glinting in the afternoon sun. The rogue only chuckled at your curses, giving some inane quip about the crime of dirtying his ensemble and how blood someone always looked better on you, "Now, believe what I said about you finding trouble? Back to camp before you find more." 

Before you could wrench your arm back or remind him that he was the only who got caught stealing, he pulled you off the main road into the alley adjacent- unaware of the attention that had already been attracted from inside the tavern. 

____

Ambushed in the night.  

A whole hunting party of Gur hunters. Willing to purge your party as they slept. 

And they were calling Astarion the monster. Fortunately, Scratch was an excellent guard dog. Waking the entire camp when the hunters tried to creep where you slept. Just as fortunately, there wasn’t a soul in camp that didn’t sleep without at least a dagger under their pillow. 

Your camp had become a bloodbath in the dim glow of the campfire. You had used the book you had fallen asleep reading as an improvised weapon, throwing it so hard it broke the first hunter’s nose. Lae’zel was single handedly mowing through three hunter with her long sword. Spells and incantations sent flashes of light from Gale and Shadowheart’s part of camp, and fire and brimstone lit up Karlach’s. There was yelling and cursing echoing in the cool night air, orders to take the vampire spawn alive and to kill the rest. 

And Astarion? Their target? 

He was where he always was during a fight these days. Right beside you, like a pale, snarky shadow. He had been the one to press your sword into your hand so you’d have more than just your dagger.  With him, you slashed and sliced anything that came near. Until the bastard appeared out of no where, squeezing in between you and the rogue. You would have applauded (more likely cursed) the near perfect use of an invisibility charm- had it not been for the poison-dipped stake raised against Astarion. 

This hunter was different, you could see it in his eyes. They were somehow devoid of life and yet also simmering with rage as they trained on your snow haired companion. This hunter didn’t plan to take Astarion back to Baldur’s Gate, not alive at least. He didn’t care about whatever orders they had, or what consequences would come for disobeying them. He only cared about driving the stake into Astarion’s heart. 

Astarion’s eyes went wide as well at the sight of the stake, realizing as you did that this was no longer just a kidnapping, it would be an assassination. Your thundering heart stuttered, blood going supernova in your veins before freezing to ice as your mind whirled through a hundred different possibilities and also went blank. Your own opponent, along with years of learned strategy, were instantly forgotten as blind instinct took over.  Every ounce of strength and speed you had was directed into a desperate lunge. In your desperation, you really weren’t sure if your goal was to tackle the hunter, grab his arm, tackle Astarion, or maybe even take the stake to your chest instead- you decided to choose along the way, as long as it ended with Astarion alive(ish) and well.

You managed to close the distance, one hand planted firmly to Astarion’s chest shoving him further and the other clamping onto the leather of the hunter’s gauntlet, the same arm poising the stake. With a feral sounding shriek, you pushed his arm so his aim was off. At the same time, your original opponent, frustrated at being forgotten, cast a wave of thunder that sent all three of you flying. 

Astarion, the Gur, and you flew backwards a good fifteen feet, the thunder shaking you to your very bones and splitting your ears. The breath was knocked out of you so hard you thought your poor lungs might collapse and you weren’t able to tell if it was the spell or the impact that did it. You didn’t have time to contemplate, the moment you were able, you scrambled onto your knees. With the same feral tenacity from earlier, you grabbed the hunter by the front of his leather armor, nails leaving scarily deep tracks as you hauled him off your vampiric companion.  With your new opponent, you rolled both your bodies until you were on top of him, knee to his chest. Seeing the look in your eyes, the rage left his own, pure survival instinct taking over. You didn’t even feel the sting of the slicing blow across your shoulder, too consumed with a singular mission. It was Astarion’s dagger you had snatched from the ground on the way that delivered the quick death blow. Halsin, in bear form, had appeared out of the tree line and took care of your other thunderous hunter, taking a defensive position around you and Astarion with a goading roar. You expected to hear something from Astarion- a snarky comment about your lack of technique, a snide remark about his assailant, or even just a stream of petty curses- but he was silent. You turned back to him, only to have dread flood every cell in your body. 

Nothing else mattered anymore, not the fight, not your injuries, and especially not your forgotten original hunter. Halsin, in bear form, had appeared out of the tree line and took care of your other thunderous hunter, taking a defensive position around you and Astarion with a goading roar. You barely noticed.

The moment you’d disposed of Astarion’s assailant, you were scrambling back towards the rogue, who was laying all too still. At first, you hesitated to even touch him as if that might make it worse. You called his name once, and then again when you were able to gingerly lay hands on him- one hand to his chest and the other pushing some curls out of his eyes. The stake, what should have been an almost useless weapon against anyone else, was still buried in his chest, piercing his favorite frilled collar shirt. 

"No… Astarion-" Your voice was breaking, thick and raw. Your eyes couldn’t rip away from the stake, protruding from his chest, the poison staining the white linen of his shirt a sickly green. The hand on his chest balled into a fist, bunching the unsoiled fabric in your grip, but something caught your attention. The tiniest candle light of hope in the rapidly encroaching darkness of grief. 

Your hand was directly over his undead heart. Anytime you touched him, your hand always fell directly over his heart. When you teasingly swatted at his chest, when you needed to steady yourself against him, when you needed to catch you balance… you always sought out his heart- subconsciously, instinctually, always his heart. Your hand was over his heart, and that gods-damned stake was four inches to the right. A tiny light, but a light none the less. It was then you realized you were calling the wrong name. 

"SHADOWHEART!" 

None of your companions had ever heard your voice that desperate, that scared.  All their heads snapped to where they had last seen you, finding Astarion pulled to your chest as you wrenched the stake out of the spawn. Astarion stirred only long enough the let our a gurgling shout that fizzled into a groan at the pain, and you could only hope he heard your soft apologies before you started barraging the vampire with healing cantrips. You didn’t stop until the words held no more magic, your supply of magic tapped for the night. 

The night air had changed, no longer fueled by adrenaline and challenge, now it was thick with urgency and fear. Each of your companions starting fighting towards the two of you, and when you locked watery eyes with Shadowheart you found her clearing her path with her spear. She had stopped using magic to fight, saving it all for Astarion.

"I’m coming! Hold on!" She promised as Karlach fell in beside her, battle axe taking over and sending two hunters to the grave together. Scratch and the owlbear cub had taking a lesson from Halsin and formed up beside you, growling into the night with hackles raised and feathers ruffled. 

"Just hold on, Astarion." You relayed to the vampire, who was completely limp against you his back to your chest, head tilted back against your shoulder which bared his neck to you, showing the fang marks on his pale skin. If you were capable of humor, you would have laughed about the reversal of roles, it was usually you baring your veins to him. But at the moment, his lack of movement wasn’t particularly amusing, so instead you laced his fingers through yours, hoping the warmth would bring him some comfort.  You pressed your cheek against his white curls, using your other hand to brandish his dagger just incase anyone got too close, and whispered all the reasons he was going to be okay. And that’s how you stayed until camp quietened and Shadowheart slid to a stop in front of you. 

___

Hours later, Shadowheart had used every healing and restoration spell she knew, not stopping even when she began to sway and sweat. Halsin had offered his magic and healing herbs, Karlach made sure there was always a bucket of hot water and a stack of clean rags available, and you hadn’t missed Gale trying to hide the scroll of reviving from you as he slipped it to Shadowheart.  Everyone in camp had been quick to gather all the healing potions, depositing them at the entrance of Astarion’s tent. Wyll and Lae’zell had slipped into the tree line to make sure the ambush was well and truly taken care of.  

And you? Their appointed ‘fearless’ leader? You had gone uncharacteristically silent. Your heart hadn’t left your throat, clenching painfully every time they jostled the rogue. Your hands were shaking too much, both from fear and white hot rage, to really help the two more experienced healers of the group. And the thought of being too far from Astarion made your stomach turn, so you kept rooted like a tree. But, you were grateful, truly, for all of them. Even if in the moment, all you could do was sit beside Astarion and pray to any God or Devil that would listen. You felt like a wild animal in a cage and a helpless child at the same time, your insides very well might vibrate out of the body if you didn’t melt into the soil first. 

The vampire needed all the help he could get. Aside from the occasional heartbreaking groan of pain or agony driven writhing, Astarion was eerily still. Barely breathing, less so than usual. His already pale, chilled skin had taken on a stony complexion, almost gray. And despite the inability to run a fever, there was a sheen of sweat over his face, clammy and uncomfortable. You hadn’t allowed them to undress him all the way, but part his shirt had been cut away to reveal the stab wound. It was deep, weeping Astarion’s already dark blood, and stretching out from the injury were black, twisting varicose veins that afforded you the cruel visual of the poison spreading. You wanted to take Gale’s revival scroll, use it on the hunter, and revoke the kindness of your mercifully quick death.  

"It’s like the effect of our magic is being dampened." Shadowheart huffed, hands glowing as she cast another restoration spell. The sweat on Astarion’s brow subsided briefly before returning. Halsin nodded beside her, taking a deep sniff of the stake. 

"His lack of blood isn’t moving the potions or antidote through his body fast enough, and this poison isn’t doing any favors." The druid thought aloud, taking some of his herbs to make a paste, "It doesn’t matter how many we pour down his throat if his body can’t absorb them." 

Shadowheart’s worried gaze flickered to you for a moment, before settling back on Halsin, "We’ll figure something out." 

You knew she was saying that more for your benefit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the pity. Instead, your grip tightened on Astarion’s hand as you swiped a clean rag to dab at his face. There was one more round of healing incantations and one more bottle of healing potion nursed into Astarion’s mouth. Your jaw twitched, watching most of it fall from the corner of his mouth. The same trail your own blood usually made after he fed. 

"I’m tapped." Shadowheart sighed almost ruefully, the glow around her flickering and then fading, falling back on her heels. Halsin stood, stooped slightly in the low ceiling of the tent, turning to you. 

"We’ve done everything we can do. We’ll try again with fresh minds in the morning. For now the best he, and we, can do is rest." His voice was calming, as if he thought you might start screaming again, but you just nodded, muttering something along the lines of thanks for trying, and not meeting either of their eyes as they ducked out of the tent.  

Since you had belligerently refused any of their magical attempts to heal your shoulder, Gale had done a rather pitiful job of wrapping it, taking some pointers from Karlach along the way. The wizard offered you a tight smile and a gentle hand on your uninjured shoulder before pressing a bottle of healing potion into your hand, "This one is for you. You’re no good to him if you bleed out all over the floor of his tent. We all know how Astarion feels about waste." 

"Yeah- fancy boy will be starving when he wakes up." Karlach’s chipper voice was still laced with a sting of concern. The tiefling didn’t touch you for fear of burning you, but did leave you with some roasted meat and a carafe of water from earlier in the night, "And it wouldn’t hurt for you to eat something either, soldier." 

Then you were left alone with your thoughts, hunched next to Astarion’s side, tired eyes examining the bottle after confirming the rise and fall of his chest. In your hand, the potion glowed slightly with the subtlest warmth, the scarlet liquid seeming to have a mind of its own as it swirled in glittering patterns behind the glass. Your injuries were meager, this little bottle of healing would have you as good as new. Bitterly, you flicked your eyes to the numerous empty potion bottles in the corner that had barely slowed Astarion’s bleeding. Your hand closed around it as you cast another look to the Vampire spawn beside you. His breaths were shaky and shallow even after Shadowheart and Halsin had exhausted every last bit of magic they'd had. Now in the quietest parts of the night, or maybe the darkest hours of the morning, your thoughts swirled, desperate for any sort of plan to latch onto. You had to do something. 

For you, Gale had said, No good to him if you bled out… He’d be starving, Karlach had been joking, His lack of blood wasn’t moving the potions enough to be effective, that had been Halsin’s hypothesis.

Blood. He needed blood.

The revelation was like being dropped into a freezing lake, determination razing the fearful lethargy out of your soul. With your teeth, you pried the cork out and downed the first circular bottle, the overly sweet taste a stark contrast to the somber mood of the night. For good measure, you did the same with a potion of superior healing and two bottles of general poison antidote, slamming them down so fast you had to ignore the churning in your stomach. You’d loot twenty more goblin caves to make up for the dent in supplies if you had to, in that moment you just didn’t care. You waited a moment, begging the powers that be for your ragtag plan to work, not so patiently watching the bruises on your wrist until they started to fade.

You felt it, the moment that you had been completely healed and there was no where else for that magic to go. And then, you wrapped your arms under Astarion’s, heaving him against your chest. You bared your neck, letting gravity gently swing Astarion's nose to meet your pulse point, his silvery lashes tickling your jaw. He stirred slightly, groaning at the movement, pressing himself into your warmth before stilling again. Was he too far gone to realize what was being offered? 

Realizing you’d need to play into his vampiric insticts, you huffed, shattering one of the empty vials against a stone, struggling to do so and keep his deadweight in place. Taking a shard, it wasn’t hesitation but a moment of stilling your shaking hand before you pressed a shallow cut to your neck, right above where his lips rested.

You hissed at the haphazard sting, not as gentle as the pinprick of his fangs were in the night, feeling the blood instantly pool at the seam, a single red ribbon dripping before the potion healed the scratch, "C’mon, Astarion-" 

The moment his name left your lips, or maybe it was the moment a drop of your blood hit his, regardless you could feel his instinct, that sanguine hunger, take over. The soft lips at your neck were replaced with dagger sharp fangs digging into where the small cut had been. The sound you let out was somewhere between a gasp of pain and sob of relief as you barred him against yourself, fists clutching into the back of his shirt like it would keep both of you rooted to each other. Somewhere, in the back on your mind, you thought about the irony of the position, being so afraid to let him slip away, like a rabbit latching onto a snake for fear of the serpent starving. Even if it meant being consumed. 

In that moment, you were so relieved he’d started feeding that you didn’t care that his fangs dug in deeper than they ever had before, much more animalistic than his usual polite nibble. You didn’t dare flinch or wince, in case that might break the spell. Instead, you focussed keeping the both of you upright, one of your arms wrapped under his own, your fingers splayed across his ribs, and your other hand cupping the nape of his neck. The angle had his silvery curls dusting your fingertips and your thumb caressing the sharpest part of his jaw. Never had you been so happy to feel that throbbing numbness in your neck. Astarion’s chin prodded further into your neck, deepening the hold he had, and with his own shaky breath, he swallowed the first mouthful of your blood. 

The hand at his ribs clenched, pulling him impossibly closer and twisting his shirt into your grip again as your pulse began to speed up. The increase of your heart rate only seemed to encourage the vampire, teeth sinking ever deeper to draw more blood flow. Clenching your jaw, you forced your muscles not to tense, it would only make it hurt more. This mouthful was quicker, Astarion seemed to be actively drawing it out of you instead of just waiting for it. He swallowed again, gaining the strength to snake his arms around you. It wasn’t a strong hold at first, but one arm snaked around your waist while the other cradled the back of your head, those long fingers finding their usual place in the locks of your hair. You couldn’t help the short laugh that escaped, relishing the cool touch. Your voice stoked another fire in him, provoking another instinct, your blood provided the strength for his grip to harden, becoming more cage like. As if he needed to worry about you trying to escape. 

He swallowed again, and the numbness spread, not just in your neck but into your cheeks and across your chest. Blood was racing, coursing through you and into him, and with it all the magic of the healing potions. You could feel him getting his legs underneath him, untangling himself from you. At the same time, it was getting harder to hold your arm up, the numbness had reached your fingertips leaving them fumbling at his curls before falling to his shoulder. Another long drink and you found your eyes starting to flutter, everything was starting to feel cold as a shiver shook your body. Astarion, against two centuries of vampiric instinct, started to pull back, and you didn’t stop him, but didn’t let him go far either. He was mostly supporting himself now, which was a relief because a fair bit of focus was freshly delegated to preventing yourself from swaying. 

"Take all you need, ’Stari-" You meant for your voice to be assuring and strong, but it came out breathy and slightly slurred. Astarion pulled away, the movement bringing you mostly out of your stupor. His ruby eyes were as sharp as ever once again, even if the shadows under his eyes were still too dark for your liking, and they stared into your own half lidded eyes. Other than the deep purple shadows, the ashen complex had started to even out, the sweat on his brow had faded away, and when you dropped your gaze, you noticed the twisting black veins were starting to recede and fade. Hells, you could get up and dance (very briefly before you passed out).

Even, with a foot in the grave, more dead than usual, and covered in both of your bloods he was unfairly beautiful. His eyes narrowed on your dopey smile, as if he your relief was a symptom of too much blood loss. If that was the effect of four swallows, just a little more would flush out the poison completely, "I can take it, love, just please let me help you." 

Astarion never considered himself to be someone that had to be coaxed into receiving a gift, and you were offering him one so sweetly, practically begging him. After 200 years of rats and spiders, you had put literal magic in your veins for him. Magic that was bringing him back from death to his usual state of undead. He could feel it bringing his strength back, allowing all the magic the cleric and druid had poured into him to finally take some affect. Your blood, his first thinking blood, was always delicious- sweet and metallic, a delicate blend of all the good tastes, something so intrinsically you. With the potions infused, though, if Astarion was to hazard guess what sunlight tasted like- this would be it. How could he refuse? 

Before he went back in, he placed a reverent kiss to the marks he had left in your neck, gingerly lapping at the wounds before sinking his fangs back into your tender flesh. This time, it wasn’t a gasp or sob, but a mewl, your frigid fingers once again digging into the flounced collar his shirt. If you both lived until morning, you were sure he’d gripe for hours about all the wrinkles you’d put in his favorite (only) shirt. Probably throw a proper fit about the stake hole.

Now, as the potions effects dwindled in your own body, you could properly feel the drain. The coldness crept up from your extremities but didn’t counteract the burn in your muscles, making it harder and harder to suppress the shivers. Your breathing was quick almost a pant, but you still felt like you weren't getting any oxygen. If you were thinking rationally, if you hadn’t gone through the brief grief of thinking you’d lost him, you would have realized you need to push him away, that you were approaching your limit. But you weren’t thinking rationally, no. You still were too busy grinning- as your hand had fallen from his collar, it grazed across the wound, now fully closed. Just a little more, you promised yourself. You felt him swallow more, he held himself up completely on his own allowing you to lean into him. 

Astarion was okay, more than just on the mend, he was alive and strong, the potions and magic were working, were the thoughts that were reverberating through your head as things started to feel farther away. Your desperation had melted away, leaving a grateful smile in its wake. It wasn’t completely on purpose, but you let Astarion take on more and more of your weight, barely aware of his fangs in your neck anymore, not quite hearing Scratch and the cub whining outside, the shivering even began to subside as it seemed to take too much energy. 

Earlier, you had drug him to you and held him against your chest almost crying. But, as more of your blood flowed through him, it had become juxtaposed. Astarion held you in place, leaning over you for the best angle at your neck. It was his arms that kept you from falling over, his firm hand that kept your head from lolling too far back. His bite became less fervent, his grip less cage like and more affectionate. His survival instincts started to give way to civility and charm. You barely noticed as he twisted himself so he could slowly, gently lay you down onto the bedroll that had moments ago been his sickbed. He laid you on your back, onto the generous stack of pillows he kept in his tent. He tangled his fingers into yours, just as you had done for him, his knees holding him in a predatory crawl over you, all without breaking from your neck. 

Barely registering the softness, it was the thud of your other hand against the floor that roused you, just a bit. It was also what drew Astarion’s attention, it took everything in him to withdraw his fangs. He gave each puncture would a diligent cleaning with his tongue before pulling away completely, lest he lose control and dive right back in. (Really, how could one person be that tempting?)

But, you had arguably saved his life, it’d be terribly impolite of him to kill you. When Astarion’s eyes met yours, your gaze was more than half lidded as you watched him- what little of your eyes he could see were glossy and fighting to stay focused, he could hear your heartbeat markedly fainter than he was comfortable with. 

You were watching him as intently as you could. In the dim lantern light of his tent, surrounded by potion bottles and bloody rags, Astarion was up and moving and breathing again. Revived and strong, his eyes practically glowing scarlet, and, if you really focussed, you could make out the tips of his ears becoming pink. Something that only happened when he was freshly well fed, nothing was left of his stab wound but the hole in his shirt, the frayed edges dyed from the poison and his blood. He could have looked like a angel, complete with the fire’s reflection creating a halo effect on his snowy curls, had it not been for the sheen of sticky blood drenching his chin and neck. Your blood- the blood that gave him enough strength to heal. How could you not smile? 

Astarion tried to come up with a snarky comment, but for once, nothing came to mind. Instead, he kept glancing between your intertwined fingers, glassy eyes, and that idiotic little smile. Your giddiness was beginning to unnerve him, had you been charmed or perhaps taken a hit to the head? With the parasite, he reached out briefly into your mind. His brow twitched when he was only met with waves of relief and gratitude, you were too tired for structured thought, but too relieved to give into the exhaustion. How could someone on the verge on exsanguination look so happy? And why in the nine hells did it seem to be directed towards his well being? 

The vampire was stricken, taking count of everything you’d truly done that night alone: fought beside him, tried to take the death blow in his place, comforted him, held his hand, cleaned him up, hadn’t let the others undress him anymore than necessary, stayed with him, circumvented his vampirism to find a way to heal him, and had genuinely tried to bleed yourself dry for him. Hell, you’d cut your own neck for him- not even metaphorically, but literally cut your throat for him. He could feel your warmth, your kindness and everything good about you settling into his very marrow. Something uncomfortably… gooey… stirred in his chest, something more and more worrying common as of late, when it came to you. Had his manipulation really worked so well? A feeling too close to sharp guilt gnawed at that warm gooey feeling. Was it really manipulation anymore? Gods, your morality was infecting him.  

“This is that Insufferabe admirability I was talking about ." He muttered into the tent, shaking his head as he watched your chest rise and fall, using his free hand tame some of the hair at your crown. It was then Astarion realized your eyes had slipped shut, your fingers, now just as cold as his, going limp against his. Weeks ago, he would have polished off the last of your blood and left you behind. But at present, he felt the sickening need to return even half the care you’d shown him. He’d have to dissect his emotions later. The rogue was glad the other companions had left supplies within arms reach, as it meant he could gather them without dropping your hand. 

"Ah, ah, ah," He called quietly, gently pulling you back to the real world, pleased to watch your scrunch your nose in the exertion of waking back up. Finally, that contented little smile on your face slipped into a frown, a protest against his interruption of your sleep. Astarion’s smile was almost apologetic as he helped you into a slightly more upright position, "Not quite yet, little love. It’s your turn. No sharing this time."

Another healing potion was pressed into your hand and opened for you, and you allowed Astarion to guide it to your lips, his pale hand guiding your own. This time, the warmth of the elixir was welcome, a comfort instead of a taunt, assurance instead of a plea. Astarion carefully watched you as you swallowed the potion down, noting how you shivered less and a bit of color returned to your face. When the potion bottle was empty, he traded it for a small cup of water, keeping a guiding hand on the silver chalice he’d nicked from a tradesmen weeks ago until you had enough strength to hold it. 

Though still exhausted and dizzy, you had the energy to throw him an obstinate look. Astarion feigned a dramatic sigh but kept a firm enough grip on you that you couldn’t lay back down, "All this for me, yet you won’t even let me give you water?"

Ignoring how it made the dizziness worse, you rolled your eyes, taking a few sips of the water at a time even if it was mostly just so he’d let you lay back down. Astarion was in one piece and you were exhausted, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about anything else. But, Astarion seemed very pleased with himself, squeezing your hand once again, "Good girl." 

If you weren’t on the verge of blood loss, you could have choked on the water. Still, there was a part of you that whispered in relief he must be better if he’s back to teasing you. Astarion watched you take a few more sips before you sagged back against the pillows. Your eyes closed again, but your breathing was deeper now and the hand he held didn’t feel as cold. Outside, Scratch and the cub seemed appeased at your improvement as they stopped their pacing and whining to settle at the tent flap.

This time, he didn’t pull you back up, instead muttering to himself as he gently tilted your head to the side, exposing his bite marks. No wonder you seemed so tired, they were much messier than usual. Vicious, was the better word. Not only had his two fangs pierced your delicate skin, but his bottom canine teeth had punctured through as well, and he could see the outline of his other teeth in the deep bruising grooves they had left behind. In unfortunate addition, it seemed in the height of his blood lust he’d made more than one bite, leaving your neck littered in marks. Astarion grimaced, it really was more of a mauling, “Apologies, darling, I’m not typically so brutish. Forgive me?" 

Astarion pointedly ignored how his heart lifted at the slightest nod you gave him, instead focussing on cleaning you up as gently as possible. The potion had stopped the bleeding, and he watched as the wounds themselves were slowly closing. Each swipe of the rag was feather light, almost not even there. The elf noticed you give back into sleep, this time not bothering to wake you again. Instead he kept working and fussing until the only sign of his feeding was the stained neckline of your shirt. Then, he gently ran a clean, wet rag over your face and hands, taking away the evidence of your tears and worry. Finally, he threw a cloak over you like a blanket, to hopefully ward off the last of the shivers from the warmth he’d stolen from you. 

Not stolen, he reminded himself, though the truth somehow felt more dangerous, it was freely given to him. The vampire settled in, laying across from you, the only part of you he could touch was the hand still holding his. Though, already in your sleep you had shifted towards him. Astarion frowned, eyebrows furrowed, the more he came to know you, the more he knew that you would give and give and give. Truly, he knew that he didn’t need to manipulate you anymore, maybe he never needed to, and for the first time in centuries, he didn’t want to just keep taking. He didn’t want to bleed you dry and loot you for all you were worth. Astarion was surprised to find he wanted give something back to you. He just needed to figure out what.

The nights events caught up to him once again as his eyes closed, listening to the evermore familiar sound of your heartbeat as it became steadier and the even sounds of your breathing as you slept, letting it guide him towards meditation. 

Gods damn you and your insufferable admirability.

___

Part Two Here!

Again this was my first time writing for Astarion. I also tried to balance things into being equal parts in each persons perspective. I just love when two lovestruck idiots have to confront their own feelings about being in love.

[hongjng8]

My Kind Of Heaven.

Pairing: DemonHybrid!san X Mortal!Reader

Feature: DemonHybrid!Seonghwa

Genre: Fantasy, mystery, dark.

Wc: 4k (4065)

Warnings: nsfw(18+)MDNI, CNC, light violence, Blasphemy, blood, knife play, manipulation, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, overstim, restraints, intoxication, possession.

Hongjng8’s notes: Can’t say no to a bit of twisted demon action can we my sweets. ;) I’m also making this to treat a friend of mine !! (@sansangel ) hehe. Make sure to enjoy to your hearts content <3

Tag list (DM to be added): @slvtiny @sugarnspice630 @yuyusolivebranch @taegi1016 @batw00yo @acescavern @yunhoscutie @atzaurora @littlefireball @crimsonbubble @jjoongstar

San Masterlist | main masterlist

“Hff~ I’m so exhausted.”

Your voice emitted a murmur, knowing that you needed to take a peaceful break. Which conveniently your home was a beautiful bungalow placed in the middle of the forest, and of course, you being a spiritual person who was connected with nature, this was a perfect opportunity to go for a stroll — you know, to take your mind away from reality.

You exhaled calmly, sliding into your skirt. Your shirt, whilst comfortable, tucked underneath. Lacing a white corset around your waist, finishing with bunny tying your shoe laces.

“Phew.. okay..”

Rushing outside, grabbing a thick warm blanket in your hurry. You clung to the bag that rested under your arm. Immediately being faced with the calmness of the wild; various flowers, tangling trees, wispy grass, and wind chasing bushes.

The quiet and riveting environment had always intrigued you, and you’d often venture deep into the dream-like land. Completely unaware what tales lie ahead..

“Beautiful..”

You spoke a breathless whisper, eyes fluttering as you spun around to take in the wonders that engulfed you. Yellow and blue butterflies dancing like fairies, pretty love birds singing in the tall trees — It really felt like your very own wonderland.

Eyes twinkling, you found your usual spot. The spot that radiated that homey sense of warmth and comfort. Where you could ponder for days on end. With a tug of strength, and a firm flap, you laid out your blanket; As white as winters snow, and as soft as a rabbits coat.

Perfectly flattened under an oak tree that could have been big enough to hold centuries worth of secrets.

“Perfect.. so warm..”

You delicately placed yourself down, legs nestling into the coziest of fabric. Gentle hands adjusting the hem of your skirt to cover your thighs. You finally relaxed.

There was one small thing about this so called ‘wonderland’, that you wasn’t so familiar with.

The forest you called home, was somewhat magical. Well, that is what you’d say if you were to sugarcoat the reality of it.

Ideally, this forest was a realm — A portal for many different entities to come forth into the land of mortals.

This nature fueled soil was enchanted.

Peaceful. Was how things were going. You hadn’t felt so in touch with nature in such a long time. Your eyes had been closed for a hot second, taking in the sounds and drowsing in the scents around you.

Unknowingly, a faint mist was beginning to display it-self around the environment, decorating the air with twinkles of star dust. An uneasy ambiance dizzying your mind.. assuredly feeling a pair of eyes feasting upon you.

The wind grew a sudden strong, a cold breeze dangerously tugging at your skirt, snatching your attention away from daydreaming.

Sitting up, you scanned the unfamiliar scene in-front of you;

“what the fuck-“

You rubbed your eyes, examining the swirls of twinkly mist, blending perfectly within the air. ‘What a weird abomination.’

Trying to shrug it off, you pulled your phone out to check the time. It was getting later and later in the evening. Eyes rolling back, you let out a frustrated sigh, unappreciative about the journey back home. That was until the sweet scent of tangerine filled your nostrils: One of your favorite smells.

It was addictive, you felt pulled into some kind of bliss. You stared forward as the starry mist formed a trail, eagerly yearning for you to follow. To which you obeyed. — who could resist when the scent you got drunk on, only got stronger each step you took along the path.

The trail led you somewhere quiet and unusually closed off. Anyone else would have been suspicious, but the daze this mist and scent brung you only pushed you forward. You were hooked: Just like a fish being reeled in like mindless prey.

Hands draping to your sides, completely struck by the unrealism of what was unfolding in-front of you.

The foggy mist swarmed like a tornado. The stardust becoming more evident the bigger the mist got. Your jaw was hung, sheepishly stepping back from what began emerging.

A sleek outline.. such a tall figure exposing itself.

“I’m going cra-“

you were cut-off by this strange-being revealing himself; eyes sharp, plump succulent lips forming into a mischievous grin, his silk white hair that drooped infront of his brown, heavy eyes.

“Id hope it’s over me~..”

The strangers voice sent shivers along your soft skin, trembles running down your spine.

Your breath was taken away, stumbling over words that you were struggling to spurt out. To which you almost tripped in response. Only for this mysterious man to catch your fall, his hands soft yet they held a firm grip on you.

“Shh sh sh.. Don’t be afraid of a harmless Demon.”

His words were allusive, voice venom-like. You were spooked for sure, but you couldn’t deny the fact this demon was drop-dead gorgeous.

“Demon..?”

You questioned, your body tense as his hold on you tightened, sharp nails scratching against your clothes, as he cradled your body against his toned build.

“Correct.”

He was confident, straight to the point.

“I haven’t had such an opportunity to visit this side in a while.. what do they call it? Ah! The mortal realm.”

You blinked, examining this man in-front of you. You had always been a spiritual person, but witnessing a demons presence first hand was not on your list.

“Call me Seonghwa, pretty. Think of me as any other guy.”

Seonghwa spoke with pride, his long fingers began caressing your chin, lifting your head just a little to meet his eyes. The type of eyes that sucked in your soul, with intention.

“Consider us.. new acquaintances.”

He hissed with a smirk, fangs peaking as his lips curled, hands moving down to caress the curves of your waist once again.

You attempted to read this man carefully, but he was for sure a tough one to get through.

“What are you here for..? What made you approach me..?”

Your words tried to come across stern, but your voice came out quiet. It was clear as day you were nervous, to which he only got a rush out of.

He inched closer to you, siding you off to where you originally rested under the large oak tree.

“How could I resist such a welcoming treat, all alone.. in the woods..”

His eyes flickered to you, gazing up and down. He sought for the advantage in the situation.

“I’d assume some company wouldn’t be any trouble now, would it my pet.”

You inhaled a sharp breath, though before you could speak, you felt his broad cold hand against your bare thigh, swiftly making his move. He was quick, an unpredictable predator pouncing onto his prey.

“Seonghwa.. wait— no.. sto-“

Your mouth was covered by his spare hand, causing you to whimper, powerless. The demons strength was not unknown either, as he had you pushed against the hard bark of the tree, his body pressed against your back.

“Hush now, little human. You’ll love being my toy. How does it sound? A demons plaything?”

His sleek fingers curled under your skirt, prodding at the fine laced panties that covered your heated cunt.

You squirmed, shaking your head in denial to reject the hell spawn, which clearly didn’t phase him at all. You were only met with a stronger scent of that familiar mandarin orange. However this time, it left you in a deeper dreamlike state, incapable of thinking for yourself. The smell was captivating.. poison.

The demons lips ran over your ear, soon leaving a hopeful kiss against the nape of your neck.

“I’m so sorry.”

The specimen whispered sweet nothings and false apologies, as his fingers continued violating your clothed heat. Your body reacting against your wishes, as your soft panties dampened to his touch.

“I just can’t help myself..”

He growled lightly, tugging the wet lace of your panties aside, exposing your smooth, plump pussy to his digits.

“N-no..”

Your voice was shy to a whisper, unable to fight against his touch. You were dreading what could happen next. Seonghwa, whilst completely unwelcome, was exploring your now, throbbing underneath. Yet why was your body enjoying this feeling? It felt unbelievably filthy.

“Any demon would thrive to have a pet mortal like you. so beautiful.. so needing of such attention..”

His voice flowed smoothly, and you hated the way it gave you goosebumps of excitement.

Your eyes suddenly shot wide open, feeling his fingers scissoring your sensitive folds — gliding around your doused slick.

“How inviting..”

Over the faint murmurs of his words, and the dizziness from the transe you were under, all you could hear was the pathetic, squelching of your unacceptably wet pussy.

Seonghwa chuckled, satisfied with the reaction your body gave him. The sound echoing through your ears as your body sunk against the textured brown wood.

He slipped his hands out from under your skirt— fingers sticky with your unwanted arousal, pulling out a feather, tenderly stroking it along the back of your thigh. At least, to a mortal, it appeared to be a beautiful white feather. But under that enchanted disguise, a sharp steeled blade rested between his finger’s.

“I won’t hurt you.”

His words were anything but promising.

He was ruthless, sadistic. Yet something about him was drawing you in.

Your legs trembled as you felt the tickle of the feather against your skin, though that tremble soon turned into a cold hiccup of realization, the pressure he was applying to your skin was nothing to what a feather could achieve.

“Hold still, sweet thing.”

Body trembling in fear, your nails scratching against the tree bark. You felt the sharp rushing sting of the blade beginning to delve into your skin — eyes shutting tight to brace yourself for that anticipating pain.

That was until Seonghwa suddenly stopped. Unusual.. what’s happening?

The stardust mist that surrounded you both dangerously swept away. Just like wind picking up from a helicopters rotor blades.

Seonghwa’s guard was put down as he examined what was going on, his face full of clear concern. You instantly fell down to your blanket, hugging your knees, snapping out of the daydream this star demon laced you in.

“Fuck..”

Seonghwa growled defensively. You noticed for the first time the anger and irritation that brewed inside of him. ‘Is this what demons were?’

This new aura that dominated the horizon was stronger — even you, a powerless human could feel the intensity that was at steak. Seonghwa turned to you, head tilting as he concealed the fact he was intimidated. He knew what was coming, who was approaching.

“We need to leave, kitty.”

He attempted to bribe you, although you on the other hand: frightened, completely clueless. Your body was frozen, you could barely even hear Seonghwa talking to you. This new, musky Aura was paralyzing.

“You can trust me. You don’t need anyone else.”

Seonghwa himself winced, eyes jolting to the trees that golfed you both in. Vines manipulated themselves, branches cracking as the green stems slithered forward. Seonghwa’s abilities were useless against this hostile entity.

And he knew it.

Your eyes stilled, watching as vines approached the demon in-front of you, lips trembling as you shuffled backward slowly,

“What’s wron-“

Seonghwa’s words were put to a halt with a threatening choke, his neck strangled tightly by the vines. The poised demon groaned, nails grasping at the veiny wires of nature, the stardust that radiated from his body crumbled into Smokey. You on the other hand, were struck, barely able to form a thought.

Another demon, one who was broader with a menacing presence, came closer to you and Seonghwa, who was still restraint by his neck. This new being simply raised a hand, the vines lifting Seonghwa enough to face him.

“San..”

Seonghwa yelped, his breath short. Irritation spread all over his expression. Though he knew his place when against this rival.

“Seonghwa.”

San responded, his eyebrows furrowed with displeasure. You watched carefully as the two had an obvious distaste for one another, your attention drifting to the dangerous man.

‘San.. I see.’ you tried to gather some courage, being sure to collect as much information as you could just from listening to their small talk.

San’s hand reached out to glide two fingers up Seonghwa’s temple, before grasping his hair, tugging his head back with spite.

“You’ve had your fun, pixie. Get lost.”

His words spilled out like venom, letting Seonghwa go with a thud. The starry man grunted, picking himself up and wiping his lips. He was smart enough to know he wouldn’t stand a chance against San— forced to return to the opposite realm with a longing desire for your taste.

Left alone, the silence was eerie. Your tummy twisted, nerves pricking your spine and sending you into shivers. San undoubtedly held something in his manner, something that caught your true attraction.

This was the weirdest day of your life.

“Y/n, hm?”

You froze. ‘how did he know my name?’.

Your legs trembled, laying out as you stared up at the large man. Breath hitching at the sound of the vines crackling closer towards your limbs.

“I know many things, Princess. Like reading your little mind. You’re forgetting what I am.”

You began to notice that these demons seemed to have one similar trait: scents.

San secreted the musky fragrance of sage — god, another one of your favorites. However, this scent had a complete different effect. You wasn’t hypnotized to a stand-still, no. You coughed as the smell filled your lungs, your body willingly relaxed, legs parting. Your mind being filled with sinful, dirty thoughts.

“Tsk, I’ve never met someone who slips into traps so easily. Such a clever girl.”

His praise felt almost like mockery, your eyes clouded with desire as San closed in, hovering over your frame.

“Please..”

‘What am I saying?’ Your thoughts raced. For some strange reason, you craved the touch of the demon that stood in-front of you.

“You pitiful angel. I’d say the lord would be looking down at you with shame. You really want a demon to take care of you?”

Your cheeks heated with humiliation, whining as the demon controlled the vines, wrapping them securely over your ankles, tugging your body forward and forcing you onto your back.

Holy fuck he was enticing.

“You don’t mind if I treat myself, right baby girl?”

His red eyes drank up your kind pupils, and with a click of his fingers, the vines forced your legs apart. Your panties still damp from before, the lace suckled against your folds. You let out a breathy whimper as the cold air reached between your thighs, unfocused as San leant down, knees between your legs.

“I think this little deer needs a helping hand, hm?”

San teased, watching as your hips wiggled, your lips sealed as your heartbeat increased. You could feel his heavy presence inching closer to your warmth.

“Speak up, my little slut. Use that sweet mouth of yours.”

The demon slapped your desperately swollen clit, which was throbbing underneath your panties. Your body was covered in goosebumps, excitement pumping through your bloodstream. You couldn’t believe this was actually turning you on.

“Yes.. yes.. please San, please help me.. I need it.. please..”

He grinned, pleased. Wasting no time as his thick, long fingers slid under the sides of your soggy panties, hurriedly tearing them off of you with ease. He stumbled forward, latching his lips onto your cascaded mound. He groaned, tugging the vines to pressurize you against his face as much as he could. Mouthing you hungrily, licking between your folds, taking his time to explore every crevice. — eager to find your sweet spots.

“S-san!”

Your body shook, Lower back arching from the sensational assault against your gushing cunt. Now that the demon has got the taste of your sweet nectar, he indefinitely can’t stop.

In San’s mind, he grew heated at the idea of having a human like you under his sleeve. His personal little slave — a pretty toy he could mould into his very own property. An uncomfortable tightening shaped in pants at the thoughts, forming a hood at his crotch. He moaned at the fantasy, sending vibrations into you that only added to your pleasure. Your body shivering and trembling under his curse.

He pulled away momentarily, lips detaching from your drowned pussy with a pop. He panted, animal-like. Crazed from the smell of your arousal. He fluttered kisses against your thighs, hands caressing your delicate legs.

You were aching for more.

“Fuck.. you’re so wet. For me? Really?”

San was smug, admiring how your sensitive cunt throbbed and grasped around nothing. He knew exactly what you needed, and he damn well was going to take advantage of it. Without any question, he pumped two of his thick digits into your pretty little pussy. Curling them repeatedly, angling his wrists to explore your gummy walls, soon finding that sweet spot, causing a lucid moan to emit from your mouth.

You reacted perfectly to his touch, exactly how he wanted. He abused your frail, gasping cunt, violating that sweet spot — leaning down once again to suck your clit as he finger fucked you. Your hips jolting as you were edging closer to your release.

“That’s it, let go. Just for me.”

San murmured against your pulsing heat, shaking his head as he lapped you up like a fucking dog. As soon as he felt your walls clamping down and gushing on his fingers, he pulled them out just in time, frantically rubbing your sensitive bud with his hand — forcing an orgasm from you.

“Fuckkk! C-cumming.. mm!”

A high pitch cry poured out of your cords, San growling in response, a deeper moan passing his lips as he watched you squirt all over his hand, slapping your cunt one last time before he savored your high with his tongue, drowning in your pleasure.

“Such a good girl. Giving into a demon.”

The demon had pulled away, leaving you drenched and ready. Gasping for air as your chest raised up and down. San’s eyes stared down at your heaving chest, tongue gliding over his swollen lips to collect your sweetness that stained.

Your gaze met his, cheeks flushed as you watched him remove his clothes. A thick fog caved you both around the blanket. No one could see you like this but him. Your pleasure was for his eyes only.

Whilst removing the clothes that covered his lower half, the vines under his spell swiftly began tearing your clothes away from your skin.

“You’re so pretty like this.”

You gasped, the plants behind San’s strength handling your body with ease, flipping you onto your stomach and tangling around your waist to hang your hips in the air. San’s hand landed a rough slap against your ass, kneading the flesh within his large palms. Your face was pressed against the soft blanket, hands restrained behind your back. The power the demons vines withheld was more than surprising.

Before you knew it, you were on display — ass up face down. Tangled within the curse of nature.

“Delicate little princess. You belong to me. I’ll break you open and mould you into my very own cocksleeve.”

San finally positioned himself behind you, your knees either side of him as he gave his dick a few long, wet strokes — His breathing heavy.

Your legs felt weak, though San had no problem assisting, pulling your hips closer to his. The demon began to rub his length against your sex, making sure to gather and spread all the juices. It was obvious how needy and ready you were; you were leaking, dripping to feel San’s cock deep inside you.

After painfully being teased, he started to push his cock into your begging hole. The stretch was intense, pressure being more than anticipated. He was big, length and girth considered. Your walls hugged around him perfectly, like you were made for this. Both of your moans danced in the air together, his length completely sheathed inside you, the bruised-pink tip kissing your cervix.

“Shit.. you’re such a tight fuck-toy.”

San grasped the vines that tied your hands, pushing down against your middle back to deepen your arch, as he began setting a fastened pace, grinning to himself; you were losing yourself in this demon.

Unable to form a sentence, simply letting out wails of pleasure. Your pussy fluttering from the sensation — San’s cock plunged against the sweet muscle deep inside you. His dizzying sage aroma filled your lungs, becoming more addictive than any drug.

“You’re taking me so fucking well. Have you done this before? My little whore.”

The sadistic spawn spat rhetorically, eyes dark and heavy as he delve into you with such depth and speed, your tummy twisting with a tight knot. You swore you could feel a bulge in your lower belly each time he fucked into you; Babbling pathetic nothings as he ruined your pretty cunt. The high San was giving you, allowed you the energy you so badly needed to take his cock even after already hitting such an orgasm before.

“G-good.. so go-ood”

You managed to drool some words from your lips, tears rolling down your rosy cheeks. He kept you pushed down, giving several long strokes which gained your eyes rolling back, your nails digging into the stemmy ropes.

“You’re loving this aren’t you? Taking demon dick.”

He fastened, letting out a lengthy moan feeling you tighten around him. His balls were slapping against your wet core, the sound echoing through the fog that clouded around you both.

San’s arm snaked around your waist, the vines tightening against your skin, surely leaving a mark. His fingers dipped between your folds, swirling and brushing over your hard clit, all whilst his thrusts grew animalistic — The overwhelming sensitivity had your hips bucking repetitively.

“That’s it. Take it. Take all of me.”

The friction the two bodies created surely had the blanket dirtied underneath by the earth it had been resting on. You began feeling a burning twist forming in your aching tummy, breathing unsteady. The ruthless pounding only sent you deeper into your arousal, your muscles stiffening as your spine bent the furthest it could; bringing you to another orgasm. It hit you hard, your throbbing cunt squeezing and gushing around San’s cock.

“Oh g-god!”

“Scream for the lord. Let him hear you.”

As you release, relishing into a moaning mess. San grabbed a blade that the vines had hauled towards him, his hips still rolling rhythmically as you twitched and flushed against him, milking your high out of you.

Without a word, he carved his singular initial into the back of your thigh — his breath shuddering as he watched your crimson blood tickle down your already shaking leg.

“N-ngh! F-fuck yes y-yes!”

San threw the blade aside as you came over him, cursing as he sharply swatted your ass, sending your body into trembles. Fucking into you feverishly, getting drunk off your squeals and sobs. You loved this feeling of being used; having this deep need to give yourself over to this demon. A success for him.

His groans turned into feral, desperate grunts. Frantically pumping himself in and out of your drowned pussy, sending you into overstimulation. His orgasm peaked, head leaning back dreamily as his moans laced with your cries — his hot seed spewing over your walls, painting your crevices.

“Oh.. oh yes, fuck..”

The last thing you could feel was his pulsating length, only then for it to slide out. Leaving your pitiful hole gasping and leaking with the sinful fluids. The demon caught his breath, slicking his hair back, flocking the vines back to their origin.

“I hope you realize, you belong to me, y/n.”

His words weren’t threatening, but more of an honest, possessive statement. He had great intention in his tone. Your body was weak, limbs lifeless like jelly as you finally rested against the white coated, liquid drowsed blanket. San leant down with you, hands caressing over your tender curves, admiring his newly claimed property.

He fluttered gentle, wet kisses along your shoulder, and then to your neck — Cradling you in his large arms as you rested, completely fucked senseless. Although you had the lasting trace of this demon imprinted in your mind.

“I’ll be sure to visit you often, my angel.” ~