#how to remove black magic from husband

[lokisgoodgirl]

The Urge [Loki x Fem. Reader]

A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: [Oneshot] Loki's lack of magical contraception yields unexpected results. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Breeding kink. Smut. Language. Dirty talk. (w/ 1.8k)

"I can smell you." You stopped rinsing dishes, wiping your palms on your leggings before turning off the tap. He’s home early, you thought with mild interest. “What?! Two seconds...” you called. The sound of Loki dropping his keys into the dish by the door rattled. Metal on porcelain. You turned towards the noise, jumping as your husband’s broad shoulders suddenly filled the open kitchen doorway. “I said... I can smell you.” he repeated darkly, leaning against the frame.

Loki’s pupils were dilated, only a sliver of electric blue visible at the furthest rims. You ran your hands up the sharp angle of his jawline, trying to coax a smile. “Well I haven’t showered since last night but I didn’t think it was that -oh!” Loki stooped, hoisting your ass-cheeks with his huge palms. Your legs instinctively cinched around his hips, clinging on. It was a long drop to the floor. “I mean what’s between your thighs, wife.” he hummed menacingly. “You’re ripe.” Heat flushed your cheeks, a thrill thundering to the lowest centre of your sex. It was happening. “Are you sure you’re ready for the weight of my full load?” he snarled against the shell of your ear, the meaning in his words abundantly clear. You shivered. Loki had lifted the enchantment impeding his ability to impregnate you, and it had...side effects. “It will be four times what I usually spend inside that tight little slit of yours. I hope you can take it.” he murmured under his breath as he paced in long strides to the bedroom. He lowered you to the bed. You scrambled back on the mattress, running your eyes hungrily up his triangular torso. “And I hope you can keep it.” he spat, roughly yanking the knot in his tie. Loki had warned you that the tidal wave of god-level hormones would make him a little strange. A little less...sentimental. But even he wasn’t aware just how animalistic he would become in his mission to give you what you desired. What you both desired. He stripped the black suit jacket from his shoulders, unbuttoning the dark shirt slowly as he tilted his head. His gaze stalked over your body, breathless and flushed. He was hard already, his thick cock snaking down his thigh against the tight cotton. “How am I to make you fat with my offspring if you do not remove your clothes?” There was a venom in his voice that made you clench. “Oh, right- sorry.” you mumbled, tugging off your stained t-shirt. You lifted your hips, fumbling the waistband down. “Too long.” he scoffed impatiently, before leaning and grabbing the lowered nylon crotch. In one swift movement, the leggings ripped at the seams, half of the pair landing on the bed-knob. Your husband's stare smouldered with barbarism, his deep love hibernating as primal urges came to the fore. Loki ripped the belt from his hips, the coil of leather falling discarded with a loud crack to the floor.

You shuffled backwards on the martial bed as he unzipped his trousers, the perfect cock that had made love to you thousands of times looking different somehow. Harder? Bigger? you thought frantically, feeling your breath catch in your throat as his naked body descended. Loki’s hair fell wild around his collarbone, eyes narrowing as he tilted his chin to his chest. That smouldering gaze never left your own. “Don’t be afraid, darling." Loki nudged your knees apart gruffly. “You are worthy of breeding with a god, you should be grateful.” He wrapped his long fingers around your delicate wrists. “And I intend to thoroughly breed you tonight, pup. You can be sure of that.” You could feel the swollen tip of his manhood sliding against your entrance, the sticky mess of ovulation grasping against pre-cum gathered at the head. “Oh-my-g-god…” you gasped, unable to form proper words. You had never been more turned on in your life.

“That’s it. Praise me, little one.” Loki purred, before a long inhale made his eyes flutter closed in lust-drunk anticipation. “Such a well-bred cunt you have...” he hummed appreciatively, before licking a trail from your collarbone to your mouth. “Perfect for a god’s seed...” he rasped, releasing one wrist to palm the nearest breast upward. “... perfect for soaking in what I have to give.” he continued lazily. Loki nuzzled against your ear as his grip returned to the free wrist strewn above your head. “My prize breeding bitch.” You arched your back, feeling your pussy gape against the throbbing cock nestled tauntingly between your folds. Ready to burst. He released a ragged moan against your ear, pulsing between your open thighs. “I can’t keep myself out much longer, I can’t resist you like this – you have one final chance to stop before I fill you.” he panted quietly, a semblance of familiarity cracking through feral domination. You shook your head, murmurs of don’t stop passing your lips as a cruel smirk stretched his own. He snarled, mouth falling open as his wide tip squeezed past the tight opening. Loki swallowed, the veins in his neck straining. “Prepare for everyone in nine realms to know you have been fucked into this pathetic state.” he growled ceremonially. He bottomed out with a staggered groan as his grip on your wrists tightened. “And fucked by whom.” You squirmed beneath him, rocking your hips into the curves of his enormous muscular thighs. Waves of bliss soared as he grunted with every slow thrust, devastatingly measured. “Tell me I’m your slut, Loki-” you mewled, whining as he pressed the backs of your thighs mercilessly towards your ears. Loki's eyes fell to the sight of his glistening cock sinking into your swollen pussy, juices already leaking around the mess of twin flesh. He grit his teeth, curls swinging around his jaw as he watched himself disappear repeatedly into your ripe heat. “Remember who it is you have sheathed in your cunt, little one.” he grunted, balls slapping. “I only fuck my slut, I don’t breed her.” You whimpered, lost in a haze of unadulterated eroticism. It was filth. His voice. His hands. His cock. His words. “You’re so fucking t-tight.” he gasped, releasing a rasping moan that shook the Asgardian trinkets on the side-table. “I’m going to pound you so full of my...uhhh- sacred c-cum that you’ll be dripping from that pretty m-mouth.”

Your husband's voice vibrated around the apartment, the timbre so low you were sure it would sink through the floorboards. He was unhinged, the grip around your calves making halos of lightened skin appear beneath the dent of his fingertips. “Don’t-don’t stop...Loki” you gasped, frozen in place by his weight. The god snarled, his upper lip disappearing as his eyes flashed. “I said I would breed you, and I intend to.” he spat, suddenly pulling your wrists and flipping you to all fours. His slippery cock popped from your hole with a squelch as your palms hit the mattress. In a flash, long fingers grasped the nooks of your hips, sinking himself possessively back inside. The two of your groaned in unison as your ass hit the flat of his stomach.

“The way that ripe pussy is desperate to milk me, I won’t last…” he fawned, before placing a tight slap against your ass. “But then, pleasure is not the order of business. Not your pleasure, anyway..” The god muttered darkly under his breath, rhythmically pulling you tight against the base of his shaft before pushing you forwards. The fingers against your flesh would leave bruises. Animalistic grunts clouded the air like smoke as he railed into you like the beat of a drum. You could feel the veins in his cock swell. They pulsed, his body gearing to give you what you craved. Loki’s thrusts were becoming sloppy, erratic breaths scorching the air as he lost himself in the mission. Lost himself in the urge. Whines of his name leaked from your throat, your cheek lowering to the mattress- ass in the air like a bitch in heat. Loki’s hips juddered, the slap of his tight balls against your clit making you want to scream. And then you screamed. Loki chuckled, a choked laugh between stuttering, messy pumps. “That’s it. That’s.it - my breeding mare, taking the mount of your s-stallion as he fucks you full- f-f-fuck-” You and he moaned in unison, rising orgasm shuddering your bodies as Loki’s stomach folded against your back. You could feel the condensation of primal need on your neck from his breath, his cock tugging inside your needy pussy with shallow thrusts as he came undone. He needed this. He needed it just as much as you did. “Fill me p-prince- yes, give it...fucking give it to me-” you thundered. Your hips thrashed as you shoved you ass back to keep his cock steady against your wet centre. “All of it?” Loki choked, planting another smack on your ass with a broken moan. “Every fucking d-drop…” you managed through a strangled cry. The god roared behind you. You could feel thick cream spurt against clenching walls, hot seed sloshing and rising inside the deepest part of you. Loki's firm chest curled against your spine, hair sticking to the sweat gathered on your back. His hips juddered as he emptied himself inside your messy, fertile heat. Every drop. You could sense the clench of his perfect ass as he pumped several more times, milking himself in the slop of his own seed. Dwindling ragged grunts peppered the air, the tender slide of his palms over the curve of your ass telling you that his work was done.

“Stay still.” he murmured, carefully drawing himself from between your legs. Wet slurps filled the air, the light touch of his fingers grazing against your dripping slit. Inspecting. “Turn over-” he said gently, as if to a patient; “-slowly.” he added, before guiding you on your back. There was a broad smile on his face. “Legs up.” he quipped, still kneeling. You rolled your eyes playfully, manoeuvring your crossed ankles to rest on the curve of his neck. “I love you.” he said tentatively, placing a deep kiss on the calf to his side. A blissed-out smile fluttered on your lips. “I love you too.” you replied, reaching for his hand. Loki squeezed. “Based on that performance, we should probably make the most of the next few days.” you sighed, resting back against the pillow. Loki scoffed. “Have you so little faith in my ability to-” He trailed off, seeing the twitch of your eyebrow. “Oh.” he smouldered, pushing his hair back with a conspiratorial smile. “Yes. Indeed, darling. Very wise.” He placed another kiss on your ankle, the tip of his nose inhaling seductively down your calf as his words made you shiver with anticipation. “Better safe than sorry.” he whispered darkly against your skin.

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 18﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader -> Overstimulation

Warnings: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, squirting, Bakugou being a soft yet commanding dom, nipple-play, fingering, breeding. Let me know if I missed anything please? Thank you!

Summary: The perfect way to unwind after work with Katsuki is to share the solace of a perfect dinner, followed by a perfect fuck fest. :3

The recent days in the Bakugou household had been weird, you were busy and so was your husband. You had recently decided to step out of being a Pro hero. It was a big decision and you were thankful that Katsuki was there, understanding your emotions, understanding what you’re going through and soothing you with it all the way.

With the judgemental hero society and the fact that you’d never be able to come home one of these days— your dream of having a family, taking care of a family & being a mother, a wife, a partner. It was all fleeting away, your determination and priorities shifting from protecting the people of Japan to now, protecting the house. Even so, you can’t help but pout when Katsuki comes home at odd hours, it’s been a week or so that you two got to spend some time together. Katsuki was yearning! So were you, for the matter.

Katsuki (2:17 pm): Hey princess

You: (3:00 pm): Oh hey there Suki

Katsuki (3:01 pm): Coming home early today, missing you too bad. Gonna prepare dinner & wait for you.

The text made you beam with joy, fuck! You missed Katsuki’s cooking & Katsuki spoiling you. All he’s done is been your sugar daddy, you wanted— needed some quality time with him.

You (3:02 pm): OH OFCCC!!!!

The rest of the day went by in a haze, Bakugou’s bulls eye was to reach home on time, to spoil his wife. “Kiri handle the patrol for me will ya?” He mumbled, finishing the paperwork & the approvals with the signatures needed for the recent Ad campaigns his PR team has bagged him for.

“Ah man, gonna spoil Y/N?” Kiri smirked, “How cute, it’s been a while since all of us hung out together you know?” Kiri emphasised, which made Katsuki irritated. He just wanted to leave his agency premises right now. “Yeh, patrol. Don’t forget.” With that, he left. Katsuki has changed being a 27 year old Pro hero who is seasoned with the elixir of how to behave and also the self awareness of how to talk. The frequent outbursts weren’t there, however— the fire in his personality still blazed threateningly.

When Bakugou reached home, he was all set to prepare things for his lady love. Stove blazing, his culinary skills all out with every intention of showing off. He ordered your favorite flowers, loads of them— enough to magically decorate the house, your favorite scented candles & by the time you reached home. (Around 8), you were greeted with a different sight altogether.

“Oh my god!” You whined, while Bakugou opened the door and kissed your forehead. “Welcome home Princess, don’t want y’ to forget how amazing I am.” He winked, laced with his sassy, adoring signature grin as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.

“Go freshen up f’ me sweetheart. I’ve kept the dress I wan’ y’ to wear & want to see you in it kay?” You nodded blindingly, too enamoured by the preparations & the efforts Katsuki has done for you.

When you returned, the dinner was set properly, there were foods intermingled from Wasabi dipped sushi, Katsudon, some sweet mochi. Everything that you liked— or might like. The dinner was sweet, Bakugou let you unwind with some expensive rose��, listening to your babbling about what happened at work intently.

Before you knew it, you were being carried princess-style to the bedroom. Both you and Katsuki a little tipsy & you absolutely drowning in the warmth of his scent, in the comfort of his arms. “Let me unwrap my little present, yeah?” Bakugou hums, smiling tenderly and softly at you as he removes your dress off, leaving you in black lacey underwear.

“God damn, Princess.” he mused, licking his lip. “You look so fuckin’ gorgeous I feel like I’d lose my fuckin’ mind.” He smirks, leaning in and taking your panties off, gawking at your soaked pussy & your throbbing clit.

“Were thinking about being loved as much as me thinking about lovin’ you?” Katsuki hummed, not waiting for an answer and leaning in against your inviting folds, a soft groan escaping his parted lips, the moment he wrapped his lips around your needy clit. Thighs spread apart, and your legs falling over his shoulders. “You sound so cute moanin’ for me like that.” Katsuki smirks, gnawing at your clit and licking it over to soothe the irritation.

You were deliciously close to the edge, mouth agape, hands pulling at his hair closer & pussy clamping all up and all for him.

“Shit- mmgh- Katsuki, gonna—”

“Cum for me Princess, let me fuckin’ taste that sloppy cunt.” Your man daunted, the reverberations in his voice pushing you off the edge immediately. “Shit- hng.” Your body spasmed around his tongue, creaming all over him, meanwhile— Katsuki didn’t want to stop. It’s been a while since he’s away from his girl, he wants you, bad.

Your pleasure laced moans turned into gasps and whines, when your overstimulated clit found itself against Katsuki’s relentless thumb, “Give me another, yeah?” he croons, however it makes you feel that you don’t have any option but to— which is exactly what Katsuki wanted.

Leaning in and licking up your juices one last time, his thick, and long fingers found their way to your pussy. “Gonna make you squirt this time.” Katsuki smirked, leaning in and kissing your pelvis as two of his fingers nestled against your folds, curling upwards & against your G-spot.

A lewd moan escapes you when your body registers the pleasure on your clit and your G-spot at the same time.

“Oh my god—” You croak, clamping once again after Katsuki found the perfect rhythm to play with your sloppy pussy. He loved watching you whine and whimper when he goes on at your cunt until you cry.

“Gonna cum again sweetheart?” Katsuki cooed, watching your face contort with pleasure & smirking along. “Yes she will, yes she will.” he hums when he finds you speechless, drowning in pleasure with no escape.

Another, harsh and unforgiving orgasm rakes through you, and as promised, your body ended up complying to Katsuki, you ended up squirting your essence all over, screaming at the shattering waves of pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah baby, just like that.” Katsuki rode out your orgasm, not stopping when he finally unzipped himself, thrusting his cock balls deep in your twitching cunt. “Argh- fuck, so snug & tight.” He lewdly comments, not giving you any time to adjust and railing onto your sweet pussy. “Going to cum for me again, mhm?” He smirked, watching you try to push him away when his thumb finds it’s way back to your clit.

“Awh, don’t be a bad girl Princess.” He chided you gently, leaning in and swallowing your nipple, suckling on it and thrusting deep inside you. Tears glossed into your eyes at the threatening pleasure intermingled deliciously with the pain of overstimulation. The pain of feeling your senses on fire.

“Shit- I- I feel like- m’ close.” You gritted your teeth when Katsuki pulled the hood of your nerves, rubbing onto your now exposed bundle & watching you whine & squirm away to no avail.

“Go on, let your pussy massage daddy’s cock until he cums.” Katsuki leaned in, kissing you passionately and eating away all your moans when you finally, tipped off the edge again. Your overworked pussy spasming around him, clamping around him until ropes of his warm seed fill you up.

“Fuck- good- fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki groaned, stilling inside you, eyes softening when his senses complain to him about how far you’re gone. “Let it go Princess, gonna take care of you now. Leave it to me, yeah? Leave it to your Katsuki.”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 18: Bewitched

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Disclaimer: Please note that this is set in the 60s (like the original series) so there are some traditional dynamics. Also, some of the pairings were just made for plot convenience, I support all the ships without prejudice!

You woke up feeling like it was an important day. It was an important day.

You had received your first invitation to a neighborhood party after a few months of living there, and you were excited about it. Your husband was used to all those human rituals, but you, only since your marriage, had been exposed to them and didn’t know what to expect.

Your friendly and somewhat gossip-loving neighbor, Penelope Alvez, had been the one to extend the invitation. Your husband and hers had the same job and were quite good friends, so she thought it was a great idea to organize a gathering to strengthen the bond.

“I’m home!” called a male voice, as always, exactly at 6:30 p.m.

Your husband had chosen a black suit, white shirt, and a black tie with silver stripes that he had received for Christmas. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and his beard was starting to show. You loved any look he had, but the element of maturity his facial hair gave him had always been a weakness for you. He was one of those men who aged like fine wine.

“Good to see you, my love,” you said softly, in the midst of the mess that was your kitchen. He approached to greet you with a kiss on the lips and smiled as he noticed all the ingredients scattered on the table, the counter, the floor…

“What are you doing, sweetheart?”

“Something to take to the Alvez's house. Isn’t it customary to bring something when you’re invited?”

“Yes, but… you don’t know how to bake.”

“Of course I know how to bake!” you squeaked, feeling offended. It was half-true, as you usually used magic to get decent meals. “I mean, I’m learning, but I’m trying hard.”

“I know, I know. But you could have told me, and I would’ve bought something on my way home, so you wouldn’t have to worry.”

“Let me do this, okay? I know I can.”

Spencer smiled compassionately, touched by your attempt to make a carrot cake. After the shocking revelation (for him) that you came from a powerful line of witches, the two of you had tried to live a life without magic to keep your marriage peaceful. Of course, your mother didn’t agree with this, upset that you were, in her words, lowering yourself and denying your nature.

However, you loved him enough to sacrifice the use of your powers if it meant being able to have a family with that man. No matter anyone’s opinion, it was just the two of you.

Of course, you didn’t completely abandon the use of your abilities, but you mostly did so when he couldn’t notice. After all, household chores were much easier with a little magical help.

“Okay, do you need me to help with anything? It’s almost time to go. I don’t know if you want to shower, get ready, or…”

“No. Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

You were stubborn—your husband knew that and accepted it when you decided to marry. That’s why he stepped out of your space, not wanting to create any unnecessary tension. You just needed time to calm down and carry out your plans.

Half an hour later, he came to check if you were ready, only to find you on the verge of tears in the kitchen. There was a nearly burned cake on the table, a poorly made frosting, and decorating items scattered everywhere. It was chaos.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?”

“It’s horrible! I’m a disaster,” you sobbed, approaching him to let him wrap you in his arms.

“You’re not a disaster; you’re learning,” he reassured you, holding back laughter. Gently, he removed some carrot bits that had somehow ended up in your hair and stroked your back sweetly. “It doesn’t look that bad. We can still save it.”

“I’ll bring it in a container, and… I don’t know, maybe that way it’ll look less awful.”

He encouraged you to do just that, and after helping you pack it up, you got ready to go. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t use a little magic to look better and change your outfit in a couple of minutes. And although your husband suspected it, he didn’t say anything.

Spencer offered you his arm to help you avoid tripping in those little blue heels you were wearing, and then you both walked to your neighbors’ house. You looked nervous when you realized you weren’t the only family attending, and your husband urged you to relax, somewhat amused by how much importance you were placing on it all.

“Good evening! Oh, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Come in, come in!”

The blonde woman with glasses hugged you as soon as she saw you and took the liberty of kissing your cheeks. Behind her was a man who greeted your husband, whom you assumed was Mr. Alvez.

“Thank you for inviting us…”

“Don’t mention it! I was dying to meet my new neighbor,” Penelope murmured, giving you a mischievous look. You felt as if she was trying to tell you she knew your secret.

Spencer encouraged you to enter, placing his hand gently on the small of your back and nudging you forward. Once inside, you met several people: the millionaire, divorced, and eccentric Mr. David Rossi, the LaMontagne family—husband, wife, and two kids—the Morgans, and lastly, a man named Aaron Hotchner, his son Jack, and Jack’s stepmother, Emily Prentiss.

The men were already drinking whiskey and champagne, while the women were chatting peacefully. You asked the hostess where you could put the container with the dreadful creation you had made, and she accompanied you to the kitchen.

“Penelope is obsessed with your wife. She doesn’t even pay me this much attention,” Luke teased once the women had left. “She’s convinced your wife makes things appear out of thin air and says the flowers in your garden are so beautiful because your wife takes care of them with magic and all that.”

“What… what things, that’s ridiculous,” he laughed, trying to sound nonchalant but feeling strange about Penelope’s deduction.

Had she really seen you practicing magic?

“She has a very active imagination. And sometimes she gets bored at home,” he murmured. The truth was, he didn’t believe the woman: he thought she was just pulling his leg.

But your husband, being more perceptive, started to reflect on what it meant for someone in the neighborhood to already be suspecting your particular condition. You both stayed somewhat apart during the gathering, as he wanted to give you a chance to socialize with the women. You know, to get out of the routine a bit.

At some point in the night, he saw Emily coming out of the kitchen with a slice of meringue cake that looked simply delicious, and Spencer excused himself from the other men to investigate.

“Where did you get that?”

“Uh… your wife brought it?” she laughed, a bit confused.

“My wife?”

“Ugh, men. You didn’t even notice what she baked!” the woman exclaimed, scolding him playfully. “It’s delicious, by the way,” she added, tasting the strangely perfect white meringue cream.

Spencer figured it wasn’t a matter of distraction—he knew you hadn’t brought that with you. He went in search of the dessert and saw that, indeed, a beautiful pastry was sitting on the table.

“She’s got a gift, Spencer! It’s almost like she has magic in her hands!” Penelope laughed as she cut a piece for herself before leaving the kitchen to rejoin the group.

He had a glass of champagne in hand as he approached you.

“Ladies, may I steal my wife for a moment?” he asked politely toward the group of women you were with.

You knew something was wrong when he looked at you, and as you walked over to him, you mentally reviewed what could have upset him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why is it that all of a sudden we brought a perfectly baked cake to the gathering?” he whispered through his teeth, keeping a calm expression. Everyone could have easily thought you were having a loving conversation.

“I can explain…”

“Love, you know the whole no-magic thing is for our safety. It’s not just some whim; it’s an agreement we made.”

“Do you not love me anymore?”

“How did you come to that conclusion?” he immediately replied, sounding exasperated. “I’m just saying you can do that at home, but… I don’t want anyone to find out, okay? I’m worried it could put you in danger.”

“No one will die because I fixed a cake, darling,” you exclaimed, pouting. Spencer feared you might be misunderstanding his words and getting upset, so he leaned in slightly to kiss your lips.

“Don’t be mad,” you said, looking at him in that way that made him melt, as you placed your hands carefully on his chest, almost at his neck “We’ll talk about this at home, okay?”

You sighed discontentedly, then glanced aside. The glass in his hand was almost empty, so you thought it would be a good idea to refill it with magic, even though he had explicitly told you not to use it in public a second ago. He said your name in a scolding tone.

“No one’s paying attention, Spence,” you defended yourself, nodding toward the group of people happily chatting. “But fine, I won’t do any more magic. It’s just that… everyone here brought such beautiful things, and I was afraid they wouldn’t like what we brought.”

Your husband, a bit calmer now, smiled briefly and leaned in to kiss you again, more deeply this time.

“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t fit in without your magical abilities. But I also don’t want you to deny who you are. I just want to protect you, my little witch.”

You fell silent, unsure of how to respond to that, and then you leaned against his chest, silently asking him to hold you. He kissed the top of your head, and then you heard someone laughing.

“Save that for home, tiger. You’ll have plenty of time to spoil her later.”

Everyone laughed at Derek’s joke, and you both pulled away, your cheeks slightly flushed from embarrassment.

“Come join us. Reid still hasn’t told us the story of how you two fell in love, and I’m sure everyone’s dying to hear it,” Emily encouraged, sitting on the couch next to her husband.

Spencer took your hand to lead you over, and you both joined the conversation. Later, when you saw him arrive with a slice of meringue cake, you couldn’t help but give him a reproachful look, but he just shrugged and winked at you.

If you had already used your magic, you might as well enjoy it.

[v3nusxsky]

Reader who was already obsessed with Regina hen she was queen and subcontiously that obsession stayed with her after the curse. I mean, bordiline creep behaviour soemtimes. Regina finds out and remembers them from the enchanted forest- they used to sit outside the castle garden and watch Regina walk about- and decides to have kinky kinky sex with this little stalker...

Enchanted by you 18+

*authors note~ second Kinktober fic for my lovely queen🥰 this time will be filling this square for role play and/or power play*

Trigger warnings~ power play/slight role play (but it’s okay bc she’s a queen in cannon sooo), sensory deprivation (blindfolds), bondage, oral sex, your majesty (Regina), alludes to reader being a creep in the name of attraction, magical strap on (reader receives), praise/degrading kink, slight overstimulation

Prompt ~ see ask^^^^^^

Covers this bingo square

Your routine as a simple farmers daughter. Until you saw her. It was purely accidental. Heading back along the broader to the forest from delivering eggs from the farm was where you first laid eyes on the regal woman. Her pure onyx coloured horses guiding her grand carriage past you effortlessly. That’s when you caught the first glance of the queen. It’s all it should’ve been really. A simple glance. Until it was more.

Every day you’d find a way to escape to the castle. No one needed to know. She didn’t even know you existed. Why would she? A stunning example of a woman and a farmers daughter quickly becoming an old maid. No one noticed you and for the first time you were now glad for it. It made it easier to sit just outside of the castle gardens completely unnoticed by the guards as you continued to drink in every step the queen took, memorise every detail of her tight dresses and even going as far to commit the images and sounds of her voice to memory. One glance wasn’t meant to lead to this. You knew it was creepy, the poor woman didn’t know you were watching her so intently every day or how you fantasised about her every night beneath the darkness of your room.

A vivid memory of what you thought to be a dream lead you here. Every day. You’d start in granny’s cafe, trail behind her as she strutted towards the office for a full day of being mayor. After finishing working at the near by high school library you’d catch a glimpse of her heading home to Henry. Her son. Yet you never noted a husband. Before waiting in the shadows as she readied herself for bed before retreating to your own home under the cover of darkness to repeat the same routines.

The day the spell lifted it was purely instinctual for you seek the evil queen out. And there she was in her usual attire back at her own family crypt. You’d seen her visit many times over the years, mayor mills stood in her queen attire, a deep burgundy dress decorated with black delicate lacy trim and a train only worthy of a queen. Her makeup sporting the dark Smokey eye that you didn’t realise you’d missed all these years. Looking the exact same as you recall all those years ago. Content to watch from afar until she pounced.

Within an instant her purple smoke wrapped itself around your form, skilfully tying you with deep purple silks and removing any clothing you had on. Anyone stupid enough to stalk the queen would be punished. “Oh, look at you. All tied up and ready to be punished.” In the dimly lit room you should’ve felt fear, embarrassment or well shame yet all you could do is drink in the sight of the women before you. As regal as ever the evil queen scanned over your form as everything clicked into place. Her little stalker.

“Hm what a naughty little stalker you’ve been. Following me for years thinking I would let you get away with it. Hiding in the shadows like a desperate little whore” the raven haired queen husked taking calculated steps towards you, never once losing your eye contact. You aren’t yourself, that’s your excuse. She knows. Of course she knew. She’s the evil queen. Yet you still can’t help but try to gain some control here, “i’ve been very bad. i think i need to be punished. “

“You have the nerve to stalk me, to act like nothing more than a bitch in heat desperately trying to gain my attention and then demand what I will do with you?” Her words were accompanied with a flick of her wrist causing a blindfold to be snuggly situated around your head covering your eyes, “do I need to gag you too? Or will you be a good little play toy and learn your place?”

“I’ll be good your majesty” you mumbled thoughtfully, after years of watching her it was clear you are on thin ice here. Perhaps this was what you needed. Her to use and abuse you so your own selfish carnal need to be around her would leave. It wasn’t uncommon for the queen to bed many a people in her time of reign, men and women alike had come and gone through her chambers. And well, this had to be a dream. “Oh a cleaver play thing I have” she praised in thought before taking measured steps to reach your bound body and drag it into position. From there she made short work of her dress and exposing her warm core to the room. “Kneel” she commanded, smirking as your body fell willingly into position, “be a dear and make your queen cum and cum hard or I’ll lock you up somewhere no one would even dream of finding a pathetic stalker like you.”

Without needing to be told twice you immediately found your way to her dripping cunt and began to kiss lick and suck every inch of her. You’d imagined tasting her many times before but nothing compared to the real thing. Addicting. No wonder you’ve been after her for so long. Not being able to see the pleasure you were bestowing on her was irritating at best, but then again you didn’t need to. You’d seen her naked body many times over the years in Storybrook. Watching her change or just fresh out of the shower lotioning her smooth gorgeous skin was forever burnt into your memory.

“Such a good slut making her queen feel so good” Regina mewled at a particularly harsh suck to her sensitive bundle of nerves causing you to hum against her soaked folds, arms struggling against the magical silks binding your arms. “Oh does the pathetic whore want to touch her queen?” She teased noticing your squirming, “such a slut for your queen I bet you’d let me keep you forever, personal sex doll for me to use. You’d be the perfect choice wouldnt you?”

When she came, you’d never been more grateful for your attention to detail. Learning quickly what she wanted and her body’s silent cues causing a gush of sweetness to reward your hard effort. It didn’t matter you were uncomfortable, that your tongue had long since grown tired and your knees numb because she may as well be your own personal brand of drug. A sharp tug at your hair demanding you move causing you to mumble in your submissive gaze “Reality is even better than my dreams.”

Your words caught the queen off guard for a second before she murmured a spell to herself to produce a magically enchanted stap on, “silly girl, whores like you need a good fucking to set you back on the right path. Maybe you’ll learn to ask rather than watch like a creep.” Her words stung, you couldn’t help the desire to see her all the time, to know her routines and what she looked like underneath her clothes. It’s really her fault for being too damn sexy. Sex on legs as you called her in private. Due to your sight being taken away, you stumbled as Regina rose to her full height to bend you over the desk you just ate her out on. Hips being slammed onto her desk as she grew impatient, “behave little girl or I’ll leave you here like this, a good for nothing slut for anyone to use. Pathetic.”

Without giving you time to even consider her words you felt the head of a faux cock pressing against your slit, “your majesty! I can’t. I’ve never” you whimpered pitifully. “Oh so filthy pathetic and a virgin? Even more reason to make you mine” she decided out loud and you knew there was no point in pretending you didn’t want her to be your first. “Hold still dear, it hurts more if you move” was her only warning, a moment of tenderness showing how poorly the king had treated her to the trained eye, before she slowly pressed her hips into yours. The toy slipping into your soaking cunt, stretching you out in ways you never knew it could.

“Oh fuck Regina!” You cried out dazed at the full feeling she’d given you. A harsh smack to your right ass cheek and a harsh reminder of you losing your place, “it’s your majesty bitch” before starting to slip out of your pussy only to slam back in, moaning at the feel of your virgin walls suffocating her shaft. “Mine.” She growled “sweet filthy stalker. All mine.”

“All yours majesty! Please please more” you whined taking her now brutal thrusts as pain morphed into white hot pleasure, “want to be yours. Make me yours.” As if the woman needed encouragement. You were hers. Now and forever. “Silly girl, I’m never letting you leave. Ever” she moaned before moving her lips to kiss your shoulder sweetly. Instinctively you leaned your head to the side, allowing her access to your smooth neck as you took everything she had to give. Only when the queen sunk her teeth into to junction between your neck and shoulder did you finally let go, covering the magical shaft in your warm cum, inner walls milking it dry as she tries to prolong your orgasm. “Mine” is all she offers as she slips from your abused core and releases the magical ties.

Laying there on her floor, little room she often hides out in to be alone with her magical books, away from home you hazily rake your eyes over your wife. “Mm so sex on legs” you mumble as she works to magically clean up and change her outfit. “I take it you liked that darling?” Liked would be an understatement, you mentioned before how much you loved her outfits and well the role play was her idea to try out. “Mm Gina so good” you whimpered feeling her magic dress you in a loose shirt, “snuggle?”

If you’d told anyone. That mayor mills, the evil queen was a snuggler no one would believe you. Then again no one in the enchanted forest believed you when you said all those daily visits to the castle would make her notice you. Her sweet little stalker, saviour of her heart, a simple farmers daughter.

Word count~ 1868

[sunnebeam]

fall from grace.

DRABBLE.

pairing: kim taehyung x reader

warnings: smut (are we even surprised at this point? as usual, minors do not interact), unprotected sex (bc of the time period, but in this day & age please use protection), royal au, mentions of actively trying for a child, other warnings withheld due to possible spoilers

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: finally!!! this cute lil drabble completes my 'smut with storylines' collection (which is basically just an unofficial collection of smutty drabbles i wrote for each member lol). anyways, enjoy reading and don't forget to share ur thoughts! ^^

The kingdom's people call you the Peasant Queen.

Some say it in jest, some say it with affection. But you believe a majority say it in disdain.

A lowly peasant as the Queen? A former palace servant as the King's beloved wife? A complete disgrace!

A number of people chalk it up to a love potion. Others point to a curse. Some say you resorted to black magic to bewitch the King. And the crazier the theory becomes, the more they pin the blame on you.

But in truth, you never wanted to become the Queen. Never asked to be and never expected to be. But your husband, King Taehyung, always knew you were going to be one.

"Is everything to your liking, my love?"

You turn your head to your husband's voice, your eyes softening when you see his boxy smile. You nod at his question, turning your gaze back to the windows of your shared chambers, where you can see from a distance the extravagant floral arrangements you had insisted on for the palace gardens.

"Everything is perfect, my King," you respond, feeling his arms wrap around your waist and his hard chest against your back.

"Good," he says simply. As long as you're happy, he supposes he can be happy as well.

"Thank you, my King," you suddenly say, turning in his arms and wrapping your arms around his neck. "Thank you for helping me commemorate today's significance."

His smile hardens but you don't notice.

"Of course, my love."

Your smile widens.

"He would have loved the flowers," you mumble, your smile never faltering.

His eye twitches but you don't catch it.

"I'm sure he would have, my love," he murmurs. "After all, he always used to love what was mine."

"What was that, my King?"

"Nothing, my love," Taehyung mutters then leans his forehead against yours. The both of you stay like that for a few moments, quiet and leaning against each other, before he asks you, "Have you drank your tea for the day?"

Warmth rushes to your cheeks at the mention of the tea that's supposed to help with fertility and conception. You nod, confirming that you have indeed already drank the concoction.

He smirks, his hands reaching for your garment and removing it from your body. The action still makes you bashful no matter how many times he's done it before.

"Still so shy, my Queen?" he teases you while he's removing his own garments.

"I can't help it, my King," you gasp when he pulls you to him, your naked bodies pressing against each other. "I have never been with another man. I have only ever laid with you, and yet you always manage to make me act so... salacious."

Taehyung always loves to be reminded that he's the first man to have taken your innocence. But on days like these, when the garden looks so decorated upon your insistence and the day holds so much significance to you, your words leave a slight bitter taste in his mouth.

Because he was almost not your first. It was almost not him.

"And I'm the only man to see you in such state, my love," he growls, his fingers reaching down to prep your womanhood. When he sees that you're ready for him, he spits on his hand and coats his cock with the wetness before sliding inside you. "Never forget that. Ever."

"I won't, my K-King," you stutter when he starts thrusting in and out. "You're my first..."

A harsh thrust.

"...you're my last..."

And another.

"...and you're my only."

He groans in pleasure and satisfaction, placing his hands on the underside of your knees to lift you up and wrap your legs around him. You, in turn, wrap your arms around his neck and let him carry your full weight with ease.

"That's right, my Queen," he says with conviction, bouncing you up and down on his dick, letting gravity heighten the pleasure for both of you. "I'm your husband. Your King. Me."

Not him, he adds internally.

Because although you've been married to Taehyung for two years now, the thought of him still pops up every now and then. Although you've been Taehyung's wife for two years now, you still decorate the garden with flowers to commemorate his birthday. And although you've been Taehyung's beloved Queen for two years now, you still talk about him from time to time.

"I love you, my King," you whimper when your husband angles your body in mid-air and his thrusts start to reach deeper spots inside you. "I love you so much!"

She loves me, Taehyung chants internally. Not him, not him, not him.

Your King pounds into you with renewed vigor, making you scream wantonly in delight. Your pussy tingles with each movement, clenching around his fat dick uncontrollably.

It doesn't take long before you're creaming around him, your juices gushing and making it easier for him to continue fucking you through your climax. Just as you're coming down from your high, he spills inside you, his member twitching inside you and keeping you plugged up.

Taehyung promptly carries you to the bed, laying you down gently and placing a pillow underneath your lower half. He then pulls out of you slowly, and when he's completely out, he inserts two fingers inside you, making sure not a single drop comes out.

"Maybe we finally made one," you mumble adorably, a hopeful look in your eyes.

Your husband merely smiles. Finally conceiving a child with you... the thought makes him feel content.

Maybe it's time he lets go of his grudges. Maybe it's time he feels secure in the fact that you married him. Maybe it's time he forgets about the palace gardener you fancied before him.

Maybe it's time he forgets about Jeon Jungkook.

After all, although you were in love with Jungkook first, you never ended up telling him. And although Jungkook was in love with you as well, he also never ended up telling you.

Because Taehyung made sure of it.

And although, in the end, you ended up marrying Taehyung, he'll never let you find out the truth.

And the truth is that Jungkook never went back to his home village to take care of his sick mother. The truth is that Jungkook never died from catching his mother's sickness himself. The truth is that Jungkook never even made it home, to begin with.

All you truthfully know is that Jungkook is dead.

But you'll never know that it was all by Taehyung's royal, bloody hands.

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[rupertsfangirl]

Ron Weasley Imagine-Comforts you after a rough day at work (Smut)

Disclosure: Spanking, oral (female & male receiving), Probably missing sum but idk.

Summary: You have a long and rough day at work and your doting husband Ron takes care of you when you get home (IYKYK). 

Word count:2.5k

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Ron Weasley

Note: HOLY HELL I APOLOGIZE! I know I released the original all fluff version like weeks ago but the holidays came around and then my birthday and a bunch of other things but anyway I’m back for now (hehe). I am starting school up again but I should have a bunch of free time due to most of my classes being extracurricular ones since I took college courses to do the other classes early (Yippee for me). Anyway I really hope you enjoy it. I know I had fun writing it even though it took me like a million years. I do plan on making a twins one but I kinda need to rewrite it cuz I accidentally set it in a time period making them underaged sooo yea gotta redo that, oopsies. 

Ron stood in the doorway and let his blue eyes trace your figure. 

“You look beautiful.” You blushed at his compliment. 

“Well today is important.” He walked up next to you and took the necklace you planned to wear off the desk. He placed it around your neck while you lifted your hair allowing him to clasp it together. 

“Perfect,” he whispered, placing his hands on your waist from behind. You smile as you put your matching earrings in. 

“Alright, I'm ready.”

“Do you have everything prepared?”

“Yes, it's all in my organizer.”

“Well then don’t forget you are amazing and you’ve got this, go get’em.” You hug him feeling a surge of extra confidence from his words. You walk out of the room and down the stairs to the fireplace, Ron trailing behind you. He presses a kiss onto your forehead. While stepping into the fireplace you grab a palm full of floo powder,

“Ministry of Magic.” You watch as Ron disappears behind the flames and the ministry's black brick walls appear. You start towards the conference room feeling the sweat on your palms, you take a deep breath and reassure yourself. 

“You got this.” You step into the room first, as you expected. You begin to set up your presentation; it was an important one because it would allow your department to expand and potentially lead to a promotion for yourself. Once everyone had arrived you began the presentation. You glided through with ease feeling quite cool and collected the whole time. Why had you been so nervous before, you thought of Ron’s words and smiled internally. After the presentation you were feeling pretty good about it. You left the room and started back toward your office however you heard a few of the wizards and witches who had been in the room talking badly about your presentation. It made you upset and questioned whether you had hallucinated that you were so calm while presenting. You tried to shake it off but remained in a funk the rest of the day. And add that you were behind on just about everything due to being understaffed, it was a combination of all the things that made you overwhelmed. 

You had stayed about 3 hours overtime and got home later than you planned; but even still the second you got home Ron was there to greet you. He took your bag, giving you a kiss while grabbing it, and placed it on the couch. 

“How was work?” You only groan in response. “That bad sweetheart?” You nod and place your head onto his shoulder letting out a big sigh. Ron tries comforting you by rubbing your back and holding your head. 

“Why don’t you get out of those clothes and we can just relax.” 

“Alright,” you say, grabbing your bag and heading upstairs to change into something comfy. You take your hair out of the tight bun it's been in all day and fling off the narrow pumps your feet were squished into; sitting down you take out your earrings and necklace. 

Suddenly Ron shouts from downstairs, “I have a surprise for you!” You can’t help but feel excited using a spell to quickly and cleanly remove your makeup. You make your way back downstairs to see a table set with two plates of delicious looking food, candles, and glasses of the good stuff (nice wine). Ron looks pleased with himself and you can’t help but feel like you drooled a bit when you saw the food. 

“Oh my goodness, what did I do to deserve you?” You give him a tight hug and you both sit to eat. You tell him all about the rough day you had and he shows all his emotions on his face like he usually did: anger when you told him about the people who talked bad about you, worry when you told him about all the work you have, and excitement when you told him that you still felt the presentation went well. Then he told you all about the day he had at work which was usually light hearted as he co-managed the joke emporium with his brother George. He always managed to make you laugh with something crazy that happened. You guys finished eating and took the plates to the kitchen placing them in the sink then Ron used a spell to start washing them. 

“What do you feel up to, darling: a bath, a movie, or maybe me?” You giggled at his proposal and rubbed your finger on your chin pretending to think really hard. 

“Hmm, what about a massage; my back and feet are killing me.” 

“I can make that happen.” He had placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed them lightly. “Go up to the room, I’ll meet you up there.” 

“Okay.” You head up the stairs and into the room, you lie face down on the bed placing your head into your arms. Ron walks in a minute or so after with a bottle of oil. 

“Well you have to take off your shirt,” he chuckled while giving you a knowing look. You roll your eyes at him making sure to face away from him while removing your shirt. You quickly lay back down on the bed and soon after Ron drips the warm oil onto your back instantly soothing you. He begins to glide his hands along the sides of your back to your shoulders where he puts pressure and squeezes causing you to let out soft moans. 

“You have magic hands Ronnie,” you mumble jokingly. He chuckles quietly and continues to massage the knots out of your shoulders. He then slowly moves his hands down to your lower back and using his thumbs he presses into it and moves out slowly; you gasp lightly feeling loose and calm. 

“Did that feel good?” You nod into the bed and he smiles feeling happy he can please you. Ron’s rough yet gentle hands rubbing from your neck, to your shoulders, to your tailbone. You feel as though you're on a cloud and you allow your mind to wonder. You sense his fingers slip into your pants, slowly pulling them down; you think about telling him off but it’s been awhile since you two had been sexually intimate, so you let him continue. His hands caressing your ass; starting from the bottom of your cheeks and squeezing while sliding up. He pulled the spandex waistband of your underwear letting it slap back down onto your waist and swiftly slapping your ass making you tremble. While sliding your pants off all the way, his hand came down a second time leaving you a shade redder. 

He smirked at his ability to make you squirm and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Ass up.” You bite your lip, abiding his demand, getting on your knees and arching your back to lift your backside into the air. He ran his thumb under the trim of your underwear, lifting it and planting another slap on your cheek; you jump, letting out a slight squeal. 

A pleased grin spread on his face, “You’re so wet for me.” Placing the pad of his finger on the forming wet circle, beginning to rub it; the friction of the fabric against your entrance causing a moan to escape your lips. His fingers traced over your lips gradually moving inwards towards your more sensitive areas; slowly working up the pressure but keeping the same pace. 

“Your hands really are magic.” 

“That's not all that's magic,” a sly smile forming on lips. He roughly pulled off your underwear revealing just how wet you really were. His tongue gently skimming your thigh until slowly reaching your vagina. You softly call out his name as he draws circles and places kisses; soon after pushing his tongue into you. Sultry breaths and rough hands accompanied by a soft tongue brought a rising heat. Contrasting with the coldness of his fingertips as they explored your legs before placing another slap on your ass, pulling a whine from your throat. His mouth hovered just above your clit, placing gentle kisses around the hood and releasing light slow breaths onto it, making you ache for his tongue on your clit. Your hips seemed to take control attempting to move closer to his mouth; prompting Ron to plant another slap on your already rosy cheek. 

“You have to be patient,” he tutted before treating your ass to several quick slaps. The sensations drawing out sounds you were unaware you could make. 

“Please,” you whine.

 He smirks into your skin and shakes his head, “But I love watching you beg.” His finger trailed from the top of your vulva to the bottom; his breath still seemingly rubbing your clitoral hood. As his finger was just to touch your clit he pulled away skipping over the area then continued down. Every time he did this you whined and squirmed, craving his finger pads on your deprived clit. Everything seemed to be in slow motion, the feeling of Ron’s muggy breath and his coarse hands that knew all the spots to make you scream. 

“Ronnie, I-” 

“You're close, I know.” His voice trailed as he put his tongue back to work making you moan at the sudden warm stimulation. He slowly licked up to your clit and finally allowed it some love. Your voice filled the room and you could feel your climax on the tip of your tongue as could he (literally). You felt as if you were filling up until it spilled over, spreading throughout your body making you shiver and moan Ron’s name. Your legs become wobbly and weak causing you to fall flat back onto the bed. Ron flipped you onto your back and wiped your watery eyes. 

“How does my princess feel? Can she take another round?” his hands rubbing your cheeks and head. You felt all the warmth from his body next to yours. You turn your head to face him and biting your lip you nod. He smiles, “We can take a break.” Suddenly you feel a surge of energy from the very last remnants of your orgasm; quickly you straddle Ron who looks shocked but also extremely turned on. You slide his pants down slowly with his boxers in tow, revealing his hard cock. 

“It's so perfect. Perfect for me.” You place a kiss on the head, Ron smiles as his cheeks turn a light red. You slide down his legs to make it easier for your mouth to reach. You reached for the oil on the floor and put a bit on your hand. Placing your hand he twitched at the temperature change. You gripped the center and began slowly moving up and down placing kisses along the side. 

“Sorry it's cold.” He only mumbled under his breath in response. Your other hand made its way to his balls cupping them and beginning to massage them. Dragging your tongue across the head you heard Ron let out stifled moans, using his hand to cover his mouth. His eyes locked with yours, he seemed nervous but you maintained the contact seemingly making him more sensitive. You smile to yourself as you continue to navigate your tongue around his sensitive head, licking up a bit of precum in the process. 

“Does that feel good?” You watched as he brought his hand to grab the back of your head; he lightly tugged your hair letting you know he liked what you were doing. “You need to use your words darling,” you whisper smugly. Using his arm to cover his eyes he mumbled, “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes it feels good.” His whines and reactions to your hand and tongue only tempting you to mess him up further; but you want to take your time teasing him until he can’t hold it. You start to quicken your pace as you feel Ron getting closer from his expressive voice and face as well as the abundance of precum flowing from him. His hand gripped to your hair hard pushing himself deeper into your mouth just as he came. You felt it slide down your throat as you swallowed, wiping some from the corner of your lip. You continued to run your hand up and down as he was feeling out the final traces of his climax. “If i’m magic you must be mythical,” he huffed catching his breath. You laughed a bit at his joke and crawled up to his chest laying your head on him. 

“I guess I must be.” He stroked the back of your head while planting kisses. Your hand remained on his penis, idly rubbing it through which you felt it regain the stiffness it had just moments ago. You slid back down so that his penis was against your stomach. 

“I thought you were tired. And yet here you are taking charge,” He chuckled while sliding a hand on your waist. 

“You’ve invigorated me.” You practically beam with confidence; giving him a sly look, you sit up on your knees to guide his dick inside. Placing your hands on his chest you began to roll your hips, looking at his pleasure stained face. You leaned over pressing your lips to his. His fingers snaking to your hair and pulling you away from his lips leaving a trail of saliva. You had stopped moving, catching your breath from his sudden aggression. His hips started to entertain you with small thrusts making you moan. Releasing your hair, he sat up keeping you in his lap. Pressing your foreheads together you breathe heavily into him soon after your lips are locked with his once again. The kiss is deep and messy matching his hip movements; you can feel him getting closer. He quickly flips you onto your back, catching you by surprise. You look upon his face, admiring him: his heavy breath, the way he looks at you, it makes you squirm a little. You move your hand to stimulate your clit as Ron drags his tongue against your neck, making you shiver. Both yours and Ron’s bodies were nearing their limit. A warm and powerful sensation began to overtake your body until it suddenly burst and felt like a wave crashing and soon after dissipating back into the ocean. At the same time you could hear and see Ron climaxing with you. You felt him fill you up and then fall next to you both of you catching your breaths. Ron turns his head to face you, pushing your head to face him.

“Your brilliant-” you glare a bit, “-and beautiful” he whispers quickly as he caresses your cheek. You smile leaning into his hand, your whole face a bit red. Bringing yourself closer to him you lay your head on his chest, allowing you to hear his fast beating heart. 

“I think I’ll take tomorrow off.” you chuckle. Looking up you give him a suggestive look, he seems to blush but it's hard to tell as his face is all a pinkish red. 

“Y…yeah maybe you should.” He slides his hand down the back of your hair as he speaks, while trying to avoid eye contact. 

“You're cute.”

“And you're perfect.”

[adarkrainbow]

Romanian witches: Baba Dochia

Originally I wanted to only talk about one "Romanian hag" from the world of fairytales, but from this one entity I ended up talking about Muma Padurii and Baba Cloantza and many more... Because there is never just one "baba" or one "muma" in Romania. There is a whole series of malevolent hags and magical old women who all embody in one way or another the benevolent, malevolent, or neutral aspects of the archetypal Romanian witch.

I will mention that Wikipedia lists the Muma Padurii/Baba Cloantza in her wicked form as one of the three recurring villains in Romanian fairytales, alongside the "balaur" (the "dragon", a winged multi-headed evil snake that comes in three variations 1) air-dragon that causes/lives in storms 2) earth-dragon living in chasms and pits and associated with gems 3) water-dragon, usually killed by the saint - see the legend of saint Georges) and the "Zmeu" (Zmei in plural, the Romanian variation of the Slavic creature of the same name, usually a giant sorcerer but which sometimes appear as a dragon)

Now I finally reach the witch I originally wanted to talk about. Baba Dochia. I first learned about her when looking at an article which covered the Romanian translations of the brothers Grimm "Frau Holle", and this article evoked how in Romanian translations the legendary character of Frau Holle was often replaced by a Romanian folkloric being: Baba Dochia (which the article did compare to the Baba Cloantza as an aspect of the "fairytale wicked witch"). With the bonus that the Baba Dochia is closely linked to the weather and to seasonal changes, which explains why she can fit the role of Frau Holle.

Here is what the article had to say about the Baba Dochia.

She is one of the many supernatural "babas" of Romanian legends (remember, "baba" simply means "old woman", the same way the German "Frau" means "lady" or "miss"). Baba Dochia has, like Frau Holle, a weather role - Baba Dochia is a manifestation of the cold weather and the winter season. Or, to be more precise, Baba Dochia is only a manifestation of the end of winter. The whole thing of Baba Dochia is that her "weather role" takes places during the beginning of March, a set of nine days that are typically called the "babele" (plural of Baba). This era marks the end of winter and the beginning of spring - a shift of seasons usually symbolized as a fight between two entities. Baba Dochia is supposed to wear nine "cojoace" (coats made of sheep's skin), representing how cold the weather is. During these nine days, when the weather is violent, unpredictable and constantly-shifting, Baba Dochia will remove each of her coats, one per day - and the more coats the take off, the hotter the air becomes and the more snow melts. In fairytales, this "seasonal battle" usually has the spring season symbolized by the "prince Charming" figure.

This is the case of a specific Romanian fairytale that is an equivalent of the Grimm's "The three little men in the woods". In this fairytale the Baba Dochia is a wicked stepmother that sends her martyrized stepdaughter to a frozen stream, to wash black wool until it becomes white. The stepdaughter encounters a beautiful young man named Martisor (I am not adding the accents here because my keyboard is not equiped for it) who embodies spring: not only does he help the girl, he also gives her flowers (we are in winter). When the stepdaughter returns she manages to get her accused of cheating on her husband (because after all, you know, she accepted the flowers of a handsome stranger in the woods... It can look bad in an old countryside society) ; but these flowers will cause Dochia's downfall. She believes these flowers mean spring is here (when in fact it is still winter), as such she goes to the mountain with her sheeps as she does every spring... but she just ends up frozen to death there, and all her sheeps with her. This folktale is tied to the rocky landscape of several mountains - a type of mineral manifestation called "Babele" and which is supposed to be Baba Dochia and her sheeps, petrified into stone.

Baba Dochia also appeared in the works of Mihail Sadoveanu, but this author decided to reinvent the figure as a less wicked and more tragic character. In his own take on the story of Martisor, Dochia isn't the wickedness of a cruel season that needs to end ; but rather she suffers from the deep gap between the human world and the "otherworld". An Otherworld that Baba Dochia represents: she is a witch-like old woman with obscure powers and a shadowy domain, living all alone in a little cabin at the top of the mountain, isolated from all civilization. One day, she adopts a young orphan girl and she raises her with love - but away from all other human presence. The young girl, who is a plain human unlike the otherwordly Baba Dochia, cannot resist her roots and demands to be allowed to return into humans, in the light-filled world of the valley. Baba Dochia agrees to let her go there to see the humans - but in the valley, the girl falls in love with the titular Martisor and forgets to return to her adoptive mother. The old woman, alone and heartbroken, ends up freezing to death in the coldness of her little dark cabin.

This was all I could get from the article. To this I will add info from a little brief Internet research:

An alternate name of Baba Dochia in Bulgaria and Macedonia is Baba Marta, in reference to the spring celebrations of the first of March, Martenitsi, Bulgarian name of the Romanian Martisoare, from which the "prince" Martisor gets his name. Baba Dochia can also be found under this name in Moldavia. In English, a translation is "Old Dokia".

A variation of the "babele" name described above: the fifteen first days of March can be called the "zilele babei" (the days of the old woman) (babei/baba refering to the old woman, the herb-healer and the female witch)

There are actually many versions of the fairytale I described above:

First version: Baba Dochia had a son, Dragobete in Romanian, Dragomir in Bulgarian, who married a young girl against his mother's will. Dochia abuses her daughter-in-law and at the end of February sends her to fetch berries in the woods. She is helped by an old man, who is actually God in disguise and produces the berries by a miracle. When Baba Dochia/Marta sees the berries, she believes spring is here, puts on twelve sheep-skins as coats and goes to the mountain with her son and sheeps. But due to the rain her coats get soaked and heavy - so she removes them, but the frost suddenly arrives and freezes her to death, with her sheeps, and her son who was playing the flute.

Second variation: Pretty similar to the first, with a few details changed. There are only nine coats instead of twelve, and the Baba removes them due to the hot weather before the frost suddenly arrives. Her son doesn't go with her to the mountain. The girl isn't helped by God but by the Virgin Mary or a female saint. The girl is precisely asked to go fetch strawberries. And here the Baba and her sheeps don't just freeze to death, they are petrified into the "babele" stones found in the mountains.

Third version: The baba sends her daughter-in-law to the river in winter to clean a very dirty coat until it gets white and shining, but the girl fails to do so and cries. A mysterious man arrives and gives her a snowdrop flower which makes the coat white by magic. When the girl returns with the white coat and the flower in her hair, baba Dochia believes spring is here - and she ends up like in the previous tales, frozen/petrified on the mountain.

Fourth version: Again, Dragobete marries a woman against his mother's will, so the baba Dochia abuses her, and notably sends her wash black wool in a stream until it becomes white (an impossible task). The baba specifically forbids her from returning until the wool is white, and since the girl can only freeze her hands in the cold water she cries about losing her husband (that she loves very much). Jesus then appears and offers her a red flower which makes the wool white. When the girl returns Baba Dochia believes springtime came since a man could pick up a flower - and you know the rest, she goes to the mountain with her nine coats, due to the weather she drops them one by one, and when she gets rid of the last everything suddenly turns cold and she freezes to death. (There's a fifth version which is just this story but with twelve coats instead of nine)

Outside of pure fairytales, if we go more into the folklore and myths, scholars debate the possible origins of the Baba Dochia/Baba Marta. Some believe she might be a character born of the old name of Dacia (Dakia in Latin and medieval Greek, close to "Dochia/Dokia"). Others believe she might have evolved from a Byzantine celebration Eudoxia/Eudokia's martyr on the 1st of March. A third theory is that she is the leftover of an ancient Thracian goddess common to the Romanian and Bulgarian territories, a deity of agriculture, fertility, renewal... But all in all the Baba Dochia/Marta was seen as a weather spirit with a quickly-changing mind, an unstable temper, and as a result needed to be appeased with offerings. Only by these gifts will she make sure winter doesn't last too long and spring returns ( in fairytales it turned into the Dochia's death causing the triumph of spring). A folkloric ritual consists of leaving the offerings by fruit-trees or under rocks, and if they are left under rocks, people then look which kind of insect lives or takes refuge there. Depending on whether it is a millipede, a spider, a cockroach or any other thing, it will form an omen about how the year to come will unfold, turning the Dochia-offering into a divination ritual.

But as I said before, the baba Dochia was mostly seen as a negative entity - it was said she was a spirit of the bad weather who during the nine "babele" (the nine first days of March during which she removes her nine coats) brought snowstorms and cold winds. Another divination ritual had a woman choose randomly one of the nine babele-days: if the day turns out to be good weather, she is promised to stay fair and nice in her old days ; if the day has bad weather, it means she will age into a bitter hag. There's a lot of proverbs and sayings tied to the weather and Dochia - which makes her similar to the German Frau Holle. Of course when people say "Baba Dochia removes one of her coats", it means the weather is very warm ; but when it snows people also say "Baba Dochia is shaking her coat".

The Baba Dochia also appears in a little story that is told all the way across Europe (I know this because just a few days ago I read a variation of it among fairytales of Bretagne). The story always goes the same: there is an arrogant or wicked old woman/shepherdess who for a reason or another mocks or threatens the month of March (here a sentient entity) at the beginning of the year. March, in revenge steals some days from February so that he can come earlier to punish the old lady. In Romania, this old lady is Baba Dochia.

There is also a very WEIRD pseudo-historical legend which tries to explain Baba Dochia as having been a person from the Antique history of the land... According to this tale, Dochia was related to the last Dacian king, Decebalus (she was his sister for some, his daughter for others). When the Roman emperor Trajan conquered the Dacians, Dochia fled into the Carpathian mountains because Trajan wanted to marry her. She disguised herself as a shepherd, and all her servants and followers disguised themselves as sheep. But Trajan kept pursuing her and sending his forces after her, so in despair she prayed to the Dacian god Zalmoxis, who turned her and her fake-sheeps into the Babele stones we can still see today. Quite a strange story, heh?

There's also a Christianized, benevolent version of the Baba Dochia - because of course, Christianity is VERY strong in Romania and gets its hands onto every folkloric character it can (this is why in the Baba Dochia fairytales the Martisor-Prince Spring figure gets so often replaced by Jesus). In this sanitized, Christianized version, baba Dochia was a pious old woman whose prayers for winter to end brought spring... Quite a far move from the wicked stepmother.

As a last note: Baba Dochia's son, Dragobete, also plays a part in the "weather symbolism/calendar meaning" of the fairytale. Because while Martisor is the beginning of spring and Baba Dochia the end of winter, Dragobete is actually an old Romanian god of love (often called the Romanian Eros/Cupid) who is celebrated during the "Dragobetele" celebrations on the 14th of February... The Romanian Saint Valentine's day. Dragobete was called in old pagan traditions "he who bets on love" and "the godfather of animals", because he protected and blessed all couples upon his day - as such, you had a sort of human "Saint Valentine" celebration on his feast-day, but you also had an homage to what was believed to be the "engagement of birds". There's a whole set of traditions and legends surrounding this, which I will not expand upon here, but it makes sense that this spirit of the love-day of February is symbolized as the loving husband of the heroine and the son of the hag of the end of February...

[faerievampling]

Killing Time

Chapter 11: Stargirl

Pairing: Soft ascended Astarion x female vampire tav/reader

Summary: Astarion and you handle the aftermath of your captivity; a celestial patron comes to visit his favorite new warlock, and Lae’zel thinks the vampire couple need to get a room.

Warning: 18+. Mention of past SA. Light dub-con touching.

Word Count: 4.8k

M.List (all chapters of Killing Time are there!)

Link to Ao3!

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picture creds to @cheekylittlepupp<3

Angel’s sudden appearance causes quite the commotion, especially considering the second thing Angel said was regarding the lewd painting of you hanging on the wall; Astarion’s demanding you tell him who this strange, naked thing was in your bedroom, all while Angel plays with his hair, carelessly twirling a black strand around his finger.

“Oh yeah, I totally saved your girl!”Angel exclaims, his scarlet and golden eye twinkling, mirroring your own. You think Astarion is too stunned to speak. Angel wasn’t particularly threatening, but married men do not often take kindly to seeing other naked men so close to their marital bed, unless invited, of course. 

You curl your hand around Astarion’s bicep, shamelessly taking a second to admire the hardness and shape of it before stepping in front of him, squaring yourself up to your patron. Your admiration of your husband’s body has you briefly ruminating on that drow, that shell of a man that you enjoyed. You can’t recall how he died.

“You tore off his jaw and ripped out his tongue, and then your spawn dismembered him and set him on fire!” Angel explains with excitement. “You were really screaming at that one, too, that pretty one. But I got outta there after a while. You sounded like a banshee! It was horrible~”

“He’s my patron. Not a very useful one,” You explain as Astarion grabs your hand, prompting you to swivel your head, meeting his gaze. You see the desperation in your husband’s eyes, his desire to know what all has happened to his beloved. “He removed the silver on one of my legs, and I freed him from some box in Geldon Moth’s weird museum before I attacked.”

“I unlocked the doors for you, didn’t I?” Angel replies, reaching for your hand before you can wretch it away from his grasp. 

You hadn’t even noticed the doors beyond the first one that you had to use a scroll to open. “You promised to get me back to Astarion! I don’t even know how many vampires I had to kill with my bare fucking hands. And I was walking in the woods for hours!”

“Don’t be mad, girl. I knew you’d be okay. A master always finds his pet, and with all those ancient draconic magical barriers the dude had up, when he died, I knew your husband would find you. And he did, and you’re fine now, hurray!” Angel brings your hand to his lips, planting a kiss in your palm, causing Astarion to growl next to you.

“Don’t kiss my wife,” Astarion demands, baring his fangs as he gently tugs you to him, but Angel still holds onto your wrist, his grip only becoming more firm.

“Don’t be married to my favorite payee! Aha~” Angel smiles at Astarion, only making your vampire scowl deeper. “Listen, beautiful,” Angel looks to you. 

“No-no, you listen –“ You start, but before you can continue, Angel interrupts.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about our little eye exchange! Please forgive me, Mrs. Ancunín,” Angel says, finding the intent of your words in your head, seemingly thinking it was a waste of breath. He  doesn’t wait for you to respond before continuing. 

“Anyways, I’ve got two things for you: a new task and a new pact boon, so c’mere,” Angel says as he tugs you closer, breaking you away from Astarion’s grasp. Angel’s touch feels like the first time you met him: warm, inviting…almost safe. His hands move to either side of your face, and you realize he’s about to kiss you. 

Astarion lunges at him, but Angel is unaffected, having teleported across the room in the blink of an eye. Whatever form Angel has taken was rather powerful, and he simply raises an eyebrow at the two of you as Astarion pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you defensively. 

“I’ve held my tongue and my arm because you clearly have some dealings with my wife, but you certainly won’t be kissing her, you mongrel,” Astarion’s voice comes out a deep growl, guttural, and you can’t remember the last time you heard him sound that way. “Keep your hands to yourself!”

“Your faces are just too pretty to be so stinky. Cheer up!” Angel practically twinkles, his radiance making you feel some sort of kinship for his light, deep inside of you. “I’m not gonna hurt her. I love Tav! I need her!”

“Don’t say you love my wife, either.”

“How could I not love her? I’m her God,” Angel’s arms fold, his almond eyes devastating you even from across the room. He has an air of eroticism about him, something that deeply stirs you and Astarion both. It has some particular effect on you, but you hardly understand it.

Despite this, you cling to Astarion, practically begging him not to attack Angel again: it just felt like a really really bad idea, and your gut churned at the thought. 

“What do you need me to do?” Yousound measured, leveled, your stomach still bubbling with anxiety. 

“Well, okay, see – there’s this relic I need you to get. It’s actually a sword, or a spear, and I just so happen to know exactly where it is!” Angel’s stare is fixated on you. “Go on. Ask me where it is.”

You grit your teeth. “Where is it?”

“The ruins of Baldur’s Gate!” Angel brings out his hands, allowing this to ruminate, but you and Astarion hardly react. “Oh, come on. That’s the old stomping grounds, right? I hear most of the statues of the six heroes and several of Grand Duke Ravengard still stand today.”

“Were you even alive when we lived in Baldur’s Gate? Were you even alive when it fell?” Astarion asks, his frustration apparent. 

“Does it really matter? I need this weapon, and Tav is going to get it for me,” Angel’s composure falls for just a moment; you think he’s annoyed, maybe tired, but he hardly shows it. When he’s put the mask back on, the look in his eyes is one of desire.

“And now for the boon.” Angel slowly walks over to you, his hand outstretched towards you. You find yourself looking deeply into his eyes, the warm gold and the decadent crimson bringing you a sense of familiarity. You feel comfortable and seen, and you’re tempted to take his hand.

“What is this, Tav?” Astarion asks you angrily, his voice rasping in your ear.

“I think…I think I know,” You say, stepping out of Astarion’s arms. Astarion doesn’t hold you back, but he scowls deeper than ever, his eyes watering in anger and jealousy. A kiss must be part of the pact.

“You do know. The part of me that’s in you knows,” Angel says as his hand meets yours. “And the part of you that’s in me wants it. It’s just a little kiss…think of it as a team building exercise; although, there are more intimate ways we could do that.”

“You dare –“ Astarion begins.

“Astarion,” You interrupt, breaking your once locked-in gaze with Angel, turning to your lover. Astarion’s ears almost flatten as you look at him, his eyes rounding at you. You can tell how difficult this is for him: for you both. 

“Don’t, Tav,” Astarion pleads. The desperation in his voice devastates you. He brings his voice to a whisper: “Please.”

You step back towards Astarion, away from Angel. 

“She kinda doesn’t have a choice, if that makes you feel better!” Angel exclaims, his smile ceaseless. “Besides, what was the point of all of this if you won’t accept my full power? I know you want it, girl.”

You fight to hold your tongue at this last part; the tension in the room was already so thick with Astarion fuming next to you, you think arguing with Angel will only make it worse. 

Astarion puffs his chest. “She won’t be doing anything until I’ve reviewed her contract terms.”

Angel is uncharacteristically silent. Astarion looks at you, and your face says it all. “Darling, do not tell me. Don’t you dare say that you don’t know.” Astarion’s face darkens, a shadow crossing over his eyes as he glares at you.

“I don’t know them.” You look at your feet as you say this. Your husband used to be a magistrate: he was educated in law and politics, oversaw many aspects of government in Toril, and to be very clear, was very very knowledgeable on contracts. The fact that his own wife didn’t think to ask about the terms simply angers him.

“I didn’t know what else to do. I was so desperate,” You explain, feeling something white and hot rise within you. “Must I explain myself to you?”

Astarion’s eyes widen at your irritation, but Angel hardly gives him time to speak.

“She was so desperate! So eager,” Angel says, twirling his hair with a finger. “Geldon Moth likes to break his toys. You’re lucky she’s even alive. Thanks to me, of course.”

The truth of his words slice through you. The sheer emotion Astarion puts off is cold, harsh, and you feel yourself tense up further, your nails digging into your palm. Angel doesn’t really seem to notice or care.

“Give them to me, now.” Astarion is a force to be reckoned with when angered, and you can tell he’s trying to be measured here. 

“Tav, close your left eye. It’s been there the whole time!” Angel explains. “You just gotta, like, think about it and focus on it.” Angel takes a breath before muttering, “I think.”

“What in the hells do you mean by ‘I think’? Are you using my woman–“

“Your wife, Astarion, I’m your wife,” You interject. 

“That you are. And you are my very life, Tav,” Astarion amends before turning to Angel. “My wife is your first warlock, isn’t she?”

Angel smiles, giving Astarion a wink. 

You curse him under your breath as you cover your left eye with your hand, trying to focus on Angel and what he provided you. But on the inside, you don’t feel any different. Still coming to terms with the separation of your mind from Astarion’s, it was hard to feel anything but his absence. 

But still, Angel didn’t lie. The words of the terms begin to appear before your eyes, glittering in cursive gold behind your lid. 

“I can’t lie, you know,” Angel’s smile turns into a smirk, and it is almost smug – almost.

“That’s a myth.” Astarion crosses his arms. “Don’t spin tales to my wife like that. I won’t let her hear it. And don’t –“

“Before you say that next part, I can’t help reading minds. It’s something that never stops!”

“What in the hells, Angel,” You turn, interrupting the men’s banter, the churning in your gut making you feel sick. 

****

Covenant of the Pleasurable Exchange

This document serves as a binding agreement between [True Name], hereinafter referred to as “The Patron,” a being of celestial descent and terrestrial fall, and Tav Ancunín, hereinafter referred to as “Mrs. Ancunín,” an ancient being of vampiric origin. 

I. Granting of the Boon

The Patron hereby agrees to bestow upon Mrs. Ancunín a boon of significant power, the nature of which shall be determined by the needs and the will of The Patron.

II. The Sacred Exchange

The granting of the aforementioned boon is contingent upon the completion of a Sacred Exchange, to be carried out in two parts, detailed as follows:

The Twilight Kiss: Mrs. Ancunín shall bestow upon The Patron a kiss, symbolizing the merging of life and undeath. This act shall also initiate the transfer of energies between the two parties, allowing The Patron to feed off the sexual energy of Mrs. Ancunín, in a manner that sustains The Patron’s existence within the mortal realm.

The Aetherial Gaze: Mrs. Ancunín and The Patron shall exchange one eye each, symbolizing a deep understanding and shared vision between the realms of life and undeath. Other parts of the body may be exchanged with the mutual consent of The Patron and Mrs. Ancunín, the powers of which to be determined at the time of exchange.

III. Conditions and Responsibilities

Sustenance of The Patron: Mrs. Ancunín acknowledges the necessity for The Patron to feed off her sexual energy as part of the Sacred Exchange. This sustenance is limited to the energy produced through the act of the Twilight Kiss and any subsequent acts agreed upon by both parties, respecting the boundaries of consent and willingness. Other sexual acts may be performed to provide sustenance to The Patron. 

Protection of the Shared Vision: Upon the exchange of eyes, both The Patron and Mrs. Ancunín are bound to protect the new vision granted by this covenant. The Patron and Mrs. Ancunín acknowledge the permanency of the exchange of eyes and all other bodily exchanges.

Secrecy and Discretion: The terms of this covenant, along with the powers and insights gained from it, shall remain a closely guarded secret, shared only between The Patron and Mrs. Ancunín. 

IV. Termination

This covenant may be dissolved under conditions mutually agreed upon by both parties. However, the insights and powers gained shall remain.

V. Signatures

This covenant is sealed with a kiss, paid for by Mrs. Ancunín to The Patron on the date of 19 Ches, 3502 D.R.

****

“What the fuck. This isn’t okay,” Your words coming hurling from your lips as you bare your fangs at Angel. Sexual energy? Sustenance? The exchange of body parts? Secrecy?

“What? What does it say?” Astarion asks, his voice frantic as he puts his hands on you again, grabbing at your waist. 

Angel smiles at you. “This is a fairly common contract, girl. And the secrecy clause is the only part of the contract you can talk about. Now that I’m free, I really do need that kiss.”  Angel pouts, his eyebrows knitting together. “And you’ll really need the boon for your task, I promise you. One little kiss is all I need, and you’ll have your power. You’ll have to complete the task either way, ha~”

The white hot rage within you wells up to your chest. It hurts, tightening your muscles and making your bones ache, so much that it makes you want to scream, or maybe cry, you aren’t sure which. 

“Get out of my face,” You sneer, your fangs bared. You’ve put yourself in front of Astarion. You felt so empty inside, you’re grasping at something to connect you back to yourself, the only thing yearning inside of you is the desire to offensively protect. “Get off my territory. Begone, son of Lastai!” 

Angel tilts his head down, his eyes looking sharp. His pretty lips still hold his hallmark smile. “I can see you’re upset, Mrs. Ancunín. I’ll come back later.”

The moment he’s gone, you’ve given yourself over to Astarion, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him into a close hug. He immediately reciprocates, his arms firmly around you. 

“I promise I will get you out of this,” Astarion whispers. He plants a wet kiss to the scar on your forehead, pressing the tip of his nose to your skin as he speaks. 

“We did it for Wyll all those years ago.” Astarion pulls away from you, so that he can meet your far off gaze. His eyes are rounded, his eyebrows turned down with worry. “Remember him, my love?”

But your eyes are wild, because you can’t stop thinking that all of this is your fault. Astarion cups your cheeks, his thumbs gently rubbing at your temples. 

“I don’t know what to do, Tav…” Astarion begins, but his words are failing him. “I love you. Nothing that occurred during your captivity could ever make me love you any less.” Astarion’s voice cracks, and you know he’s (trying not to) thinking of his own past. 

“Love…” You say, as you too are at a loss for words. All you can do is gently caress his jaw as you bring his lips to yours, rubbing the tip of your nose to his after you’ve released yourself from a passionate embrace. 

When you arrive at Astarion’s office, hand in hand with your forever love, Lae’zel keeps her face straight. Your appearance doesn’t frighten her, but fills her heart with sorrow. Your eye, your scars – Lae’zel can’t help but notice the long sleeves you wore and the marks that marred your neck. You were still beautiful, and the longer Lae’zel studied you, the more powerful and bright your aura became: you are more stunning to her than you’d ever been. And by the obvious way Astarion can’t take his eyes off you, Lae’zel knew he felt the same. 

“I’m very relieved to see you, Tav.” Lae’zel smiles, her tone sweeter than usual. She brings you into an awkward hug, which you accept, patting her on the back. You really do mean it, this hug, and you’re relieved to see your old friend: but a touch that wasn’t Astarion’s was a touch that may not be safe. You briefly wonder if even your husband’s touch was safe. 

You also wonder if Lae’zel’ blood is as thick and sweet as it smells…“I’m glad to see you too. Did you get that thing I grabbed for you?”

“I did. That was…” Lae’zel wasn’t about to hurt your feelings. You had grabbed Orpheus’s prison for her, which was something Lae’zel hadn’t particularly wanted, but she had a feeling you knew not what it was. “Thank you. I was glad to see some items from our adventure still remain.”

“It had githyanki letters on it. And it smelled like you, and I remember you being really concerned about it. I was concerned about it too, I’m sure. So I grabbed it.” 

Astarion and Lae’zel look at each other, and you see the gith is trying to restrain her laughter. When you study your husband closer, you realize he too is trying not to laugh. 

Stupid. You’re stupid. They also think you’re stupid. You frown, your eyebrows knitting together as you look at the two of them. “What? You both laugh because I can’t remember?”

Your question comes out sounding more angry than you intend. Lae’zel and Astarion look surprised at your outburst. Astarion has his hands on you immediately, softly petting and cooing at you to calm down, that they meant nothing by it.

“My love, you used to throw this relic around camp, kicking it into the dirt, cursing at the damned thing to open. You and Lae’zel would…” Astarion looks to Lae’zel expectantly.

“Smack talk. Shit talk, if you will,” Lae’zel adds with a light smile, trying to lighten the mood. 

“The two would decimate this thing with your words,” Astarion explains. “And once we discovered the tentacled freak inside, you didn’t stop.”

“Thank you for bringing it to me, Tav. This symbolizes the very reason why we fight this war with Vlaakith,” Lae’zel speaks softly, offering you a smile. “I think Orpheus will find this very interesting.”

You take a deep breath, but you can’t shake your thoughts of the red dragonborn. “He called me stupid a lot. Because I couldn’t remember.”

Astarion’s shoulders tense, but he says nothing.

“But he could?” Lae’zel asks. 

“Yes.”

Lae’zel pauses, having to find her words. “His estate is in ash. We attempted to scout the area as much as possible, but the underground part of the palace is completely inaccessible.”

“You’re saying everything is gone?”

Lae’zel nods. “It’s hardly safe for anyone to go down there.”

You let your memories mull within you, trying to decide whether you should share. The past is so painful, and you knew it would hurt if you started to talk about it.

“He had so much stuff down there. He had been collecting for a long time,” You say as you walk over to lounge on Astarion’s daybed. It was luxurious and comfortable, but it was apparent it hadn’t been lived in. Astarion sat at your feet, putting your bottom half in his lap. You think this position may be a little intimate to be doing in front of Lae’zel, but you know Astarion only means to hold you in some way. He sighs as he unlaces your shoes (annoyed after having just laced them for you), revealing your freshly polished toes, one hand resting at the arch of your foot, the other wrapped around your calf. 

Astarion had given you the pedicure himself. The job wasn’t quite perfect, but he thought you looked pretty regardless. “You’re so perfect.”

Lae’zel sits at Astarion’s desk, crossing her arms, getting down to business. If she didn’t stop this sappy love fest, it would never end. “We will have more time for a reunion later. The others who remained at the crèche have already made their way to Fort Lash’ki, a city nestled deep in the Astral.” 

“We won’t be returning to the Crystalline Spire?” You ask as you lightly kick at Astarion, who has run his finger up your foot teasingly, trying to make you smile again. When you finally relent, flashing him your fangs as you laugh, Lae’zel is relieved to see Astarion’s own smile. But it made her realize that Astarion truly doesn’t see anyone but you, and you hardly would see anyone but him, reminding her of the past: of when she first realized you were no longer hers. 

Lae’zel glares at Astarion for failing to tell you. She expected this, but it irritates her just the same. “No. The plan was to fly to the Astral after the banquet, and there have been many moons since then.”

“But –“ Astarion begins.

“But you demand that we cannot leave until we find some solution for the silver, I know.”

“And there’s also another little kink in our plan,” Astarion’s smirk nearly fails him. 

Your eyes are shifting to your right leg. Angel’s influence has you staring at it. Is this an offer? Before Astarion can continue, you blurt,“I think we should ask Angel to remove it.”

Lae’zel releases the greatest sigh known to man. “Explain.”

****

The meeting with Lae’zel took more out of you than you were willing to admit, but Astarion notices, pushing back your reunion with your warriors, the two of you retreating to your bedroom once more. 

“My leg burns,” You say; you can’t help but look at Astarion expectantly, as if he has the magic key to your freedom from pain. “It hurts.”

“I know, my love. I’m sorry,” Astarion lays you down, bringing you some wine to take off the edge. “You’ve moved it a lot today. Just try to rest for now.”

Astarion gathers you in his arms, which you joyously accept, the warmth of his body sending shivers down your spine. The two of you are like puzzle pieces, fitting together perfectly as you both reach a level of comfort that could only be achieved with one another. You sit in silence for a while; Astarion hums a tune to you, your eyes beginning to close as you nearly drift off. 

But your mind remains disturbed. “I’ve never felt more physical pain in my life than when I woke up with one on each limb.” But after just a beat, your courage fails you : “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Your voice comes out weak as Astarion brushes through your hair with his fingers, his nails lightly trailing against your skin. 

“That’s alright,” Astarion replies, his voice smooth and soft.

You turn over, facing him. The two of you lie down on your side, where you gaze deeply into his eyes for some time. You’re trying to read each other, to see into one another’s soul.

“I love you, Star.” You say, remembering how you spoke those words aloud before you fought Moth, not knowing if you would ever see your husband again. Astarion doesn’t try to hide the tears in his eyes, and you swipe a thumb across his cheek before popping it into your mouth, tasting the salt of his tears.

As you rest, Astarion finds himself unable to stop staring at the remaining silver band on your body. He tries to busy himself, massaging you or reading to you throughout the day, but it bothers him to no end. One hand idly rubbing the arch of your foot, Astarion inspects the band closer, whispering a few spells to try to pinpoint the magic – nothing he and dozens of practiced wizards and healers hadn’t already tried before. 

Later, after a quiet dinner, Astarion reads to you before you fall back to sleep. The sensation of the constant burning is exhausting to you, and you were sleeping far more than a vampire should.

Astarion has laid out his studies on the floor of your bedroom, a couch cushion as a seat as he sorts through his best knowledge bases. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to focus on the task at hand: gathering what information he could on celestial contracts.

The kiss is part of the contract. Astarion knows that is fairly common, especially for a celestial hailing from the pleasure domain. Angel must get something from the kiss, Astarion knows. But the exchange of eyes. That can’t be common: self sacrifice is, but an exchange? 

The last of Astarion’s focus leaves him as you murmur something incoherent in your sleep, rolling over onto your back. Astarion jumps up from his cross legged position, sitting at the edge of your bed as he studies you. 

You had wanted to cover up during your visit with Lae’zel despite Astarion’s assurance of your beauty. But now, as Astarion watches you sleep, he was never more sure about your exquisite appearance.

You slept in just panties and one of Astarion’s old linen shirts. You had one leg out straight while the other was bent, resembling a ballerina. Adorable. Your hands were thrown above your head, having long abandoned your pillow. 

Astarion can’t help but slide his hand beneath your shirt, feeling your soft, supple skin, doing his best not to wake you. He pushes his nose into your hair, breathing in deeply, taking your scent in. He wants to taste your blood: he’s craving it, so deeply it makes his mouth water and his fangs ache with anticipation.

You stir, nuzzling into him further. Excited by your reciprocation, Astarion begins to pepper kisses on your face, careful not to bother, while also feeding that desire within him to make you his once again. Just knowing you were here to freely touch, to kiss, to hold. His cock is so hard it’s almost painful, and he wants to be enveloped in your wet, gummy walls. He knows you’d be so tight, so delicious, and he’s already imagining the smell of your arousal. 

But it had only been a few days since your triumph, still weak from the silver and the fright of it all. Astarion taking you during the heat of your arrival was one thing, but he knew this was another. Trying to take you now would be wrong of him…wouldn’t it?

Astarion fights his intrusive thoughts, the one that wants to open you up, force his way through to you. He imagines you fighting a great red beast away, only to be overpowered and taken. The other intrusive thought, the one where you are moaning, whimpering, coming for a handsome man, one far larger than Astarion himself, cuts into him almost just as deep.

His desire to dominate fills his entire being. Astarion blames his nature as your master as his hand comes to rest at the base of your throat, his other hand tangling in your hair. “I miss you, my love.”

His words are meant to rouse you, to wake you so that he could conquer your body. But when your eyes open, you’ve grabbed him, the two of you flying across the room as you bring him to the ground, your legs straddling his torso. Astarion hadn’t anticipated your movement but tried to protect you as much as he could, his own body hitting the ground with a loud thump. Your knees knocked into the marble, but Astarion saw no signs of pain in your eyes, only fury.

No. That isn’t right. Because he can see the sadness and pain within you, and it foamed so close to the edge that it was spilling over. Astarion begins using his words to calm you, because he was good at it, and he didn’t know how else to comfort you if you wouldn’t accept his touch or his cock.

“It’s me, you’re alright, I’m sorry I woke you, please calm down–”

You bare your fangs as you back away from him, your eyes darting wildly around the bedroom before you swiftly turn into a bat. You fly towards the open balcony, Astarion following you in tow. 

****

Masterlist

taglist: @viowolf

[lunar-serpentinite]

Hariharan Nalin Potter

Heir of House Potter

Faceclaim: Anirudh Pisharody

Hariharan Nalin Potter, commonly known as Harry and famously as the Boy-Who-Lived, is the eldest child and only son of the Potter family's Head couple Lily and James Potter and their husband Regulus Potter. He is the older brother by four years to a younger sister named Madhuri Potter, as well as the godson of Sirius Black and Sharanya Patil.

More information below the cut

What's in a Name?

Hariharan ஹரிஹரன்

— from the the fused Sattvika characterisation of Vishnu (Hari) and Shiva (Hara)

Hari – the one who takes away (sins)

Hara – Remover of sins

Nalin நளின்

— means close, abundance, pride; also a synonym for lotus

Follows the Evans tradition of naming their children after flowers

Also calls back to James’ middle name (Mooriyan, pride)

Picked by Regulus. In ancient Egypt, lotuses represent rebirth and the Sun and by god did he feel his life beginning anew the moment he laid eyes on baby Harry

The Snake With No Self-Preservation Instincts

When Harry entered Hogwarts at the age of 11, the Sorting Hat was torn between Gryffindor and Slytherin for him. Maybe even Ravenclaw if the Hat was feeling particularly experimental. In the end, the Hat put him in Slytherin, much to the delight of his baba Regulus.

Slytherin won the Hat over by just a small margin. In this universe, Harry was raised not with scorn nor contempt but with an overabundance of love and support. Many of the influential adults in his life inspired him to be as driven and goal-oriented as they are. Additionally, the inclusion of a third, Slytherin-to-the-core parent also influenced Harry's own personal choice in Houses.

Slytherins are also defined by their tendency to stick close to family traditions. Harry was raised completely immersed in his South Indian heritage of Tamil and Telugu and he's very proud of it. Thus he is completely dedicated to preserving and following the cultural and familial traditions he was raised with.

Finally, he has a brilliant and clever mind as well as a knack for leadership (regardless of how much he denies that himself). Growing in a house of love and positivity allowed Harry to fully lean into his gifts instead of focusing on survival. In this universe, Harry was allowed to shine and shine he did.

As per the hierarchy of Slytherin, Harry is naturally the most influential half-blood as the Boy-Who-lived and is considered by his half-blood and Muggleborn yearmates as their leader the same way the Purebloods consider Draco Malfoy theirs.

"You're a bloody Slytherin, why do you lack self-preservation?" "Maybe if you dig your pointy nose into my business some more, you'd find it."

One thing that does set Harry aside from his Slytherin cohorts is his apparent "lack of self-preservation". Sense of self-preservation is a signature Slytherin trait that is far outweighed by Harry's natural "saving people thing" that is apparently in every Potter's genes.

Harry simply doesn't hesitate to lend a hand whenever he sees that he could. He helps even when it is detrimental to himself, which gives him a sort of reputation as one of the more eccentric Slytherins of his year. This resulted in him gaining a close social circle that is composed of several non-Slytherins which is an unusual sight within the House that Keeps to Themselves.

Escaping from Death's Clutches

Harry's main claim to fame is his apparent survival from being hit by the Killing Curse at point blank when he was four years old. The incident was widely publicized by Voldemort himself who had kidnapped Harry as a child after years of failed attempts to pierce through the powerful wards of Nagaraja Hall. Voldemort had wanted to publicly execute Harry as punishment for his parents who had thrice defied him.

This backfired on the Dark Lord as not only did Harry survive his Killing Curse but the knockback from the protective Magics weakened Voldemort enough for a furious Lily Potter to land the killing blow on him, ending the First Wizarding War. Because of this, Harry and Lily share the title Lord Voldemort's Vanquisher, a title that both despise.

Harry sports a seemingly permanent lichtenberg scar above his left eye. According to all the Healers that have examined him, it may very well be the first and only known occurrence of a curse scar borne from being hit and surviving the Killing Curse. The scar runs deeper than it looks and has rendered Harry half-blind in his left eye.

He has little to no clear memories of the incident owing to how traumatic it was but the trauma has left its own imprints in him, namely his scar, partial blindness, and a certain discomfort whenever someone points a wand at him without any warning.

Collected Miscellany

Little bits of extra information/headcanons for him. This section will be updated from time to time.

As per the tradition of Nandhini's descendants, Harry is bonded to a boa constrictor and a Basilisk

Harry has Lily’s temper, James’ compassion, and Regulus’ pride

He has been said to be a promising talent in flying, combat magic, and transfiguration. He claims to have an “easier time” at performing wandless magic. He was also personally tutored by his grandmother Euphemia in the art of pearl-based magic.

Excels in the Seeker position but does pretty okay in other positions.

Produced a corporeal Patronus at age 13. His Patronus is an Indian sambar stag which is the same as his appa James

While he’s absolutely brilliant in the kitchen, he unfortunately didn’t inherit Lily’s talent at Potions.

This is because he was taught how to cook before he was taught how to brew. Potions requires precision and accuracy but he’s used to measuring ingredients “by heart, soul, vibes and the voice of his ancestor whispering in his ears”.

He’s surprisingly good at anything related to snakes, be it brewing antivenom potions or working with venom or any snake-sourced parts

Aside from English, Harry is fluent in Tamil and Telugu, and conversational in Sanskrit, Middle Tamil, and Classical Sanskrit. Regulus is teaching him and Madhuri Masri (Egyptian Arabic) and Demotic (a very, very late descendant of Ancient Egyptian).

Childhood friends with Ron Weasley since they were babies through the friendship of Lily and Molly

He is also friends with the rest of the Weasley siblings by extension

Also friends with the other children of the Magical Indian diaspora families, notably his godsiblings the Patil twins Padma and Parvati

Met Hermione Granger at King’s Cross Station where his mother befriended her mother, Monica Granger. Hermione then became Lily's protege and Hermione would spend a portion of her holidays at Nagaraja Hall

Met Draco Malfoy as a baby during the wedding of his parents to Regulus Black and made him cry

Particularly fond of Luna Lovegood who he met at a young age as she was the daughter of Pandora Lovegood, who was friends with Lily

Buddies with Neville Longbottom who is the son of Alice Longbottom, who is also friends with Lily

Paired with Blaise Zabini in Potions so they are within the acquaintances to casual friends range

Spent his childhood going back and forth between the Potter’s Nagaraja Hall and the House of Serpents

More information on the Descendants of Nandhini / the Potters Back to the family directory of this AU

Please feel 100% free to drop some comments in the reblogs, replies, my askbox etc. ! 🥰🫶

[pirunika]

Eos Odessa : The stalwart and melancholic mage who was known to be a bounty hunter. There are many rumors surrounding this complex character. And not all pleasant.

Description: Sturdy looking and curvy, Eos is rather short with large brown eyes, cold porcelain skin and a faintly doll-like face, pink cheeked and sharp featured. She has fine black hair that is notoriously long and ears that tend to stick out. Often supports a forlorn expression even if she's happy. Her features are understated yet warm.

finally done!!! İ edited this template a lot but i think thats It. More about her + art ⤵️ :')

Basically. Eos acts and talks so compassionate but she believes she does those things because its her duty or to keep up appearances...and in fact her real thoughts ARE more angry than what she reveals but she also does like doing these good deeds for others and is a compassionate woman by nature.

She changed her first name when she entered the Circle because she didn't want to hear it anymore... At this point she has complicated feelings about her last name too so in the end likely to take Blade's name and confuse everyone because of their... or her future rank. Maybe she can go by Commander Eos lol

Actually was interested in Tallys first but her no relationship thing made her like :/// so it didn't work but i imagine Tallys keeps this information in her mind lol totally not thinking she'll be immortal due [redacted] & end up with Tallys after everyone's gone. Nope. They likely hooked up once.

Hooked up with Prihine too... they have.... more common grounds than what the story canon™ says for Eos.

At times can pass as a Norm.

Has a horse, named Phaeton - a wedding gift from her (deceased) husband... Though not a Familiar they had a unique bond and can see her returned by during the story...

Owns very few items, very much minimalist to extreme (with the exception of weapons and clothes & things related to clothes as looks can also be used as weapons). Like 'who needs a bed-frame' degree. She doesn't even like gifts! (though this is also bc she dislikes Surprises of any kind...)

Has one of those dark and wood rooms at the headquarters with her bed literally on the ground, it's a tad intimidating as she painted the walls dark and the only decorations are... candles (you gotta have candles as a witch priestess™...) Her bed is the comfiest thing ever though. Like a nest.

Speaking of beds she is a very deep sleeper... Like you need to shake her roughly or throw some water. So her door will usually be unlocked. Obviously suffers from sleeping problems, in fact the reason she removed her bedpost is because she kept rolling to the floor and hurting herself. Tends to be calmer if she sleeps with someone so she shares her bed with other Shepherds a lot or like slips into their beds...

Especially Trouble who also has the warmth thing going on for him compared to the tiny ice block that is Eos. This leads to her being shipped with...just about everyone. Doesn't help that she's very touchy feely too. (and very comfortable with nudity...)

She cleans everything like crazy all the time because she is afraid of getting ill seeing as magical healing don't work on her. Her immune system is already not so good.

So she always had an interest in medicine, herbalism, first-aid, magic healing, healing... ('healing' the dead was a passion project of hers in the Circle, attracting and scaring Red both in the process...)

Needs glasses. But won't get them...unless maybe someone gifts it Sees far ahead perfectly, in fact - exceptionally good, contributing to her skills as a sniper but she can barely see up close... Her handwriting is a mess and she keeps getting headaches... With Shery they make 1 good eyesight actually ~ how romantic ~

Very sensitive to cold, even though she lived in one of the coldest regions for a time she never got used to it. Dislikes rain/snow. Had at least one almost froze to death experience magical or otherwise... Other other hand she loves hot weather and oddly enough does not get sunburns!

Favourite food/drink -> thought abt this a lot for no reason lol so it makes most sense for her to like a simple roasted meat and bread. Pickled/raw veggies, dried fish, rice. Things you can have on the road. That and various stews. Hearty, warm and spiced. And for drinks and desserts too though she doesn't have a sweet tooth.

Owns a Moon-belt ~

Either clad from neck to toe in layers OR... very exposed, as fitting to her character as a woman of extremes. Makes a lot of her own clothes and uses them to 'get in role' in a way. Has a skill of hiding far too many stuff in her layers. Wears gloves a lot --- both to hide her scarred hands and avoid touching people (magical reasons) and loves hats but nowadays can rarely find time to be fashionable :/ Favors white, red and black the most. first college from Black Desert Mobile, the other is Romance Club!

Woe random mood-board be upon ye sans tattoos....i'm lazy...

[lily-drake]

The Demon's Queen

Chapter 17

First <> Previous

Mari is 18 Damian is 19

“Okay, let's start the trimonthly meeting,” Superman announced from the head of the table.  The Watchtower was filled with the founding members of the Justice League to go over everything that had happened in the last three months, which was a lot.  

“Well let’s begin with the most major events,” Batman grumbled, “There were four mass scale alien invasions that involved the whole League plus Young Justice.”

“Thankfully we were able to solve two of them with civil treaty talk,” Wonder Woman chimed in, a gentle smile on her lips as she reminisced on the events.  

“The other two had to be captured which resulted in the mass destruction of New York, New Jersey, Missouri, California, and Oregon,” Black Carny listed, “from there we had to help pay for reconstruction.  Batman, how much did we have to pay?”

Batman gave the whole League his normal flat look, seemingly unimpressed with the group.  “$1.6 billion,” he growled, scowling at the rest of the members, most of which didn’t meet his gaze.

“Right!”  Superman exclaimed.  “We’ll go over the cost of everything at the end.  Next on the agenda is reconnaissance missions and what we’ve learned.”

“The Young Justice team has gone on nearly fifteen missions in the past three months, most of which were successful.  From their hard work we were able to prevent five Kobra-Venom shipments,” Flash began to quickly list off, “having skimmed the reports, the few that went off the rails were quickly resolved and handled by other members of the JLA.  Going along those lines it was also discovered tha-”

A loud ringing went off and everyone looked back at Superman with a blank stare. “Sorry everyone, it’s one of my emergency lines that I give to citizens, let me juuust-oh.”  After Superman had removed the small device his face fell from his usual cheery demeanor into something more tired and solemn.  “It’s Mrs. Dupain-Cheng again.”

There were a few frustrated sighs from around the room, others simply shaking their heads in exasperation.  As of today it had been one full year since one Marinette Dupain-Cheng had officially gone missing.  She and her husband had been calling them every few weeks demanding updates, but the truth was that they hadn’t found anything.  Even when Tim had thought he had gotten a lead, it ended up falling flat as there was nothing they could deduce purely from black clothes.

Not only that, but ever since her disappearance, there hasn’t been a single magical attack, which has made looking for her a lower priority.  It wasn’t that they wanted her to stay missing or for a lack of scouting, but the matter of fact was that they were dealing with bigger active threats on a day-to-day basis, and there were simply no clues as to where she could be.  They let the message go to voicemail and continued on the meeting with a more sober tone.

__________

Ladybug and Chat Noir Were the Villains All Along–An Informative Article About the Truth Behind Akuma Attacks and the “Heroes” Who “Protected” Paris.

16:24 Written by: J. Jona Jámesón (previously hosted on Wild Safari)  & Raine Coffee Chaos

It has now been officially one year since Paris’ so-called “heroes” have vanished, along with the emotional terrorist known as Hawkmoth.  The last sighting of the heroes was during the last battle with the Akumatized victim known as The Reaper, a twelve-year-old boy that has chosen to remain anonymous.  

In that last battle, the video was captured of the Akuma, The Reaper, having the ability to take the lives of any person or being that came near their scythe or made direct eye contact.  Other videos taken by popular blogger, Alya Césaire, showed that both of our heroes greatly struggled with this Akuma, where Chat Noir once more fell victim to it, and once more Ladybug barely succeeded on her own.  Since the end of that battle both our heroes have simply disappeared along with the villain that brought them to light in the first place; which begs the question: were they ever heroes to begin with?

*video of final akuma attack from “The Ladyblog” filmed by Alya Césaire*

Take that masked menace the Flash, for example.  He presents himself as a protector of the masses with his super speed, but has a suspiciously cordial relationship with his ‘Rogues gallery’. These villains are known to have a moral code, avoiding unnecessary harm to innocents and children while committing their various nefarious crimes. It’s more than likely that they’re in cahoots with Flash; pulling off their various stunts with him acting as the “hero”.  Making it so that the police cannot properly do their jobs. He is wrongly adored by the unsuspecting masses in Central City, even having a museum! Perhaps he cooperates with the Rogues in a desire for attention and infamy! 

However, just as people worship the Flash, the people of Paris worship Ladybug and Chat Noir.  And now that Parisians are no longer afraid to talk about the atrocities inflicted on them, it has been widely speculated the heroes that Parisians so heavily relied on were mere children ! If we study the very first video taken of Ladybug and Chat Noir five years ago compared to the most current video of them, it is obvious that the both of them had grown and matured at the same rate as an average teenager.  A set of teenagers could never accomplish what Ladybug and Chat Noir have done on their own! There must have been someone behind the scenes.

*Photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir side-by-side during Stone Heart right next to an image of Ladybug and Chat Noir side-by-side during The Reaper *

Who’s to say that, in the end, these kids were not in fact working with Hawkmoth the entire time? Their job: to create mass fear and panic among the citizens of Paris so that everyone would fear for the safety of themselves and the children, who were most at risk if you look at the Akuma, Gigantitan, who was only 5 months when first akumatized, and was targeted nearly 18x after through the years for minuscule, child-like frustrations.  

From this prolonged fear-epidemic, studies have shown a mass decrease in mental health and an extreme increase in the unhealthy coping skill of suppressing emotions so as not to be a target.  This in turn has led to a massive increase of people searching for and spending on therapists, where there is a shortage of them in Paris. Commonly referred to as the ‘Captive Hearts Epidemic’. And with the government being unwilling to bring in more from outside the city, and France as a whole unwilling to bring more in from out of the country, it is not hard to believe that this was a ruse for people to spend more money to big Healthcare Companies.  We have already seen time and time again that Mayor Bourgeois is a corrupt politician only interested in putting more euros in his own private account.  It is not hard to believe that he paid off these children and mysterious entities to terrorize the city into buying higher and more expensive health plans, especially since any damage done by these so-called heroes–rather conveniently–just magically disappears; so he never has to worry about paying for any reconstruction.  

This war has gone on for over five years without end.  The very sudden disappearance of Paris’ heroes and villains without so much as a warning is far too suspicious.  It makes no sense as Ladybug and Chat Noir have had no trouble making public appearances and taking interviews.  It’s obvious they care about how they are portrayed through the media, so why disappear without telling anyone unless they were caught and forced to give it up? Are we truly in the clear, or are we just coming home to a peaceful disaster? 

17:07 RenaRougeOfficial:

How dare you make up such blatant lies and falsehoods!  Ladybug and Chat have defended and rescued our people every day, putting aside everything in their lives for us. 

Instead of trying to vilify them, why not think of the actual reason they disappeared.  Perhaps they defeated Hawkmoth and decided to leave the scene to live in peace.  Or maybe they got injured when defeating Hawkmoth and didn’t want anyone to know.  Or perhaps it’s because 

“Ohhh, that’s a good one Alya, here add this,” Adrien jumped in, startling Alya from her rant filled with righteous fury.  She was forcefully pushed aside as Adrien began to type on the keyboard, adding to her rant.

you are just lacking in brain cells.  Ladybug and Chat Noir risked their lives every single day so that this city, this world even, could continue on.  They put the world on their shoulders knowing that if they failed then the universe itself could have been destroyed.  Stop trying to destroy the heroes' reputations simply because you want clicks and views.

“And, send!”  Alya announced, slamming her finger on the button.  “Now, onto the next one,” she declared while opening a new tab.

“Okay, that’s enough you two,” Nino called out.

“Oh come on Nino!  Just one more,” his girlfriend begged.

“You said that five articles ago.  I’ve only tolerated you two doing this for so long because of the day.  But if you keep going we’re gonna be late,” Nino barged in, powering off the computer before either could do much as protest.  

Adrien and Alya looked away from Nino, a deep sadness penetrating their hearts, the same sadness they had been trying to ignore all day, all year really.

Nino watched as Adrien rubbed at his finger, twisting a ring that was no longer there.  He had been an absolute wreck the day it had gone missing, saying that it was a parting gift from his mother.  Nino could tell he was lying, but didn’t pry as, at the time, it looked like he had just watched someone die.  And then with the news of a mysterious attacker stabbing both his father and Nathalie had both been stabbed in their own home and had nearly died of blood loss.  Even though he was a terrible dad, Nino didn’t think he deserved that .  And Marinette was still missing.  It felt as if everything was falling apart at the seams.

"Let's head over to the bakery.  Tom and Sabine are waiting for us," he whispered, turning away from his two friends so they wouldn't have to see his pain.

@The_Official_Ladyblog

The Truth of Paris’ Heroes: A Response to the Forgetful

22:34 Written by: Alya Cesaire

It has, unfortunately, come to my attention that there have been some doubts about the sincerity of our heroes and their intentions in fighting for our city. While my beliefs have personally never been shaken, I know that I was able to get to know the heroes on a much more personal level than most. The heroes were, as has been speculated, children. They never confirmed this to me, but I genuinely believe it to be true.

I believe that our heroes were in the same age range as myself, and as such, they were more comfortable opening up to me about the struggles they faced while they were saving our lives.

Ladybug used to cry to me, about how she had to lie to her family about who she was. About how she felt she was a bad friend for having to run away to fight a battle she never wanted to be a part of.

Chat Noir shared how isolated he felt. How he felt free in the suit compared to his life at home. How he had little to no support group to help share the burden of his secret.

They were indeed children, fighting in a war they had no reason to be fighting. They put their lives on the line every time there was an attack. They showed up for us without fail each and every time we needed them, and this is how we repay them?

This is how we thank them?

We come at them, with accusations and cruel assumptions in response to their sacrifices. They gave their very lives for Paris over and over again, and yet here they stand; accused of participating in the crimes they fought so desperately against. How is this fair to them?

How could we treat them this way?

I personally, would like to apologize. Not to Ladybug, the symbol of hope for Paris. Not to Chat Noir, the very definition of Loyalty. But to the people behind the mask. To the children behind the masks.

I’m sorry for how we have treated you, for the suspicion that has been cast upon you. For the doubts we have held as you held the very world on your shoulders. Thank you for always giving your life, for continuously fighting despite your own doubts, and for saving us every day without fail. I know better than anyone, that we did not deserve you.

I hope you find your peace, in the aftermath of Hawkmoth.

__________ Ever since her mission, things had changed in the base.  No longer were the other assassins skirting around her, giving her side glances, and weirdly enough, they were no longer ignoring her.  When she had first come back, Tomoe had kept her in the medical wing for three days, where during that time The Boy had come in to check on her wounds, before leaving without a word.  She had brushed it off as him wanting to make sure his prized possession was still capable of doing his dirty work, but there was something in his eyes she simply couldn’t place.

Then when she had left she could feel the eyes on her.  One of the members even gave her a bow of greeting.  

“Samiet 'anak dhahabt fi muhimat mae abn awa li'iinqadh baed al'atfali. eamil jid,” one of the others grunted.  It took her a moment, but she was able to mentally translate it to, Heard you went on a mission with the Jackals to rescue some kids.  Good work.   It made something in her feel warm.  Valued even.  The feeling lasted her the whole day.  But there was always a dark feeling in the back of her mind.  The reminder of what she was forced to do to free those kids haunting her day and night.

Her thoughts often wondered to the kids.  She had blacked out before she could even know what happened to them, but nobody knew, nobody except one person and she wasn’t going to go searching him out.  Granted she didn’t have to as he came to her.

Marinette had been reading the book Talia had given her–it was in Arabic so it took her a long time to translate making it a very slow read–but she had been reading it for so long that her head was starting to hurt.  Laying down on the small cot she stared at the beige ceiling, imaging the night sky.  As of her mission she had been less restricted, allowed to move more freely around the base.  Maybe she could use that to her advantage.  Setting the tome back on her small dresser.  The idea came with some risk, but at this point she was willing to take it.

Carefully sliding the dagger she was now allowed to keep into its sheath at her hip she exited her room, stalking through the halls on light feet.  Making sure that nobody noticed or followed her as she made her way to the stairs that lead to one of the towers that overlooked the base.  Slowly she went through the small trap door before closing it behind her.  There above her was the starry sky in all of its glory.  It was a warm night that carried a gentle breeze strong enough to brush her hair aside every so often.  The stars glowed brightly as the full moon shone down its ethereal light upon the whole mountain top.

From her perch she watched as the tall grass and wild flowers danced and bowed with the wind, listened to the sound of the night life playing around her, the feeling of being a mere spectator in this moment, the-

“What are you doing up here?”

Marinette nearly jumped out of her skin as she spun while pulling out her dagger in one swift move only to come face-to-face with The Boy.  She felt her grip tighten on the hilt of the blade, but didn’t move.

“I asked you a question,” he demanded blankly.

Her eyes narrowed, but slowly she stood from her stance while sheathing the dagger.  “I just wanted to see the stars.  Am I not allowed even after completing your mission?”

He didn’t respond, just stared her down, his green eyes almost glowing in the moonlight.  They stayed like that for a few minutes, staring into the others eyes before he broke the silence asking, “How are you faring?”  

The question took her by surprise.  How was she supposed to respond to that ?  “What do you mean?”  She questioned, crossing her arms in front of her.  

She watched as he slowly walked past her toward the wall, staring out at the base.  “I know that the first kill can be…onerous.”

Marinette stared at him like he had grown a second head, none of this made sense.  “Did you think I was going to kill myself?”

“No, however it is best to not dwell on those thoughts alone.”

“Well I was trying not to think about it right now, but as you so generously brought it up I guess I must spill my soul to you,” she replied sardonically.

“Tt.”

Marinette took a few steps away from him, watching him as she leaned against the stone railing.  His face never changed, always stoic, as if it were carved from stone.  His forest green eyes moved from side to side, scanning the area around him.  His hair was kept short, though the tips of his bangs brushed against his forehead as the wind continued to blow.  His shoulders tense, as if ready for a strike.

They stayed silent, minutes passing between them as they stared out the distance.  “Why me?”

She heard him sigh tiredly, not even looking at her as he spoke, “I already told you that.  I don’t like repeating myself.”

“No.  There is no way that you looked at me as Ladybug and me as Marinette and thought that I could ever be qualified to run this,” she stated, swinging her arm out at the end as if showcasing the base.

“You still doubt yourself,” he grunted, shaking his head disappointedly before turning to face her, looking her directly in her eyes.

“I will not repeat myself again, so listen closely, Marinette.  As Ladybug I saw your tenacity, bravery, strategic prowess, and dedication you held.  Even as Marinette you still held those exact traits, because even though you might have believed that you and Ladybug were two different people, the truth is that is simply not possible and you know it.  Even if you feel less confident you lead your class of fools with strength.  You never put yourself above your duty.  Even with the knowledge that you were killing yourself, you still took on the responsibility of ensuring the safety of your home.  I admire those traits, they are what make you a competent leader, and I believe that you would be an excellent asset in the League’s legacy.”  

Marinette stared at him in disbelief, brows furrowing as she replayed his words in her mind.  “I’m not just some asset you can use for your games!  Have you forgotten that I’m a person too?”

“Of course you are, I have never stated that you are not,” he huffed, a brow lifting as he spoke.

“Yes you did!  You have since the day I met you!  You only think of me as some sort of weapon, just another tool you can use.  Well I’m not a tool!  I only saved those kids because it was the right thing to do!  But you don’t even care, do you?  If you did, then those kids would be somewhere safe!”

“They are safe!  Each of them were returned to their families,” he stated firmly, stopping Marinette in her rant.  It was the first time she had heard him show any emotion in his voice.  “And those without a family were given the choice to either join the League and learn to fight for themselves or be sent to safe foster homes where they would be protected from being put in such a situation ever again.”

Marinette stared at him in awe, she hadn’t expected that.  She had truly thought that he would have forced all of the kids to join like he had her, or he would have hid them away somewhere else to keep them quiet.

“Then why didn’t I get a choice?!”  She yelled, tears of frustration pricking at her eyes, “Why has everyone here gotten a choice but me?”

Here he finally hesitated, turning his head away with furrowed brows.  They stood there for many moments, Marinette trying to catch her breath as her shoulders remained tense.

“It’s late…”

“Is that all you have to say?!  You can’t even answer this one, simple question?”

“You should go back to bed.”  And with those final words he retreated back down into the base leaving a simmering Marinette atop the parapet.

“HA!  That was real smooth, Lover Boy,” Plagg goaded as Damian walked briskly through the halls.

“What are you going on about?” Damian demanded angrily as he snatched the pocket sized god out of his hair.  How the infernal beast was able to hide there so often without his notice he still could not discover.

Plagg gave him a large Cheshire grin as he stared up at the boy, “I’ve seen a lot of fighting in my life, but nothing compares to these.”

Damian rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh.  Sure he admired Marinette and her tenacity, but she was just so infuriating!  She was obstinate, brash, an idealist, and argumentative.  There was always a blazing fire behind her sapphire eyes, always alight with the need to prove herself.  It was as aggravating as it was endearing.

Shoving the small, laughing god into one of his hidden pockets he entered his rooms and tried to push away the question he could not answer that echoed in his mind.

“Can you believe him, TIkki?!  First he demands I answer his question then he refuses to answer mine, and not only that but he runs away!  Can you believe that Tikki?!”  Marinette turned to her right looking up in the air expecting to see her small red and black friend, but was met with nothing.  Marinette clenched her teeth in frustration, it’d been over a year now and she still believed her kwamii was still with her.  It’d been over a year, but it’d been nearly five years before they had ever been truly separated in such a way.  Marinette didn’t know if she’d ever get used to the emptiness of the air, the knowledge that she was truly alone.

Marinette stared out over the base once more, watching the flicker of the sconces that lined every wall.  She couldn't help but think back to his face, the way he finally showed her some emotion.  The storm in his dark emerald green eyes before he looked away from her, the way the moon cast shadows over his carmel skin and his sharp, stunned features.  The way the wind blew his bangs across his forehead without his notice.  In the end, she couldn’t help but loathe him.  

She hated his pride, his stubbornness, his stoicness, his skill, his ambition.  But if she wanted to escape from here, she would need to become as good as- No.  She would need to become better than him.  Because even if she escaped without that skill, he would just come back for her and she wouldn’t stand a chance.

Her mind wandered back to the last conversation she had with Talia before Talia left on her own mission.

“Have you been studying the text,” Talia asked her calmly.

“I have.  It’s in Arabic though, so it’s been difficult at times to get through.”

Talia gave her a warm smile, “Very good, Marinette.  You’re doing well.”  Her words warmed her chest, and Marinette couldn’t stop a smile of her own at the praise.  “Have you been able to practice what you’ve learned thus far?” 

Marinette’s smile fell, “No, I haven’t even figured out how to activate that sort of power, I don’t even think I can.”

“Tch.  That sort of thinking is the reason you have not advanced,” she paused for a moment before bending slightly to be eye level with her and placed her hands atop Marinette's shoulders.  “I have to leave for a few months, but when I return I hope to train you more in this power, however, you will have to seek me out.  I can not help you unless you want to be helped, so I leave this choice to you.”  

Marinette couldn’t stop the tears that welled in her eyes.  A choice, she finally had a choice!  She hadn’t had one of those in so long.  She didn’t get a choice to be Ladybug, didn’t get a choice when it came to Chat’s flirtations, didn’t get a choice to become the guardian, didn’t get a choice when it came to helping her class, she never really got to choose anything; until now.  She finally had a choice . 

“Thank you, My Lady,” she said softly, bowing her head in respect.

“But of course child,” Talia whispered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Marinette’s ear, “Be strong.”  And with those parting words, Talia disappeared into the shadows.

Talia had been back on the base for a few weeks now, but Marinette hadn’t approached her for the offered lessons.  She hadn’t pressured her, in fact she hadn’t even brought it up since even during their sparse training sessions.  

If she wanted to escape The League of Assassins, she would need an advantage.  She would need to know or have something that would make it so that if Damian did come after her, he wouldn't be able to touch her.  With that thought in mind, she finally made up her mind.  Tomorrow she would approach Talia and accept the lessons.

Next

Thank you @the-coffee-fandom, Sage, and Worried_Safari on the maribat discord for helping me out with this!

Taglist:

@aespades @adrestar @astrynyx @doll246 @queenz-z @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin @seraphichana @miraculous-ninja @dorkus-minimus @mysticsoulgirl @ritacrow-blog @snow-leopard-777 @fidget-eep @sometandomstuff333 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @shreeing @achaoticmess1 @liquid-luck-00 @buginetye @stainedglassm @prettylittlebutterflie @laurcad123 @iloontjeboontje @heartsong18 @raeuberprinzessin @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @jennifer-rose123 @moon5608 @corporeal-terrestrial @skitarii-alpha-c6-555 @saltysugarysembei @phantom120 @kking13 @depressed-bitchy-demon @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @iamablinkmarvelarmy @fleursroses @buginetye @humanoid606 @ev-cupcake @blackroserelina @rainbowbunny0159 @the-ace-reader @humanoid606 @taewinterbear95 @blueberrygeniejam @alex-rebecca-pearce @neulosfantacyworld @devilbunny612 @boredteen19 @agentxx92 @animegirlweeb @geminis93 @thatquirkydancer

[obsessedwithtoomanythings]

You Save Me, I Save You

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: mentions of child removal for the safety of the child, the bad guy steals the reader as a baby in revenge, Leon is injured badly. Reader gets yelled at. No beta, we die like writers.

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: This story is HEAVILY inspired by Rapunzel and Tangled but has no magic or things like that. It takes place around the same era though. I'm kind of obsessed with Knight Leon Kennedy lately, so here it is, probably the first of many stories with Sir Leon Kennedy.

Once upon a time… You know what, no. We’re not starting this story with that. We’re going to start it right.

Carman Parrish was a nasty woman. Or at least, she is now. When Carman was younger, about 20 years ago, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. She gave her a name to suit the beauty she believed her daughter would grow into. Shortly after the grueling task of labor, she went to the market to retrieve some food for herself. After all, with the death of her husband just two months prior, she had no one to care for her or her sweet child. Fearing a child crying would disturb the other market-goers, she left the child tucked snuggly into her crib made of fallen tree branches. She was only gone for a mere hour.

When Carman returned, the palace guards were inside, holding her sweet babe close to their chests, still swaddled in her pink blanket made of old cloth.

“Give me my daughter,” she cried, lunging for the man holding her precious child. He reeled back, cradling the innocent bundle. The guards were on her in moments, holding her in place as she cried out.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, we entered the home when we heard your daughter screaming. She sounded as if she was being tortured, and we were shocked when we found her alone in the home. She is being taken into the kingdom’s care, for you are clearly unfit to care for this small babe,” he spoke with such conviction as if he wasn’t ripping her whole world from her fingers.

“Please, she’s all I have left! Please don’t take my light!” Her words echoed through the empty home, the guards walking out, taking her light and happiness with them, swaddled in light pink blankets.

Years later, the Queen gave birth to a daughter as well. The whole kingdom rejoiced. All except for Carman Parrish. She seethed in anger. How can they be willing to remove her daughter from her care, yet rejoice when the wretched queen who stole her family away from her presents her sweet babe? Carman’s fury only grew, boiling and festering until one moment, a moment of temporary insanity, she found herself inside the castle, staring at the sweet sleeping child. ‘She is as lovely as my daughter,’ Carman thought to herself, before wrapping her arms around the child. Before carrying her out into the night. Before hiding her away in a cottage far away from the light of the kingdom, or even the outlying villages.

Before she found the tower, hiking up the stairs and finding nothing but a refuge for her and her new daughter.

“You are beautiful, my sweet child. And a child as beautiful as you deserves a beautiful name.” So she named her after her daughter who was stolen away in the night. She had found her new light.

ONE

The Girl Locked In The Tower

“Oh my child, I have returned!” Mother calls from the bottom of the long winding staircase.

“Mother!” I yelp, darting towards the door as it swings open. I throw myself into her embrace, cautious not to push her back down the stairs with the force of my body colliding with hers. “You’re back!”

She laughs lightly, her arms tight around my shoulders, her black locks tickling my nose.

“I’m back, my light. How are things coming along?” She asks as her eyes scan the walls along the main room.

“They are going well,” I say, shifting so she can walk into the room and allow her eyes to drift over the newly cleaned space.

“That looks new,” she says, pride laced in her tone at the new painting that decorates the wall. The greens and browns of the forest greet her, swirls of yellow mimicking sunlight breaking between the branches. “How on earth did you make it look so realistic, my dear?” She asks. I can tell she thinks, if only for a moment, that I modeled it after real life.

“There was a picture of the woods in one of the books you brought me. I thought it was beautiful.”

“Ah, well it looks lovely, darling.” A sigh accompanied by her shoulders dropping just enough for my eyes to notice. Relief. She sets her basket on the table, beginning to remove ingredients for what will inevitably be supper, and I find myself inching closer and closer, my mind swirling with thoughts of trees, oceans, towns, fields. I take a deep steadying breath.

“Mother?”

“Yes, my little light?” She responds as her arm moves swiftly with the knife, cutting the vegetables.

“Tomorrow is my birthday,” I say, innocently.

“I am aware. Did you give thought to what you wanted this year?”

“I did,” I mumble.

“Sweetheart, don’t be obtuse,” She says, turning on her heel to look at my frame as I practically shake out of fear. “Just tell me what it is, darling. I could never be upset with you.”

“I want to go outside,” I say with every ounce of my courage I have been building for days, weeks even. At her silence, I continue, gesturing to the paintings of landscapes that decorate the walls. “I want to see the woods from the books you’ve brought. I want to smell the salty sea air of the ocean. I want to-”

“Stop.” Her words halt my thoughts, eyes immediately finding hers only to find a fire raging in her green eyes.

“But mother-”

“I. Said. Stop.” Venom. That’s all there is left in each sound that leaves her lips. “How many times have I told you that you are not leaving this tower? The outside world is-”

“Dangerous. I know. But if you were with me, I’d be safe, right?” I ask, trying to find a glimmer of hope in her rejection. Unsuccessfully, I might add.

“No. You wouldn’t be. I can barely protect myself half the time, let alone both of us.”

“But-”

“How many times must I repeat myself?!” She shouts, knife coming down to lodge in the wood of the table with a loud splintering sound. I recoil, anxiety pulsing through my veins. She takes in my fear and sighs heavily. “My light, I cannot watch you be blown out like a candle. You are safe here.” I nod mutely, willing the tears not to spill from my eyes. She pulls me into a tight embrace. “I love you too much to let the world destroy you.”

“Yes, Mother,” I nod against her chest, feeling nothing but defeat. My shoulders sag in disappointment, in sadness.

“Why not go get washed up for supper?” She asks, pulling back to place her hands tenderly on my shoulders. She reaches for my chin, bringing my eyes up to hers. “Then I will give you the books I’ve brought you.”

Supper passes without a hiccup. I watch in dejection as mother walks out the door, clicking the lock into place before her boots echo down the stairs. Step, step, step, step until there is no more sound. Glancing out the window, I see her raise her arm in a wave. I return the gesture before beginning to prepare myself for bed.

Slipping out of the pale blue dress that barely reaches my shins, I move to my vanity, not admiring, but at the very least observing the form that looks back at me. Unmarred skin, delicate eyes, a nose. It’s hard to notice anything particularly enchanting about my own body, but mother speaks as if I am the most beautiful creature in the land, that that is the reason I can’t leave. ‘The monsters of the world would pick you apart piece by piece,’ she would say with a scowl. My undergarments cover my breasts, not that they are anything special. I once asked mother if she could bring me a book on the body, wanting to understand the reasons why I have the parts that I do, and how they work. She only scoffed, insisting that no one knows why we have the parts we do. Turning away from the mirror in distaste, I slip into my nightgown before brushing my hair gently away from my face. The silky strands run between my fingers easily, thankful for the washtub and sweet-smelling soap mother brings (from a land far away, she claims). Slipping under my covers, resting my head against the pillows as I glare up into the ceiling. The stars I painted there usually bring comfort, but not tonight. Tonight they only remind me of what I have yet to see. What I will never see. Finally allowing the tears to slip from my eyes, I turn, sobbing uncharacteristically loud into the pillows until they are damp with tears and my exhaustion overtakes me. I will never leave this tower.

Sir Leon Kennedy

The wind whipped through my hair, Ace carrying me through the trees easily, knowing we have done this song and dance multiple times before. The sound travels quickly as I lose sight of my men behind me, their voices crying out my name, but I refuse to stop. I’m too close to catching him now. The criminal known as Samael Doyle finally falls into view, his frame large, but entirely unable to outrun a beast such as Ace. Cutting him off in a clearing of trees, I leap from my black-haired steed, sword drawn.

“Samael Doyle, you are under arrest by the order of the palace law for thievery,” I say, a smirk forming across my lips. “Return your stolen goods, and I’ll think about going easy on you.”

“Sir Kennedy. How good to finally meet you,” he says, brown eyes shimmering with challenging intent. “Your reputation proceeds you, I see.” He mutters under his breath, flipping his blonde hair to the side to remove it from his vision.

“I would say thank you, but that means nothing, coming from a criminal like you.” His eyes still sparkle, a sly grin plastered to his features, as if he’s won. “Enough games Doyle. Give me the crown, and maybe I won’t end your life right here and now.”

“The orders are to bring me in, you wouldn’t want to drag me,” he smirks, although it quickly falls at my laughter.

“Actually, they don’t care if we bring you in dead or alive. But we will be bringing you in.” My sword is poised to strike, refusing to lose sight of him. Again.

“Well, unfortunately for you, Sir Kennedy, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Is that right?”

The sound of what I assume is a bow being released is the first thing I notice, before I feel a stabbing pain shoot through my left side and I drop to my knees in agony. My teeth are gritted tightly together, holding in a cry as I glance down and see the arrow lodged in my side. I look up as I hear Samael’s maniacal laughter at my pain as he walks up towards my crumbled frame, his fingers landing under my chin and yanking my face until he is staring into my eyes.

“You shouldn’t have split off so far from your men, Sir Kennedy,” he chuckles as he lets go, the weight of my body forcing me to crumble to the ground in a heap of messy limbs and bloodstained clothing. I can hear his footsteps retreating, my wobbly arms barely able to lift myself from the ground. I break into a sprint, or what I feel is a sprint, chasing the sounds of the woods being disturbed. It feels like hours of painful agony, my bloodstained hands leaving dirty smears on trees and the brush before I enter a clearing.

Is that a tower? I find myself wondering as I glance up at the structure in the dimming evening air. It must be where Doyle is hiding. The logic makes sense, but the entrance is concealed, so much so that even I can’t find it, especially in my hazy state. Guess the only way in is up. Climbing the outside of a tower while in my current state may not be the safest choice, but if Doyle is up there, I can return with reinforcements later on.

My fingers find purchase on the large stones that run along the whole base as I make my way, slowly but surely, up the sides. Finding myself almost slipping multiple times but refusing to give up, I pull myself up through the open window before I yell out.

“I know you’re in here Doyle!”

There is a sound of movement from up the small set of stairs, moving toward me and I grip my sword with shaky hands. Before I can find the source my vision blurs and I lose my balance, accidentally driving the sword into the wooden floor for stability.

“Who are you?” A woman’s voice asks, full of fear and terror. I think for a moment, and only a moment, I am in the wrong place. The room begins to spin painfully, and I can only make out a small figure dressed in a white gown before my vision goes dark, and I feel my body hit the ground.

[niittinaatti]

Stuff about my @loominggaia ocs and fanfic stuff from the Discord

Here’s some LG fanfic-related stuff that I’ve talked about on the Discord server, and figured should also post here to make it easy to find.

The drawing is based on this meme:

These three probably aren’t actually in a polycule or anything I just felt like drawing this. I think Yue and Awesomeness have fucked at least once tho

Random facts about Yue

Her little fang sticks out because it started growing before the baby tooth came off and ended up going over it and now she refuses to get it fixed because it looks cool. This is based on me except mine is on the other side

She’s around 7’2” tall, and real skinny and flat-chested

Her favorite kingdom is the Unseelie Court, and would probably move there if it wasn’t so far from her birthplace (she dies a lot)

Her favorite food is nettle pancakes

If she’s in Umory-Ond and sees a blue-eye mushroom she’s gonna eat it no matter what

Her favorite animals are snakes and cone snails

She’s bi

The magnet staff is made of cobalt, nickel, and magic crystal

Her earrings aren’t symmetrical, she only has the diamond thing on the left side

She can change herself to a part bat form similar to Lily in that one post.

She was married to an entomologist once, but he died. Let’s call him Beetles (his original name was Beetle but idk if that’s too silly, so let's say it's a nickname) He studied bugs while his wife studied bigger animals nearby. Also Yue was a lot taller than him. She hasn’t remarried since, but has dated a few people.

She doesn’t like sweet food

She thinks zombies are cool, but doesn’t do necromancy since it’s illegal in most places. Loves Zareenite zombie movies

She’s ambidextrous

Doesn’t cut her nails, just bites them when they get long

Doesn’t like new clothes and gets most of them at thrift stores. Also doesn’t like overly fancy clothes, or heels since she’s already so tall

Her house basically looks like it’s decorated for Halloween all the time, with spooky decorations. She doesn’t live there much tho

Yue doesn’t just use illusion magic to turn her eyes red because she thinks illusions are lame and prefers “real” magic like transmutation. And she doesn’t transmutate them because I imagine it’d be really hard to transmutate your own eyes, like doing eye surgery on yourself with a mirror, and given how she fucked up Dr. Awesomeness’ eyes she’s not gonna risk it, and buying contacts is cheaper than hiring somebody else to do it. Especially since she’d have to do it again every time she dies.

About Vanella

My original versions of Vanella and Pakila had white hair (in fact Vanella was named Vanilla) but I changed it to black since they’re dworfs to have it make more sense that they live in Zareen. But like I said, Vanella wants to get transmutated to an elf and move to Mogdir, and since I’m so nostalgic for her old look, I decided to just make that canon. I can’t find a better drawing to save my life but she’d look something like this (warning: crappy old drawing)

And for some reason at some point I gave her an edgy spider tattoo that totally ruins her color scheme. And I’ll sort of bring that back too: Yue is the one doing the transmutation, and gives her an edgy spider tattoo as a prank because she finds Vanella annoying.

I think after Yue has transmutated Vanella and she notices the spider tattoo, Yue goes “I guess, spider, on your arm” and since she can’t lie, lets Vanella come to the conclusion that an actual spider got on her arm and got accidentally fused into her. Yue makes a vague sound that could be interpreted as “yes” and kicks out Vanella once she fails to produce a good enough monster trading card to convince her to remove it.

But you gotta understand, earlier Vanella asked Yue if she can call her Yue, Yue said “mmh” and Vanella immediately started calling her Huey-Dewey-Louie, referred to Mr. Garnet as “my eggs-husband, I call him that because he’s such an egghead, Gargleblaster” when telling how she got Yue’s contact, and sang an entire verse of Heads, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes when describing what she wants to get transmuted. Can you blame Yue

It’s actually a pretty good transmutation though, Vanella can do magic and everything. I imagine about on the level of a gaian made magical as an adult. She can deal with one edgy spider tattoo. The first spell she learns is an illusion to cover it up. Also, she’s shorter than average elves (Yue is not very good at making people tall), but she’s totally fine with that as she’s still taller than she’s used to.

The Looming Games

This is sort of a crack idea me and @darkwingphoenix came up with. Basically, every 4 years, 24 divines fight to the (temporary) death in the wilderness Hunger Games-style in this game funded by the World Athenaeum, and it’s televised by Zareen and shown all over the world, or re-enacted by actors in Nymph Pact territories because that’s funny.

There’s some who regularly compete in it, like Devajaya, Okatogg and Hulushka, and some occasionally attend. But since they can’t always get enough willing divines, sometimes they have to kidnap a few random divines and force them to attend for people’s entertainment. They get magic gems implanted in their necks that track their status and location, prevent them from killing themselves before the games, and explode Suicide Squad-style if they bring any Divine Executioners in. It’s a bit fucked up but that’s on brand for this world.

Misc

Since Dr. Awesomeness was born in Zareen I figure she actually looks Asian-ish, kinda like the canon minervae Mercy. I think she has those narrower eyes under the goggles (if we ignore that one old drawing). In a humanized AU maybe Mercy could be her mom.

Mr. Garnet is allergic to bees. And I’m not sure if Garnet is his first or last name.

Vanella loves food made of bugs, which is one of the reasons she wants to move to Mogdir

I have a lot of other old OCs that I’m thinking of loominggaiaizing, and the ones I mentioned on Discord were Pakila’s probably only friend Maleena (the green-haired girl with one arm) and annoyingly friendly popular girl Sineriina (blue hair and dark skin) who Pakila hates for no reason. Warning more crappy old drawings

I think I’ll make Sineriina a mermaid Aquarian abduction survivor who somehow became really popular for it despite being in Zareen, hence the blue hair, and Maleena just a human who dyes her hair. Btw Sineriina has a twin sister named Akamia not shown here, I think she’s also a mermaid since she has blue hair too, but she’s less annoying so Pakila is more chill with her.

[monstergasm]

Sillis Makes a Social Visit [+18] [Male!Minotaur x Fem!Dwarf] (Part 1)

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4

It was a cold morning in the Vayzen Forest on the side of the Blind Mountain. Sillis was taking a journey up to the gargantuan cabin that her favorite minotaur couple, The Soulviews, reside in. Although she was traveling alone in the woods the sound of the breeze moving the dying winter leaves gave her a sense of peace. She knew that the calmness of her nerves was temporary, however, as the purpose for her journey to the cabin was of a purely carnal desire. 

She had heard that Droz’kill, the wilder half of the minotaur couple, was away on a quest of sorts to win more treasure for his husband. Nysandros was the other minotaur who dwelled upon the mountain and he was a rather famous alchemist. He had used his various magical and mundane concoctions to alter his body in some absolutely fascinating ways: changing his genitals to that of the other sex, shifting his physique entirely to appear more feminine, and even transforming into entirely different beings. It was this husband she was on her way to see. Droz’kill knew that Sillis might visit when he was away of course. Nysandros and Droz’kill were fond of bedding other people and sometimes even sharing them in bed together. In their mixed culture and belief, it was considered something to strive for. 

Sillis continued to walk the winding path up to the cabin and took in the untouched beauty of the area for a time. The crisp air, the rustling trees, the sound of a babbling brook nearby, the groan of a massive oak tree, and the sound of chittering creatures in the brush. After taking in a deep breath she turned at last to the cabin door and knocked.

Nysandros was brewing a clear blue potion when he heard a knock on his front door. The particular pattern of the knock and the way it reverberated through the hallway meant it could only be his friend Sillis. He rose from his work and donned a robe made of some exotic animal's hide large enough to wrap his massive frame before strolling over to his front door. 

Upon opening it his eyes were greeted with the kind features of a short, dark-skinned dwarven woman with bright amber eyes and short black hair. Nysandros couldn’t help but gaze down at her chest, which was rather prominent in the tunic she had chosen. He even caught a glimpse of a familiar collar under her traveling scarf, with the leash itself presumably either tucked in the scarf or detached and folded in one of her pockets. As was intended by her dress he was already imagining how her breasts felt beneath his large hands. He also noted the hide pants that hugged her curves comfortably and found himself daydreaming about the feel of her legs wrapped around him. 

Sillis looked up at the nearly seven-foot-tall black and brown-haired minotaur that loomed before her. His features are calm and controlled despite his rather imposing build. His beard hairs were held together in a single large braid that extended down to his chest and his forward-facing horns were adorned with rings. He was in fact big and strong enough to lift her with one hand if he so desired and that alone excited her further. It took a great deal of restraint to not jump on him immediately and remove his massive robe. 

“Ah, it’s nice to see you again Sillis,” Nysandros said with a note of joy in his deep voice. “You as well Nysandros,” she said with her light highlands accent. 

They embraced as well as a six-foot-eight minotaur and a four-foot-tall dwarf possibly could. In doing so Sillis couldn't help but put her face against Nysandros’ member and even give a little peck over the robe covering where it was. She looked up at him with her bright amber eyes and smiled a large cheerful smile. Nysandros couldn’t help but notice the way her dark freckles seemed more prominent just under her eyes when she was looking up at him from his waist. 

Nysandros cleared his throat. “Would you care to come in?” As he motioned for Sillis to enter his house.

 She sauntered into the comfortable cabin and instantly felt the warmth of the hearth wash over her body.

 “Can I assume you already know why I’m here big fella?” She prodded teasingly at Nysandros. “Of course, your eagle flies far faster than you walk. I should also inform you 'big fella' is better used with Drozzy, Sillis, he is rather...large.” He said with a smile. “Oh I’m well aware just how big Drozzy is sweetie, I do everything I can to keep his cock from tearing me apart whenever he’s inside me.” “Maybe you shouldn’t have kept screaming for him to go deeper then? His tip alone is enough of a task for you is it not?” He said wryly with just a hint of pride. “Aye he’s more than a couple handful-” “I thought you preferred mouthfuls?” Nysandros said with a hearty chuckle. 

Sillis could feel her cheeks get hot as she remembered the time she told Droz’kill to finish in her throat. It was the first time she had worn the leash they gave her and wearing it had filled her with a greater craze for sex than ever before. When Droz came she had to cover her mouth with both hands to stop from making a mess of herself, but despite her best efforts, a good deal did find its way between her fingers and down her chin. Since then she had gotten better at swallowing but wasn’t sure if she could handle Droz finishing that deep in her throat just yet. 

All the same, she retorted, “oh so I suppose you could handle a mouthful of his stuff?” She barely had time to regret her question when Nysandros said, “oh you small adorable creature, of course, I can. Did you forget about the difference in size between us?” He patted her waist-height head for added effect. “Besides, even if I couldn’t on a particular day I have some of my elixirs that can help in more ways than one.” “Help how?” Sillis asked, not bothering to hide her curiosity. “Well throat relaxers for one, I have one that turns the stomach into a bottomless void for a time and even a portion of water-breathing to make sure I get every. Last. Drop.” With those final three words, Nysandros poked Sillis’ lips on each pause and smiled a large mischievous grin at her. 

“Did you come for more practice with your...throat muscles? I know you’re well aware that I’m the only one with a cock similar in size to my partner’s for miles around.” 

Sillis sat down on a couch covered in elk-skin to finally remove her boots and after a brief pause to take one off said, “You sure are eager today Nys, what if I just want to relax for a bit before we start getting down and dirty?” “Do you?” “Well no of course not.” She smiled, showing her perfect teeth that only an experienced apothecary could maintain. “I do however require a bath first, would you be a ‘Nys’ old cow and draw me a hot one while I remove my personal effects?” Nysandros couldn’t help but grin at Sillis’ words and let out an exaggerated bow. “Of course my lady, I would be oh so very honored." 

With that, he turned towards the washroom and began heating the basin with alchemical fire.

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Bought by a Shelby-10

Fanning flames

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 Chapter 10- Fanning flames.

“Look at your bird bones, you actually have gained some weight!” Her grandmother's reedy voice and light teasing was like balm to Letitia’s heart. Her arms were open ready to receive her granddaughter. She looked as overjoyed as the younger women felt.

The elder woman was deeply embedded in a Lee camp nearby. Her fire was roaring fiercely and several older windows sat around. Black madonna;s adorned them all. Lettie was glad to see her grandmother making friends. 

She’d practically hopped off her horse before she’d come to a full stop. 

Her long arms gathered the little old lady to her tightly. She held her for several minutes until the old woman smacked her back a bit harshly.

“I’m sorry Lettie, I like to breathe though.“ She scolded gently and grinned up at her favorite granddaughter. “Did you get my message?” She asked cryptically. 

“That dream was from you!? Thank god! Now what do I do?” Lettie sat down besides the crones and made herself comfortable while the women were filled in and plans began to hatch. 

_____________________________________________________________________

Lettie had no sooner made it through the door when she’d heard the phone ringing. She had to stick to the plan. She took her time removing her scarf and jacket. She carefully revoked the reddy crosses and dolls from her pocket, she hadn’t crushed them at all on the way home. She didn’t want to be careless now. 

They were spoken over by the wise women of the mountains Lettie had called home and the black patch Lee women. A curse or blessing depending on how her husband behaved. 

She knew he wouldn’t handle her strong personally well, so magic curses it was.

She hung the little woven spells over doorways all over the apartment. She stood back and admired her work, finally feeling at home here. 

She’d also replaced her tea while she’d been out. She had plans for his nightly tea as well. He’d be at her Mercy for the next week. She smiled. She couldn’t wait to remind Finn that mountain women were tougher and smarter than Birmingham women. 

The phone rang loud and shrill demanding her attention. She had no plans to answer. 

The house was filled with silence after four chimes. She knew he’d call back. She was going to take her time in the bath and play this out. 

As predicted he called four times, at least she suspected it was him. 

“Hello?” She patted her long blonde hair with a towel while she cradled the receivers uncomfortably against her ear and shoulder. She’d taken her time bathing enjoying salts and smells relaxing her chilled body. 

“Lettie, oh thank God! I called Tommy to send someone over to check on you. Where were you?” Finn’s voice was high and panicked. She could see the relife flooding his handsome face. 

“I was in the bath Finn.” She replied nonchalantly. She refused to be at his beck and call. 

“Did you…Lett, did you lose track of time. I told you how to wind the clock Lettie, did you forget.” She scoffed at his insinuation that she was a dumb little gypsy girl, incapable of learning his city things like clocks and fancy stoves. 

“No, I just got busy. I saw my grandmother today. Refilled my tea and went to the apothecary.” She wasn’t surprised when he’d cut her off. Finn wasn’t a patient man. She could see why Tommy thought him impulsive and young. 

Finn could be more but it would take time and life to grow him. 

“Lettie, you promised me you'd stay inside. Why did you break your word?” His accusation pissed her off. She hadn’t actually said she’d stay in. She knew prior to the discovery of the tablets, that she was looking forward to not being locked inside waiting for him to come home, like Finn Shelby’s little pet. 

“You know Finn, I found out a lot of little truths today.” She waited patiently for him to challenge her. She smiled like a hungry wolf when he’d risen to the occasion. 

“Truth? Truth about…what?” He was aware now of the shift in her. He sounded irritated, which he was easily prone to feel. 

“You see, I’m touched in my dreams, like my grandmother. I know you say it's just gypsy stuff so you probably have nothing to worry about….but I’ve been having dreams Finn. Dreams that I was unable to conceive and swallowing white rocks…” She heard him suck in his breath sharply, she had him.

“Then when I was out, remember I said I stopped in at the apothecary? A doctor dressed in white asked me if I’d like to refill my contraception tablets.” She paused her speech. She waited knowing he was processing her partial lie. Probably trying to come up with an excuse as to why he hadn’t told or or that it had been a mistake. He surprised her though.

“Lettie, I don’t like kids, honestly, and not even when I was one did I like other children. I’m not ready for you to be pregnant yet, besides, we barely know one another. I wanted to give us time to settle as husband and wife. Become friends as well as lovers. I’m sorry I didn't come out and say it.” He sounded slightly remorseful. She didn't know him well enough to decide if she believed him but he sounded sincere as far as she could tell. 

She stood stunned in the living room. Her feet rooting deeper into the ground as she shifted her weight. She wanted to see him. To look into his eyes and discern the truth. He didn’t seem like a good liar and he’d been fairly forthcoming on everything so far saved for this issue with the tablets. 

She honestly didn’t want children either. She just wished he’d talked to her. 

“Lettie,luvie, are you still there? Talk to me, please.” His voice sounded raw. He choked when he said, please. She almost felt bad for going overboard but he had taken the choice from her. 

A knock resounded on the door startling her. She jumped and yelled. Absorbed in her feelings.  

“Finn, did you call someone? I heard the door.” She backed up and cursed remembering the phone wouldn’t let her see through the doorway. The black phone line pulled taunt already. 

“Ada, I called Ada, imagine you bleeding out on the floor,baby please.” She sighed. For a grumpy man he sure backed down easily. Hard to believe he and Thomas were related.

“Hold please.” She said pleasantly as she placed the phone down and ran to the door.

Lettie openedthe door for Ada who looked partially frozen, even in all her furs. 

“Oh Lettie, you're alive, good. You had Finn beside himself, Love.” Ada walked to the table and started peeling off her layers. She grabbed the younger woman and looked her over. 

“Good, he deserves it.” Lettie’s curt reply made Ada shift and smile at her. Lettie filled her in briefly on everything she’d been going through with and because of her husband. 

“He’s still on the phone.” She reminded Ada and herself. Ada laughed and linked her arm with her sister in law. They gilded together into the living room. Lettie was a bit confused by the comradery at first. 

“Oh please, let me talk to my baby brother. I have an opinion on this too.” The women shared a head nod and Ada took the phone. 

“Hello, Finn, what the hell?” Lettie stood back as Ada heatidly scolded Finn. This went on for several minutes, Ada barely pausing to breathe let alone let Finn defend himself. 

Both women were bonding now. Lettie was grateful to have  such a strong capable woman on her side. 

“We’ll Thank God she found out and got angry with you, you rat bastard. Tommy and I were beginning to think you’d given her a lobotomy.” Her confession made Lettie smile. Finn read an article about it to her and she’d been horrified to find out that a person could do that to another. 

“Don’t you Ada me!” She yelled back. Lettie couldn’t make out Finn's words but he’d tried to get angry. Now she couldn’t hear him at all. If Finn were a dog, she had no doubt his tail was firmly tucked between his legs and his head would be down in submission to his sister. Oh, she loved this woman.

“Here.” Ada handed the phone back to Letitia. “He’s sulking but seems to understand the severity.” Ada patted her on the back and walked out of the room. Lettie heard the door close, Ada was now gone back out into the cold weather. She’d been grateful she’d stopped by. Lettie returned back to the phone, raising it to her ear. 

“See you tomorrow husband?” She knew he’d be back sooner rather than later, if nothing else to complain and lick his wounds in his own space. 

“Yeah, tomorrow.” He said evenly. Lettie hung up after several more minutes of silence. She didn’t know what to say either. Why stand there doing nothing? 

_________________________________________________

The next day Finn had come home around dinner with dozens or red roses. He seemed eager to see her, if not slightly hesitant. He was full of praises and kisses for her. 

She liked the positive attention on her for once. Once they were getting ready for bed she knew she needed to gently remind him of something. She needed to feel physically close to him, they both knew sex was building up to rebind their souls physically together. 

“I’ve survived so much you'd never know about Finn, deadly situations multiple times a year. I’m strong and smarter than you. I’ve had to be. “ He really looked at her then. He’d been tugging like a small child at her robe minutes before seeking comfort. 

He was seeing her now. 

“I thought about that several times. Your strength and beauty drew me in initially, but I love you Lettie, and I want to apologize for making a decision without talking to you. I either see Tommy telling Lizzie what they were going to do or Arthur going along with everyone of Linda’s whims…I forgot that we needed to talk together. Forgive me, please.” He pleaded with her gently. His eyes softened and glistened in the lamplight. 

Lettie touched his face. 

“We're a team, yeah, two horses that pull the same wagon.” She knew he’d understand the meaning.

“Yeah, a team.” He nodded and leaned in to kiss her. To his surprise she let him and returned his kisses with a heated passion they’d never had between them. He liked this new fire in her.

[rupertsfangirl]

Ron Weasley Imagine-Comforts you after a rough day at work

Summary: You have a long and rough day at work and your doting husband Ron comforts you when you get home. 

Word count: 1.1k

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Ron Weasley

Note: This is pure fluff with some story. I do plan on making a smut ending version to this because I feel it could end either way so enjoy the fluff for now and look forward to the smut, if you're into that sorta thing. 

Ron stood in the doorway and let his blue eyes trace your figure. 

“You look beautiful.” You blushed at his compliment. 

“Well today is important.” He walked up next to you and took the necklace you planned to wear off the desk. He placed it around your neck while you lifted your hair allowing him to clasp it together. 

“Perfect,” he whispered, placing his hands on your waist from behind. You smile as you put your matching earrings in. 

“Alright, I'm ready.”

“Do you have everything prepared?”

“Yes, it's all in my organizer.”

“Well then don’t forget you are amazing and you’ve got this, go get’em.” You hug him feeling a surge of extra confidence from his words. You walk out of the room and down the stairs to the fireplace, Ron trailing behind you. He presses a kiss onto your forehead. While stepping into the fireplace you grab a palm full of floo powder,

“Ministry of Magic.” You watch as Ron disappears behind the flames and the ministry's black brick walls appear. You start towards the conference room feeling the sweat on your palms, you take a deep breath and reassure yourself. 

“You got this.” You step into the room first, as you expected. You begin to set up your presentation; it was an important one because it would allow your department to expand and potentially lead to a promotion for yourself. Once everyone had arrived you began the presentation. You glided through with ease feeling quite cool and collected the whole time. Why had you been so nervous before, you thought of Ron’s words and smiled internally. After the presentation you were feeling pretty good about it. You left the room and started back toward your office however you heard a few of the wizards and witches who had been in the room talking badly about your presentation. It made you upset and questioned whether you had hallucinated that you were so calm while presenting. You tried to shake it off but remained in a funk the rest of the day. And add that you were behind on just about everything due to being understaffed, it was a combination of all the things that made you overwhelmed. 

You had stayed about 3 hours overtime and got home later than you planned; but even still the second you got home Ron was there to greet you. He took your bag, giving you a kiss while grabbing it, and placed it on the couch. 

“How was work?” You only groan in response. “That bad sweetheart?” You nod and place your head onto his shoulder letting out a big sigh. Ron tries comforting you by rubbing your back and holding your head. 

“Why don’t you get out of those clothes and we can just relax.” 

“Alright,” you say, grabbing your bag and heading upstairs to change into something comfy. You take your hair out of the tight bun it's been in all day and fling off the narrow pumps your feet were squished into; sitting down you take out your earrings and necklace. 

Suddenly Ron shouts from downstairs, “I have a surprise for you!” You can’t help but feel excited using a spell to quickly and cleanly remove your makeup. You make your way back downstairs to see a table set with two plates of delicious looking food, candles, and glasses of the good stuff (nice wine). Ron looks pleased with himself and you can’t help but feel like you drooled a bit when you saw the food. 

“Oh my goodness, what did I do to deserve you?” You give him a tight hug and you both sit to eat. You tell him all about the rough day you had and he shows all his emotions on his face like he usually did: anger when you told him about the people who talked bad about you, worry when you told him about all the work you have, and excitement when you told him that you still felt the presentation went well. Then he told you all about the day he had at work which was usually light hearted as he co-managed the joke emporium with his brother George. He always managed to make you laugh with something crazy that happened. You guys finished eating and took the plates to the kitchen placing them in the sink then Ron used a spell to start washing them. 

“What do you feel up to, baby: a bath, a movie, or maybe me?” You giggled at his proposal and rubbed your finger on your chin pretending to think really hard. 

“Hmm, what about a massage; my back and feet are killing me.” 

“I can make that happen.” He had placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed them lightly. “Go up to the room, I’ll meet you up there.” 

“Okay.” You head up the stairs and into the room, you lie face down on the bed placing your head into your arms. Ron walks in a minute or so after with a bottle of oil. 

“Well you have to take off your shirt,” he chuckled while giving you a knowing look. You roll your eyes at him making sure to face away from him while removing your shirt. You quickly lay back down on the bed and soon after Ron drips the warm oil onto your back instantly soothing you. He begins to move his hands along the sides of your back to your shoulders where he puts pressure and squeezes causing you to let out soft moans. 

“You have magic hands Ronnie,” you mumble jokingly. He smirks and continues to massage the knots out of your shoulders. He then slowly moves his hands down to your lower back and using his thumbs he presses into it and moves out slowly. You gasp lightly feeling loose and calm. 

“Did that feel good sweetheart?” You nod into the bed and he smiles feeling happy he can please you. Ron’s rough yet gentle hands rubbing from your neck, to your shoulders, to your tailbone. You feel as though you're on a cloud and you allow your mind to wonder. After some time Ron stops seemingly thinking you had fallen asleep, he quickly steps into the hallway and grabs a soft towel. He uses it to make sure your back is dry and then covers you with a blanket. And although you were awake you thought it was cute and decided to just allow yourself to sleep.

“Sleep tight sweetie.” Ron shut off the lights opting to do some housework he’d forgotten to do previously while you rested.