#goblin woman i'm dYING

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

The sweet taste of wine

Yess!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, alcohol, fluff

Word count: 7,412

Summary: You want to be less shy with her...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Like this?” you asked, placing the fabric so the lady in black could examine another of your attempts to learn to sew.

The night was always quiet at the Beneviento estate. The darkness you believed existed in that place faded away like a bank of fog under the sun. You, the youngest of four siblings, a young, shy and lonely girl, never thought about all the real possibilities that were within your reach.

Resigned to living like the rest of your family, to an ephemeral and boring existence, you had the good, or bad luck of entering the forest during a storm, of getting lost like in one of the stories you used to read.

There were no witches, no bread crumbs, no goblins. The only thing there was it’s a lonely house, of a lonely woman.

When Donna Beneviento, the village Lord, a mysterious and dark woman, appeared at the door, you thought you saw the very portrait of death, the black color of darkness. Maybe you had read too much nonsense, maybe you had heard too many legends that spoke of how fearsome and dangerous the lady in black was.

Nothing you had heard seemed real. The monsters, the ghosts of your past didn’t appear to torment you. There was no torture, there was no desire to throw yourself off that cliff, no; what there was it’s shelter, a hot tea and a silent gaze that remained fixed on yours during that unexpected visit.

Disturbed, sick and deformed, those were the villagers' favorite adjectives to refer to that mysterious figure, that woman covered by a black veil, that woman who didn’t speak to you directly, but used that Angie doll to ask dry and simple questions.

You might think that the fear you felt that afternoon attracted her attention, that the tremors in your hand seemed to be almost addictive to her. You even came to think that the tea was poisoned, that, without you realizing it, your torture had already begun.

It wasn't like that.

Little by little, you began to walk through that forest again, to cross that bridge. There were no more storms or dangers that pushed you to continue, only curiosity, only the desire to meet that woman who was so dangerous and kind at the same time.

And so the days, the weeks became a routine journey, a journey of discovery for the two of you. Curiosity changed to another feeling, one you had never felt, one you had read about and didn't believe possible for you: love.

Love for that veiled woman, for the voice that began to sound behind that cloth, for a hoarse and melodic whisper that no longer asked absurd questions, but seemed to be dying to know more things about you.

And then, you saw her; you saw that hidden face, the beauty that no one wanted to believe existed. The veil fell before your eyes, her frightened gaze was revealed to you. You were in love, and so was she.

No stupid scar could make you stop thinking that she was beautiful, neither fear, nor nervous breakdowns, nor the danger of that woman made you back away, prevented you from getting a little closer, just a little closer, until your lips softly collided with hers.

A kiss, the first kiss.

It wasn't long until, determined to keep that softness on your lips, those gentle caresses, those romantic words, you left your crowded home to embark on a new adventure, to live with Donna.

And so, more months passed. You might not be what she was looking for. It might be that your shyness and embarrassment were not something she had taken into account when loving you, but everything was going well, very well. Your life had gone from being boring and absurd, to perfect… Well, almost perfect.

“Let me take a look, tesoro,” Donna told you, kindly taking the piece of fabric you offered her and which you sewed.

“It’s horrible, I know,” you said, sighing, embarrassed again by your poor skills. She shook her head, running a finger along that misshapen seam.

“No, no…” she murmured, undoing one of the seams effortlessly, another mistake. “I mean, it’s not bad.”

“You’re such a bad liar, Donna,” you said, taking the fabric again and huffing in embarrassment, frustrated.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N), no one learns to sew in one night,” she said, smiling, coming closer to put one hand on yours, guiding the other down your cheek, forcing you to look at her.

“I'm sure you think I'm stupid,” you murmured, playing with that horribly sewn piece of fabric. “My sisters know how to sew perfectly.”

“I don't think so,” the lady in black answered, with a cold voice, with a serious look, without letting your hand go.

“I've ruined another one of your fabrics…” you sighed, shaking your head, looking at that seam again. “I'll never be able to help you.”

“Help me?” The doll maker asked, curious, coming closer so she could take both of your hands and gently guide them to the fabric so you could start sewing again. “Try holding the needle this way…”

You nodded, letting her hands play with yours, letting her advice stay in your mind so you wouldn't forget it. You would, you were a pretty clumsy girl but Donna... She didn't seem to mind.

“Well, you know, I'm here, at your house, you make me lunch, dinner... I'm spending your resources without giving you anything in return,” you sighed.

“Sciocchezze...” Donna murmured, letting your hands go so you could continue sewing by yourself. You looked at her with a frown, but continued.

“Sci... Scios...Sco...” you tried to repeat, sighing when you were unable to.

“Sciocchezze,” she repeated, much more slowly so you could understand her. You didn't, of course.

“S… Scio…” you tried to say again, huffing in defeat, embarrassed by your clumsiness.

Donna laughed tenderly, watching the movements of your hand, which resumed when your cheeks blushed, looking for a way to escape from your embarrassment.

“It's not funny,” you whispered in a low voice. She stopped laughing, but didn't take the smile off her face, sighing. “I'm very clumsy with everything.”

“(Y/N), nobody asked you to learn all those things,” she said, with a more relaxed tone, glancing sideways at your clumsy sewing and reaching out a hand to pull the thread you hadn't sewn well. “You haven't tightened it enough, see? It's loose.”

“I don't know why I try,” you said defeated, leaving the piece of fabric on the coffee table, crossing your arms.

“It's not that hard, tesoro,” Donna whispered, caressing your cheek burning with blush. “I'm sure you'll learn.”

“I wouldn't say it loud…” you murmured, looking away. “How did you learn?”

“I… Well, I… I was taught by… My… My parents,” the lady in black stammered, moving away, her hand starting to shake. That was a bad sign, you had to fix it.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” you said nervously, calming that trembling with a gentle hand on hers. “I didn't mean to… You see? I'm clumsy even in talking.”

Donna smiled, shaking her head, calmed by your caresses, taking your hand and kissing it affectionately.

“I don't want a girl skilled in sewing or languages, (Y/N)…” she whispered, caressing your cheek, dissipating some of your frustration. “I want you.”

You laughed shyly, nervous about the sensations that a sudden kiss caused you, about how, without wanting it, it deepened even more, not feeling, not hearing anything but the sounds of your lips colliding.

You looked at each other and smiled. Yes, Donna was right, you might not be the most useful villager in the world, but you were the luckiest, lucky to be by her side.

The kisses continued, the caresses passed over your cheeks, over your body…

Donna leaned towards you, lowering her lips to your neck, kissing it so softly that it almost tickled you. She had no intention of stopping and that made you worry.

It had been months since you lived on the estate, but, you had never gone to the next level, you had never taken that step that you were supposed to take. Donna never insisted, but for some time now those kisses always ended the same way.

Her breathing became labored as her hands ran over your body, her lips altering the beating of your heart. You knew you had to let yourself go, to give yourself over to the love she wanted to give you, to do what two people who love each other were supposed to do.

But you couldn't, you just couldn't. Your clumsiness and shyness overwhelmed your senses. Your nerves made your body tremble as Donna manipulated it as she pleased, making your back rest on the couch while one of her hands ran over your leg, caressing your exposed skin.

You lost concentration, the slow and harmonious rhythm of those soft kisses, of the caresses that you clumsily made on her dress. Shame was always one of your greatest flaws, the fear of failure, the fear of not being enough, an irrational fear of loving fully and being loved.

When that mischievous hand slipped into your dress, gripping your thigh, when Donna gasped at the pleasure of brushing against your skin, you opened your eyes, quickly putting your hand on her wrist, stopping that inevitable rise.

“Do-Donna…” you murmured, stopping the kisses, the caresses, removing her hand from your leg. She looked at you confused, but didn’t resist. “D-don't continue, please…”

That kind of pitiful plea changed her expression. For a moment you seemed to see in her one eye the shadow of disappointment, a tired sigh at your shy attitude. It was only a second, her face relaxed as she pulled away, sitting back on the couch.

“I'm sorry,” she apologized, shaking her head, looking at you, biting her lip in frustration, but respecting, as always, your decision.

“No, don't apologize, I…” you said quickly, putting a hand on her shoulder, relaxing your breathing. “I'm just not… I'm not ready.”

“When are you going to be ready?” she asked in a brusque, almost aggressive way, making you shrink in place, disappointed with yourself. Donna looked at you with a dark gleam in her eye, one that disappeared when she closed it, sighing regretfully. “I, I didn't mean that, I…”

“I don't know,” you murmured embarrassed, looking away. Another sigh left her lips, as if she was trying to calm herself down. “Donna, I'm sorry, it's just that I…”

“Okay, okay, it's okay,” she whispered, coming closer to you, cupping your face in her hands, with a more understanding look, but clearly forced. “Listen, amore mio, I don't… I don't want to pressure you.”

“I, I know,” you stammered, keeping her gaze, hating the sad gleam in her eye. “I just don't… I can't.”

“I would never hurt you, you know that, right?” the lady in black asked, with a soft tone, with her caresses soothing your ears. You nodded, closing your eyes, letting the softness of her skin calm your fears.

“Sure, it's just... It's just that...” you said, moving away, looking at the wooden floor, searching for a small shield for your words, for your shyness. “I, I'm so embarrassed.”

Donna smiled softly, tilting her head to look at you closely, surely wanting to find an explanation for your reluctance, for your lack of desire to undress and merge with her.

“Relax, tesoro... I'll wait,” she whispered, kissing your cheek with that same smile, causing the blush to be present on your face again. “We have a whole life to do it, don't we?”

You smiled and nodded, kissing her quickly on the lips, with the sound of the clock saying that once again, it was late.

“I should go to bed,” you said, slowly getting up from the couch. Donna followed you, with a confused, thoughtful look, gently grabbing your wrist.

“Um, hey, do you want, do you want to sleep in my room, with me?” she asked, like every night, like every damn night you refused to do it. Always out of shyness, out of fear, out of shame. You were so clumsy, so insecure that you even refused to share her bed.

You didn't know if it was because of the fear of the unknown, of another of her advances, or for something else, but you simply couldn't.

“Oh, Well…” you stammered, scratching the back of your neck, shaking your head.

“I don't have ulterior motives, tesoro, I just want to sleep next to you,” she said, taking your hands, with a sincere look. “I would like that very much, (Y/N).”

“Oh, I…” you hesitated, letting the fear speak for you. “I, I prefer to sleep upstairs if, if you don't mind… It's just that I… I, I move a lot in bed and…”

Donna sighed, nodding with a disappointed but understanding look, kissing you on the lips as a farewell.

“It's okay,” she whispered with a fake smile, kissing you again, slowly releasing your hand. “Sleep well, (Y/N)...” she said before turning and disappearing down the hall.

“Jeez...” you sighed, running a hand over your forehead, regretting your decision, but too shy to call her again, to get under the sheets with her, in every sense.

“Hey, you!” a shrill voice brought you out of your laments. Of course, Angie had to make an appearance. “You've left my Donna hot again. You're such a fool.”

You shook your head, your face red from that accusation.

“I, I don't...” you whispered, knowing that whatever you said was going to make sense, that the puppet wasn't going to stop making fun of you.

“Silly, silly! Donna is going to get tired of your closed legs, you fool,” she accused, making small mocking jumps around you.

You frowned and your stomach turned. That damn puppet had revealed a new fear to you, the fear of losing Donna because of your insecurities.

“Angie, vieni qui!” Donna called from the elevator hallway, sensing, not wrongly, that her doll was mocking you again.

“Fool,” she said simply, walking comically towards her owner, laughing with a sinister laugh.

Angie was right, you were a fool.

Fear, shame and shyness were beginning to take their toll on your relationship. Of course, Donna didn't want to give importance to your refusal to make love, or rather, she wanted to pretend that it wasn't important.

It didn't matter how much you loved her, how much deep down you wanted to do it. You couldn't, fear simply didn't let you act, it didn't let your mind free itself. It doesn’t let your body melt into a naked embrace, her kisses to take you far, far away from your fears.

The next day came like any other, after a lonely night, full of regrets, of apologies to Donna and to yourself. Being alone was counterproductive, your mind traveled through all the possibilities that your refusal to love could cause.

Angie said that Donna was tired of your attitude. You couldn't believe that irritating puppet, but deep down you knew that it was like that, that the patience of the lady in black could have a limit, to which you were beginning to be dangerously close.

But if that worried her, she certainly didn't show it. Kisses, caresses, silent and calm teas... Nothing had changed that day, everything was the same, her smile was still the same. Maybe your fears were completely unfounded, you didn't know. You were simply trying to see the bright side of giving in to her wishes, of being a normal couple, of playing under the sheets, of sleeping together, of stopping being... You.

“It's delicious,” you said with a shy smile when it was time for dinner, a romantic dinner, silent, lit by candlelight. Donna smiled pleased by your compliment, pouring some wine into your glass.

“Grazie, tesoro...” she whispered romantically, winking at you.

“You know what? I've been practicing while you were in the workshop,” you said proud of your work, showing her the piece of fabric you were practicing on. Donna extended her arm to look at it more closely. You loved when she was focused, when she was meticulous.

The nerves of knowing how it had gone made you accidentally bring your hand to your wine glass, innocently thinking that it was water. The red liquid went down your throat making it burn, causing you to cough and look disgusted.

“What are you doing?” Donna asked, running her fingers along the seams, watching you amused as you soothed the burn of the wine with water.

“I, I, I got the wrong glass,” you said, blinking at the sensation of the alcohol burning your stomach. You had never drank that fast.

Donna laughed amused, shaking her head and handing the piece of cloth back to you.

“You’ve improved a lot, (Y/N),” she commented, elegantly drinking from her glass. You shrugged, finishing your dinner, hiding your blush as best you could.

Your cheeks burned, but you weren’t so embarrassed. For some reason, you began to relax, to feel good, to notice a strange glow on your skin and to look at the bottle of wine with desire.

“Can I have some more?” you asked automatically, extending the empty glass towards Donna, who frowned, but obeyed your request.

“Haven't you had enough?” she asked, putting the bottle back on the table while you, without thinking, brought the glass to your lips again.

“I'm thirsty,” you said with a mocking tone, one you had never dared to have. The wine went down your throat, that time in a pleasant way.

The heat of your cheeks increased and the sensation of feeling freed from your fears began to be present in that romantic dinner.

“You are beautiful, Donna,” you whispered, resting your head on your hands. She looked at you confused, but smiled blushing, with a tender gesture.

“Wow, thanks, (Y/N),” she murmured arching her eyebrow, looking at you with curiosity. “It's not true.”

“Come on…” you said amused, dismissing it with your hand, tilting your head to look at her, to observe her closely, to remind yourself over and over again that you loved her. “Look at you… You have a beautiful eye and… Oh, well, it's the only one you have but… It's beautiful and… I don't need you to have two because one is enough and… You, your hair, it's soft and… I, I better shut up,” you stammered, surprised by your own words.

Donna laughed in surprise, sipping from her glass and getting up from the table, surely alerted by your erratic attitude. Walking slowly towards you, she lifted your chin with a finger, noticing the strange shine in your eyes and your delirious smile.

“Are you okay?” she asked cautiously, glancing at your second empty glass.

“Better than ever,” you said hiccupping, deducing you had drunk a little more than you should have but that… Mysteriously, you were fine, safe, confident.

“Mm,” she murmured, with a distrustful look. “Do you want us to do something, tesoro? Yesterday I bought some new movies from the Duke, if you want, we can…”

“No, no, no,” you interrupted, startling her and getting up clumsily from the chair, noticing how a terrible but bearable dizziness fell mercilessly on you, making you stumble and land in the arms of the brunette, who laughed confused.

“(Y/N)…” she said amused. “Are you drunk?” she asked, holding you while you, keeping your balance, shook your head.

“No, I’m not,” you said with an exaggerated expression. “ I'm just a bit… Happy, I think.”

Donna laughed again, surprised by your words lacking tremors and insecurities, but worried that you were lying.

“Okay…” she said distrustfully, grabbing you by the waist, something that, surprisingly, you didn’t stop her from doing. “What do you want to do then?”

“Mmm,” you murmured thoughtfully as she held your body with a slightly sinister smile, surely amused by your condition. “We can read together.”

“Will you be able to see the words?” Donna joked, guiding you to sit on the sofa next to her.

You nodded profusely, leaning against her warm body, letting her perfume intoxicate you even more.

Donna read and you tried to do so, nervous but determined, with a strange confidence running through your thoughts, wanting to say, to do something different than being silent.

Her caresses on your hair were comforting, her calm breathing passed through her chest as you leaned on it. You would be more comfortable if a horrible heat wasn't torturing you, forcing you to unbutton your dress, leaving more skin than you should, exposed.

Donna glanced at you out of the corner of her eye and her mouth raised mischievously. You noticed that gesture and brought a finger to her cheek, caressing it teasingly.

“What were you looking at, darling?” you asked in a velvety voice, purring, making Donna frown.

“I was looking at you, tesoro,” she said indifferently.

Your response was a loud evil laugh, attracting her attention again, moving to, in an act unthinkable for the shy (Y/N), rest your head on her lap, looking at her from below.

“How do you say lie in Italian?” you asked in a provocative whisper, biting your lip, settling on her lap. She looked at you curiously, closing the book you weren't reading, sketching a mischievous smile.

“Bugia,” she answered, running her hand through your heat-messed hair, looking at you with the same curiosity as during that dinner

“Well, that's it... Buria,” you said amused, moving your hands erratically towards the brunette's dress, running your fingers through its buttons. Donna laughed again, shaking her head.

“Bugia...” she corrected, playing with your hands so they would stop moving aimlessly.

“That's what I said, right?” you said with a frown.

She shook her head, leaning down to kiss you tenderly, also settling into that intimate position.

“Why did you want to know?” she asked, sighing, enjoying one of those rare moments, that romantic and close contact you always refused to give her because of your fears.

“Because you were lying…” you whispered mischievously, moving on her lap, pointing at her shamelessly with your finger, with a mocking tone. “You weren't looking at me.”

“Wasn’t I?” she joked, still smiling, amused by your behavior, by that brave and confident behavior that an accidental intake of wine gave you. “Well, what do you think I was looking at?”

You smiled, shifting in your position shyly, pointing at your cleavage.

“You were looking at my breasts… Don't try to deny it, Donna,” you said amused, with a sinister smile.

Donna opened her mouth to answer, but she didn't, she simply laughed embarrassed.

“Come on…” you whispered, giving a soft blow to her chest. “Confess…”

“(Y/N),” she said confused, studying your attitude again, watching how your hand gently caressed the exposed skin of your chest, making her look away quickly so you wouldn't notice. Late.

“Yes, I was looking at your… Your breasts,” she whispered with a broken voice, with a different sparkle in her eye.

“Do you like them?” you asked, blushing, but brave, fearful but determined. Blessed wine.

“Of course I like them, tesoro…” she murmured, clearing her throat, knowing that she could be a little more direct, understanding that your slight state of intoxication could be an advantage for her. “I like everything about you.”

“Do you want to see them?” you asked with a soft tone, with a childish smile, playing with the buttons that kept your modesty intact, for the moment. Donna opened her mouth again, but regretted the answer she could give, shaking her head.

“Um… I…” she stammered, shifting uncomfortably on the couch, hiding, without success, her own blush.

“Touch them, maybe? Come on, I'll let you do it...” you offered amused, taking her helpless hand, taking it to your chest, making it pass through your exposed skin, through your covered breasts.

“(Y/N), I...” she murmured confused, but distracted by the softness of your skin, unable to control the instinct to put her hand under your dress to caress one of your bare breasts while she gasped in pleasure, biting her lip.

“Mm... Your hands are soft,” you said with an angelic smile, while Donna continued with her caresses on your skin, exploring those corners unknown to her.

“You are so... Beautiful...” she whispered, playing with one of your nipples, observing your reaction, which only transmitted pleasure, comfort. “Doesn't it bother you?”

“No…” you gasped as her grip tightened, as her gaze darkened without you noticing, subtly undoing the buttons that kept the view of your torso out of her reach.

“Come,” she said, pushing you away from her lap as a cold breeze told you that you had lost those buttons, that your body was partially exposed and that… That turned you on.

Donna guided you onto her lap, so your legs rested on either side of her body as her hands ran down your bare back, as kisses began to touch your neck, making you gasp.

“What are you waiting for? Kiss me, now, Donna,” you joked, leaning towards her lips, taking her away from the work she was doing on your neck, from the soft scratches on your back. She smiled and sighed, studying the situation, checking that your gaze remained partially serene, that she wasn't going to do anything that you weren't aware of.

Yes, you were aware, but you couldn't deny that it was because of the wine, that the desire to love had reached your body through a slight intoxication. You didn't care. You liked the feeling of having her under your body, of feeling her hips moving while her lips devoured yours.

Your hands rested around her neck as you followed the rhythm of those wild kisses, of those hands that grabbed your skin, that enjoyed your bare legs, the pleasure of your uninhibitedness.

“I like it…” you purred comfortable in that sea of ​​kisses, of caresses, moving your body to keep pace with hers. She looked at you with a smile, nodding pleased as one of her hands began a path that always had an end, the upward path up your legs.

“You like it? I'm glad to hear it,” she whispered with a sensual voice, speaking in your ear, kissing you, biting you to distract you from her caresses closer and closer to the limit of your legs, closer and closer to the heat that now resided between them.

“Mm…” you moaned, pleased by that touch, by those wild and improvised kisses. Your hand didn’t move, your body didn’t contract at the touch of her fingers on your underwear, unconsciously wet. It was a terribly pleasurable sensation, completely new to you.

Donna sighed at being able to feel that part of your body, at feeling the desire you had for her to do it, that burning passion she didn't expect to get from you.

“Madonna… Sei così bagnata…” she whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe while her hand invaded your underwear, slipping in around the edges, gently feeling your desire, caressing your wetness slowly, without losing the rhythm of the kisses, of her eager hips.

You laughed, shaking your head, squinting to try to understand her words, something you couldn't do. Her smile spread when her fingers began to play with your clit, causing a high-pitched moan from you, but nothing like fear or shame.

“I don't know what you said, but keep going,” you joked, putting a finger on her nose while your body moved to the rhythm of her touch, of her caresses.

She laughed on your lips, gripping you firmly with her free hand, squeezing, feeling everything she couldn't do when sobriety brought your fear to light.

But, as if fate played a cruel joke on you, a terrible dream loomed over your head, the dizziness worsened, eclipsing much of the pleasure caused by her mischievous, soaked fingers, playing very close to your entrance.

A loud yawn replaced your erratic moans, your body collapsed on top of hers, gathered by her firm arms, with a gasp of surprise.

“Tesoro...” the lady in black sighed as you snuggled into the comfort of her chest, closing your eyes.

“I'm a bit sleepy,” you murmured, now free from those lascivious caresses, thinking only of sleeping, only of letting yourself be carried away by that sweet perfume, by the warmth and comfort of her body.

Donna sighed again, confused and frustrated, but she put her questions and complaints aside to gently stroke your head, relaxing her breathing.

“It's okay, amore mio…” she whispered in a soft voice, losing that erotic, sensual tone, to change it for a comprehensive, affectionate one. “I love you, (Y/N).”

You smiled at that statement, sighing comfortably, rubbing yourself against her chest.

“I… love you…” you said with a sleepy, weak voice. Donna moved you away, taking your face in her hands, looking at you with some concern.

“Come, let's take you to bed,” she said in a tender tone, lifting you from the couch while you rubbed your eyes, with a sad look.

“To your bed?” you asked sleepily. Donna stopped as she helped you walk, thoughtful. “I want to go to your bed…”

“Is that what you want? Do you want to sleep next to me?” she asked in a serious tone, studying the shine of your eyes, looking for the lie in your gaze. She couldn't find it, drunks don't lie.

“Yes…” you sighed, letting yourself fall on her body again, held by her arms. “But I want my pajamas… I can't sleep without pajamas…” you stammered, letting tiredness make you say those silly things.

Donna nodded, helping you sit back down on an armchair, checking your condition for the umpteenth time.

“Okay, tesoro, wait, wait here and I'll bring it to you, okay?” she said kindly, caressing your cheek. You took her hand, kissing it comically before you lost sight of her.

“What a show!” Angie shouted, appearing just to bother you, climbing onto your lap. “Go home, silly, you’re drunk.”

“Leave me alone,” you said with a childish pout, slapping your hands in the air to free yourself from the doll, who was laughing amusedly.

“Come on…” Donna whispered after a moment of you struggling not to fall asleep, gently tugging on your hand to help you up.

“Carry me, Donna… Please…” you said rubbing your eyes. Donna smiled, blinking in confusion and looked at the doll, who shrugged.

“What a fool…” the doll sighed, walking through the dining room while Donna complied with your wishes, maneuvering the clothes in her hand and picking you up in her arms. She was certainly a Lord. She could carry you with barely any effort.

“You're like my savior…” you whispered, holding onto her neck as she laughed amusedly, walking with you towards the elevator.

“No, you're mine,” she whispered affectionately.

That night you slept… Too well. Donna was considerate of you, kind, helping you undress, laying you down on the bed and, after a tender kiss on the forehead, covering you with the sheets after a tired sigh.

“Sleep well, principessa…”

That was the last thing you heard.

The next day started differently. Your head hurt, your body felt weak, but Donna's body hugging your waist was all you could ask for. At that moment you regretted not having agreed to share the bed sooner. It was a terribly romantic feeling.

Neither of you mentioned what had happened that night. You, of course, were terribly embarrassed but not enough to regret it. You wanted to do it, you needed to do it. It was fear and shyness that prevented you from doing so. There wasn't much time to talk about it either, as it was the day of the visit to the castle, of a quiet tea with her sister Alcina, and her daughters...

You weren't particularly keen on going near that place, the Lady and her offspring terrified you, although they seemed to have some kind of affection for you.

“Uno!” one of the Dimitrescu sisters said while you were playing a strange card game. Behind you, on some sofas, Donna and Alcina were chatting silently.

Perhaps you would have preferred to be there, and not with those three scandalous vampires, and Angie, of course.

“You're stupid, you still have two cards,” Daniela, her sister, protested, shaking her head. “Penalty for you.”

“Nonsense, I don't have two anymore, look,” Bela said, throwing back one of her cards, making the other two girls grunt.

“Come on, Donna's girlfriend, it's your turn,” Cassandra said, nudging you, drawing your attention from the tow women. You had heard your name. You knew they were talking about you.

“Of, of course,” you said, throwing a random card to the floor, infuriating Angie.

“What do you mean by four cards? Silly…” the doll protested, reluctantly picking up four cards from the pile, insulting you in a low voice.

“Mm, I feel sorry for you, dear…” you heard Alcina murmur with a soft laugh.

Donna murmured something, but she spoke so quietly that you couldn't hear it.

“Hey, silly! What are you looking at?” Angie snapped at you. You lowered your head, looking at the three sisters, who were determined to cheat, pretending that you didn't notice.

“Nothing…” you sighed, trying to stop listening to that conversation. Something you couldn't do.

“Don't tell me… how curious,” Lady Dimitrescu said, leaning back in the chair and looking at you out of the corner of her eye. You quickly looked away. “Maybe I can do something for you… Daniela!” she shrieked, drawing the attention of one of her daughters, who immediately stood up, dropping the cards she had hidden under her sleeves.

“Yes, mother,” she whispered obediently.

The lady in white gestured with her finger for her to approach the women. You followed her with your gaze.

“I'm going to win…” Bela said, rubbing her hands, in a mocking tone.

“Don't even dream about it,” her sister answered, throwing another card into the pile.

“Do you understand?” Alcina asked.

The girl nodded and returned to you, jumping comically.

“Well, well…” she said, dropping down beside you, shamelessly grabbing your shoulders, making you tremble in fear. “Hey, Donna's girlfriend, aren't you bored with this game?”

“N-No,” you stammered, with a fake smile. “It's, entertaining.”

“Bah… I'm sure you're bored of losing so much, it's normal, we're the queens of Uno,” the young Dimitrescu muttered, shaking you unpleasantly. “Besides, this is a game for children.”

“What are you talking about? Leave (Y/N) alone, Aunt Donna is going to get angry…” Cassandra whispered. She was the most… Sane… of them.

“Oh, I don't think so…” Daniela sighed mockingly. “Come on, let's play something different…”

The young vampire stood up towards a cupboard, from which she took out a bottle of wine and four small glasses.

“That again…” Angie muttered, crossing her arms indignantly.

“Let's play betting,” Daniela said, placing one of the glasses in front of each of you.

“No! Are you stupid? I was going to win…” Bela protested, throwing her remaining card into the pile.

“Shut up and do what I tell you,” Daniela said, pointing at you in a not-so-subtle way, and then at the lady in black with her head.

“Oh… Okay,” the girl said, calming down abruptly and sitting down again.

The game was simple. You just had to guess what number would come up on a dice. Whoever got it right, got away, whoever didn't, drank. Something similar to what you did with your friends in other times, much worse times.

“Drink!” the girls shouted, pointing at you mockingly. You didn't know how, but you did nothing but lose. The taste and the burning of the wine were present again in your throat.

“Everything okay, girls?” Alcina said, putting a hand on your shoulder with a sinister smile. You nodded effusively, licking the red liquid that was left on your lips.

“Yes, mother,” they said.

Angie had long since returned to her owner. It was not surprising, she couldn’t drink.

“Are you comfortable, dear? My daughters are not being unfair to you, are they?” the lady asked, with a soft tone, with a dark look, as if she were studying you.

“No, my… My lady,” you said, hiccupping involuntarily.

“Good…” she sighed, approaching the lady in black again, pointing at you, thinking that you had not noticed.

“You failed!” Cassandra rebuked you, refilling your glass. You shook your head, confused, not remembering that you had rolled the dice.

“What…? No…” you said with a frown nudging the young woman, feeling better, less scared, more… Confident, but not as much as the night before. That was the signal you had to stop drinking, the gradual disappearance of your shyness. “I don't want to play anymore, you're cheaters.”

The three of them gasped in unison, pretending to be offended while you stood up, sticking your tongue out at them with an evil smile.

“Tesoro, are you having fun?” Donna asked when you dropped down next to her, placing yourself between the two Ladies and leaning on her shoulder while nodding.

“Yes, but I don't think I'll be able to go home if I keep drinking,” you joked amused, much more aware of your actions than the other time, but with that confidence running through your body again. Smiling again, you kissed the lady in black, discreetly moving the fabric of her veil, leaving her confused.

“(Y/N)…” she protested, with a tone that betrayed a certain amusement. “My love, we are reunited.”

“Oh, don't be shy about me,” Alcina's soft voice said. There was something in her gaze that seemed suspicious to you, but you didn't give it any importance. “My dear, you liked art, didn't you?”

“Yes, very much, my lady,” you said with an enthusiastic voice, playing with the brunette's hand, which remained inert.

“Donna, why don't you show her the paintings I told you about?” the lady in white asked, studying your gestures on her sister's hand, the return of your erratic desire.

“Why don't you show them to me, my lady?” you asked with a sincere smile, making Donna pull her hand away, as if something you had said had bothered her.

Alcina laughed, rolling her eyes and pointing at her daughters, who began to fight fiercely, accusing each other of cheating.

“I have matters that need my attention, but I'm sure Donna will be a better guide than me, won't you, my dear?” she said in a husky voice, winking at the brunette, who stood up from the sofa, pulling your wrist roughly.

The two of you walked through the halls. You said absurd, funny things, trying to make Donna laugh. She didn't seem too happy, even rejecting your overly bold hand when you tried to join hers.

“Hey, what's wrong, Donna?” you asked, blinking in confusion, with the hot alcohol slowly disappearing from your head. Your confidence and lack of shyness didn’t fade.

“So you want my sister to show you the paintings,” she muttered furiously, turning suddenly.

“What?” you asked, holding back your laughter.

“What's wrong with you and alcohol? Do you become a cheeky girl? Does anything go when you've been drinking?”

“I-I don't know what you're talking about, Donna…” you whispered worriedly. She groaned, moving away from you.

“It was Alcina's idea,” she hissed. “I thought, I thought that if you drank some wine I… I could, we could do… You know, the same as yesterday.”

“Oh…” you sighed confused, unable to contain your laughter. “Did you get me drunk to take advantage of me? That's not right…” you hummed.

“I don't want to take advantage of you,” she said, with a brusque tone, coming closer again. “I just want, I want you to… Lose that absurd fear you have of sex,” she admitted, leaving you glued to the floor.

“By drinking,” you said, narrowing your eyes, finding that situation more and more exciting.

“Yes, I… I don't know how to make you understand that I don't want to hurt you, that I want, I want to make you feel good and you're always running away, always…”

You decided to interrupt her with a kiss, a passionate and unexpected one, removing the black fabric and grabbing her waist.

“I'm sorry, Donna… I'm very shy,” you said in a calmer tone.

“When are you going to understand that you have nothing to be ashamed of with me?” the lady protested, running away from your hold.

“Hey, I, I appreciate you trying to help me, really,” you whispered in a soft voice, with that evil laugh disappearing from your face.

“It hasn't helped,” she said, crossing her arms. “Instead of getting brave, you hit on my sister.”

You laughed again, shaking your head.

“Oh…” you said, approaching mischievously, grabbing the lady in black from behind. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” she said dryly, without moving from your grip.

“Oh, yes, yes you are,” you joked, tickling her waist, causing sudden movements and a nervous laugh from the brunette.

“Stop,” she said laughing, holding your arms so you wouldn't continue.

“Come on, Donna, you know I only love you…” you said with a more seductive tone, approaching slowly, running a finger along her dress. “Come, I'll show you.”

“What, what are you doing?” Donna asked, while you gently pushed her against the wall, with an idea in your mind, one that, if it weren't for the wine, you would never have dared to do.

“Shhh. Let me show you how daring I can be,” you said amused, aware that the effect of the wine was no longer guiding your actions.

But Donna didn't know that, and that gave you the confidence you lacked.

With an expectant gasp, you lowered yourself to the floor, kneeling, passing your hands under the black fabric of her dress. She became nervous, stopping you with both hands on your wrists.

“Stay still, what are you going to...?” she asked, stepping back when she saw your bright eyes, sighing and looking both ways.

With an amused laugh, you traveled under her dress, kissing her legs, caressing them. You didn't want to miss the opportunity to give Donna some pleasure, to show her that you could do it, that you wanted to do it.

“Hey, hey…”she protested when your lips began to kiss her skin, moving up her legs, hidden under her dress, with a clear intention, which none of her protests could avoid. “No…”

Her protests changed, they turned into moans when you got too close, when your lips kissed the wet fabric of her underwear and your fingers pulled its edges down.

“I think you want it…” you said amused, slowly kissing her wetness and enjoying the taste of her arousal. “Donna, you are delicious…”

“Shut up,” she scolded you, involuntarily moving her hips against you while your tongue sank into her folds, causing discreet moans from the lady.

You moaned from the pleasure of her reaction, from the fear you had of being discovered, from that new feeling of liberation, of the definitive loss of your fear.

Your tongue ran over her wet flesh, caressing it slowly, savoring every grunt, every moan it provoked. Your hand joined in that massage, remembering how she stimulated you the night before, repeating the same movements she did, now on her clit.

“Cazzo…” the brunette sighed, overwhelmed by your shamelessness, by your impure actions, unthinkable for you. “Keep, keep going…”

You smiled, speeding up your movements, enjoying her tremors, with her hand tangled in your hair, with her hips dancing to the sound of your kisses.

It didn't take much more time for the brunette to arch her body, for her excitement to soak your face, for her taste to be everything you felt, and wanted to feel.

“Get up, get up,” she said hastily, without having recovered from that orgasm, one that the shy and embarrassed (Y/N) gave her. “You're crazy.”

“Don't you like the new me?” you said, licking your lips, kissing her passionately, causing her to moan again.

She pushed you away and looked at you with her veil moved by passion, shaking her head.

“If it's just because of the wine, I would…”she murmured in a sad voice. You shook your head again.

“It's not because of the wine, Donna. There is no liquor more addictive than your kisses…”

[burningbee]

So this probably going to come out of left field for anyone who still follows this Tumblr, but my drawing career has kind of petered out and for the last year or so I've been writing romance novels.

I don't really plan on actually publishing them. I've only been putting them on ao3, but I've really enjoyed writing them and I'm kinda proud of my work.

And when I say they're romance novels, I mean fully XXX raunchy ass romance. It's not pure erotica, they have plot and character growth and FEELINGS, but also a lot of sex scenes and kinky shit on top of that. Bondage, femdom, edging, monsterfucker kink, to name a few.

The first one I wrote, and I'm almost done posting, is a slow burn werewolf story. Bare bones set up is: What if imprint but everyone hated it. Kind of enemies to lovers but on the milder side. It's a straight romance, and the man is a sad wet dog boy, absolutely a pathetic baby. The woman is a cheerful, smiling on the outside, dying on the inside type. There's lots of agnst and hurt/comfort and fanficy tropes.

The second one I'm working on and recently started posting is a faerie polyamory story (mmf) and more about messy people making messy mistakes. Also, when I say faerie, I don't mean hot men with pointy ears. My faerie boys are one big fat furry muscle himbo and a goblin twink. The woman is human and very much has ADHD.

I draw my characters often, and I'd like to be able to share my stories with anyone who would be interested. Does this sound interesting to anyone? The stuff I write is pretty irreverent and fun. I've been told it comes through that I enjoyed myself in the writing. I put a lot of queer characters in them and both of my female mains are fat.

TL, DR: I've written steamy romance fics with paranormal shit and fat characters. Would anyone be interested in me posting about them here?

[darkwitchingflower]

I've lost count but here's another "Sht my friends say as pjo characters" pt like 7???: Also side note sorry if I'm repeating these idr the last one i did lol:

Jason: I opened my glasses case and started panicking because I couldn't find my glasses... I'm literally wearing them

Leo: if I ever have a son ill take every chance to laugh at him

Reyna: Thalia the love magnet. She got b*tches (romantic) when all she wanted was b*tches (platonic) (Gojolover69, see last quotes post by @wraith--2)

Leo: so you're a ho*n't (same person above)

Piper: Stole scientific equipment and everything and we found out the smallest thing in the galaxy is the size of our patience because we gave up the search and stole a gazillion dollar dildo ( @wraith--2 )

Leo:....calculator

Reyna: You're a calculator

Leo: are you calling me smart?

Reyna: no I'm calling you a tool

(I'm Leo and @thatonelazyghost is Reyna here)

Piper: Coach keeps going on about ppl who aren't in and he's like and then there's Annabeth who's broken her ankle ( @wraith--2 )

Will: I'm gay, I have the spidey sense for rainbow things ( @indecisivenb)

Nico: it's not gay if it's from behind

Nico: I'm ready to leave now

Nico: like I'm done

Nico: too peopley

Nico: nvm coach gave me a maulteaser

(Me on my last day of college)

Annabeth: You absolute bean of a human

Piper: Hi its me, Percy, a twink! ( @thatonelazyghost)

Leo: I put Frank down because he's lactose intolerant (me)

Leo: dismember my body and stick me in a lightning McQueen coffin ( @wraith--2 )

Nico: what's your sexuality

Ghost swings it back and forth*

Nico writing down bi: Ah you swing both ways ( @wraith--2 )

Reyna about Leo: DAM bros balls didn't drop

Leo: ...and the tip was empty

Mr D about Connor and Travis: ITS THE F*CKING TWINS!!! WANNA KNOW HOW I KNOW THAT?! THAT GUY HAD THE F*CKING ZOOMIES HE HAD PLACES TO GO AND PEOPLE TO SEE

Nico: is anyone gonna pay attention to the fact Leo's dead?

Leo: THANK YOU!

Nico: You're dead shut up

(Nico is @thatonelazyghost and I'm Leo here)

Luke: I'm no p*ssy ill skin my victims infront of the lifeguard ( @wraith--2 )

Leo: like do you moan daddy, mammy or parental???

Playing stardew valley*

Nico: I love Willy

Everyone dies*

Percy: I love cream in my mouth! (Ider the context for this I just know the sake friend said the quote above this one too so it may be smth to do with that idr)

Leo: I don't need a psychiatrist I- ( @duckbakery)

Piper: you need God (Gojolover69)

Playing DnD*

Leo: I also successfully charmed a woman at the bar, then Nico ( @duckbakery ) goes

"The woman leads you away"

Everyone else: "ohh wait hold on ooo whats going on, dayum"

Nico: "you come back 2 minutes later"

Everyone dying laughing

Nico: "you went into a private room but couldn't stop talking about pirate ships so she gave up"

Alex Fiero (I think that's their name? I haven't read Magnus yet): Oh so YOU'RE the gender goblin ( @thatonelazyghost )

Mr D: I'm literally the god of gender identity, furries and monsters

Piper: I want someone to yippee on my body ( @thatonelazyghost )

Leo: Leo you should know better its because of your feminism you f*cking freak

Annabeth: Freaky feminists have got to be my favourite breed of gender (she was totally talking about Thalia here) ( @wraith--2 )

Calypso: Leo always finishes early

Leo: ye I do- WAIT WHAT?! ? ( @duckbakery )

Playing stardew*

Piper: LEOS A WOMAN

Piper: OMG HIS NAMES EMO-LY

(Me about another friend)

(Pic of character at end of post)

Nico: do you have any food?

Hades: Nope ( @duckbakery )

Nico: guess I'll die then

Thalia: I have a dead cat in my shed

Hazel: OMG PICS

Thalia: Read that again

Hazel: OH OH NO OH NO OH NOOOOOOOO I DIDNT SEE THE WORD DEAD

(I was Hazel here)

Rachel: I do other stuff than being ginger ( @duckbakery )

Percy: If you don't sleep rn im gonna call you tickle tipsin

Annabeth: ... what ( @duckbakery )

Nico: call me what now (me)

Percy: it's from the "it's been a year daddy" video you freaky f*cks

Nico: it's a beautiful day outside... f*ck- (GojoLover69)

Playing stardew valley*

Piper: annabeth ya know he likes pickles right?

Me: ya

Hazel: who like pickles?

Piper: Harvey

Hazel: divorse him!

Piper: ye he clearly likes men

(I'm annabeth and @duckbakery is piper here)

(The text was sent too early)

Percy: sorry I'm late I got blown

Percy: into smithereens

( @duckbakery )

Percy: This is more zesty than Piper and that's saying something ( @wraith--2 )

Leo to Jason: F*cking senile b*tch

Jason: I'm older and wiser except I'm not smart ( @duckbakery)

Piper: forget the fact I split a gay man in half in the gc ( @wraith--2 )

Coach Hedge to frank: why did you feel the need to @everyone about percy and annabeth getting 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 ( @thatonelazyghost )

Annabeth: oooh eloquent 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 ( @wraith--2 )

Reyna: Perchance you can suck my d*ck ( @wraith--2 )

Leo: Perchance you can commit tax fraud with me (Gojolover69)

Piper: Perchance we can stab ppl together ( @wraith--2 )

Percy: Perchance. Get on the f*cking boat and let's hunt 😈 (Gojolover69)

Rachel: perchance 7 half bloods shall answer the call to storm or fire the world perchance must fall with an oath to keep with a final breath perchance as foes bear arms to the doors of death perchnace (me)

Nico to will: Perchance you and me should fall into tartarus ( @wraith--2 )

Thalia: perchance we should all hug and kiss in a platonic way ( @thatonelazyghost )

Reyna: Perchance that is an excellent suggestion (Gojolover69)

Reyna: Perchance I shall kiss Thalia completely platonically ( @wraith--2 )

Percy: perchance that platonically is bs (me)

Reyna: Lies I'm off at sea and don't see Thalia every morning ( @wraith--2 )

Percy: i know for sure you've found a way regardless ( @thatonelazyghost )

Reyna: I feel like this is bullying ( @wraith--2 )

Leo: guys we need to do among us in real life ( @duckbakery )

Annabeth: That's already a game Leo, it's called mafia ( @thatonelazyghost )

Percy: I see you've grown a brain can you share (friend from work)

Thalia: the need to refer to eachother as "love", "dear" and "pookie" is strong but the aro is stronger ( @thatonelazyghost )

Piper: this whole group is secretly but not very secretly a big polyamorous relationship ( @thatonelazyghost )

Reyna: So glad the sex aversion in me is strong cause imagine the stds going round this place my God ( @wraith--2 )

Annabeth: i'm iconic i'm quotable and i'm autistic ( @thatonelazyghost )

Leo: Are you a heinz baked beans, extra rich tomato sauce-sexual? (Gojolover69)

Percy: So my mam booked me and my sister a swimming lane for tmr morning, and I'm like oh dear God mother, u do know I'm currently blasting liquid magma from my a*s, which travels at super sonic speeds, do you reckon this is safe for public health? (Gojolover69)

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME BALDUR'S GATE 3 / PART TWO

we were running for our lives.

you led them straight to us.

ah, backstabbing. feels just like home.

this woman saved your pathetic life.

anything to save yourself, you coward.

arrogant prick had it out for me from day one.

coming back to this hellhole was a mistake.

i'd rather face another round of goblins than stay in this pit.

whatever your business, i'd see to it quickly.

you're brave to walk around without hiding your heritage.

we've known enough grief this tenday.

saw you fighting those slimy bastards.

it ain't much, but it might make a difference.

you'll need every bit of strength, trust me.

there isn't a bit of color in those cheeks.

even on a good day, half the camp acts like a bunch of screaming brats.

i'm tempted to smack them all on the backside.

you aren't gonna shoot me — your hands are shaking.

you're better than this.

those words could be your last.

i can't do it, i'm not like you.

i don't need you to be like me.

could just be good luck, but sooner or later it's bound to run out.

lives are at stake and the cowards only care about their bloody rituals.

those dirt-kissers would let us die.

i'll go where i please.

rare and intriguing on a day already packed with intrigue.

there's no overstating my disinterest.

i was concentrating on not dying.

you've proven your authority, now prove your mercy.

let's just clear the air about that now.

it's just an old wound that hurts me from time to time.

it's just something i have to live with.

what is youth if not a time to be forgiven for one's transgressions.

putting a child on display like that was monstrous.

she wasn't innocent, but that doesn't mean she was guilty.

our hospitality have its limits and they were crossed long ago.

you seem like a good soul.

you deserve a chance to save yourself.

you can't cure what you don't understand.

doubt we'll be safe here for long.

he's back with his tail between his legs.

you're the first bit of good faith we've had.

his confidence is an asset.

i thought we had something special.

i'll spend my evenings lounging here while you do all the hard work.

be wary of false promises.

more riddles from my resident jester.

i speak only what requires telling.

finally, some good fortune.

this could be our last night together.

we could find somewhere discreet right now.

brambles on bare skin aren't as fun in practice.

i can't afford to tire you out.

will this little adventure of ours be over?

will you miss me?

you've been to hells and back.

i'm not easily impressed by people, but you're stronger than i gave you credit for.

i am pretty impressive.

i was leagues away.

i just need to get some air, clear my head.

the moonlight shines warmly on us.

do you think me so sheltered?

something's special about us.

i'll not gamble our lives on people who are as good as dead.

if something happens to these people, it's on us.

i suggest you do as she says.

the last time a subordinate questioned my judgement, i ate tongue stew that very night.

you ought to reconsider keeping her around, before she causes real trouble.

if you've finished scowling at me, what comes next?

you ever scare me like that again, and i'll feed you to a gnoll.

i don't make a habit of threatening children.

i'd thought one like you might understand.

when a threat makes itself known, you remove it.

you showed great mettle.

you will do more than speak.

this tale ends but one way.

[mad-bird-writes]

Introduction and Current WIPs

Hiya! My name is Echo (@tousled-birdmad-girl is my main for those who care about such things) and I'm a writer. I've been writing in some form or another since I was about ten years old, but only recently plucked up the gumption and drive to attempt anything original, much less put it out for the world to see. Time will tell how this goes...

I love horror, tho I wouldn't consider myself a "genre" author, as I think horror, surrealism, fantasy and magic can be found everywhere if you know where to look, and the presence of fantasy elements does not necessarily mean you're writing a "fantasy" book. So, we'll call what I do "fiction" and leave it at that for now :D

Inspiration-wise, I draw from the works of Stephen King, everything Mike Flanagan ever put to Netflix and beyond, Paul Shapera and his ever-growing Shaperaverse, Guillermo Del Toro, Chuck Palahniuk, and the Cthulhu Mythos as a whole (with a particular liking for taking the worlds, entities and themes first created by Lovecraft and using them to create something that'd make him spin in his grave.)

Below the cut: a list of my current WIPs and some general housekeeping information. If you see something that sparks your interest, please come sit by my hearth and pour yourself a drink <3

Original Works:

The Lost Souls' Revival: After a series of personal crises, struggling creative Amari Walker stumbles across a flyer advertising a strange carnival, offering "a total restoration of spirit" for the cryptic asking price of "3Y". With nothing left to lose, she attends, quickly becoming enthralled by the Revival and its colourful cast of performers, in particular its eccentric, nameless ringmaster. When her night of fun and escapism is over, she finds herself wanting more, and embarks on a one-woman quest to follow the ever-moving carnival wherever it goes, a quest that will drive her to the edge of sanity, and possibly beyond the reach of reality itself. (vibes: steampunk, dark carnival, mythology/folklore mishmash, fantasy horror, the Fair Folk, whatever the goblins were selling in Rosetti's Goblin Market)

Better To Reign In Hell: It's 1897. The world is changing too fast. Pastor Nathaniel Lawrence is dying, for all that he's trying to hide it. His daughter, Susannah, too old for rebellion and too young for spinsterhood, is content to follow in her mother's footsteps as the town's herbalist, but a bombshell marriage proposal seems set to destroy those plans. A chance encounter with a badly wounded man may offer her the escape she seeks, but at a price: Merritt Caine is not all he appears to be, and his dark past has an unbreakable grip. (vibes: southern gothic HEAVY on the gothic, small town horror, witchcraft (fictitious and real), Satanism (fictitious and real), corruption but in a good way, religious horror, the cycle of abuse, eventual murder (of the good kind) )

The Order of The Pallid Mask: In the corpse of a city at the centre of a dying world, a benevolent cult is working to restore their world to its fabled former glory by appealing to its retreated god, The King in Yellow. Sariann, the cult's High Priestess, is willing to sacrifice whatever she must to ensure a brighter future for the city's refugees; her body, her soul, her mind. Virgil, a lower-ranking member of the Order, her confidant, attendant and trusted friend, is willing to defy the Order and his faith to keep her alive. And the Yellow King has plans and desires of his own... (vibes: Cosmic horror, Lovecraftian but make it romantic, the beauty of the unknown, rituals, creating a religion from the ashes of an old world, post-apocalypse, ancient civilization (not of Earth), Eldritch love triangle) ***

Fan Works/Other:

As far as fanfics go, I don't have any long-form WIPs on the stove, more like a series of short (well, short-ish) form drabbles, headcanons and other assorted bits, which I might as well post here when I have them as proof that I do have a creative output that extends beyond Spotify playlists and Pinterest boards.

Fandoms include:

Fallout (mainly New Vegas and the Prime series so far, but encompassing this universe as a whole)

Red Dead Redemption (particularly the second game as I haven't played the first one yet, £35 for a port of a PS2 game my *ass*)

the Flanaverse (Hill House, Bly Manor, TFOTHOU, Midnight Mass... basically everything bar The Midnight Club, which I have not watched)

the Cthulhu Mythos (if you can call that a fandom :D I was working on a queer retelling of Dreams in the Witch-House at one point, if I can *find* the notes I wrote I might bring that one out of retirement...)

plus one or two fandoms the content crucibles of which I would not subject myself to if you held me at gunpoint (iykyk)

I've also amassed a small collection of OCs from various TTRPGs I've been part of, a couple of whom still haunt my mind and may or may not be written about from time to time... (no DnD tho, I think it's safe to say we've reached saturation point with DnD-centric/derivative works) ;)

***

General housekeeping + other info: I am an adult and this is an adult writing blog by default. I will be writing smut/other sexual content and dealing with mature and dark themes throughout these listed works (and anything else I may write to post here.) I will tag for "main" triggers and give general content warnings where applicable, but I cannot guarantee to cover every single trigger a person may have, therefore, you read and interact here at your own risk. If requested, I will add more trigger warnings, but again, I can't fully guarantee to get everything.

I kindly ask that you refrain from reposting anything from this blog: excerpts, character profiles, moodboards (if I make them) etc. I also ask that you do not take anything for your personal use under any circumstances.

My inbox is open, so send me an ask if you have any questions or simply want to chat! But for now, I've rambled for quite long enough, so I'm gonna wrap this post here. See you! <3

(tagging @coffeexafterxmidnight and @dominaarts )

[isolde-illustrates]

Young Bronte

I wanted to draw Bronte as a child, so I drew him with his father. The clothing is based off medieval Europe since elves have accents close to British, and the father has a simplified version of the family crest of Bronte since his last name has not been revealed.

The actual pose and emotions are based off the idea that Bronte was the first inflictor. In this idea, tw: death, he manifested his ability when he accidentally sent out emotions against his mother, who was an empath. Not only did she feel the emotions Bronte sent out, but also her husband's, and then the fear coming from Bronte afterwards. This caused the woman's mind to fracture and split while she simultaneously began to go numb as her body's coping mechanism to the flood of emotions kicked in. Similar to how snakes cannot control how much venom they release when they are very young, inflictors cannot control how much of their emotions they give out, making doses unpredictable. In this instance, Bronte let out all of his inflicting, causing his mother's mind to splinter. She was seeming to recover for a couple of days, although her emotions were shut off, but after about a week or so, her mind completely lost its grasp, and Bronte's mother had a broken mind.

His father shut up himself and the boy in their house, trying to process the event while also taken care of his wife. He had acted as a knight in the war between the species (before the treaties but after Fallon's establishment of the elven claims to certain lands). More reinforcements were required, and the elves required more knights to return to the battle. They also wanted to train up the young children into skilled warriors, using some of the few with special abilities to be the top warriors.

After some debate, his father was able to keep Bronte from the track of kids trained at Exilium for the front lines, giving his son up and the knowledge of his ability in hopes that Foxfire, the school of special abilities, would bring his son to one of the leader roles instead of a knight one. At the time, the schools were boarding schools, so Bronte's father told him goodbye for the last time before going to the front of the war and dying. Less than a year later, the Council created the Peace Treaties with the humans, goblins, trolls, gnomes, and ogres.

I felt like giving Bronte a little tragic backstory while also drawing him as a little kid. This is why he could not inflict positive emotions, had known for a while that elves can die, and was so desperate to keep Sophie from being a weapon that could be used against the Lost Cities (cause he had been meant as one to protect them). He also would totally have the memories of that week stored in his cache.

Sophie, during her inflicting session: Can we look at your cache? Can we? Can we?

Bronte: What? No!

Sophie: If I get the next lesson first try, can we?

Sophie, after excelling the first time: You never said you would not, so I want to see that memory. *points to one that is red* Cause it's the color of this ability!

Sophie, after watching how Bronte discovered his ability: Yeahh, next time, I'm gonna let you pick. That movie was a total downer.

[hils79]

Hils Watches Goblin - Ep 2

I really hope this is a real sign that they just have in Canada. Can any Canadians confirm? Are fairy sighting signs a real thing?

I really hope this is also a thing

I mean in Quebec it's probably more likely to be French but this still made me laugh

I love her

Oh my god I am obsessed with that top the Grim Reaper is wearing. Did someone have to lace him into that like a corset?

I don't think it's unreasonable for the goblin to have a bride and also a groom

Ooh is the spinach cursed? I love that people just keep randomly giving her vegetables

I definitely haven't been standing here for ages waiting for you to walk past. He's such a dork I love him.

He does wear some excellent knitwear in this

Is everyone in this bisexual? Eun Tak was totally checking out the hot lady

Proposed to a man at the start of the episode. Hit on a woman halfway through the episode. Good for her!

HAHA! Interrupted her betrothed's dinner to tell him about her hot new boss

I cannot with how cute he is. Totally stealing every scene he's in

I was expecting him to be all dark and brooding and angsty and instead he's...this

Oh my god

The poor grim reaper just wants to sleep in his nice comfy bed instead of dealing with this nonsense

HAHAH! Oh my god I'm dying. There should be a whole sitcom about these two living together

They really need to kiss though

I am obsessed with her cute little work outfit

Doesn't say anything about the same sex though 😏

Oh she's actually older than I thought

It's about to get awkward when he has to explain that the grim reaper is his housemate

Aww this poor girl. She has no idea about all the outfit changes and props he's been through to try and impress her.

I love him

I love her getting all the info she needs from the local ghosts

Oh those dudes are going to regret kidnapping her very soon I think

AHHHHHHH! They both came to save her! OT3! OT3!

[blackjackkent]

OK, I believe Rakha has fully explored Moonrise's first floor, which means it's time to go upstairs and talk to Z'rell.

[gets popcorn]

(BEEP. This post has recommended pre-reading regarding my headcanons about Rakha and Z'rell's history. TLDR in Rakha's worldstate, Z'rell is also memory-wiped in addition to being brainwashed by the Absolutists, and is actually Rakha's twin sister.)

"General Thorm's prayers and preparations must not be disturbed," the Absolutist Disciple is saying as Rakha crests the stairs. "The rooftop is off-limits to everyone."

"Even you, Disciple Z'rell?" asks one of the guards.

"Everyone," Z'rell answers crisply. "Keep watch and ensure that nobody passes." She turns her head sharply, fixing her gaze on Rakha. "Excellent timing, True Soul."

She takes a sharp step forward and stares Rakha down. Her expression is hard to read; her lip has curled with disdain, but her eyes are lit with sudden eagerness. And there is that unsettling familiarity to her face that Rakha cannot place, something that reaches back into the shrouded blank places in her memory.

"The goblins," Z'rell hisses. "Tell me how they suffered. No-- better yet. Show me."

Narrator: Her mind enters yours abruptly, flickering across your memories in a blaze of excitement. Tongues of psychic flame lap at the memory of the goblins dying by your hand.

Z'rell smirks. "I see you like to handle underlings physically," she says, a slow drawl - mocking, playful. It might seem like flirtation if it wasn't so obviously a threat. "So do I."

(A/N: It's a good thing I already decided Z'rell also doesn't remember Rakha, or some of these lines would be WAY creepier than they already are. >.< )

Rakha groans softly as the other woman's mind withdraws from hers. She has already learned something important in climbing up here - Ketheric is behind the giant doors these people are guarding. When she is ready to kill him, this is where she will come. But this knowledge came at the cost of having her mind played with like a toy by this woman who looks at her with casual animosity - and with glee at the images of the goblins she slaughtered.

On the other hand, perhaps she is lucky that those images are all that Z'rell was interested in. She is trying to pretend to be a loyal follower, and there are many memories Z'rell could have picked which would shatter that illusion apart in an instant.

"A waste of my time," she says coolly, hoping to evade as much of this conversation as possible. "I didn't come here to clean up other people's mistakes."

Z'rell answers her with a cold smirk, unimpressed by the attempt at bravado. "Your confidence is delicious," she says sardonically. "I can see why the Absolute might be hungry to dig deeper into that mind of yours. I certainly am."

(A/N: In the general run of things these lines are definitely intended to be villain-flirtatious; the next narrator line in particular is full of innuendo. But for the purposes of Rakha's story specifically, I'm choosing to interpret all of this as dripping with sarcasm.

I decided in the aforementioned headcanon post that prior to their respective memory wipes, Rakha was absolutely the dominant one of the two of them and Z'rell got stuck in her shadow and hated it. Still waiting to figure out exactly how they both ended up mindwiped and Z'rell ended up working for Ketheric while Rakha was packed off into a nautiloid. But it's certain that Z'rell doesn't like Rakha, without even know why she feels that way so instinctively. And all of this is, in this case, just a deliberate power play - Z'rell wants Rakha to know right off the bat that she is in charge.)

Narrator: She parts the folds of your mind again, touching your wants and hopes. Tasting them. Every emotion soaks into her mind's palate, but there is purpose to her exploration - she is searching for proof of your faith.

Rakha shudders uncomfortably. Z'rell pushes through the fragile stability of her mind, laying claim to it. But the faith she looks for is nowhere to be found; Rakha follows no god, least of all the Absolute.

It would be easy enough to simply lash out. Leaving aside the beast's bloodthirst, she dislikes this woman on her own terms as well - an instinctive, indignant revolt against Z'rell's authority over her. But she can't, because they need to know what she knows. They can't tear this place apart until they have the secret to Ketheric's invulnerability, so she can complete the kill she wants above all the others.

So she grits her teeth and plays along.

[DECEPTION] Fake it - fill your mind with love for the Absolute.

(A/N: Rakha does not gravitate towards deception checks as a general rule, but every other option here either led to combat or was even less Rakha-ish, particularly the one where she could "distract her with thoughts of [her] sweet moments with Wyll", which Rakha would rather die than deliberately share with this woman.)

She has no experience with faith, no idea how it works. What she conjures instead, in a flood against Z'rell's incursion, is every bit of warmth and calm and safety she felt the night Wyll kissed her. It is the only love she knows.

It's enough. Z'rell sees what she wants to see.

Narrator: There is a tremor of shared ecstasy as she finds a mirror to her own desire.

"Perfect," Z'rell murmurs. "You crave what all True Souls should - to be touched by the Absolute." She steps forward again, closer, arms spread slightly. "I have already been blessed to stand in Her presence. It was bliss..."

She smiles slowly, languorously, mockingly. "She gave me *everything* I wanted."

"Everything?" Rakha rasps. She feels deeply uncomfortable, and deeply relieved that Z'rell seems to have withdrawn back out of her mind, at least for the time being. It is hard to remain focused on her own purpose and maintain control of the beast with the other woman's mocking eyes looking through her, pulling her apart. "What exactly do you want?"

"To take without asking," Z'rell says sharply. "To feel without doubting. And to kill without consequence. In a word - freedom." There is cold, confident satisfaction laced through each word.

"Freedom?" Rakha asks. Her voice has tightened a little as she tries not to show the eagerness with which the beast jumps at the idea of killing without consequence. "Your only purpose is to serve Ketheric and the Absolute."

Z'rell stiffens. "I choose to serve," she snarls, "and I am glad to. Your words are dangerously close to heresy, True Soul." She spits the title like a curse.

Rakha has the odd sense, suddenly, that she is following a script. That this is a conversation, an argument, that she has had with this woman a thousand times before, though she does not remember. "My words were a test of faith," she says icily. "I too am glad to serve." The words emerge smoothly this time, as if in whatever scene she is re-enacting, they were not a lie.

Z'rell relaxes slightly. There is a flicker of confusion in her gaze too, as if she too has recognized something odd about this conversation that she can't place. "As you should be," she says firmly. "And you have an opportunity to impress General Thorm. I have a mission for you."

Rakha goes still. This strange personality clash immediately fades in importance. Yes. This is what she came up here for. Any opportunity that will get her closer to Thorm, or might get him to let his guard down.

"There is a relic that General Thorm requires," Z'rell goes on. "He sent his most trusted advisor, Disciple Balthazar, to retrieve it. The relic is beneath the Thorm family mausoleum; that is where you will find Balthazar. But we have lost contact with him. Go there, aid Balthazar if you can, and bring the relic home."

Balthazar. She heard that name from the Warden downstairs. A man of authority - higher than Z'rell and only just below Thorm. Rakha immediately presses for more information. "What exactly was this relic he was sent to retrieve?"

"It is something that General Thorm requires, and that he has ordered us to retrieve," Z'rell answers crisply. "That is all you need to know."

"What if Balthazar's dead?"

"Death would not silence Balthazar for long. But dead or alive, he is lost. Whatever has become of him, it is the relic that matters."

"You said you lost contact. What do you mean?"

"An eye accompanied him. It was destroyed shortly after he left Moonrise. Hardly a surprise. We are protected here, but outside, the shadows are hungry."

[kyndaris]

Legends and Lattes

While you, dear reader, may initially think this post is about Travis Baldree's novel of the same name, I am here to quickly disabuse you of that notion. In fact, I shall do you one better and admit I have yet to even read the book sitting on my shelf, begging to be read. Heck, I even bought the prequel not too long ago: Bookshops and Bonedust. And before you say anything, dear reader, I will get to it.

Eventually.

It just so happens my blog is not solely a book blog. Nor am I a BookTuber/ Booktoker by day or by night. So, you know, it's very understandable why I've not read through this, assumedly masterpiece of a tale. Plus, I also have a lot of other hobbies like badminton, videogames and my own actual writing. All of which detract from my reading time.

Then, of course, there's my dating life, which, albeit is slowing down because I've mostly given up on men. And well, the women are certainly not biting as often.

What's a 32-year-old supposed to do except pine for the love of a fictional character? Karlach, I'm looking at you for when I finally start playing Baldur's Gate 3.

As you've no doubt picked up on, this blog is yet another entry into my forays of dating. This time round, I met up with a woman (third time's the charm, maybe? We're still chatting on the occasion although the topic has shifted into more a creative enterprise). It started with her liking one of my Hinge prompts, and after thoroughly checking her profile (she had actually cropped up in a few of my recommends previously), I thought I would do her the courtesy of matching.

It was followed by a brief conversation on mythology before the two of us went down the tabletop role-playing game route where we both tried, and failed, at playing grifters stealing personal information. Now we're on a journey to stop the Goblin King. The dastardly creature has stolen her identity, leaving naught but an empty vault of where it should be. And because of that, I, the handsome rogue in this situation, must continue masquerading as a Nigerian Prince as we go forth to acquire a magical sword with the ability to track goblins.

So far, we've made it to a small town called Bree. Although we did try to ride towards Bag's End, a number of black riders passed us by and Keyleth - the codename I've decided to use in this instance to refer to my date - was insistent we put a stop to their evil plans. Not that we know they're evil.

They simply have business with a halfling and are being very difficult about anyone who might be in their way.

As you can see, dear reader, we are most assuredly not in Kansas anymore.

That said, we did arrange to meet at a cafe halfway between where we live in what is fittingly named The Shire for Sydneysiders like me. It should be noted that unlike me, Keyleth does not live in Sydney. Rather, she is situated in the coastal city of Wollongong. You'll remember it as a place I visited not too long ago with a group of friends as we tackled a dastardly difficult escape room.

At the time, though, Keyleth's path and mine had not yet crossed. A shame, truly, since there are quite a few choice burger places in Wollongong we could potentially visit if I didn't mind the long drive down.

The cafe was named 7th Heaven. To my dismay, there was no raven-haired bartender or a blond courier. What it did have were a number of brunch options such as my go-to meal in almost every situation: Eggs Benedict with a side of smoked salmon. Keyleth ordered a milkshake and Eggs on Toast, adding on top of it a rasher or two of bacon and some delectable avocado.

By the end, though, she'd barely touched it - having eaten only one piece of bread and egg, some bacon and hardly any of the avocado.

Keyleth was the first to arrive - most probably due to the limited number of trains and because she had further to travel. I arrived just shy of the appointed time at 10. When I arrived, I had not quite expected the shock of dyed red hair to greet me. After all, in all her previous photos - both on Hinge and on Whatsapp - Keyleth had sported long blonde hair.

Still, she was keen to give me a hug, though I was quick to advise I wasn't much of a hugger. Or even a physical touch kinda gal. Yes, I'm more willing to accept it from a woman but it's not something I tend to do. And it's certainly not one of my key love languages.

Once I had sat down, we chatted idly about how our week had gone. After putting in our order, we began the painstaking process of learning a little more of the other. Keyleth learned I was an only child, whereas I learned she had a sister. Some of our family dynamics were talked about before we moved to more dangerous topics: like my favourite musical and whether or not I am actually a theatre kid (spoiler alert, I am not. Yes, I've been to four musicals in the last four months but those are baby numbers compared to the actual musical nerds out there. Or so I hope).

We also chatted about the weird role-playing experience unfolding on our messages, with Keyleth confirming the Goblin King was none other than David Bowie from Labyrinth.

Then, of course, we also talked a little about our dating experiences. Given I was asexual and she was demisexual, it seemed prudent for us to address the very big elephant in the room of what an actual relationship would be like. Both of us were a little uneasy about jumping immediately jumping into relationships as we required time to get to know the people we would be committing a significant portion of time with. Lust is certainly not a thing either of us experienced at first sight. And in order to catch feels, a strong emotional connection must be created first.

I, certainly, have not been in an actual relationship of significance with another. At least in the romantic sense. I do like to think I have many meaningful friendships with the people in my life though it's anyone's guess if they agree. More than likely, they find me egregious or too sardonic for their tastes (in fact, I recently had a nineteen-year-old university student at my work place call me epigrammatic!)

We also bonded over how difficult it was to date cisgender men!

But while the conversation was invigorating, our brunch date did slowly come to an end. Given the immediate surroundings didn't have any other interesting diversion, we paid for our meals and headed back to the local train station. A little unfortunate but sometimes that is how the cookie crumbles.

After all, it would be the height of rudeness to remain at a table for several hours afterwards when all our food was taken away.

Will there be another date with Keyleth? I'm not quite sure. Our conversations were pretty easy-going, flowing from one topic to another.

It was certainly better than the date I had with Tip Top.

As always, time will tell if anything will come of it, but I'm hopeful in obtaining a new friend if nothing romantic blossoms from the encounter. Of course, there is still Dikottir.

And while we haven't exactly had a sixth date/ meet-up, both of us will have gone to PAX in Melbourne by the time this blog post goes up. So, keep your eyes peeled for that riveting entry. Or not.

In the words of the founder of feminism himself, Rhysand, "It's your choice, Feyre darling."

As an aside, I can't say for sure if that's an actual quote from the book but it certainly feels like something he would say. On that note, I need to stop reading books like ACOTAR. I mean, it's no Fourth Wing, so I'm glad for that. But it's definitely not the height of fantasy literature. I was hoping for.

Anyways, THIS WAS ANOTHER EPISODE OF DATING 2.0! WILL A ROSE BE FINALLY AWARDED TO A SUITABLE SUITOR? YOU'LL HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL WE COME BACK FOR THE NEXT UPDATE!

And now, back to the weather!

[melanie-ohara]

My Heart Was Wired in Thorns

Whumpuary2024, Day 03 - Prompt: "Get away from me"

The Dark Urge, Sithla, has her plans interrupted by the Blade of Frontiers

AO3 here

Wyll prodded at the dying embers of the fire with a stick and looked around. Mellephora's meditative trance would be coming to an end soon so they could replace him on watch until morning, but the night was quiet and safe. With the goblins routed and Ethel cut down, Wyll was sure they'd be safe for at least one night - provided no mind flayers showed up to trigger their ceremorphosis up close and personal. He would have forgone watch duty entirely, as Karlach had suggested, but his father's fate was weighing too heavily on his mind. Moonrise Towers was a long hike through the Underdark or over the mountain pass, which would give the Absolute cultists plenty of time to place a wriggling tadpole in his eye…

A flash of movement caught his eye and Wyll looked up from the fire to catch a brief glimpse of silvery blonde disappearing into the treeline. Sithla. Ever since that poor young woman had been slaughtered, Sithla had spent every night bound to a stake Wyll himself hammered into the ground by her bedroll. She insisted on it. He didn't know how she could have freed herself, but it meant something was wrong and he was on his feet before he'd finished his train of thought. He paused before running after her, though - his rapier sat in its sheath on a tree stump a few feet away. If she was armed, and given the collection of blades she kept neatly wrapped next to her pillow he had no reason to believe she wasn't, then he knew he wouldn't stand a chance against the gleeful ferocity he'd seen her unleash. In the second it took him to decide, he lost sight of her in the trees. 

*

Sithla heard a twig snap behind her and knew she was no longer alone. She stepped neatly out of sight behind a tree and waited, hoping it was Astarion out on one of the nightly excursions he thought nobody knew about, or Karlach stomping about looking for a place to pee. 

"I suppose you know I'm here, then." 

Sithla pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Why did it have to be him?

"Go back to camp, Wyll," she said, staying behind her tree. If the Blade of Frontiers had any sense, he wouldn't come close enough for her to ambush him.

"Why are you out here?" he asked. His voice came slightly from her left now as he circled, trying to find her in the darkness.

Sithla looked down at the rolled up bundle of fabric in her hands and thought seriously about how to answer.

"Are you going to stop me?" she said, stepping cautiously around the trunk of the tree. Wyll wasn't nearly as stealthy as her, but even with one eye and no darkvision he still had keen senses. 

"I'm not armed," Wyll replied, carefully avoiding answering her question.

"Neither am I." It was true, all the pretty knives she had collected were still at camp, and Wyll had probably already found her swords stabbed into the ground at the treeline. She had hoped the others would recognise it as a warning not to come after her.

"Come now, we both know you don't need a blade to kill." Wyll was close now, honing in on the sound of her voice. 

If it had been Shadowheart or Lae'zel, or Calarisa, she might have let them find her. Any of them would make it easy. And quick. But Wyll would try and talk her down, and because it was him she worried he might succeed. There was still a part of her that wanted to stay with the others and fight this darkness. A part that wanted to live. 

"Get away from me, Wyll," she said. Her voice cracked and she didn't try to hide it. "Please, just get away from me."

She heard a footstep behind her, and watched out of the corner of her eye as Wyll prowled right past her. It was over, then. All she had to do was take a few silent steps up behind him and crack his knee with the heel of her boot. Oh, and then she could have some fun with the handsome little goody-two-shoes. How much force did it take to snap a devil's horns? Would he feel it if she plucked that stone eye out of his skull? Would he see inside her if she swallowed it? So many delicious questions to - 

Sithla forced herself to stop moving. She was already raising her foot to strike when she wrestled control back from the urge inside her and lowered it back to the ground, placing it hard enough that Wyll would hear. She thought he might jump, or rush out of her reach, but instead he turned slowly, like he wasn't afraid. He should be afraid.

"There you are," he said, as if they had just been playing hide and seek. He did take a step back then, but it was to move out of her personal space. He stayed just inside the reach of her arm, and Sithla wasn't sure if he was trying to goad her or reassure her. He hadn't been lying about his sword, and unarmed combat was something that came as naturally as breathing and cutting to Sithla. He wasn't safe where he was standing, and they both knew it.

"I wish you would just go ," Sithla said. It had been a long day, but until now she hadn't felt tired. With Wyll between her and the rest of the forest, though, her limbs ached and her mind fogged with such pure exhaustion that she wanted to just collapse to the ground. "I can't pretend I can do this any more," she admitted quietly.

"Do what, exactly?" Wyll asked. Was he trying to delay her? Sithla wondered if he had brought anyone else with him to track her down. Astarion was probably the only person at camp who could sneak up on her, but Mellephora could put an arrow through her throat without stepping away from the fireside. 

Sithla sighed and turned away from him. Astarion was nowhere to be seen, and no arrows rained down on her. "Why aren't you trying to kill me?" she asked.

"For what?" Wyll asked. She could tell from his voice that he hadn't moved. "For slipping your bonds? Maybe I just didn't tie them properly tonight."

Sithla shook her head. "You're a monster hunter," she said, "and I'm - "

"You are not a monster," Wyll interrupted with a fervour in his voice that stung Sithla so deeply she had to turn around and look at him. "You're not," he repeated. There was determination and sadness written across his scarred face and in his devil-red eye. "Think of all the good you've done."

Sithla scoffed. "The good ?"

Wyll nodded. "Stopping the goblins. Stopping Ethel, saving Mayrina. Saving the grove."

"Not everyone in the grove though, remember?" Sithla snapped. 

"That was - "

"Out of my control?" Sithla glared at him. "You think that makes it better? "

"Sithla," Wyll started, reaching a hand out for her shoulder. 

A wave of something like panic hit her and she shoved him back so hard he almost fell. "Get away from me!" she screamed, loud enough that someone at camp would surely have heard. "You see this?" she demanded, snatching up the cloak from the ground where it had fallen and unfurling it for him to see. "This is a gift . A reward for what I did to that defenceless woman. For slaughtering her."

Wyll frowned as he looked the cape over. There was nothing special to see, Sithla knew - an unremarkable blood red cowl made of plain dyed wool and cotton. Compared to the vile creature that had presented it to her it was entirely ordinary. 

"A gift from whom?" he asked eventually. 

Sithla howled in frustration and tossed the cape into the dirt. "Hells, what does that fucking matter?" she demanded. "I don't want this! I don't want any of it! I feel nothing unless there's blood on my hands, and all I think about is how to kill the people around me."

She fell to her knees when she felt the first tears bite at her cheeks. 

"I thought if I could just get out of range of Shadowheart's bloody artefact, I might just…"

Wyll knelt in front of her, but didn't try and touch her again. She couldn't look in his stupid beautiful eyes because she knew exactly what she'd see there, and pity would break her utterly. 

"Ceremorphosis," he finished for her.

Sithla swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. Mind flayers don't feel guilt. Not like this."

Wyll didn't say anything for a long time. Sithla could hear someone trying to be quiet approaching from camp but didn't look around to see who it was or what they were planning to do. At this point, she didn't care. Either Wyll would let her go or put him down herself, she felt sure of that. The pain of ceremorphosis held more appeal to her, and not just because there was a part of the dark urge that gleefully called out for her own suffering. She deserved to die badly.

Finally, Wyll spoke. "Killing Karlach was supposed to be out of my control." His voice was low now, quiet so only she could hear it.

Sithla sniffed and glanced up at his horns. "And look what it got you," she said. 

Wyll smiled at her attempt to insult him, and not for the first time Sithla thought about killing him. He's not used to the balance of his horns, it would only take a quick throw to put him on his back . This time, she managed to keep her limbs to herself, and resisted the temptation to slam Wyll into the dirt.

"My point," he said softly, "is that you can resist a lot more than you might think. Even if there are consequences."

Sithla shook her head and closed her eyes against another flood of tears. "I don't have the strength for that."

This time when he touched her shoulder she didn't try to stop him.

"You aren't alone in this, Sithla. Every one of us is with you." He paused until she finally looked up into his eyes. " I'm with you," he said. She didn't find pity there after all - instead, there was just trust, belief, and affection. 

With a barely stifled sob, Sithla collapsed into his arms, buried her face into the thickly woven cloth of his shoulder, and cried until there was nothing left.

[antiqua-lugar]

highlights of playing Phyrune for my Evil Tav Playthrought so far:

she and Lae'zel are besties. game recognizes game. "I come from a superior race but I guess I'll make an exception for you" bracelets are coming

She immediately swapped robes with Gale who also now has to wear green. Now, I could have used purple dye either on her own robe or dyed his new robes purple at least. But I am not doing that. Get used to your new life, Gale.

I'm not sure Astarion has clocked this yet but she thinks of him as her manservant

The funniest part of The Absolute reveal so far is the Shar VS Lolth VS Mystra VS Vlaakith tension getting halted because how dare the Absolute say that, who does she thinks she is. Astarion is just chilling.

Everyone is ignoring all of Phyrune's red flags and it's not like she is secretely an evil mastermind, everyone just digs her vibe for some reason.

Phyrune has made an executive decision that before we infiltrate a camp full of goblins or track down lost githyanki patrols, we should go talk to the nice woman in the woods, Auntie Ethel 4 ever. They are at level 3.

She actually likes both Zevlor and Kagha because they showered her with praise.

She is genuinely sad Byr (the sister to the random True Soul you find in the woods) died fighting the owlbear. I think she related to loving your siblings and also now somewhere a woman lost her only daughter after the misfortune of having TWO sons. I'm sorry Byr's mom.

[shsl-heck]

Pale Live Read Part 1. Blood Runs Cold + Brochure

Just finished the prologue plus brochure thing of Pale, and these were my thoughts. I kind of took screenshots of bits that stuck out to me as I read then am going back over those in chronological order as I write this. Also, gonna do bullet points for now because I think they're convenient and an easy way to structure this, but I'm open to suggestions. Beware of spoilers for Pact ahead if you havent read it, because I love it a lot and this is set in the same universe, so I assume knowledge of it is going to affect my reading of Pale.

I'm immediately a big fan of Louise. Very relatable to me, I too am frequently unsure if I've taken my meds. She just like me frfr. 

Gonna go ahead and predict the moon bleeding isn't good. But this is the Carmine Beast thing I've heard other people mention in relation to Pale right? Also I love the way he described the bleeding moon here.

The Otherverse/the stories set in it are maybe so compelling to me because I too come from a fucked up small town? Like Jacob's Bell and Kennet aren't special, small towns are just like that actually. The way everybody knows everybody's family even if they don't know the individual person is so accurate. I'd be surprised if Wildebeest wasn't from a place like this tbh.

So are the chimpanzee shaped things Goblins? Actual hallucinations? Something else? My money is on goblins because we did see one in Pact fucking with a chronically ill girl so it would be in character for them to pretend to be a dying woman's hallucinations.

Louise would be a great practitioner. She very skillfully has omitted key info about what she's doing in her convo with Lincoln.

The grief she feels when this thing disappears is so palpable, and no one around her shares it, no one even realizes it happened. Idk I think it really captures the feeling of being alone with your loss in just that tiny section.

Okay so at least two practitioners are here now, along with what I'm certain is a humanoid other with a messed up face. Like her face was hidden three times, which matters in this universe. Then there are some kids?

It sounds like something has gone wrong with the Carmine Beast, and these people are trying to deal with it, but don't want the outside influence of what I assume is the lord or council members of a nearby city.

Is this theoretical nearby city Toronto? That's kind of what I'm hoping for. I'm curious what happened to the Astrologer, the Elder Sister, Paige, Fell's niece, and Jeremy. Like I assume the Eye is still just hanging out, and the shepherd is obviously not in the picture, so those five are the ones I have questions about. Isadora is presumably dead based on what the demons said, but what's Paige up to? She was drawing power from Isadora while fighting vestiges, so can she still do that? The Astrologer was nice and I want good things for her. How's tending to his former demesne going for Jeremy? Have the Sisters managed to keep lordship? (I'm gonna guess no since I assume their clout took a big hit after abandoning the fight in Jacob's Bell) How's Fell's niece's training going? Tbh she's the one I think is most likely to appear in Pale out of this group, but I want answers about all of them.

The little notepad thing in the brochure is like a shopping list for an Awakening right? Whoever L, V, and A are, they're gonna try awakening at 5:30. The knife, the thread, the time piece, the skull, and the coin all being doodled on there along with wine and stuff (presumably to offer the spirits) make it basically impossible to imagine it's anything else

It being in a brochure also makes me think these three are new to town.

[cybercookiepainteralmond]

CHAPTER 1 meet Harry O'shaughnessy

Harry O'shaughnessy was exhausted, he woke up on the couch of his family's apartment in a bit of a daze. The previous night was exhausting and he is a little out of sorts upon waking up. He smells good and sighs upon seeing his pajamas were destroyed in the night. Once he changes into a pair of jeans, a black metal band tee shirt and a leather jacket with a pan pride pin on the lapel, Harry is a skinny kid, not unhealthy so but still, he has a pair of round glasses on his face in front of his emerald green eyes and a lightning bolt scar on his head, his unruly mess of black hair is styled into a side shave with the tips dyed a golden yellow he heads over to the kitchen and sees his dad, Jawbone O'shaughnessy a werewolf in his hybrid form with lightish brown fur, wearing khakis and a metal tee, making oatmeal, his cousin Tracker, a lightish brown skinned girl with deep brown hair in an undercut, wearing a sleeveless wolf themed top and jean shorts sitting and giving him a smirk as she says

"Happy birthday little man!"

And giving him a hug, harry fakes embarrassment as he says

"Tracker, don't get hair on my jacket!"

All while Jawbone chuckles, handing out bowls.

"Now you don't get to complain about that Harry, you shed more than her" he says before saying "And for the birthday boy I've got this" and pulls a cake out of the fridge with the text TO THE COOLEST ROGUE THERE'LL EVER BE "You won't believe how far up the chain I had to suck off to get that done"

"DAD!"

"JAWBONE!"

the two teens blush with embarrassment as harry says "Can we please not have the stories this early in the morning?" As he clutches his head from the monthly migraine and Jawbone says "No problem kid, figured I should tell ya, you got into Augefort, that's part'a why I splurged on the cake" as he wipes a tear from his eye while Tracker smiles and says "That's right, my cousin is gonna be an adventurer!" While shaking Harry with a lot of enthusiasm and cheer, a feeling Harry can't help but share as he breaks out into a huge grin, eager to tell his friends as he quickly runs to his room to grab his crystal and text his friends, coming back and saying "Ragh is on his way over right now to celebrate!" While shaking with excitement and accidentally setting himself up for Tracker to say "You sound REALLY happy about that?" Causing Harry to blush and say "S-Shut up, at least I don't tie myself to a wall every month!" As a knock is heard at the door, Harry rushes over to answer and it's a huge half orc wearing a black shirt and jeans, carrying a present with him saying "Happy Birthday bro!" Harry smiles and says "RAGH!" and wraps him in a hug saying "When school starts, you and I are joining the blood rush team." And Ragh instantly nods saying "Hell yeah dude, I already ordered the jackets! Go Owlbears!" And he and Harry both in perfect sync shout "HOOT GROWL!". As the friends celebrate and party the hours away with the O'shaughnessy family, a brief moment of time passes that would make all the difference, a letter sent, a choice made. Who could have predicted this, if not for an Oracle not yet discovered.

In the minutes after the party harry is walking down the hall to talk to a Ms Sklonda Gukgak, when he arrives at the apartment the door is opened by a goblin woman who says "Harry, I'm sorry we couldn't make it by, Riz got himself hurt when spying on the neighbors and I had to get him to the hospital" Harry smiles and says "It's not a problem MS Gukgak, actually I was wanting to tell you something really quick, see I got into Augefort, so I'm probably gonna be breaking a lotta laws as part of class projects and homework" to which Sklonda gives an exasperated sigh before saying "At least it's school related, thanks for the heads up kid." Harry quickly calls to Riz through the apartment saying "Hey man, heard you got into some trouble without me?" And starts trading pointed but lighthearted barbs to keep up with his friend. Afterwards he puts on his headphones listens to the song "broken things" on his crystal while he walks down to the convenience store to pick up some milk that isn't expired, pickpocketing a guy's coin purse to get the gold to pay for it with barely a faint feeling from the person he just stole from.

At the convenience store he uses mage hand to successfully grab the milk from the back of the fridge without issues as he checks the time to see when his support group meets. After paying for the milk with his stolen gold he returns home, puts it up and listens to rock music at the bus stop to try and ignore the anxiousness building inside him, he meets with this group every week, he knows how things go and he understands why he needs it. He messes around with the bracelet his cousin had gotten him for his birthday the year she had found her faith with Galiciaea, the moon goddess, it was a deep blue braided material clasped with a silver crescent moon, Harry understands the sentiment but he can't truly appreciate it, not really.

Once the bus arrives Harry steps on and texts Tracker and his dad [Off to my support group, should be home by 6:00] to which he gets the expect response of [Good luck] from his dad and a smile emoji from Tracker, he absent mindedly watches the buildings pass by as he arrives at the future sight of his education, the Augefort adventuring academy. He steps through the familiar halls and enters the gym to find a group of people all together, he sits down and the organizer of the group, a kindly but haggard looking man in equally haggard looking clothes with claw marks on his face says "Alright, I'm sure there's some stories to tell about how we've been doing so we'll start with the sharing, Harry would you like to go first?" To which Harry sighs and says sadly"My name is Harry O'shaughnessy, and I have Lycanthropy "

Chapter 2 link

[booksandchainmail]

Pale Arc 3

This arc introduces other practitioners! Before they had only been faceless enemies, not directly confronted, but starting with 2.z we see Nicolette, and in Arc 3 the Kennet Trio begin negotiating and allying with them. At the same time, their relations with the Others have begun to decline, due to increased practitioners, going after the Choir, and the investigation.

With Miss gone, Kennet no longer has a strong leader, and even as the Others are more prone to dispute, the girls have begun setting their own goals and directions. In the first two arcs they approached the Others as students, and if not subordinates, agents of Kennet. In this arc they've moved beyond that, and are taking their places as young practitioners.

If they're to function as a source of justice, as managers and shields from the outside world of practitioners, they need to stand independently as equals, not as novices reliant on following directions. But that doesn't mean that some of the Others wouldn't prefer puppet practitioners for Kennet.

As I commented a few chapters before, I'm interested to see how relations will progress, especially as going to summer school brings them deeper into the world of practitioners.

Theorizing below the cut:

My Hungry Choir theories from 3.5:

The moment of Yalda’s death kicked off the Hungry Choir, somehow (ex: dying curse, karmic backlash)

Yalda’s corpse is powering the Choir inadvertently

Someone is deliberately using Yalda’s corpse to power the Choir

Yalda is alive, ran off, and is running or causing the Choir

Yalda is alive, was captured, and is being used to power the Choir

Yalda is alive, potentially with John, and the Choir is being used to contain her abilities so they don’t spill out into Kennet indiscriminately

Of my six Yalda theories, about half were somewhat right, though not the one that I was most convinced by. Her dying curse was used by someone to power the Choir, which also has Yalda's personality running it. So sort of a fusion beween 1, 3, and 4.

We now know the murder weapon! The Hungry Choir. Looking back at 0.0, I just realized that out of the people who show up at the Arena, the Choir is the only one who wasn't fetched by a goblin. Because they were already there, doing the murder. Also, using the Hungry Choir as a murder weapon is clever, since they're hard to interview.

Actually, now that I think about, being able to defeat the Hungry Choir in a way that lets them question it is an amazing thing. I think whoever masterminded this assumed that any investigators would a) not try to interview the Choir b) try but give up, since the Choir doesn't seem to talk or c) get killed by the Choir. Even at the outside chance that they find a way to defeat the Choir, getting honest answers from Yalda seems unlikely. And in that case, that would leave the being who actually did the murder dead, and the investigation potentially unsolvable. Or the Hungry Choir as the fall guy, taking the blame without saying who ordered them.

Now I want to know who voted against letting the Kennet Trio take action against the Hungry Choir.

Oh! New thought: the best guess people had for who would take CB's place was John Stiles or the Hungry Choir. If the Choir takes it, either whoever created them shores them up as a puppet judge, or counts on the position tearing them apart, thus removing a witness. If it's John, presumably the Yalda connection could be used as leverage.

We also now have a description of the people who created the Choir: an old-seeming but not old man, and a woman. Both masked. Not sure how much to trust this description, considering glamour can alter appearances. It would seem to point to Edith and Charles (especially Charles, given how they ask about summoning once Forsworn. And he can lie). Edith is very very suspicious right now, from the coin and her responses to the interview. Maricica also suspicious, due to the coin and general vibes. Another possibility: Miss. Putting herself in harm's way for Avery gets her points with me, but I could see a convoluted plan where she uses being on the Paths to avoid some rounds of questioning and build trust.

The other major new clue is that, if the Hungry Choir was specifically created for this, the murder of the CB was in the works for at least nine years! Not only does that say something about the mastermind's patience, it changes our range of potential motives. I don't think this could have related to a particular case anymore, unless the court moves really really slowly. Everybody seems to assume this is purely about grabbing that power and position for the mastermind/an ally, and it makes sense, that's the kind of power move I could see waiting that long for. Also could be aiming for destabilization.

So! After this arc, we have a few primary suspects, we have method and arguably means, we just need a motive.

[saemi-the-writer]

XV , XXIII and XXIV for all of your Arcana OCs please 💫

Thank you! *rolls up sleeves* now, here you go:

Btw: cheating a bit and giving 2 theme songs for my OCs!

XV.) What does your MC do to get ready for the day? Do they have a routine?

Niamh is a (very) early bird and has indeed her routine.

She's usually up around 5 o'clock in the morning, after getting washed and dressed, she does her morning exercise - physical then magical - followed by a long meditation. Once Niamh is done meditating, she makes her bed and then goes to prepare breakfast and some lunch boxes. After eating and washing the dishes, she goes down to the shop for a quick check-up and cleaning if needed. Niamh burns some incense in the room for readings and eventually prepares or finishes brewing some potions. If she has some time to spare, she will sit for a bit and read a book or do some crafting.

When Asra is here, she checks on him and wakes him up if needed and the two finish preparing the place before opening.

XXIII.) What is your MC’s theme song?

 I see Fire - Celtic Woman

This would be Niamh during the Plague, right before her death, but it also fits resurrected Niamh.

Rasen - Chihiro Onitsuka

Look, if I could make a show of my AU, this would be my pick for the ending song animation!! (Me crying in "I can't make animatics">_<)

Here's the lyrics translation: Wherever I am, Something is dying, I try to cast off My rusting wrath.

Chorus: I change into a bird Flying away from the crowd My doubts change into feathers I freely shake them off of all of it Life My life My fragile life Finally, I've realized...

This arm stretches out Changing into a branch or thin air Forgetting about you I reach Paradise

In a crowd of people The pace is violent I secretly run away from someone Who clings to my legs

(Chorus)

Life My life My precious life Finally, I've reached it.

XXIV.) What is your MC and their LI’s romance theme song?

Anywhere But Here - SafetySuit

This song screams "Asra" and the pairing to me. The "love that will never be" is when the two still have some doubts and haven't confessed yet.

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XV.) What does your MC do to get ready for the day? Do they have a routine?

Réamann's routine is quite similar to Niamh's until a point:

He wakes up early and does his morning exercises then meditation before anything else. After his breakfast, he grooms and feeds Ceres then he checks the to-do list he prepared the previous day. Depending on his schedule, he either starts practising his scales or does some sketches. If he has to meet a client for a painting, he checks the commissioned art he made and/or only prepares his material. Once he's sure that everything is ready, he checks to see if he still has some spare time for a morning stroll either to the docks or the forest, or just to get some pumpkin bread. When the time comes, he passes by his sister's shop to get the lunchboxes she prepared for him before going on his day.

XXIII.) What is your MC’s theme song?

 Never-Ending Story - Within Temptation

It definitely reflects a lot about the way Réa sees the world and his "philosophy".

A spark inside us - "The Princess and the Goblin"

This is a bard song, you can't change my mind! Plus, it fits Réamann's optimism.

XXIV.) What is your MC and their LI’s romance theme song?

I bring you a song - Bambi

I know I already picked this song for Muriel my post "Disney themes", but come on! "I bring you a song" / "I'm singing for you" ? Of course, it would make me think of Réamann and RéaMuri!! 😂

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XV.) What does your MC do to get ready for the day? Do they have a routine?

This family is full of early birds! Erwin is another one! His day starts at 4 - 5 o'clock, and he starts with a cup of strong tea, a bowl of rice porridge and his solo morning training which consists of:

50 lap races

a certain number of press-ups, push-ups and stretchings

training against a dummy - first without weapons, then with his sword

a sequence with his sword on his own

He takes a quick shower/bath afterwards and eats a solid breakfast. Depending on the day, he visits the forge and helps start the fire and sharpens some blades. After that, he checks the schedules and goes to meet the soldiers from night patrols to listen to a quick report. If something needs to be attended to, he goes himself or sends the vice-captain and reports to Nadia if anything is amiss and she needs to be notified.

XXIII.) What is your MC’s theme song?

 Shattered - Trading Yesterday

Post-plague, Erwin became depressed. Niamh died of the plague, the family is grieving and Lucio was "murdered" by fire and he couldn't save him. Poor guy was feeling lost but still tries to move on for his remaining family and loved ones, despite his struggles.

I'll fight - Daughtry

It shows Erwin's kindest and most caring side. He's not one to fight out of pleasure or just to show off, he mostly learnt to survive and protect himself, then he chooses to use his skills to protect his loved ones. Whether "fight" is used figurately or literally, he'll fight for them.

XXIV.) What is your MC and their LI’s romance theme song?

Promise of a Lifetime - Kutless

"The pledge you made to me" <- Erwin definitely made one to Lucio! And not just for his position as the Captain of the guards and bodyguard :p

These two are pining idiots too

[megamindsupremacy]

Except at no point does Captain Stacy die the Spider-Gwen comic. The next two traumatic events for her would be fight Harry Osborn/Green Goblin who blames Spider-Woman for Peter's death and losing her powers and having to bond with the Venom symbiote as a result.

I assume you're talking about this post? I mean, i guess you're right about captain stacy not dying in the spider-gwen comic. that is a thing that did not happen. But I'm talking about Spiderverse logic and the theory of "canon events" from the movie, so the comics are kinda irrelevant to that post. like obviously the spiderverse characters and storylines are Very Similar to their comics counterparts but its not a 1:1 similarity here