#ghouljam's fae!au

[cryingpages]

@ghouljams I'm lookin at you and that scrumptious fae!au

The worms party hard

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Forgotten Sorrows

Fae!Soap x Female Reader (Rún)

This story was completely inspired by @ghouljams Fae!Au of COD MW.

I'm rewriting this series. I don't know when it'll be back

When worlds collide

Remnants of the past

Old habits - New beginnings

Thorns and Kisses

Muse's Lament

Relief after Rain

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2023. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Vigil

A little Drabble for my fae puppy named Prince. Set in @ghouljams ‘s Fae au. It’s a little less then 500 words but I think it’s cute.

The snow was cold against his paw pads, leathery black and pink skin protesting the sting of the freeze, his claws clicking against the ice with every step towards the warm and inviting cottage not too far off, a beacon of light and summer in the middle of the harsh winter setting. The slightest sheen of the Witch’s barrier catching against the bright shine of the sun. The sight was a welcome one, encouraging him to walk just a little bit faster.

It was a prickle at the back of his skull that signified he’d crossed into the weaker barrier at the porch, the soft pins and needles like his skin had fallen asleep. A gentle warning, to be good, respectful. His magic greeted the Witch’s with a playful nip, little excited puppy bites like a dog greeting its owner after a long day at work. The pins and needles faded and he waddled up to the front door with no issue, pawing at it and scratching his nails against the dark wood with a little greeting whimper.

Only silence followed.

Tilting his head, Prince set the shoddy bouquet down on the straw welcoming mat, chicory and chickweed, a few stray blooms of bittersweet nightshade. It was unusual, he thought, for the Witch to not answer her door.

“Witch? It’s me! Thought it’d be nice to sit down and have a cuppa!” The puppy shaped fae called, ears twitching as he took a moment to simply listen. But the only sounds that greeted him were the chitter chatter of the forest and the animals that weren’t animals, peaking out of the dense trees with too big eyes and sharp teeth. He hummed, glancing at one of the curtained windows to see the inside pitch black. Even more unusual.

A little pouty at the realization that he would miss out on some snacks and scritches, Prince resolves to wait, hopping up onto a little chair by the door and staring out at the vast expanse of winter patiently. The wind screeched with banshee’s calls, the snow crunched with the footsteps of those who no longer lived, and Prince sat. Patient as a loyal guard standing vigil, snapping at any weaker critter that nudged a little too close for comfort. Even having to throw a particularly heavy stone at some weird moose creature that kept calling out to him with the Witch’s voice. Weird guy.

But it wasn’t long but noon waned into dusk, and even the most loyal of companions could not be expected to stay awake all through the night. So, shivering from cold, Prince simply curled up onto the porch chair, huddled protectively around his gift for the Witch, heavy lids closing, drifting to sleep with the smell of bergamot and honey heavy in his nose.

[maelstrom007]

I want to hear about Mal

🐷💯🎮🤍

-Ghoul

Y’all I’m so normal about Mal you wouldn’t believe

For those who don’t know, Mal is my oc from @ghouljams Fae!cod au. They’re a changeling, and the only consistent identifying feature is that they always have bright red hair regardless of their physical appearance. They run a studio and specialize in crafting magical items for the local Fae.

🐷: What is your oc’s favorite animal?

Spiders! Spiders are so crafty and are such beautiful artists and in Mal’s opinion are misunderstood. While I haven’t written about it yet, Mal definitely has some spider characteristics themselves. Mal and the local spiders have an agreement that as long as they don’t make the shop look decrepit and abandoned or leave spider webs in the paths of customers (…at least not too many) then they can hang out and make themselves at home.

💯: Share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

So even though Mal is a changeling, in my mind there is a sort of baseline form that one could consider their ‘true form’ and which takes no effort or magic to sustain. Every other form they take requires some amount of magic and concentration to maintain, meaning that if they get exceedingly distracted or drained they may briefly revert back to that true form. (What that true form looks like is for y’all to wonder and for me to write about)

There are two ways I like to think about Mal’s magic. For their appearance, I imagine a sort of kaleidoscope that ‘fractures’ their body into a million pieces of light before their snap back into focus in a new way. For everything else, I imagine them plucking at imaginary threads that make up the known world and tugging on them, tying knots, untying knots, etc to work their magic.

Mal didn’t really grow up around other Fae, so their understanding of magic and Fae customs are very much self taught up until recent years. I like to think of it as someone who immigrated to another country as a child, grew up, and then returned as an adult. In theory they know about the culture and social norms, but haven’t ever experienced it first hand and stick out like a sore thumb.

🎮: What are three of your oc’s favorite hobbies?

Weaving is definitely at the top of their list, with gossiping coming in at a close second. Finally, Mal is definitely a gym rat 😂. Catch them spending all their free time lifting weights and casually saving gym bro’s when they fail a rep. Always giving encouragement though!!

🤍: What are three of your oc’s neutral/questionable traits?

I think that Mal’s biggest questionable trait is that they are ride or die to the extreme. Like, it takes a lot to make Mal truly consider you a friend, and once you’re there it’s over man. Like for instance, Witch has wormed her way into Mal’s affections, and now in Mal’s mind she can do no wrong. Witch could stroll up one day and say that she wants to destroy the world and set it ablaze and Mal would come out with gasoline like sure boo whatever you say everyone had it coming anyway. Do they like the world? Sure. But someone they think highly of and care for wants to see it gone, who are they to question that?

Because Mal didn’t grow up around Fae, they got burned a lot when they were younger, accidentally agreeing to unfair contracts or other such because they weren’t familiar with all the nitty gritty rules and technicalities the Fae are prone to use. This means that they threw up walls really quickly, and they themselves became a stickler for technicalities and precise language in order to protect themselves. This means that while Mal can be nice and personable, they’re more often than not operating under the assumption that they are going to be taken advantage of in some way and will preemptively try to protect themselves. Lots of mixed signals coming from them.

Finally…Mal likes neither cold nor hot drinks. Let me explain. If Mal is having a soda and it’s been in the fridge, they will leave the can on the counter for several minutes to let the temperature come up, then pour it in a glass to disperse the cold even more. Truly Mal’s favorite drink is a chai, where the chai mix is at room temperature and the milk was in the fridge, so that when they are mixed together it creates a perfect Neutral Temperature™️.

Bonus picrews:

[maelstrom007]

A version of my OC Mal from @ghouljams fae au. “I’m fucking fabulous darling.”

hey guys remember when I said I wasn’t going to update the picrew anymore? well

Yeah, I lied

NEW PICREW UPDATE THIS IS NOT A DRILL

We got new shirts (and due to popular demand and as a request from Will himself, albeit as a joke, THE WILL WOOD SHIRT YIPPEE), new sweaters, new jackets, new eyes, mouths, noses, some hair, flower crowns, AND MORE THAT I’VE ALREADY FORGOTTEN ABOUT

Don’t say I never do anything for you guys, happy holidays <3

[outoftheseine]

- SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY FIC RECS -

a lot of dad!simon fics here. i am not sorry. i want to bear this man's child(ren) | note: this is COD so there are some trigger warnings like: blood, guns, injuries, military stuff, death so please beware of them. there also also 18+ content so minors DNI. don't forget to read the authors' warnings | more will be added!

main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

haunted | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (heavy angst, tw: depression, drugs, addiction suicide, toxic relationship, please read the warnings!)

too old for you | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x medic!fem!reader

↳ by @lunarw0rks (smut, hurt/comfort, age-gap)

soft spot • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @cordeliawhohung

the red means, i love you • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader x john 'soap' mactavish

↳ by @thewriterg

smashing pumpkins • simon 'ghost' riley x civilian!fem!reader

↳ by @qwimchii

last kiss | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @milf-murdock (angst, unestablished relationship, smut, fluff)

secret lovers | part 2 • husband!simon 'ghost' riley x wife!reader

↳ by @savemefromanepicoftimewasted

my baby swingin' • biker!simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @tojisun (very sexy biker!simon, smut, fluff)

happiness • simon 'ghost' riley x wife!fem!reader

↳ by @lethalchiralium (i feel so fuzzy when i read this series, fluff, sometimes angst, some tw be aware)

i'm with you | keep you close • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @undercoverpena (angst, feelings, explicit)

being yelled at by ghost | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @hxltic (angst! simon is an asshole)

northern attitude | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @bubbles-for-all-of-us (enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst)

lights on • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @peachesofteal (single mom!reader, fluff, slight angst, protective!simon)

one night stand | part 2 | part 3 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @cmncisspnandmore

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC'S

break in, break down • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @hyperactively-me (home invasion, comfort, fluff)

his girls • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (so so so fluffy, dad!simon)

one fucking mistake • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @codfanficedits (very angsty, hurt but no comfort for a whilez grieving, tw:depression)

book boyfriend • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @stargirlrchive (fluff)

lime-sized • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @imperihoe-writes (pregnant!reader, very fluffy)

bloodied bullets, soft confessions • simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

↳ by @ghosts-cyphera (a little mean!simon, hurt/comfort, injuries, fluffy end)

monster • neighbor!simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader

↳ by @rowarn (smut, protective!simon, zombie au)

unmasked love • simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader

↳ by @springtyme (so so so cute! dad!simon)

adoration • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @yawnderu (dad!simon, fluff)

simon 'ghost' riley x sensitive!gn!reader

↳ by @cherryredstars (fluff and nswf content)

this chapter is over • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @colonelarr0w (character death, angst, injuries, some fluff)

simon says • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @unreliablesnake (smut)

salt in an old wound • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!oc!reader

↳ by @ghouljams (hurt/comfort, explicit content, fae au)

blood on my shirt, rose in my hand • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @alwaysshallow (friends to lovers, the continuation is on ao3!)

antique soldiers • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @mangowafflesss

why? • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @riverbutghost (asshole!simon, injuries, slightly explicit at the end)

cold but warm • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @riverbutghost (asshole!simon, injuries, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff)

pretty pink flowers and bloody cherry blossom tree • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @underscorewriting (really really angsty, ugly cried)

for the last time • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @wttcsms (pregnant!reader, mentions of death, angst but fluff)

welcome home • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @nastybuckybarnes (home invasion, arguing, fluff)

medical leave • simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

↳ by @kib-ble (mentions of injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff)

no more stars left to count • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @lvlyghost (angst, hurt/comfort)

protective • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @ponyosmom35 (medic!reader, protective!simon, tw: sexual harassement)

return • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @bruhrobs (fluff, colleagues to lovers, single mom!reader)

[mariamakeslemons]

Spooktober 2024: Day 8 Folk Horror

Warning: Inhuman x human relationship (both parties are sentient and can consent), mild anti-military work mentioned (helping soldiers abandon their post), too many ovens for a kitchen...

The idea behind König is based on @ghouljams Fae AU.

You moved out to the woods for inspiration, health, and to escape a piece of shit ex who refuses to admit that they fucked up by cheating on you. Two of those three goals are being met, but your ex is insistent, throwing around their parent’s money to constantly find ways around the blocks you put up. The only upside, you muse while sipping on your morning cup and watching the rain fall in the woods, is that your ex is “nature averse”. As if technology hasn’t advanced far enough to find work arounds even in the densely packed woods.

As a combination of more protection from your ex and honoring your grandfather, you signed up for a soldier housing project. Should a mission occur within a certain distance of your house, the soldiers can use your home as a safe house. Most of the time, you just acted as a host and sent the soldiers on their way when it’s time for them to leave. Sometimes, however, you make your grandfather proud by helping the soldiers that didn’t have an option leave the military.

With all this, you also got a boyfriend. He’s a soldier, and you hold his leash to his delight. Usually, when you house other soldiers, he stays elsewhere, but still close. Which makes his insistence that he be at the house during this housing confusing.

“Thank you again for housing my boys and I,” Captain Price repeats, tilting his boonie hat at you politely.

“As long as you guys aren’t going to be assholes, I see no reason not to house you,” you wave off with a smile, already heading into the kitchen to prep the rabbit your boyfriend hunted earlier. Braised rabbit with some bowtie pasta for the entrée, some roasted potatoes and broccoli for veg, and your gran’s special chocolate-strawberry bread pudding. A bit time consuming, but it will make more than enough food for the four men in your house, yourself, and your boyfriend when he returned from whatever the ‘wild hunt’ is.

“You need help in here, love?” Sergeant Gaz asks, peeking into your kitchen. You offer him a smile and shake your head.

“No, I’ve got it,” you assure him, pulling out the dead rabbits. You hear the Sergeant choke as you start to work off the skin and fur from the poor things. It always takes a bit more time than you want, but at the end, you still have completely cleaned rabbits, just needing to be broken down for cooking.

“Those clean?” a deep voice rumbles from behind you, causing you to nearly knick yourself with the knife. Looking over your shoulder, you see the masked man, almost the same size as your boyfriend and staring at the rabbits.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” you chirp, beaming as Lieutenant Ghost shifts. Just like your boyfriend, the man’s a bit awkward. But, unlike your boyfriend, he plows onward with what he was going to do or say.

“Y’ wan’ some help?” he offers, nodding at the meat still attached to the bones.

“Only if you can properly butcher them,” you reply.

“Was a butcher’s ‘prentice f’r while,” he huffs, walking into the kitchen and taking the knife from you, already moving the rabbit around to start cutting the joints. You hum in reply, before grabbing the vegetables. You work in silence with the Lieutenant, eventually getting the rabbits into the oven to braise. Shooing him out of the kitchen once the meat’s cooking, you move on to prep the potatoes and broccoli, as well as the strawberries and stale bread for the pudding. Your boyfriend had pointed out how much you bake and insisted you get an extra oven and a storable oven as well.

“Looks like I’m using all of them,” you chuckle to yourself.

“All o’ whit?” an accented voice asks, drawing your attention to the door once again. Sergeant Soap peers in curiously with Sergeant Gaz at his shoulder.

“The ovens,” you chirp, lifting up the mini oven up with a huff and dropping it on your available counterspace.

“Steamin’ Jesus!” the Scot yelps while Sergeant Gaz lets out a whistle.

“Didn’t know you had three of those,” he mumbles as you start to heat up the mini oven.

“Yeah,” you laugh, “I rely heavily on baking with a lot of my cooking, so three ovens.” Sergeant Gaz chuckles as Sergeant Soap practically beams in delight. However, before you could make a joke that delights your boyfriend when he hears it, a loud noise outside draws your attention to the back yard.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Price knows about the Austrian merc that’s been on base with them a few times. The giant that shies away from anything social, often seen staring at people with eyes that seem to glow. Here and now, König towers over all of them, strange spines coming out of somewhere. His eyes are glowing, a bright blue that stares down at Price and Ghost, while an inhuman growl rumbles from him. His bare hands are dyed bloody brown-red with fucking claws.

“Oh, that’s what it was!” you chirp, the sweet thing that opened their home to Price and his boys.

“Fuck,” he hisses, looking back as Ghost shifts to block you from sight. He calls to you, “Go back inside! It’s not safe!”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, stepping out of the house and around Gaz and Soap’s grasping hands. You slip past Ghost and Price and stand in front of the beast that isn’t a man despite its shape. Then, you pat what was its wrist twice while scolding, “And shrink down, you goober. You’re scaring them.”

“Good,” König rumbles, but he still listens to you, shrinking down into the form they’re far more used to. You huff and roll your eyes, but rise up on your toes to slip under König’s hood to press what sounds like a kiss to what might be his face. Slipping back out, you smile up at him.

“I’m making braised rabbit and pasta for dinner,” you tell him, as if the 141 isn’t between you and the house, as if these armed men don’t have a hand on their guns. The behemoth perks up.

“The ones I brought you?” he asks, leaning over you.

“Yep!” you chirp, so fucking sweet. König purrs, sounding just as animalistic as he had earlier, before scooping you into his arms and stomping into the house, ignoring the 141. The Taskforce watch as the house darkens, twigs pressing out of the wood the house is built with. The woods around them is no longer serene, but foreboding, waiting for possible prey.

“Yeh think ‘ll behave?” Soap asks nervously.

“…If they ask,” Price finally offers upon hearing you scolding König for something, causing the Austrian to whine.

“Gun’s loaded and at ready,” Ghost intones, not even taking a chance.

[dracobrooklyn]

Call of Duty Recommending Writing.

These are my recommendations on these amazing COD x Reader or Oc x Cannon Writing. These are the best of the best :D Light on by @peachesofteal

Simon has a new neighbor. His new neighbor has a baby.

|| MDNI|| 18+

This anthology is just so damn beautiful, when I jumped into the COD x reader train this one was the first one, and I LOVE IT! the writing is so in character of Mister Simon Riley and by god, he still his grumpy self but still minds his manners towards the single mom reader with her baby <3. The relationship between Simon and the neighbor is a slow burn romance and by god it's so good, the way he is soft towards her. Fighting his feelings but letting them go. How he treats the little baby, as if he was father the whole time, god damn it, it's so sweet. There is very much Smut in this, the kinks are just fabulous. I will not spoil much but please read read!! Worth the love and the time spent onto this!!

FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT by @kneelingshadowsalome || MDNI || 18+

{Historical AU. Roman Auxilia soldier!König with his spoils of war gf. Slow burn, romance, violence, fluff, eventual smut, 18+}

König x F!Reader | The soldiers behind him shift with lust – their gear clinks as they devour you with unbridled hunger. The Titan is the only one who looks at you like you’re simply a cute little squirrel who happened to fall from a tree right there at his feet. Then his eyes drop to your breasts, and the familiar hunger that lives in men gives the ocean of his eyes a clouded look. When his stare finds yours again, he's a different man: the treacherous beast of your dreams.

Man on Man... where do I start with this. This is a four Part Story so there is more slow burn romance to eat. Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, and Dessert. The writing in this is so good! It's the right amount of character development, the way they use the language barrier in this is so creative and fun! Konig in this is just a treat, brash but loving, he's a man, course he's not gonna be a total prince charming. His interactions with the reader is very spicy and also sweet. The detail into the interactions *chef kiss*. Give me more! The Kinks are real good in this, reading this while curled up in my burrito blanket oof. Please do give this a chance, well worth it!

mafia!John Price x fem!wife!Reader by @cordeliawhohung || MDNI || 18+

All you wanted was to be able to see your husband after a long week at work, but when he stands you up at dinner, that's the last straw. You hunt him down and find him at a club that he owns, where you very quickly learn why he told you to stay very far away from the place. - Or, mafia!Price defends his wife's honor then fucks her in the VIP room <3

you want a fun horny but sweet/steamy Price x Reader one shot. Here have this wonderful snack, it's a big one :3. Just the way the reader was concerned for good ol Mr. Price with being a mafia boss. But then then smut goes in, yis :3. It's dirty but a good dirty! you want a man like John to treat you like a gentleman, this is it! <3

Price x Young Reader by @luvit || MDNI || 18+

This is short but sweet! Just a fun headcannon that the reader who is in their mid/late 20's so this is an age gap headcannon. It's not off portions with the age gap. The description talking about the reader having more energy than him onto their second or third round and he is milked dry oof, and then the reader becomes bratty and he takes the reigns despite his low energy <3 it's good :D.

Fae!Price x Witch!reader by @ghouljams || MDNI || 18+

Hear me out hear me out... fae!price... cool? Cool! The writing in this is so good! Price teasing the reader when the fae try to give you a gift and you know better to. Not giving out their name, or even your name. The Fae know how to be tricksters. And the smut in this, oh it's so spicy! I love it! I'm a slut for magic based writing. especially AU's like these!! Please give them a shot! I know I LOVED.

WICKER PYRE | Dragon!Price x Reader by @yeyinde || MDNI || 18+

All things considered, you should have expected it. You know better than to make deals with dragons.

Ah Ha, you see if you know me (or don't) I LOVE dragons!! Dragons are my favorite creature! I love them, and what's better when you can romance a dragon! I mean come on! Good shit my guy! And I love and accept the headcannon that Price would be a dragon 100% not because of the smoking of a cigar that's the 5%, it's the personality, the vibe, and the voice fits so perfectly. The writing in this is so damn spicy!! How rough and hot it is (no pun intended). The way he teases the reader, ah. Very nice~ please give his a read!

woe to the deer who is courted by the wolf . . . by @toshidou Vampire!Konig x reader || MDNI || 18+

You want Vampire!Konig in your pallet, say no more. Here have this damn meal! The beginning is very silly in a good way! But when you finally come across the man himself, it get's good. I love it when Writers use his German language in the writing, it's adds the mystery where I have to look it up and I go "OH!?". It's so good! I love it! It got that size difference and the a little blood play cause of the vampire thing but please read this! indulge thyself!!

Faint Jingling Brass by @cowyolks || MDNI || 18+

Prompt: There was something about you, something that urged the beast to enter your cottage. It was intrigued, sniffing the anguish of your very soul- and it wanted you.

Krampus!Konig... yeah uh give me the eggnog with the cookies please, this was a joy to read. Totally wouldn't bang Krampus, I don't know what you are talking about. The fact that the reader was totally willing to get punished, you know it's good. Spanking? Predator/Prey dynamic? Yes Yes!! Please read this!!

Your Grace by @cowyolks Prompt: As a loyal soldier to your King, you follow orders without question. So when the King asks you to kneel— you do as told. || MDNI || 18+

Fun fact, if I am correct Konig means king in German. Why not have an AU where Knoig is the king and you are def his favorite. The writing is so damn hot oof! It is in two parts though! And the reading is so worth it. Made me blush and curl up in my blanket as well! Please please read!!

[maelstrom007]

Me right now:

Ghoul with this fic you have thoroughly stolen my heart, you continue to write Mal so good it’s like you’re in my brain pulling on threads god it’s so fucking good. They’re in such good hands 😭

Literally when I read this I had the most dorky stupid grin on you have no idea. Absolutely could not keep my cool. I think I’ve read this at least three times now.

And now for the play by play of my reactions:

Haaaahahahahahahaha Ghost finally learns his fucking lesson, no aparating in the shop dammit!

Mal and Witch’s back and forth is literally so choice *chefs kiss*

Hehehe why is Mal making lace huh Witch? 👀👀👀 Wouldn’t be for a certain Fae man huh?

Lmao the pin to Ghosts shoulder genuinely made me gasp in shock that was funny as hell

“You don’t like the seer?” “Your chalk is burning my floor” Lmao Mal is god tier at deflecting

‘Oh my god, you completely skipped over asking about the Union’ honestly MOOD witch I do the same thing all the time

If there’s one thing Mal loves other than crafting…it’s gossip

‘Plus it could be funny’ Hehehehe gotta get entertainment from SOMEWHERE, why not from local relationship drama?

“I like Gaz” “He tried to wipe me” “Oh, yeah banned” Damn straight, it takes a bit to get close to Mal but once you do it’s ride or DIE

The three agreeing that Soap gives them the ick and preemptively banning him is hilarious

Hehehehehe god I love Mal’s wards so much, very much me projecting my wish to be able to just say aight bye and end social interactions

‘It’s been a while since you hosted them’ Dinner at Witch’s let’s goooooooo!!!!!!!! *air horn*

Hehe all your boys are creeps Price, laugh at their dumbasses and straighten them out will you?

Ghoul you are a national treasure and this fic was such a treat. I look forward to dinner at Witch’s if you ever feel inspired to do so ( with a little cameo of Price with his new beanie? 👀👀👀) hehe no I shouldn’t be feeding you new ideas after this behemoth.

I think the shop keeps need to unionize. The Fae boys are just too rambunctious and trouble makers (thinking wayyy way back to when König first got kicked out of Lieblings shop). They need to have a united front against these boys!

Maelstrom I love you so much and have written entirely too much for you. Writing Mal and the Witch's interactions is just so fucking fun.

Witch does some magic for Mal, and they enlist Liebling to form a shop keep union. Also some Price pining at the end.

Mal and their shop belong to @maelstrom007

You sit on Mal’s store counter, a heavy pendulum hanging under your hand. It swings lazily, the ring hardly moving from where it’s settled around your finger. You like coming to Mal’s, it’s cozy. The wards all buzz pleasantly, familiar and comfortable, and all the various knits and bundles give the place a warmth you don’t get anywhere else. Plus the company is good.

“He really shouldn’t be able to just pop in,” You hum, studying the brass sphere as it moves in small circles.

“And yet he continues to,” Mal replies, flipping through their ledger. You hum again, watching the pendulum go from its soft circling to a swaying back and forth as the shop door opens. You snap your wrist up and the chain jerks the sphere into your hand. “Not him,” Mal informs you, you let the pendulum drop back down.

You ignore the pickup conversation happening next to you, focusing on the shop’s wards. You can feel them fitting together like puzzle pieces. They’re snug, and shouldn't have any room for anything to slip through. Your instrument isn’t catching on any holes in the magic either. It would be nice if wild magic wasn’t so personal. You wince, thinking of the unfriendly magic you’d experienced recently. You’d never felt your wards do something like that. Maybe Mal needed something similar. The shop door opens and closes as you press the heel of your hand against your forehead.

“Maybe we need shopkeeper protections,” You mumble without thinking. Mal looks up from notating their list.

“What happened?” 

“Customer recently tried to wipe me,” You swallow, shake your head, let your hand drop back to your lap. Mal’s brows are furrowed with concern.

“Are you still-”

“No it’s all out now, but it was-”

Both of you jump as a mass of smoke and shadows collect and pop in the middle of the shop. It feels like a small vacuum being filled all at once. You stare at dark eyes behind a skull mask, smell smoke, that man is too damn big to be appearing like that in here. Mal is clutching their heart, fingers tight on the counter. The pendulum under your open palm swings frantically in all directions. 

“You!” You point your free hand at the man. He points at himself questioningly. “How’d you do that?”

“What?” He asks. You look at Mal who is slowly pulling themselves together again.

“Apparate,” They supply helpfully.

“Apparate,” You tell the man.

“Who’s asking?” His voice is gruff, in a way you’re sure someone else might find charming. You, however, find it to be avoiding the question. You fish a small chunk of smoky quartz from your pocket and chuck it at him. He catches it out of the air before it can hit him. Focus stuck.

“C’mere a second,” You wave him over. His eyes narrow behind the mask, flick to your pendulum and then the floor. He points at the chalk circle you’d drawn around the counter.

“You’re a witch.”

“Correct.” He looks at Mal.

“You hired a witch?”

“Hired is a strong word,” Mal glares at him, “She volunteered.”

“They’re making some lace for me.” You explain. The man gives you a “who asked” look. Rude. You jerk your pendulum up into your hand and stuff it into your pocket, pulling a strip of vellum and a pen free. You start transcribing runes and sigils on it, waving the man towards the counter again. After a moment’s hesitation he sighs and walks forward. “So how’s the apparating work? Is it a displacement? Are you filling a void? Slipping through a crack? What is it?”

“Can I pick up my order?” He’s ignoring you. That’s fine, you can feel the wisps of his magic in the circle without him explaining it. It almost reminds you of Price’s magic, the loose threads of it airy and shifting. You try to hone in on the vacuum feeling from earlier, drawing a circle around a few runes. Your magic plucks at his inquisitively, protected enough by the circle to be curious.

Mal marks the pickup down in their book and reaches under the counter for the neatly folded parcel. You glance at the bundle, try to feel the intention behind it. 

“You know you can use the front door,” Mal grumbles.

“Where’s the fun in that?” The man unfolds the pink knit fabric and sighs, “Dammit Love.” Despite the tone you can see his fingers rubbing one of the little bunny ears on the onesie fondly. You wonder if he’s got a baby at home. Then you’re stuck wondering who the hell would give this man a baby. You fix your intentions and get back to your work.

You finish your scribbling as he hands Mal payment. You read over your makeshift ward digging through your pockets. You thought you had some tape in here somewhere. No dice. You shrug and reach for a pin off the cushion on the counter, stabbing it through the top of your vellum strip.You’re just as quick to stab it into the shoulder of the masked man next to you.

“What the fu-” He pops out of the shop as the wards kick in. Mal blinks at the previously occupied space.

“Huh,” They settle the stack of gold coins on the counter, “Can I get a few more of those?”

You shake your head, “that's one of a kind sorry, but I think I’ve got how he’s slipping the wards. I’ll tweak them so he can’t pop in anymore.” You hop off the counter and scuff out the chalk circle to start your work.

“Maybe we do need shopkeeper protections.” You glance over your shoulder, watching Mal grab a broom to clean up the rest of the chalk now that it’s inert.

“What, like a union?”

“Or like the mafia,” Mal shrugs. You don’t think either of you would make a very good Don, but it’s a good idea.

“I think we’d need more than just the two of us,” You move one of the hanging knit samples aside to chalk in a few extra sigils on the wall.

“There’s the red bar nearby, and that flower shop,” Mal counts off.

“Plus the craft store,” You tap your chalk against the wall, “Do we just- What? Distribute fliers?”

“Unless you have a better idea.”

“I gotta go to the flower shop later, I’ll ask the owner.” Mal hums, you think it’s their annoyed hum. “You don’t like the seer?”

“Your chalk is trying to burn my floor,” They tell you instead. You nearly snap your neck turning to see what they’re talking about. Sure enough the remains of your circle are sparking angrily at something.

“Shit, what now?” You ask the chalk, hurrying to see what’s catching your magic before it does any permanent harm.

-

König is coming out of the shop as you make your way towards it. You give him a wide berth, not eager to get caught in his wake. You can feel the snap of magic at his heels, sparking against the shop’s threshold. He hardly pays you any mind, singularly focused on whatever is driving him out. You slip into the shop and take a full breath of the floral air. The shopkeeper is sort of dazedly picking through a bowl of rings.

“Where’s your guard dog going?” You ask, not used to the big guy being outside of the shop. You honestly thought he might be living in the back room. 

“I don’t know, we had a fight,” She sighs before shaking her head and giving you a confused look, “Sorry, dog?”

“Oh is he- is he not this place’s guard?” You glance around the shop, it doesn’t have any wards, you assumed the big fae was the ward.

“He’s my boyfriend?” She frowns, scrunching her face up. You think maybe you’re not close enough friends to have asked in the first place.

“Ah, well that makes sense I suppose.” It doesn’t. You don’t know how the fuck she could be dating that thing. You thought she was a seer, does she not- You know what, it’s not your circus.

“Can I help you with something?” There’s a polite level of snark in her tone, enough you could brush off if you weren’t paying attention. Right, you forgot how prickly this seer is. 

“I ordered a bundle of poppies,” You don’t really know how to pitch the union thing. You wish you had business cards. You often wish you had business cards.

“Don’t suppose you put a name to that order,” She grumbles, flipping through her ledger.

“Nope,” You pop the ‘p’, “might be under Witch? Or some variation of that.” This is why you like shopping at fae-adjacent businesses, the magical consideration. You don’t get nameless orders at the usual human shops. She taps the order line and goes to pull a bunch of flowers from one of the nearby cases.

“You’ve been here a few times, yeah?” She asks, setting the bouquet on the counter as you fish your wallet out of your overstuffed spell bag.

“You remember me!” She nods.

“Yeah your, uh,” She frowns, squints at you, or around you, “magic, I guess, is sort of… recognizable.” You bite your tongue to keep from asking what that means, what it looks like. You try not to be jealous of seers, but…

You hold out your hand, “I’m- Well, actually Witch works, that’s what the others call me.” You can almost hear the dial-up tone coming from the seer as she stares at your hand.

“I never know what to introduce myself as,” She says, taking your hand, “One of my friends calls me Lieb?” You shrug and release her hand after a quick shake.

“I can call you whatever you want, since we’ll be seeing more of each other you might as well be comfortable.” You tug your credit card free of your wallet, when you look back at her she’s staring at you, confused.

“Why would we be seeing more of each other?” Oh my God, you completely skipped over asking about the union.

“I’m- well me and Mal,” You stop, “Do you know Mal?”

“I pickup König’s orders from them sometimes.”

“Great,” You nod, “Mal and I thought it would be smart to have a little shopkeepers group.”

“Like a book club?” She frowns.

“Or a Union? What’s with you people?” You shake your head, doesn’t matter, “We can standardize rules, put some shop protections down-”

“Enforce bans,” Lieb mumbles, thinking aloud.

“Yeah, if you need to ban someone, sure.” You’ve never had to ban anyone from your place, although that might be changing quickly. You wonder if Mal’s ever had to ban anyone.

“Ok, I’m down.”

“That’s it?” You ask in disbelief. She shrugs.

“Sure,” She reaches to pull a few rings from the bowl on the counter, you’d recognize the scent of iron anywhere, “I could use some protections now that my dog is banned.”

-

"I think that just about does it for cross shop policies," you tap your pen against your notebook, reading over the various rules you three have been working on all evening. "Anything else we need to cover?"

"What to do with banned patrons," Lieb says. Despite her thorns you've found her proposed rules to be surprisingly reasonable. 

"Did you ban someone?" Mal asks, tipping their head curiously. Lieb nods and holds up her phone with a crudely drawn face on it. At least you think it's a face. "König? What did he do?"

"Is that important?"

"It's good gossip," Mal shrugs, "what do you want us to do about your ban? Ban him from our shops too?"

Lieb's eyes sparkle, her smile devious. "Would you?"

You and Mal look at each other. You're not likely to see the big guy in your house, but you know Mal's work when you see it. A ban from Mal might hurt as much or more than a ban from his girlfriend. Plus it could be funny. You both seem to come to that conclusion at the same time.

"If I banned Ghost would you ban Ghost?" Mal leans forward, clearly interested.

"Sure.” Lieb shrugs.

"I wanna ban Gaz," you chime in. Mal gives you a look.

"I like Gaz."

"He tried to wipe me."

"Oh," Mal nods, "yeah, banned."

"Anyone else?" You ask the group. Mal and Lieb both think for a moment.

"Soap?" Lieb asks hesitantly, "I think that's his name: spooky, kinda electric, hangs around artsy folks?"

“Doesn’t come in my shop,” You tell her, since the description doesn’t ring a bell.

“Mine neither,” Mal agrees, “But he can be banned.”

You jot down the names in your notebook with short descriptions. A banned list is smart, easier to keep track of if there’s more than one shop keeping an eye out for them. It’s a tidy list, four fae that should be easily convinced to follow the rules. You can ask Price later about how to enforce the list, there’s probably a trick to it.

“Do we need time limits on the bans? I can’t imagine you’re going to keep your boyfriend banned forever,” You catch Lieb’s attention from where she’s typing rapidly on her phone.

“A month?” She proposes, “At least for the less personal bans. I’ll let you both know when I unban König.”

“I can do a month,” Mal looks at you and you nod. A month is fine. Mal stands from their seat and pats their legs, “Cool, well, if that’s everything, I wanna close up.”

You glance at the walls, feeling the wards wrap around you. You’re glad to feel they’re working properly, especially with the new changes to them. Lieb scrunches her shoulders up to her ears, apparently less happy with the constricting wards. It’s always felt like a too tight hug to you, but it’s your magic. You expect it’s drastically less pleasant for others.

You usher Lieb out to let Mal close up, and offer your friend the promise of a meal soon. After all, it’s been a while since you hosted them.

-

Price stares at your list with an unreadable expression. He’s leaning against your wall, as is his wont, his elbows propping him up as you sit on the brick beside him. You’re stripping herbs into a little clay bowl, picking the leaves off and waiting for him to finish his thoughts. Your rules already have Mal’s fae stamp of approval, but Price is the one that’s best at bending them. If anything has too glaring a loophole, he’ll find it. 

You’d planned on telling him about Gaz’s ban after he read over everything but it had spilled out of you as soon as you saw him. Luckily he’d fully agreed. He seemed almost relieved to hear it, you thought he’d be upset at having one of his friends banned. It’s an unexpected treat to hear Price take your side. You’ve been smiling to yourself about it since you handed him your rules list.

“These apply to me now too?” He asks, breaking the comfortable silence between you. You finish plucking the leaves off a sprig of rosemary and settle the bowl next to you so you can wipe your tired fingers on your apron.

“You’re not a customer,” You tell him. Price’s eyes sparkle with some fond mischief, you’re sure it should make you wary, but you’ve put a lot of thought into this. He isn’t a customer, and has never made himself out to be. If anything you’re trade partners, passing goods back and forth over your fence.

“Smart girl,” His praise never fails to make your stomach flip. He turns your list of rules over, his eyes sliding over the banned names on the back. “What’s this?” You can see the hint of a smile starting to form on his lips.

“Banned customers,” You lean to read over the short list. Price glances at you, or part of you. His gaze flicks to your chest before he clears his throat and pushes off the wall to stand upright. He keeps his eyes fixed on the paper in his hand. “I thought you might be able to help with how to enforce it.”

You look up at him through your lashes, and he’s sure you know how sweet you look asking for his help. He’d grab you off the wall and take you home if he didn’t think you’d put up a hell of a fight. Price understands all too well why the fae steal pretty things like you. If you weren’t so well guarded he might’ve already had you hidden away. It would be easier like that. Another fairytale for the books, another fae without a care in the world taking what it wants when it wants to.

If he didn’t know you it would all be easier. He might’ve been satisfied just stealing you then.

He keeps his eyes on your list. Pretends to think it over so he doesn’t have to look at you. Perfect, maddening, you. Honestly, if it were anyone but you handing him this list he might laugh, hell he still might. His whole team banned from three shops in one stroke, and him desperately glad not to follow the rules. “No touching” how could he ever survive that?

[rivalriotrenegade]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

About this fic: This is technically supposed to be a Monster Simon x reader but can also be read as just human Simon. The monster type isn't specified so you can read it with whatever monster you have in mind! This is also inspired by @ghouljams Fae!Ghost AU. So if you like this I HIGHLY recommend checking out some of their stuff. Its amazing!

Word count: 719

Warnings: GN reader, small references to kinks and slight NSFW so if you ain't 18 this ain't for you :) Sorry not sorry. I also can't figure out the :readmore: so that's my bad guys.

You sit on Simon’s lap quietly reading as his face rests between your shoulder and neck, completely unaware of the inner turmoil that he’s currently going through. The longer you sit there, the more the edges of his mind begin to fray as he takes in your scent. 

It calls to him. Reawakens parts of himself he thought he had long since buried. A forgotten instinct that he had tucked away deep within the darkest corners of his mind. Slowly, he feels it coming back to life, the darker, more possessive parts of himself.

The parts that make him want to snarl and snap at anyone who gets too close, at anyone who would dare take you away. Friend or foe, it doesn’t matter. He wants to stay like this forever, everyone else be damned. 

He toys with the thought of sinking his fangs into you, of permanently marking you as his. His mouth waters at the thought. Simon Riley was never one to make a show of things, but the idea of everyone knowing who you belong to fills his head with plenty of dark fantasies. 

His instincts scream at him to do it. “Now! Before someone else comes and takes them away!” They cry. If he was thinking logically he’d know that you would never leave him for anyone else, but he’s not thinking logically. All he knows is that you’re his and he needs everyone else to know it too. “Mine. Mine. MINE!” 

Unconsciously he digs his fingers into you, pulling your body impossibly closer to him, determined to keep you there. Your flesh fills his hands perfectly, so soft and supple and all his. 

The things he’d do for you, the things he’d do to keep you safe are outweighed only by the things he wants to do to you. All the nasty, horrible things. Things that’d make you scream and cry and beg for mercy… or maybe you’d beg for more? He doesn’t know which sounds better. 

He wants you under him, filled to the brim with everything he has to offer! He wants to bring you to the brink of sanity and push you over it again and again. It doesn’t really matter how, though he might have some preferences. 

Tied up and blindfolded or lost and hunted? Either would do. Humans are always so scared of the unknown, but he’d make sure you had nothing to fear. Nothing but him, that is. Pain and pleasure can be interchangeable or are they one in the same? 

He doesn’t know anymore. Blame the war or the torture he’s endured or even his fucked up childhood. All he knows is that whatever it is it feels good. He’s never cared for anyone else’s pleasure but his own, but he wants, no he needs for you to feel good too. 

But you're so different from him. Would you be able to handle all the vile things he’d do to you? Could you handle being held down and marked up? Could you handle being manhandled, bent to his every whim and desire as he slammed into you? Could you even take his—

“Are you okay? You’re breathing kind of heavy.” You ask him sweetly and just like that he snaps out of it. Carefully he shakes his head dismissing the intrusive thoughts. “I’m fine love, just go back to reading, yeah?” You look at him, tilting your head inquisitively. “Are you sure?” You ask. His heart hammers inside his chest, like a caged animal trying to break free. “Yeah lovie, I’m sure.” 

Your eyes soften and you smile at him in a way that gets his blood racing. “I love you.” You say, so gently that it’s hard to even fathom that you’re talking to him. A man so messed up and broken. He swallows thickly. He can hardly believe that someone like you, so kind and caring, gentle to a fault, would choose to love a monster like him. If you knew what really went on inside his head, would you still love him? 

He has to remind himself that you don’t know what goes on inside his head. You're so far away from the monster that he knows himself to be. So for now he’ll keep on indulging in you. “I love you too.” 

That's all guys! I hope you enjoyed it and I also really hope it wasn't too cringe. If you have thoughts on it please let me know. Constructive criticism is ALWAYS appreciated. Have a lovely day!

[thedovesaredying]

Reverse Fae AU | Fae!Reader x Nikto

Once again I have been tempted into the fae wilds again by the dear @ghouljams and have another piece for your enjoyment! No smut just yet, but it'll be in the next part I post. This fic is just a bit of a "how reader gets her man" explaination.

Putting Nikto through The Horrors TM. because if no one else will then I guess it has to be me.

Y'all might be able to tell SCP-1128 is one of my faves, so I drew a bit of inspiration from there. Unedited as always baby!

Previous | Next

He’s made a mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake.  

A voice hums so softly from the bathroom, echoes bouncing against the tiles to create a strange, hypnotic symphony. The sound is so gentle, luring his body into a false sense of security, muscles growing lax despite the thundering of his heart against his chest. His brain is confused, knowing there’s something wrong, but unable to feel the fear he should be trembling with.  

It calls his name in a saccharine tone, dripping with false sweetness. Not even Nikto, but his real name, the one he’s hidden for so long. Despite covering his ears and gritting his teeth against the sound, he can still hear it deep within his mind. He can almost feel the way fingers comb through his thoughts, plucking at his already frail restraint.  

“Отвяжись!” He snaps, nails digging into his own scalp as if he could tear the creature’s influence from his brain with his own two hands.  

“Just open the door,” that damn voice coos, undercut by the sound of claws dragging down the edge of the doorframe. “You called me here, silly human,” the little giggle it makes causes his stomach to flip and a fluttering sensation to develop rather rapidly, “why are you hiding from me?”  

He wants to snarl back that it was a mistake, but you’ve started humming that strange song again, and his entire body has begun to feel as if it’s weighed down by lead. The only sound he can make is a rather pathetic groan, his eyes drooping with a sudden wave of exhaustion.  

He never should have accepted that “gift” from a fae, his babushka would absolutely have his head if she were still around. She’d told him tales, as all grandmothers tend to do, many of them revolving around the trickery and cruelty of the fae. They never do something or give something without expecting something in return.  

It had given him the little vial of water, pressing it into his gloved hands with a grin still dripping blood stolen from the body of one of his allies. “Keep it,” the monster whispers, tickling his ears with her breath despite the many layers of clothing between them, “keep it on your body, at all times.” Her fingers, tipped with dangerously sharp nails gently trail down the front of his body armour, voice purring in a way that sends shivers down his spine.  

He knew better than to refuse, lest it be considered a slight against the creature, and took the little glass jar of water, tucking it into his shirt and watching as the fae disappears back into the lake with a satisfied grin.  

The first time his little gift was used was entirely by accident. A simple infiltration mission where Nikto and his fellow KorTac operators were supposed to be gathering intel before returning to exfil.  

Perhaps it’s because of how simple the mission had been that caused him to grow sloppy. His mind was elsewhere, and that was something the enemy seemed to have noticed and were quick to capitalise on. He would be a little embarrassed if it weren’t for how the rest of the scenario had played out.  

A young enemy soldier – a child really, too young to have more than a few patchy hairs growing on his face – he’d been cocky enough (or perhaps desperate enough) to think he could get the jump on him. A shame, as the boy might have had potential had he not made the mistake of trying to fight the wrong mercenary.  

When he turns a blind corner, the boy was ready for him, choosing to lunge forward, combat knife poised to strike at the Russian’s throat. Nikto is fast enough to deflect the blade with the armoured back of his arm but is forced to release his grip on his rifle in order to do so.  

A kick to the enemy’s stomach has the boy stumbling backward, but before Nikto can continue, a second opponent joins the scuffle. The other man tries to tackle him, but it only opens them up to the headlock Nikto grapples them into.  

A rough jerk of his own knife against the enemy’s throat has arteries and veins shredding under his hand and a spray of blood bursting forth in all directions. He throws the flailing body to the floor, ignoring the way the man weakly grasps at his throat, a pool of crimson growing with every passing moment.  

The younger soldier reaches for him again, ignoring their fallen comrade as they try again to reach for Nikto with one hand and swipe at him with their other one. He dodges the slash once again but isn’t fast enough to evade the man completely. The boy’s fingers wrap around the thin twine keeping the tiny jar of water around his neck.  

The fabric is thin enough that his backward momentum easily snaps it, the vial falling away the moment the enemy tosses it aside. It smashes into the ground, thin glass splintering apart and the clear liquid inside dripping into the large pool of blood.  

He’s upset, if only because it’s the only proof he has of the strange encounter several months ago. No one would ever believe him if he spoke of it and on some days, he too doubts his own memories. Yet there lay the proof, proof that he’d somehow managed to please the fae creature enough for it to offer him a gift in return.  

Wish a snarl, he lands a devastating kick to the boy’s stomach, sending the lad stumbling backwards. As he steps back to create more rooms for himself, he’s cautious to move around the bloody puddle. Though his eyes remain trained on the boy – now righting himself and refilling his lungs with the air that Nikto’s strike had stolen from him – he can’t help but to glance at the blood.  

His eyes are drawn to it like magnets, his hair standing on end as something sends a shiver down his spine. Darkness seems to swirl within the ruby pool, deepening its colour until it’s almost black. Looking away from it feels as foolish as turning his back to a wild animal, but he must keep focus on the more present danger. His curiosities can be indulged later.  

The boy has his dagger raised and poised to strike at the first sign of weakness, taking a single step closer. His foot meets the puddle and, before he even has the chance to so much as scream, his body is falling as though the floor below him has suddenly vanished. The soldier’s arms grab at the ground next to the blood, only just stopping him from being completely submerged.  

He watches the boy splutter, arms flailing and water sloshing all over the floor. The larger the puddle grows from his rapid movements, the more the floor seems to disappear. The other soldier struggles to stay afloat, rapidly losing more ground the more he battles against the seemingly never-ending liquid.  

Nikto watches, unable to do much more than openly stare, the other man is suddenly torn from above the water. The soldier can only let out the beginnings of a scream, but it’s immediately muffled by the sound of the water splashing in his wake. It disturbs the corpse of the other deceased soldier, and he watches as it too slips below the surface.  

With the other soldier no longer disturbing the pool’s surface, the puddle has finally stopped its terrifying expansion. But he doesn’t have the time to relax, as a large fin cuts through the water, reminiscent of a shark’s dorsal fin in the way it so seamlessly glides along without causing so much as a ripple.  

A soft song floats up from the abyss, alien and terrifying, yet somehow one of the most alluring sounds he’s ever heard. There’s an urge that builds within him, a desperate need to get closer to the water. He can’t help it, almost as though his body is moving while his mind is somewhere else.  

He hears rather than feels it when he falls to his knees, reaching out and dipping his hands into the pool. There’s a voice somewhere in the back of his head screaming, brain trying to trigger every fight or flight response in the hopes of something getting through to his body that seems to have gone rogue.  

His arms don’t stop, even as his gloves begin to fill with water, not until he feels something brush against the tips of his fingers. He wants to pull away, to tear himself back from whatever creature just pulled the other soldier to his death. But he holds still, hands held outstretched.  

He feels as something press up against his palm, before suddenly, it’s as though a switch is flipped in his brain and all bodily control has returned to him. With a jerk, he throws himself away from the pool, shoving himself away from the water.  

As the water settles, the room falls into silence. A moment later, someone rounds the corner, guns raised and sweeping the room. It’s his colleagues, all staring at him as though he’s lost him mind.  

“Are you broken, sir?” One of them asks.  

He frowns for a second, before realising that his gloves which were damp with water, are now stained with a deep red, a pungent metallic scent burning his nose even through his mask. Perhaps his men aren’t completely foolish, the blood stains do look rather grizzly in hindsight.  

“нет,” he waves them off, pushing back to his feet as he tries to calm his still racing heart. A single glance at the puddle reveals it is once again just that, a mere puddle of blood and nothing more. When he looks down to what was placed into his hand, he’s met with a vial of crystal-clear water, identical to his previous one.  

If he had been smart, he would have thrown the water away and run, but something compelled him to keep it close. Perhaps if he had, then he wouldn’t be in this situation now.  

Her voice had whispered to him, encouraging him to pour a drop of the water into a full bath. It pulled at his curiosity, digging its claws into his thoughts and pushing him to do something he already knew was foolish.  

As the fae starts calling for him again, he digs his hands into his hair, praying that the pain will distract him from the haunting song that creeps through the crack in the door. He closes his eyes, but when they open- He's stood inside the bathroom again, his muscles locked up and completely frozen.  

He can feel claws sliding up the back of his shirt, no longer protected by his usual body armour. The sensation sends goosebumps rising in the wake of each claw, climbing up and up and up, until finally reaching the back of his neck. Fingers shifting to curl around his throat, holding him in place with a grip like steel.  

Despite trying with every shred of strength to try and pull away, body shaking from the exertion, he’s still unable to move. He can’t even widen his eyes as another hand grabs at his face, pressing against his scarred cheeks until his mouth is forced open. A single, clawed finger slides between his lips, pressing down on his tongue hard, until a tiny bead of blood pools beneath its tip.  

He chokes when water begins to rush from the creature’s hand and directly into his mouth, but rather than the normally cool, soothing sensation that should have met him, it burns more like acid. It hits the tiny wound in his mouth, mixing with his own blood and burning through his entire body.  

He can’t tell how long it lasts for, not with the way his brain begins to fog over. The thoughts slowly drift away, and he can’t quite recall why he should care so much about that. Without the fear he can at least appreciate the cool hands that drop from his face and throat, then down to his chest, only the thin fabric of a sleep shirt separating the hands from his burning skin.  

“That feels better now, doesn’t it?” that soft voice coos, lips brushing over his pulse point, followed by the gentle scraping of teeth.  

He can only hum in agreement, eyes drooping as his head slowly drops down slightly. He feels a forehead press against his own, looking up and into the pools of liquid black staring back at him. “да,” he breathes, enjoying the unfamiliar sensation of another person’s hands roaming his body.  

“Let’s get you home then, yes?” He nods against her, ignoring the way his stomach twists nervously when the fae only grins.  

[reyesbignaturals]

Based off of @ghouljams fae au that is like worms in my brain

[possibly-inhuman]

Well, Fae!AU by @ghouljams got me out of my months long art block. Idk man I don’t make the rules, I see awful terrible nasty man obsessed with his love and I’m ✨invested✨

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

A Changeling currently going through human school 🤝 The Autistic Kid in their classes

[maelstrom007]

Malcontent

A look into Mal's origin story, my oc from @ghouljams cod Fae!au.

Warnings: Child in distress, and risk of drowning. The child doesn't actually drown, and the situation is resolved by the end.

In the moment, it didn’t occur to Maeve how sad it was that she was the only person struck with a sense of urgency at the noise coming from the well. No, it took her several days before the anguish, anger, and despair properly took her body and froze it stone cold. But we’re not there yet. We’re here in the now. And right now, there is a haunting, bone chilling wailing emanating from the well. 

Maeve nearly falls in herself with how quickly she runs, pail forgotten as she peers over the edge. The desperate sound of a child’s scream echoes off of the stone walls and pierces her ears. But it’s the sight of the small child, face contorted in fear and confusion as it tries to find purchase on the wet stone that truly breaks her. 

“Shhh, sweetheart. Ye’re alright, I’ll get you out don’t ye worry,” Maeve called down, calm and steady. 

Unfortunately the communal bucket and rope were down the well with the child, who most likely pulled the free end of the rope out of its temporary mooring in an attempt to climb out. There would never be a time where Maeve was happiest to be a crafter, pulling a long length of cordage from her rucksack and tying a large loop on one end of it. When she was done she tossed it down, keeping a firm grip on the free end. 

Over the continued panicking cries of the child she yelled, “Put your legs through and rest the loop under your bum sweet thing. Now grab the rope and hold tight.” 

Fear and determination fuelled Maeve as she heaved, struggling against the weight of a sopping wet child as she slowly pulled them out of the well. There was a brief moment of terror where her hands slipped on the second half of the cordage that had become wet when it landed in the water. Despite the burning feeling of rough and woody fiber pulling through her palms she held fast, regaining her grip and pulling with all her strength. Bright red hair peaked over the edge of the well, and Maeve desperately held the tension in the cord with one hand  as she reached out with the other, scooping up the child into her arms. They latched onto her like a leech, nearly squeezing the life out of her as they cried into her neck. 

“There there, I’ve got ye now. Don’ worry a thing lovely,” she murmured, wrapping the child in her cloak, the bright yellow accompanying the mop of fiery red hair nicely. 

By the time they walked home, the child had settled down somewhat in her arms, no longer crying the blood curdling scream from earlier, but still shouting and bawling something fierce. Out from the front door rushed her daughter, long flaxen hair streaming behind her as she came to investigate. 

“Ma, who’s this?”, she said, poking at the bundle in her arms.

“I haven’t a clue darling, But first, let's get them warmed up. Feed the fire will you Niamh.”

Maeve sat in front of the fire, cradling the bundle in her arms as Niamh set it blazing hot. She cooed, humming under her breath and rocking gently. Niamh sat down next to her, watching intently as the child continued to cry, but said nothing. They sat there so long that her daughter fell asleep on her shoulder, snoring gently. And still they cried, and still Maeve soothed, all the way until the morning dawn. Only then, did the cries turn to sniffles, until finally they stopped completely. 

“There we are,” she murmured, “feeling better darling?”

Pulling away from Maeve's shoulder, the child finally turned to face her for the first time, face still scrunched tight and wet with tears. 

“Come now, relax,” she gently brushed her fingers over the child’s face, soothing worry lines and wrinkles until their face was lax and still in her hands. 

“Open your eyes wee thing.” 

Now, there were plenty of things Maeve was expecting, such as brown or maybe even blue eyes to peer back at her with the whites bloodshot and red from the river of tears. 

What she was not expecting was the set of four large, perfectly circular black eyes staring back at her. To her credit, she did not flinch or otherwise spook at the sight, peculiar though it was. At that point in time, all she was concerned about was making sure the poor thing was alright. 

The next thing that happened though, she did startle at. The child began to squirm, turning their head this way and that desperately in search of something. It wasn’t until they spotted Niamh did they stop their search, going stock still as they looked upon her daughter. Almost imperceptibly, the child pivoted their head at multiple angles, as if they were studying her. Then, their outline began to blur into the surrounding air, as if looking at a mirage on a hot day. Suddenly, they came back into crystal clear focus, except now in the shape of her sleeping daughter. 

Maeve’s eyes widened in shock, arms squeezing slightly at the new development. Had she had too much to drink? Was this some elaborate nightmare? But the more she looked, the more she saw the differences. For a start their hair was still shockingly red as ever, but there were other things too. The mole was on the wrong side, and the scar across the brow Niamh had gotten as a toddler was missing, and a multitude of other small discrepancies revealed the poor attempt at what Maeve assumed was blending in. 

She’d heard about creatures like this. Faeries swapping a human child with their own, tormenting their new family until it drove them into destitution and ruin. The child's eyes were still large and black, although seemingly reduced from four to two in the mimicking attempt. How could anyone believe that those eyes wished them harm? Staring up trustingly at her, completely at her mercy. She could have let them drown, or tossed them into the hot fire, and yet it trusted her not to. 

“Do you have a name?” She wondered aloud. Just as she wondered if they knew how to talk, the child spoke. 

“My name is Malcontent,” they whispered, thankfully not in Niamh’s voice. Maeve didn’t know if she could keep it together if they did. 

Pity crossed her features, “What a terrible name for a child. We should change it to something more pleasant.”

“NO!” Malcontent screamed, face contorted in anger, “My name is Malcontent!” 

The irony of the situation did not escape her, “Why would your parents give you such a name?” 

Like a switch, anger was replaced with sadness, “My parents didn’t give me that name. The ones they left me with gave it to me. Kept saying how I couldn’t be their child cause their angel was never as unhappy and angry as I was. I just wanted to go home. But I don’t know how.”

Maeve listened intently, tears poking at the corners of her eyes, “You sure have a lot of words for a child so small.” To that, Malcontent had no response, so she continued, “It was unfair of them to give you such a burdening name. Names have power, and what else could you do but be upset and angry and sad being called something like Malcontent all day?”

“But I was sad and angry and upset before them. And I always will be,” they mutter determinedly. 

Maeve made one last attempt, “I think you should consider trying another name for a while. See how it feels?”

“Fine. But I don’t know many names.” they scowled, as if inconvenienced by the fact that Maeve was trying to save them from the most upsetting name she had ever heard. 

She paused, thinking of the options. There were a multitude of names to choose from, many of which could be a fitting and pleasant name to bear. However, it also felt wrong to completely wash over and erase a part of this child's history and experiences. 

“How about Mal?”

[grizzersmamma]

Son of Zmei | Fae AU | Nikto x F!Reader | Part 3.

Overview: You try to take the dog somewhere he'll be safe and be returned to his owner. The dog, however, has other ideas, much to your chagrin.

A/N: I've had this sat in my drafts for a while needing to be finalized. Just a reminder that this isn't one of my main fics, just a silly side work for my own indulgence, so updates may be sporadic. Tagging the amazing @ghouljams as always.

Warnings: None

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

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You wake to the unpleasant sensation of hot, damp breath in your face. As you slowly blink your eyes back open, you’re met with the face of the black dog, its amber eyes staring down at you intently without blinking. When it notices you’re awake, the dog huffs – relief or annoyance you can’t really tell – and takes a few steps back to give you some room to sit up.  

The dog sits itself down, patiently waiting and watching as you push yourself off the floor, rubbing at the back of your head. It pulses at you angrily, clearly not appreciating being smacked onto the floor when you passed out.  

“Did you just speak?” you anxiously ask the canine, body gearing up to flee should it actually respond.  

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately for your sanity, the dog simply stares at you silently. Its head tilts to the side, blinking at you slowly, before standing up and wandering away, disinterested.  

“I’m losing it,” you mumble to yourself, head resting in your hands. Of course a dog can’t talk, why would your mind even come up with that? Is it just the stress of yesterday and this morning finally catching up with you? Perhaps you need to speak to someone if you’re having hallucinations of talking animals.  

Regardless, you need to get the dog out of your house, if only to ensure that its owner won’t come to you looking for it. The man doesn’t know where you live, but you really don’t need him thinking you’re trying to steal his pet.  

Getting back to your feet and brushing off your pants, you call for the dog in a bright, excitable tone. It returns with the soft tapping of claws on laminate, ears perked up and trained on you. He sits at your feet, posture dead straight as if waiting for commands. He’s rather intense for a dog, though that may just be his rather large size talking.  

You don’t own a leash and the dog is lacking a collar, but he seems well trained enough that you doubt he’ll run off. Besides, there’s a veterinary clinic just a short walk down the street from your house where you can probably drop the animal off. With any luck someone there will recognise the dog since, well, he’s a rather unique breed for the area, and will be able to contact his rightful owner.  

“Come on then, good boy,” you call a little overexcitedly, grabbing your house keys and opening the door.  

The dog follows you without issue, patiently waiting at your side while you lock up, then remaining in a perfect heel as you start down the concrete path toward the town centre. He’s remarkably well behaved, walking between you and the road, uninterested in anything else around you. Even when a dog starts barking at the two of you from the other side of the road, the dog beside you doesn’t so much as flinch, eyes still firmly focused on the path ahead.  

Fortunately, the walk to the vet is quick thanks to the dog’s good behaviour, and he follows you inside without problem. The women inside excitedly swarm the fluffy animal, cooing at him and stroking his fur. He seems less than impressed with the strangers smothering him with affection but tolerates it with only a handful of resigned huffs.  

You fill out the form that the kind receptionist hands you while one of the nurses gently leads the dog through the door and into the back of the clinic. He pauses at the door, staring at you as if asking what you want him to do. He waits patiently until you offer him a soft, “go on then,” in an encouraging voice, waving him on.  

The vets assure you that they’ll get the dog back to his rightful owner and you take your leave, happy knowing he’ll get home safe. You, perhaps foolishly, assume that will be the end of things.  

You get halfway home when you notice the sound of claws tapping against the concrete behind you. When you turn around, you near enough jump out of your skin. The dog is standing behind you again. “What the-” you blink at the dog while he stares up at you, ignoring your surprise and simply continuing on his way back toward your house.  

You look back and forth, down the road toward the vet clinic and back at the dog again, like the explanation for the dog’s sudden reappearance will abruptly make itself clear.  

Taking your phone out, you quickly search up the phone number of the vet, dialing it and waiting until the call connects. You exchange a brief greeting, before continuing, “I was just at the clinic to drop off a dog I found, but he’s just come up to me again...?”  

The woman on the other end of the phone breathes out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God, he just vanished! We had him locked in one of the crates while dealing with another patient and when we came back, he was just gone!” The poor woman sounds slightly frantic as she adds, “we’ve been searching the whole building for him.”  

By now, the dog has noticed you aren’t following and quickly returns to your side, sitting patiently at your feet.  

“Would it be too much trouble for you to return him to the clinic?” the woman asks, hanging up when you offer a weak agreement. She sounded almost as frazzled as you feel, looking into the pale blue eyes of the massive dog. They’re certainly a unique colour, far from the dark browns and golds of most canines, but they also seem to hold a depth to them you’re unfamiliar with.  

It makes you uncomfortable just to meet the animal’s gaze, reminded so much of his strange owner.  

“Okay, buddy, let’s get you back to the vet, yeah?” you try to keep you voice as steady and friendly as possible, constantly repeating to yourself that’s it’s only a dog, nothing more. So what if he seems to understand whatever you’re saying and occasionally have eerily human responses. You just need to get rid of it, then everything will go back to normal.  

The dog once again follows you to the clinic, following a different nurse this time through the doors. The receptionist offers you a brief word of thanks, and you make your hasty retreat.  

This time, there are no following paws, and you’re able to make the short trip back to your house without issue. Taking a quick visual sweep of both sides of the street and ensuring you are well and truly alone, you unlock the front door and quickly slide inside, very nearly slamming it closed and flicking the lock back into place. 

You take a deep breath to steady your thundering heart, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation. It’s a dog. You’re acting like a frightened child over some fluffy dog just because it gives you weird vibes. 

Ridiculous.  

Mourning your poor sanity, you let out a relieved sigh and turn around.  

The dog is sitting behind you.  

You’re not sure how many curse words you shriek out, falling backwards against the door with a hand clutching your chest. It’s back. The damn dog is back, and it’s in your house. How did it even get into the house? How did it get away from the vets again? Why does it keep coming back? 

It stares at you in complete silence, head tilting slightly to the side as it watches you struggle for breath.  

“Why are you here?!” You must look like a mad person, screaming at a dog, but there’s very little else you can think to do. You feel as though you’re losing your mind.  

Standing back up properly again, you quickly unlock the door and pull it open again. “Out!” you practically shout, waving at the animal, “get out!” You’ve finally reached your limit; you need this weird dog to leave you alone before you completely lose it. The dog just blinks at you slowly, but thankfully, blessedly, it complies with your screamed demand.  

The moment it’s outside you slam the door closed and slide the lock back into place, taking a few steps back and breathing. A quick glance through the window and you can see the dog is sitting right on the front step of your house, back to your door and his gaze focused on the other side of your fence.  

It isn’t gone, but at the very lease you have the inside of your house to yourself again.