#prompt: supernatural elements/creatures

[blakbonnet]

For the fic title game… hmmm… maybe I’ll think of a funny one later but I wanna hear what you’d do with “six ways to Sunday”

Pete mentions the six handshake rule to Stede (the idea that all people are six or fewer social connections away from each other) during the crew's regular "cocktails and cattiness" Monday night. Stede, not believing him, asks him to prove this for... Blackbeard.

6 chapters, they meet 6 famous pirates, and it ends with Stede and Ed meeting at the end, shaking hands by Stede's bedside, post the Spanish stabbing, "the gentleman pirate, I presume" scene playing out as the ending.

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it

[overdressedcarp]

I've been thinking for a while about the optional Magatama dialogue in The Cosmic Turnabout where you can prompt Fulbright about what's bothering him, and for both of the wrong answers, he acts like you got it right, and actively leans into the bit. For example, if you suggest that he's exhausted by life, he agrees and claims he's thinking about quitting his job and going to space. (Honestly, mood.)

(AA 5-4 and 5-5 spoilers below the cut)

It's a good line on its own: funny, and definitely relatable. With 5-5's context, though, it brushes up against a deep-seated desire to disappear, to run away and start over, something the Phantom hasn't been at liberty to do in years. He's shackled to a seven-year-old assignment, strangled by loose ends that he can't tie off. For maybe the first time in his life, he has to wake up every day and live with the effects of his actions, made blisteringly real in the form of the people he hurt.

(Do I think he's walking around harboring deep, profound remorse for UR-1? Not really, no. But the self-protective lie of "my choices don't matter because I'm not really a person" only goes so far when you're clocking into work every day to hang out with the guy who's on death row because of you, who's grieving because of you, and suddenly you're the only person he trusts to hear about the monster that ruined his life, and you planned for this but you didn't plan for this and honestly at that point I'd want to quit my job and throw myself into the vast expanse of space, too.)

Also worth noting, during this entire scene, any time Fulbright goes to answer a question or make an assertion about himself, the tinted glasses go up like a shield. Eyes hidden, hand obscuring the lower half of his face. It's something he does pretty regularly throughout the game, but it's egregious here. My man is on the defensive and he's giving absolutely zero ground.

But the big thing for me is the other "wrong" option, where if you claim that Fulbright is troubled by love, the Phantom's knee-jerk "yes, and," response is to tell a story about a carp named Love who ate a bunch of goldfish because he put them all in the same tank.

In the moment it's supposed to be absurd and comical and one more example of how hapless this guy is, but in retrospect, it's kind of telling that when the Phantom tries to conceptualize love in relation to himself, the first piece of Fulbright-flavored bullshit that comes to mind is about a creature that brings pain and death through mere proximity, not out of malice, but out of nature. As though, subconsciously, he's fixated on the notion of a foreign element that's been dropped into an otherwise peaceful space. A fish that seems like it belongs there until it devours the others.

He really could have said anything—he could have made up a story about a bad breakup, or a really sad movie, or a family member who died. He could have jumped to talking about Blackquill, and how he's concerned for his emotional state given the nature of the current case. But instead, his mind instinctively gravitates to a Love that consumes everything around it: a Love defined by its capacity for violence. There was never a world where the carp could exist alongside the goldfish without hurting them.

And idk. I feel like if he wasn't feeling some kind of way about that, then it wouldn't be bleeding into his Olympic-level improv gymnastics routine to convince Phoenix that he doesn't have any secrets and you can put the supernatural lie detector away now, thanks.

[steterweek]

Steter Week 2025: Steter at the Cinema Prompts

This year we are trying something new: an overarching theme. 

Steter at the Cinema

Each day’s prompt is a specific genre of film, complete with a short explanation of the genre, and some more detailed prompts that fit into that genre. 

As always these prompts are just suggestions. Take them as literally as you like, use some element in your story, or ignore them all together. The goal is just to get a lot of wonderful Steter work into the world. 

SUNDAY, JULY 27

ROMANTIC COMEDY: Romantic comedy, (or rom-com), focuses on lighthearted, humorous plot lines centered on romantic ideas, such as how true love is able to surmount all obstacles.

Did one of them just get dumped? 

Did they have a meet-cute? 

Are they the subject of a will-they-won’t-they bet with all of their friends? 

Or are they the two side-characters in someone’s else’s love story? 

MONDAY, JULY 28

HORROR: Horror is a genre that seeks to elicit physical or psychological fear by exploring dark subject matter and dealing with transgressive topics or themes. Broad elements include monsters, apocalyptic events, and religious or folk beliefs.

Are they dealing with the never-ending stream of monsters that come into Beacon Hills? 

Does Peter live in a haunted house? 

Are they being stalked by a killer? 

Is one of them the killer? 

TUESDAY, JULY 29

ACTION: Action is a genre that predominantly features chase sequences, fights, shootouts, explosions, and stunt work.

Are they on the run? 

Is one of them a fugitive? 

Are they into fast cars, or fast planes, or martial arts?

Are they on the hunt for megafauna or a rare treasure? 

WEDNESDAY, JULY 30

SCIENCE FICTION: Science Fiction (or sci-fi) is a genre that uses speculative, fictional science-based depictions of phenomena that are not fully accepted by mainstream science, such as extraterrestrial lifeforms, spacecraft, robots, cyborgs, mutants, interstellar travel, time travel, or other technologies.

Are they in space? 

Did someone experiment a little too hard and create something new? 

Has the world ended? 

Is one of them a robot? 

THURSDAY, JULY 31

INDIE: Indie movies are not a genre in themselves; rather, they are characterized by a distinctive attitude about telling stories that might not fit within the mainstream studio system, exploring unconventional themes, and embracing the freedom to take artistic risks.

Do they live in a small quirky town? 

Does one of them only talk in quotes? 

Is Stiles a manic pixie dream boy? 

Does Peter have some obscure obsession that is taking over his life? 

FRIDAY, AUGUST 1

FANTASY: Fantasy is a genre with fantastic themes, usually magic, supernatural events, mythology, folklore, or exotic fantasy worlds.

Is one of them a mythological creature?

Do they live in the fairy realm? 

Does Stiles actually have magic powers?

What if any of the lore on the show actually made sense?

SATURDAY, AUGUST 2

CROSSOVER/FUSION/AU: A work in which two or more fandoms are combined in some way. A Fusion or AU may transplant a given source work's characters to a radically different setting, shift the genre in which their adventures occur, and/or alter one or more of their professions, goals, or backstories.

Write Steter into your favorite film plot. 

Are they suddenly fully living out the plot to Point Break with Peter as a criminal/surfer and Stiles as an FBI agent? 

Do they have Daemons?

What if they met the characters of your favorite film? 

Are they now hanging out at Empire Records on Rex Manning Day with everyone else? 

Check our our visual prompts here.

Fin

[obscuraimagines]

i love your work!!! do you have ao3? also i was wondering if you could do one where reader is the one who catches kodiak when they ran away after lottie killed edwin. thank you

A/N: Thank you Anon, that’s so kind!!! And thank you so much for this request! I was trying to make it different from the Bite Me Reader and it ended up going in a really unexpected direction. I hope you enjoy it!

This prompted me to set up a new AO3 account here under the name SilvaObscura. (This sideblog is actually my first time writing smut and the first fanfic I’ve written in years, so I wanted a fresh start lmao.) 

In The Pines

Summary: Set during Croak. Desperate for rescue, you pray to the Wilderness to let you find Kodiak first. The Wilderness grants your wish. It expects something in return. 

Content: Smut, drugged sex (both parties), dubcon/dubious consent, sex pollen elements, hallucinations, ambiguous supernatural elements, ambiguous rational explanation. Intended for readers over 18. Mature content under the cut.

You sing and the Wilderness sings back. 

It’s like the sound rises up from the ground and through you, borrowing your voice to make audible what has always been there. You feel the note vibrating through you, filling you until you feel your edges blurring. Bitterness lingers on your tongue from the tea Lottie gave you. Everything feels heightened: colours are brighter, the dark is darker, the world shimmers like a mirage. You’re no longer a girl: you’re a creature of sound and darkness. The firelight, the trees, the ground beneath your toes all feel as much a part of you as your physical body. You feel a surge of euphoria so strong it lifts you out of yourself. You can feel the Wilderness take notice of you: it’s like a quiet place opens inside your mind, a listening presence inviting you to speak into it. You focus your whole being into one word. Rescue.

Kodiak appears suddenly and silently, like a vision. You stop mid-spin, staggered by your own momentum, a wordless song dying in your throat. The Wilderness spoke to Lottie, then Travis and Akilah. Now it’s speaking to you. He’s limned in firelight, the one bright thing in the darkness, as though he’s the only thing that’s real. Your world sharpens to a pinpoint. He’s here for you: the answer to your prayer. 

You walk towards him. It feels like being in a dream: time stretches, dilates. Your body feels heavy but you feel light, as though the rest of you is somewhere else. You’re barely aware of your teammates dancing around you except as obstacles. The Wilderness howls and you feel your own blood rising to meet it, every fibre of you taut and expectant. You feel his gaze lock on to you as though it’s a physical charge, the intensity almost too much to bear. He’s staring at you with the same mixture of fear and wonder you think must be reflected on your own face. 

You reach out and touch him. You were half expecting your hand to pass through him like smoke. Instead, your palm splays across the muscle of his chest. He grabs your wrist hard: his reflexes are so fast you barely see him move. He doesn’t seem to know what to do when you don’t resist him. You feel his heartbeat trapped beneath your palm. 

You barely notice the others’ singing taper off into silence. Then the screaming starts: it’s ugly, discordant, nothing like what came before. You feel the vision fade but he’s still there, as though he followed you out of it. You only register the presence of the other two strangers when you see Lottie bury an axe in the other man’s head. 

Suddenly everyone’s shouting. You turn to Kodiak but he shoves you so hard you fall backwards. An arrow tears the air above your head; behind you someone howls in pain. Kodiak and the strange woman run. Panic strikes you. It isn’t supposed to happen like this. 

You take off after him, knowing it’s hopeless. You’ll never get to him before the others: Shuana is too fast, Lottie too surefooted, Taissa too strong. You sprint into the darkness, muttering desperate pleas as your lungs burn: please let me find him first, please don’t let them hurt him. I’ll do anything, give you anything, please.

You see a white shape between the trees, crowned in antlers, her face veiled. You veer sideways to avoid her but a tree root snags your ankle, sending you pitching towards the forest floor. You throw a hand out to catch yourself and a sharp stone slices through your palm. 

“Lottie?” you gasp. But it’s not Lottie. It’s not Shauna either. The eyes that meet yours through the veil are ancient, inhuman. She holds a hand out to you, the palm slick with blood, and you’re too stunned to do anything but reach out to take it. 

The second your fingers brush hers, the world lurches sideways. You’re on your feet again, running. You can’t remember how you got here. Your senses are so sharp it’s almost painful: everything is too much. In the near distance, you hear your teammates’ hunting cries and closer the sound of someone running. Kodiak. Your body takes over, surging forwards. You catch him at the exact point in his stride to knock him off balance, tackling him to the ground. 

He rolls, pinning you underneath him. There’s a hunting knife pressed in a cold line against the soft skin of your throat. 

“What the fuck is happening?” he hisses. “Who are you?”

“I can hide you,” you blurt. “Please. I want to go home.”

Kodiak angles the knife, the tip pressing against your pulse point. “Why should I believe you?”

Your teammates call to each other, closer now. They’re all around you, closing in. You glance around to get your bearings and realise where you are. Of course the Wilderness would guide you here. 

“You can’t get away from them. Please. There’s a cave…”

Kodiak gets up, yanking you after him. He pins you against him with one arm, the flat edge of the hunting knife pressed against your throat like a warning. 

The cave seems more sinister at night: an endless swallowing mouth cut into the mountainside. You feel a clawing panic as you hear one of their birdcalls, less than a hundred yards away. Kodiak drags you inside, throws you down behind a boulder, covers your body with his. His hand is over your mouth, the knife jabbed against your ribs, his weight crushing you into the dirt. You feel him hold his breath and you bite down on your lip, willing yourself to be quiet. 

Your hear running outside the cave and brace yourself. Then it’s gone. You sag with relief. Above you, Kodiak lets out a long, silent breath. 

“I know who you are,” you tell him, once it’s safe to speak. You’re deeper inside the cave, sitting on the ground with a burning torch jammed in the dirt between you. You’d found a stack of unlit ones ready down here, left by Ben maybe, or by Lottie. Kodiak says you’re his hostage but, except for some rough handling dragging you down here, he hasn’t really hurt you. There’s a shallow scrape on your side where he pressed too hard with the knife. “Kodiak. The Wilderness told–”

“No shit. It’s written on my shirt.” Kodiak cuts you off, irritated. You can’t make much out in this light but it doesn’t matter: the Wilderness wouldn’t send him to lie to you. “Who the fuck are you?”

You try to explain haltingly about your team, the plane crash. 

“That plane went down over a year ago.” Kodiak interrupts you, his head from side to side. “If there were survivors, they would have starved.”

“We nearly did.” You stare at your feet, avoiding his gaze. You feel unclean, branded. The memory of the last time you hunted a person rises in you, refusing to be denied: the relief of no longer feeling like yourself, the way your whole being sharpened down to a single point, the overwhelming guilt and grief when it all came back. “We learned to hunt.”

“I noticed.” Kodiak grabs the torch, shoves the lit end so close to you you feel the heat on your face. His face is half in shadow but you think you see him studying you, taking in your deerskin cape, the lean muscle of your bare legs, your tattered converse, your wild grown-out hair. “How would some girls’ soccer team–”

“I can prove it.” You shove your cloak over your shoulder and then jerk back as Kodiak jabs the torch at you threateningly. You hold your hands up in surrender, your back pressed to the cave wall. “Look.”

He shifts his weight, leaning in to read the faded Yellowjackets on your practice shirt. The torch isn’t giving much light so he has to lean in, pulling the fabric away from you so he can read it. 

“You’ve been out here a whole year?” When he speaks, his voice is softer. He’s looking at you differently but it’s hard to read his expression. “How did you survive the winter?”

“Some of us didn’t.”

Kodiak seems to realise he’s still holding your shirt. His fingers brush your breast as he lets go. Despite yourself you shiver. It’s been a long time since anyone touched you. It hits you then that he’s a strange man and you’re alone with him. 

Kodiak is tall – easily over 6ft – and powerfully built. After living for so long among malnourished girls, his physical presence is overwhelming. The flickering amber light plays over his scars: a neat line curving upwards from one eyebrow, a mess of scar tissue half hidden by his collar. 

He’s studying you back and you try not to think about how you must look to him, half wild in ragged clothes and skins you helped hunt. You wish he could see you as you had been before the crash. You thought you were so grown up back then: nearly nineteen, almost graduated, college mapped out in front of you. Back when everything about you was still measured in potential. 

“We shouldn’t stay here too long,” you tell him. You’re afraid of him looking too long, seeing too much. “It’s not safe.”

Kodiak scoffs. Whatever fragile understanding existed between you breaks. “Safer than outside.” 

“There’s some kind of… I don’t know…natural gas or something.” You scramble for a version of the truth he’ll believe. “It makes you see things. That’s why the others are afraid to come here.”

“Or,” Kodiak says. “You’re trying to lead me into a trap.”

“I wouldn’t do that. I swear. I just want to go home.” You feel your face fall. “I don’t know why Lottie… did that. I’m– I’m sorry. About your friend.”

Kodiak is no longer listening to you. He goes still, staring at something past your shoulder. He’s outlined by the faint light coming from the cave entrance behind him. 

“I thought you said this was as far as it went?”

“It is.”

“Then what’s that?”

You turn and see light flickering against the stone, too bright to be cast from your torch. 

“I don’t know.”

Kodiak gets up, jerking you to your feet by your elbow and pushing you in front of him. You feel the knife cold against the back of your neck. “Lead the way.”

There’s no way anyone could have got past without you seeing them. You’re not even sure there should be anywhere for them to be. You creep forwards, until you reach a narrow fissure in the rock. You turn to Kodiak, pleadingly but of course it’s no good. He doesn’t trust you; there’s no way you’re going to convince him that the cave has rearranged itself. You squeeze through the fissure, letting out a whimper when your hand touches something soft. Kodiak hisses at you to keep going and you push aside what turns out to be some kind of pelt and stumble into a circular chamber you’ve never seen before.  

The pelt half covering the entrance behind you is bearskin; huge and glossy with dark fur. It makes you uneasy: you’d cut up the skin of the bear Lottie killed into smaller pieces for easier tanning. Someone other than your teammates must have put it here. Anything that helps you keep warm is precious out here. It makes no sense to abandon something so valuable underground.  

You’re so distracted by the pelt that it takes you a second to pay attention to the source of the light. There’s a low stone slab against one wall that’s bright with lit candles. They turn the air soft, golden, gently flickering around the edges. You edge towards the altar (the word arises unbidden in your thoughts), scenting a trap. You burned nearly all the candles last winter and the fire took the precious few you had left. There’s no way for your teammates to have brought them here and no way anyone else would have lit them and left them to burn in the dark. They’re clustered around a stag skull with huge, branching antlers. In front of it lies something dark and shrivelled, perhaps a heart. Suddenly the candle flames flicker and burn brighter. You feel a presence at your back.

“We shouldn’t be here.” Your voice sounds small, faraway somehow. Every instinct you have is screaming danger.

You turn to face Kodiak, only to realise it’s not him. 

The Antler Queen stands in front of you, her face rendered blank by her veil. She’s silent but you feel knowing settle on you: you’re exactly where she wants you to be. You see her face contort through the veil, mouth stretched wide as a pit. When she speaks to you, it’s in the voice of the Wilderness: the scream of the forest, the crackle of wildfire, the roar of the wind through the trees. The force of it hits you like a sledgehammer.

You stagger away blindly, clapping your hands over your ears. You collide with something. You cry out but your scream sounds hoarse and thin in the sudden silence.

Kodiak catches you around the waist, one hand splaying across your stomach. 

“Where did you go?” his voice is thick, slurred. His jaw presses against your temple as he speaks, his beard rasping against your skin. “What’ did you do to me?”

You crane your neck to face him: his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. 

“It’s the cave.” You struggle, trying to pull him towards the exit. He’s too strong. “We have to get out of here.”

“Did you drug me?” Kodiak tries to shake you but he’s clumsy, uncoordinated. Instead his hand slides under your shirt. His skin is fever-hot. You feel an electric thrill you through you where his bare skin touches yours, so intense it’s almost painful. Kodiak’s breathing hitches: you feel his breath hot on your check, the sharp rise and fall of his chest pressed against your side. “Hurts…when I’m not touching you.”

You feel heat spreading through you. The longing to touch his bare skin is almost overwhelming. You wrench yourself out of his grip and he stumbles. 

You glance backwards: he’s dazed, feverish. You can’t abandon him: not when he’s your only chance of rescue. You grab him by the sleeve and pull him after you, careful not to touch his skin, as you pull aside the bear pelt covering the entrance. 

There’s nothing behind it but solid rock. You struggle with it and Kodiak pulls it free from the cave wall, tossing it on the floor behind you. He presses a palm to the now solid rock, leaning on it unsteadily.

You run your hands over the wall, unable to believe the evidence of your eyes. You keep muttering no no no like a litany, the sound blending together until it barely sounds like words anymore. You lurch drunkenly, your limbs oddly leaden; there’s a roaring in your ears and your chest is tight. It’s getting harder and harder to think. “The way out was here. It can’t just be gone.”

You begin to circle the walls, running your palms over the rough stone. Kodiak covers your hands with his, holding them still, his chest pressed against your back. “Don’t leave.”

Heat flares where he touches you and the awful constricting pressure lessens. You let out a strangled moan. 

At that sound, whatever control Kodiak has left snaps. 

He spins you to face him so hard you lose your footing and fall into his chest. You barely have time to steady yourself before his arms are around you. Your back slams into the cave wall with the force of his kiss. It’s messy at first: urgent, breathless, your teeth crashing into his. Then you throw an arm around his neck to anchor yourself and he tilts your jaw upwards and suddenly everything makes sense. The feverish pain you feel doesn’t lessen but it stops being pain. Touching him feels like gorging yourself after starving.

You whimper when he breaks the kiss. He presses the side of his face to yours, unable to stop touching you, speaking directly into your ear. 

“It’s not enough.” His voice is rougher, deeper. The sound vibrates through you, leaving you needy, desperate. His hand trails downwards from your breast, settling on the button of your shorts. “I need more. Need you.”

You nod breathlessly. You fumble with the ties of your cloak until Kodiak gets impatient and snaps them. The heavy furs fall to the ground at your feet. You both pull at your clothes, wanting to feel as much of each other’s skin as possible. Kodiak pulls you to him, pushing you down onto the bear pelt. The fur is sleek against your bare skin. You’ve shed most of your clothes, down to your sports bra and unbuttoned shorts. You wrestle out of your sports bra, tossing it aside, while Kodiak sheds his own clothes. He looks golden in the candlelight, the hard planes of his muscles thrown into sharp relief. 

Kodiak tugs at your shorts and you lift your hips to let him slide them down your legs. Your underwear comes away too, leaving you bare for him. 

You feel him line himself up against you. He’s bigger than you expected. You tense. You try to tell yourself that it’s okay, that the first time hurts for everyone, that it’s only pain. 

Kodiak draws back. He seems a little more in control of himself now; but only a little. “You good?”

“Fine.”

“Is this… have you done this before?”

You shake your head. “Just do it. I’ll manage.”

“If I do that I’m going to hurt you.” 

You go rigid at his words, bracing yourself. Instead he trails rough, open-mouthed kisses down your chest. He palms at your breast with one hand, taking the other into his mouth and tugging a nipple between his teeth. You writhe under him, trying to clamp your thighs together, desperate for friction. Instead, Kodiak pins you down and takes his time teasing you. Then, just as the force of your own desire becomes agonising, he hikes your leg over his shoulder, kissing down your inner thigh. He stops to suck a lovebite into your skin, his beard rough against your skin, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin. 

When you feel his mouth on you, you cry out. Instinctively you cram a hand over your mouth, conditioned by a year of living in close quarters with no privacy. Kodiak pulls up and looks up at you. The sight of him between your thighs makes something twist pleasantly inside you. 

“Don’t you dare,” he tells you. “I want to hear you.”

You nod, breathless, grabbing fistfuls of the bearskin to keep your hands still. His mouth is hot against you, his tongue slick and velvety. It’s so much better than anything you’ve been able to do for yourself out here, so much better than the adolescent fumblings with long-forgotten highschool boyfriends back home. You’re almost afraid of how much you want him, the power he has over you. You shift under him, unsure if you want more or less, until Kodiak grips your hips between his hands and holds you still, so you’re at his mercy. The cave amplifies your cries, echoes your own ragged breathing back at you.  You come hard, the orgasm slamming into you.

Even as you come back to yourself, you can feel your desire begin to build again until wanting him is almost painful. Kodiak works his way up your body, nuzzling at your neck. 

“I need to be inside you,” he tells you, his voice almost a growl. You can feel him hard against you but this time you’re not afraid: you’re slick and aching for him. You nod and he begins to ease into you.

“I need you to fuck me,” you breathe.

Kodiak slams into you, as though he can’t control himself. It hurts a little but the pain is overshadowed by an overwhelming feeling of rightness. 

“I was trying to be gentle,” he chides you. You can feel him straining, trying to hold himself back, giving you time. 

“You can be a little rough.” 

“Only a little?” Kodiak breathes the words against your ear as he starts to thrust into you. Despite your words you gasp and cling to him, your nails biting into his shoulders. “You have no idea. How rough. I want to be.”

He punctuates the words with thrusts, grinding his hips against yours in a way that makes you see sparks. 

It’s hard and fast and sweaty after that. You wrap your legs around his waist as he thrusts hard into you, whispering absolute filth into your ear. He tells you how tight you are, how well you’re taking him, how good you feel. You feel yourself clench around him and the sensation is enough to tip him over the edge so he spills inside you. 

Afterwards, you’re both out of breath, his forehead resting against yours, his lips a hair’s breadth from yours. You close the distance between you with a kiss and he returns it lazily, keeping you pinned under him. You can already feel the tide of desire rising in you again. 

“I don’t think we’re done yet.” Kodiak pulls away but barely. His body is moulded to yours, your breasts pressing against his chest with every ragged breath. His face is so close to yours that your noses brush, you feel his breath against your swollen lips. He slides a hand up your thigh, fingers dipping inside you, smirking at the moan he draws out of you. 

He takes pleasure in playing with you until he’s ready to go again. You try to grind against his hand, whimpering, needy but he’s merciless, bringing you right to the edge and keeping you there. 

“Maybe I want to play with you a while longer,” he teases when you beg him to let you come. He kisses you long and slow, proving to you that you’ll take whatever he chooses to give. “Maybe I like you all helpless and pleading.”

You let out a low whine and he kisses you again, chuckling against your mouth. 

“I’ll fuck you if you ask nicely.”

You glare at him and he brushes a finger over your clit, not hard enough to give you the release you need, hard enough to make you whimper and try to grind into his hand. 

“Please,” you manage.

He smirks down at you, the shadows turning his blue eyes almost black. “Now, I know you can do better than that.”

“I-I need you inside me.”

“Good girl.”

You’re not about to let that stand. Not when you know he needs this as badly as you do. You push Kodiak onto his back. You shouldn’t be able to do that – he’s powerfully built, easily over six foot of lean muscle – but somehow you do. Perhaps he lets you. Perhaps he wants to see where you’re going. 

“I want to be on top,” you tell him, your voice ragged. 

He looks up at you, amused. You feel the dynamic between you shift, recalibrate. 

“Sure, I’ll allow it.” He drags his eyes over you, lingering on your breasts. 

He guides you, hands curled around your hipbones, as you sink down onto him. The awful building pressure in your head releases and you let out a long, shivery sigh. He strokes his hands up your sides, almost tenderly at first, until he gets impatient and kneads at your breasts. It’s easier to take him this time; you roll your hips experimentally, rewarded when his breath hitches. He returns his hands to your hips, guiding your movements until you find your rhythm. 

Your body takes over. It’s as though something bigger than you is guiding you, watching you from behind your eyes. The cave amplifies your own sounds back at you: ragged breathing, moans, the sounds of your bodies moving together. The candles gutter and flicker, outlining the seams in the rough stone walls like branches moving in a high wind, like antlers. 

You lean down to kiss Kodiak. It’s rough, intense, his hands tangling in your hair. When you pull away he follows you up, shifting position so he’s sitting with you astride his lap. The change in angle drives him deep inside you, making you cry out and cling to him. Kodiak grasps you to him, one hand splayed across the small of your back, the other wrapped around the back of your neck, anchoring against him as he fucks you hard. You cry out, back arching, breasts pressed against him, hair tossed back. He bites down hard where your shoulder meets your neck and you understand that he’s marking you, claiming you, letting you know you’re his. Somehow that knowledge is what undoes you. You come hard. Kodiak fucks you through it, prolonging your response, until he comes too, biting your shoulder again, hard enough to draw blood. 

You collapse against him and he holds you up. He’s still inside you and you feel a delicious ache. Kodiak strokes your back, whispers meaninglessly into your ear. You enjoy the moment of respite, knowing that there’s more to come, that whatever force is guiding you both is far from finished.

It’s going to be a long night.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reads, likes, comments and especially requests. If you enjoyed this then please do tell me (and especially tell me which parts you want to see more of.) I enjoy writing these but it’s knowing that people want to see them them that gets them edited and onto Tumblr. 

[lydiamartinappreciation]

Lydia Martin Appreciation Week is back for 2025!

How to Participate

Simply create something about Lydia. Fic, art, gifsets, moodboards etc are all welcome. If you want your work reblogged, simply tag it #LydiaWeek2025 or tag @lydiamartinappreciation. If you write fic on ao3, you can add it to the Lydia Martin Week 2025 collection.

All works must be Lydia-centric and Lydia-positive. A further list of rules can be found here.

Prompts

NOTE: These are just a guide. You can produce visual work for the writing prompts and you can produce written work for the visual prompts. You can combine prompts. You can choose not to use the prompts. All of this is just for fun.

Writing Prompts

Day 1: Found Family

Who are the people Lydia consider to be her family? How have their relationships changed and evolved over the course of the show and how might they continue to change post-canon? Alternatively, maybe you want to go pre-canon and show us Lydia first meeting some of the characters she later considers her closest friends and family.

Day 2: Banshee Lydia

What does it mean to be a banshee? What elements of lore could you explore? How does Lydia deal with her powers? Are there any other banshees Lydia interacts with and what do these relationships look like?

Day 3: What-If Wednesday

It's What-If Wednesday! Here for all your missing scene, fix-it and alternate universe needs.

Day 4: Friend or Foe

How does Lydia interact with and feel about some of the villains of the show? How does she feel about the villains turned allies? What about allies turned villains? Are there any parallels you could draw?

Day 5: Rarepair Friday

Today we're focusing on rarepairs. This could be romantic, platonic, familiar etc. Any kind of bond works. We simply want to celebrate the less appreciated dynamics (or potential dynamics) of the show.

Day 6: Outside the Supernatural

What does Lydia's life look like when she's not fighting supernatural creatures and trying to save Beacon Hills? What's a typical Saturday night for her? What are her hopes and dreams? Her hobbies? Who is Lydia outside of being a banshee?

Day 7: Free Day

Do whatever you want - Just have fun!

Visual Prompts

Day 1: Favourite Season

In what season does Lydia shine the most? What are your favourite scenes or episodes from that season?

Day 2: Monochrome

Pick a colour and stick to it! (Does not have to be pink) (Accent colours are allowed).

Day 3: What-If Wednesday

It's What-If Wednesday! Here for all your missing scene, fix-it and alternate universe needs.

Day 4: Quotes / Song Lyrics

Are there any quotes or lyrics that sum up Lydia to you? It could be a quote from the show or anywhere really.

Day 5: Rarepair Friday

Today we're focusing on rarepairs. This could be romantic, platonic, familiar etc. Any kind of bond works. We simply want to celebrate the less appreciated dynamics (or potential dynamics) of the show.

Day 6: Character Growth

The Lydia we see in the pilot is not the Lydia we see in the finale. How did she get there? What are your favourite examples of her growth?

Day 7: Free Day

Do whatever you want - Just have fun!

Alternate Prompts

1 - Parallels: What parallels can you draw between Lydia and other characters? What about between Lydia and herself?

2 - Loss: Lydia goes through a lot of loss in the series. How does it affect her and how does she deal with?

3 - Outsider POV: How does Lydia look when viewed from an outside lens?

4 - Inter-generational: How does Lydia interact with the adults in the show?

[blackwood4stucky]

echoes of crystal springs | aspen blackwood

series: @burningembersofadyingworld | masterlist

james “bucky” barnes x steve rogers | mcu | 🅼 | complete

tags: stucky dune au, post-modern omegaverse

Brooklynd, the capital city on Vanaheim - 10923 Steve looked at the brunet haired baby boy with pointed ears in the bassinet, the omega he would one day take as his wife. He could just barely hear the adults talking on the other side of the room as they whispered about courtship and marriage. He couldn’t believe the Ljósálfar would travel so far from Álfheim to discuss such topics. He was a mere five year old boy, what did he know of alliances and weddings?

bingo fills + event prompts

@afgomegaversebingo | first love

@angstober | promise

@anyfandomfluffbingo | free space

au challenge | arranged marriage

@augustwritingchallenge:

au-gust 2024 | space travel trick au treat 24 | deal with the devil

@buckybarnesbingo: round 6 | y5: galaxy

@buckybarnesevents: babb 2023 | arranged marriage + space [may]

crossover bingo | omegaverse

@darkacademiabingo | creature feature

@darkspicyevanstan: quadruple challenge mode

dune au + light elf + science fantasy + damocles' sword

@eclipsingbingo: the rising moon | space travel au

@fandombingo:

rpf card | arranged marriage au the little prince bingo | primeval forest the martian bingo | space opera

@fandom-free-bingo

flight | collars world book night edition | brave new world + elf

@ficwip: all ships week | free day

@intotheomegaverse: halloween | free day

@julybreakbingo

jbb 24 | alien planet post july 24 | arranged marriage

@multifandom-flash:

bdsm | ceremonial collar + of sexy corsets here there be monsters bingo | light elf may [hp] | prophecy

nightmare fuel | dream

@sebastianstanbingo | intergalactic au

@secretcrypticevents:

into the wilds bingo | hydra into the wilds flash | dimension travel au + light elf + arranged marriage

@steverogersbingo | b3: bucky barnes

@taintedsoulspromo: danse macabre | creature feature

@through-time-and-space-bingo | supernatural elements au

read: ao3 | sqwa | tumblr

[kaiakaevents]

Crimson Clover Week From February 7th to 14th. [2025]

PROMPTS.

1. Medieval Fantasy / Urban Fantasy*.

2. Legacy / Moon.

3. Flowers / Jewels.

4. Movies [AU] / City Pop*.

5. Immortality / Necromancy.

6. Famous AU / Partners in Crime.

7. Valentine's Day / Bad Luck.

Explanation of [*]

Urban fantasy is a genre that mixes fantasy elements, such as magic or supernatural creatures (vampires, wizards, fairies), with modern or urban settings. Unlike medieval fantasy, where everything happens in an ancient world full of castles, urban fantasy takes place in contemporary cities, such as New York or London. In these types of stories, magic coexists with technology and everyday life, sometimes in a secret or hidden way. A good example of urban fantasy would be Harry Potter when wizards live in London and use magic while others don't notice. City pop is a musical genre that emerged in Japan in the late 1970s and rose to popularity in the 1980s. It is a mix of pop, funk, jazz, disco and soft rock, creating a fresh and relaxed sound, inspired by urban life and the modern lifestyle of that time, especially related to big cities and the idea of ​​enjoying luxury and leisure. Visually, city pop is associated with a retro aesthetic that reflects 80s culture, bright colors, neon lights, sports cars, cityscapes, beaches and fashion from that decade. The images evoke a nostalgic feeling, like eternal summer, in an atmosphere of urban glamour.

RULES.

You can include other couples, but the main focus should always be Akako x Kaito.

Platonic fanworks are welcome.

Don't forget to put the corresponding tags and warnings on your works.

You are free to interpret the instructions as you want, you don't have to take it completely literally.

You can mix all the themes, not do some, do all of them or do just one, it doesn't matter, we accept any contribution for the AkaKai community.

We will be working with the following tags: #CrimsonWeek2025 #CrimsonWeek #AkaKaiWeek and #AkaKaiWeek2025.

You can send a message or write in the comments if you have any doubts or questions! It's always a pleasure to help.

[fiercefauna]

Surface Portal: version 2

“Let it be known that water on the ethereal plane bears neither heft nor lift. It stands as thin as air.” - Quote mostly pulled from Soul Reaver.

It was awhile before I noticed @ironymobile had birbs. I had once considered a connection between the mythical caladrius and Plague Doctors - (Note that caladrius is so obscure a word my spell checker doesn’t recognize it, and Plague Doctors are so well known to my associates here that I just as soon call them PDs.)

Irony’s birbs - “Birbs” being a term of endearment for PDs and related beings I’ve taken to using, is deliberately misspelled and therefore cute.

The following is what I’ve been able to surmise from their “Lore.” Irony may correct me if I get anything wrong here.

These particular birbs have got to be among the safer spirits one may encounter being extremely unlikely to attack unless provoked and invulnerable to pretty much everything except - ironically enough, hand-held physical weapons.

They seem to coalesce out of the spirit and psychic energy rising from mass graves of the ill, and often, the persecuted, being to some extent thought forms albeit solid enough to damage. They seem to want to help people but are very shy. I assume they only approach people at their most vulnerable because they fear us too much otherwise, offering what assistance - often medical, we may require. I feel this may give them the context of vampires or grim reapers; being seen as guilty by association when they are more correlation than cause.

Humans may even over-exploit or persecute the things they love or find useful and thus fear may be a better defense, perhaps better a witch or vampire to be given a wide berth than a caladrius in a gilded cage. Made to practice one’s medical skills only on those who have paid its captors.

Now the fun part - Travel

As hinted at above these do seem to be able to take the smaller flying forms of birds, (ravens, crows, doves, and perhaps, swans, storks or ibis.) but can also walk along the bottoms of water ways as though traveling through thin air. I chose to assume they do this rather than swim due to the folkloric context from irony, but they may swim also. That they may be reluctant to travel as birds nowadays could be due to the “caladrius” being captured and sold to royalty for what are certainly very high prices.

Many coming from plagues and religious wars in the “old world,” they may also not fully understand the mannerisms of modern people and be avoidant for that reason. There is also the matter of their feather clothes being stolen leaving them in the weakened state of needing to either make or grow more.

Unaffected by natural elements and having no need or want of food,(lacking even mouths to conventionally eat with) they seem able walk long distances and have no need of shelter, only requiring air to speak, though without mouths or nostrils it’s uncertain how they do it. Their belongings however may be adversely affected by their environs prompting some interesting solutions.

Imagine not needing food or shelter but needing to find a dry, secure place to put your meager belongings. Especially when traveling through water. (Note that the character pictured above has a sealed clay pot for a water-proof suitcase.) And also - that their white cloak is only visible above the water line. One wonders how much hollow tree and unused attic space has been secretly commandeered as a “stash.” And perhaps the assumption that supernatural beings hoard “treasure.”

Assumptions that these creatures are women, arise when they are discovered apparently “bathing” in waterways, with their feather cloaks. Assumptions they are men often arising when they work as “doctors.” They do however, as abstract concepts given semi-solid form, lack physical gender.

Taking a detour through a forest fire or hiding in a burning building may damage their clothes and creates the possibility of crushing damage from falling trees and debris but there is no fear of the flames themselves or the high temperatures, in fact, the energy being released may be something they could theoretically consume as a kind of food.

[witchermonstermayhem]

October has arrived with new monster Prompts:

"Trick or Treat!" / Ghost / Kaer Morhen

And the Picture Prompt:

source: pixabay

You can create something new or share an old work/post! Fics, gifs, vids, art, everything is welcome if you think it fits the prompts.

Post here on tumblr using the tags #witchermonstermayhem and #octobermonster

You can also tag @witchermonstermayhem so I can easily find and reblog your work.

Combine freely with any other fan event that allows it! (For example with @sicktember or @whumptember)

Can I submit prompts? Yes, please feed my ask-box with prompts that you'd like to see in the months to come!

For more rules, keep reading. Have fun with Witchers and Monsters!

Rules:

Any kind of Witcher fanwork is welcome: art, edits, fanfics, poetry etc. (including crossovers, modern AUs, NSFW, etc.)

Create something new or re-post an older work that fits the prompt.

It can be about the Witcher novels, the games, the show, the comics ...

If you want to post your work on Ao3 (or have already posted it there), you can add it to the Witcher Monster MAYhem collection 2024 (directly in the collection dashboard or by using WitcherMonsterMAYhem2024 as the collection name)

Most importantly: Have fun!

FAQs

Does there have to be a monster in the story/the artwork that is important for the plot/the piece of art? - Yes, definitely! The monster can be purely imaginary though, like in a dream, or maybe people only think there is a monster, but it turns out there is not. It must be a driving force of the plot/central element of the artwork, though.

What is a monster? - "A monster is a type of fictional creature found in horror, fantasy, science fiction, folklore, mythology and religion. Monsters are very often depicted as dangerous and aggressive with a strange, grotesque appearance that causes terror and fear. Monsters usually resemble bizarre, deformed, otherworldly and/or mutated animals or entirely unique creatures of varying sizes, but may also take a human form, such as mutants, ghosts and spirits, zombies or cannibals, among other things. They may or may not have supernatural powers, but are usually capable of killing or causing some form of destruction, threatening the social or moral order of the human world in the process." "Wikipedia - Monster"

Must the monster be evil and scary? - No, not necessarily. There are "good" monsters in the original Witcher books, like Dopplers or even a Higher Vampire. The monster could also just be a mischievous goblin that hides socks. Humour and fluff very welcome!

Must the monster die? - That is totally up to you. There are quite a few examples in the books where Geralt does not kill the monster, even cases where he befriends it.

Is sex with a monster allowed? - Sure, why not? Just tag it accordingly if it is nsfw or any warnings/triggers apply (like non-con etc.).

[akhenvs3000f24]

Unit 05 Blog Post

With an open blog prompt this week encouraging us to discuss what we are thinking about, I can't deny that most of my thoughts are about the fall season, thanksgiving, and Halloween! With that in mind, I would like to discuss the intersection of nature and the supernatural, which feels especially relevant as Halloween (one of my favourite holidays!) approaches :)

I'd like to start off by mentioning how darkness changes our perception of nature. A familiar place you've known your whole life -- like your backyard or a forest trail, can feel unknown or mysterious at night. This concept reminds me a lot of playing tag in the dark with my sister and cousins as a little kid, during which the darkness would play tricks on our senses. At night the woods felt more alive, with every rustling leaf and snap of a twig sending chills down our spines. The power of the unknown in nature can make even the most innocent games feel eerie and exhilarating.

Furthermore, the campfire, a quintessential outdoor experience, frequently becomes a gateway to the world of spooky tales. Why is it that humans gravitate towards telling scary stories outside in nature, when accompanied by friends and only the light of a fire? The atmosphere seems to encourage a feeling of spookiness. The flickering firelight casts shadows on trees, creating ghostly figures, while the crackling wood echoes with the sounds of the forest. This atmosphere makes the perfect setting for storytelling, where nature itself seems to participate in the tales, adding to the eerie ambiance. I find that our tendency as humans to lean into the mystery and unfamiliarity we experience by the campfire endearing and is likely a common experience most people can relate to.

On the topic of storytelling, there are many intriguing natural history myths or urban legends that tie in with fall themes, like the legend of Sleepy Hollow’s Headless Horseman or the lore surrounding the Jersey Devil. These stories often have roots in real landscapes and cultural histories, adding layers of meaning to the natural environment. Furthermore, many Indigenous cultures have rich mythologies involving nature spirits or creatures tied to specific natural landmarks (like forests, rivers, or mountains). It is no coincidence that modern horror media takes inspiration from these stories, like Until Dawn using the Wendigo myth.

These stories and adaptations often tie supernatural elements to natural forces. These tales tap into deep fears about nature's untamable power and our smallness or powerlessness in comparison. I believe the human fascination with the supernatural originates from a fear of the unknown in nature—storms, plagues, wild animals, and much more. Early cultures explained these phenomena in myths and legends, which still resonate with us in modern horror because they tap into primal fears about survival and the natural world.

Next, specifically when thinking about Halloween and horror, I find it interesting (but not surprising!) that most horror movies are set in outdoor environments such as woods, fields, or isolated cabins. The game I mentioned above, Until Dawn, is no exception, as it focuses on a group of adults trying to survive on Blackwood Mountain. One of the most classic horror movies, Friday the 13th, takes place at Camp Crystal Lake (or "Camp Blood"). Some other examples of horror films like The Blair Witch Project or The Ritual use the forest as a character itself, full of unknown threats and primal fears. Nature can be beautiful, but when it turns against us or becomes uncontrollable, it becomes terrifying.

I know a lot of people aren't into horror movies, but they're certainly not the only genre of fall media that incorporates nature as a major aspect of the storytelling. If you haven't seen the Cartoon Network mini-series Over the Garden Wall, it is a fall classic that I honestly can't recommend enough. Over the Garden Wall perfectly blends the calm essence of autumn with the spooky, magical, and supernatural elements of Halloween. This show emphasizes fall being a transitional season, where life starts to decay, and the boundaries between reality and the unknown become thinner. The two protagonists, Wirt and Greg, travel through the woods which act as an ever-present character that uses the changing seasons to symbolize the journey between life and death. It is a show that successfully combines the feelings of whimsy and eerie, reflecting the dual nature of fall. I think it is a great example of a show that uses natural elements to enhance storytelling, and the fleshed out natural aspects truly provide a sense of place as you watch Greg and Wirt travel through "The Unknown".

To conclude, I hope my post for this week has provided some insight into the themes of nature, the supernatural, and human storytelling all within the context and atmosphere of fall and Halloween.

[eddiediazeventcentral]

Prompt Announcement!

The moderation team is pleased to announce the prompts for Eddie Diaz Week 2024!

Feel free to use all three for the day in a single work. If you think you can write the SFW better as NSFW, feel free to do that! If you want to combine this with something like BTHB, feel free!

We want to see your creativity as we celebrate Eddie Diaz!

A text version of the prompts is located under the cut.

Monday

Quote Prompt: “I can, in fact, cook for myself.” SFW Prompt: Sick Eddie/Taken Care Of NSFW Prompt: Giving Up Control/Submissive Eddie

Tuesday

Quote Prompt: "Why me?" SFW Prompt: Whump NSFW Prompt: Tied Up

Wednesday

Quote Prompt: “Yes please” SFW Prompt: Rare Pair NSFW Prompt: BDSM

Thursday

Quote Prompt: “Be gay, Do crime” SFW Prompt: Fake Dating NSFW Prompt: Semi-Public Sex

Friday

Quote Prompt: “What are we?” SFW Prompt: Supernatural Elements/Creatures NSFW Prompt: Alpha/Omega

Saturday

Quote Prompt: “Well that was…” “Yeah” SFW Prompt: Birthday Celebrations NSFW Prompt: Pillow Princess

Sunday

Quote Prompt: “I’m not telling anyone else.” SFW Prompt: Woke Up Married NSFW Prompt: Friends with Benefits

Alternate Prompts

SFW Prompts: Adventures With Chris, Different Job, Self-Acceptance, Unexpected Feelings NSFW Prompts: Praise Kink, Size Queen Eddie, Masturbation, Sex Games

[charlesoberonn]

It's server promotion time!

I have a collaborative worldbuilding Discord server called What Do They Eat.

(art by @gentsma-art)

Each week we vote on a prompt and then make a new original fictional setting based on it. You can vote on next week's prompt right now.

Here are the options:

🤼 Let's make a pro-wrestling league. Personalities larger than life with flashy costumes and punny names will fight in the ring for the cheering crowds' entertainment. Each wrestler will have a dramatic backstory, a complicated web of relationships with other wrestlers, oh, and a unique superpower! 🐧 Warm Antarctica Map Challenge. We'll start with a map of Antarctica without the ice. From there we'll flesh out the terrain, the creatures, the people, the cultures. With the added twist that despite being warm, this continent still has half a year long nights and days. 🐶 Reverse Scooby Gang. In a world of magic and secret supernatural elements and entities, a gang of teens and their animal mascot travel around solving mysteries. Each mystery seems mundane at first, but through investigation and shenanigans, the truth behind it is revealed to be paranormal in nature. ⏳ Let's do our take on the time police trope. But instead of just protecting the timeline from alterations, this time police is established by and accountable to a democratic government of representatives from different eras. The time cops must enforce temporal law while also dealing with issues of corruption and political intrigue. 🐌 Magic animal domestication. In this universe, each animal species has a unique magic power. The magic power humans have is empathic communication, which lets them more easily tame and domesticate other magical species and selectively breed them over generations to increase and focus their magical abilities.

Come join us!

[jasminewalkerauthor]

Deep dives into folklore: Werewolves

Werewolves, often depicted as humans with the ability to transform into wolves or wolf-like creatures during the full moon, have been a recurring theme in literature and mythology for centuries. The concept of the werewolf has evolved significantly over time, reflecting the changing beliefs, fears, and societal norms of different cultures. Today we are exploring the fascinating journey of the werewolf from its ancient origins to its modern-day interpretations in literature and popular culture.

The origins of the werewolf myth can be traced back to the ancient civilizations of Greece and Rome. In Greek mythology, the legend of Lycaon tells the story of a king who was transformed into a wolf as punishment for serving human flesh to the gods. This early representation of lycanthropy, the ability to shape-shift into a wolf, laid the groundwork for future werewolf tales. In Roman literature, the story of Ovid's "Metamorphoses" also features a man named Arcas transformed into a bear by the god Jupiter, an early example of shape-shifting.

During the Middle Ages, the werewolf myth gained prominence in European folklore. In a time when superstitions and fear of the unknown were rampant, the idea of humans transforming into vicious beasts under the influence of the moon became deeply ingrained in the collective psyche. The term "werewolf" itself is of Old English origin, derived from "wer" meaning man and "wulf" meaning wolf. This era saw the emergence of numerous werewolf legends and stories, often used to explain mysterious disappearances or brutal killings. One of the most famous cases was that of Peter Stumpp, a 16th-century German farmer who claimed to have made a pact with the devil and confessed to committing gruesome murders while in wolf form. Such tales served to stoke the fear of the supernatural and the unknown.

As Europe transitioned from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance and Enlightenment periods, the werewolf myth underwent a transformation of its own. The Age of Reason prompted a shift towards skepticism and rationality, and werewolf stories became less prominent. However, they did not disappear entirely. Some writers and scholars explored the psychological aspects of lycanthropy, viewing it as a metaphor for the duality of human nature. This concept laid the groundwork for the exploration of the werewolf's inner struggle in later literature.

The 19th century saw a revival of interest in the supernatural, and werewolves made a comeback in literature. Folklorists and writers like The Brothers Grimm and E.T.A. Hoffmann delved into the darker aspects of folklore, resurrecting old werewolf legends and incorporating them into their stories. One of the most famous literary works featuring a werewolf is "The Wolfman" by Marie de Villeneuve, which introduced elements of tragic transformation and a curse, themes that would continue to be explored in later literature.

In the 20th century, the werewolf evolved into a complex and multifaceted character. With the advent of cinema and the horror genre, werewolves became popular subjects for films like "The Wolf Man" (1941) and "An American Werewolf in London" (1981). These films portrayed the werewolf as a tortured and sympathetic figure, struggling with their monstrous nature.

In contemporary literature and popular culture, the werewolf has continued to evolve. Authors like Anne Rice and Patricia Briggs have explored the psychological and emotional aspects of lycanthropy in their novels, portraying werewolves as individuals with unique abilities and challenges. The popular "Twilight" series by Stephenie Meyer introduced a new generation to the idea of werewolves as members of a close-knit pack, bound by loyalty and a shared destiny.

The werewolf, a creature born of ancient mythology, has undergone a remarkable evolution in literature and popular culture. From its origins in Greek and Roman mythology to its prominent place in medieval European folklore, and its subsequent reimagining in the modern era, the werewolf has adapted to reflect the changing fears, beliefs, and values of society. Today, the werewolf remains a symbol of the eternal struggle between the human and the beast within, a reflection of our ongoing fascination with the supernatural and the mysteries of the human psyche. Its enduring presence in literature and mythology ensures that the legend of the werewolf will continue to evolve and captivate audiences for generations to come.

[klaine-a03-feed]

Hidden Guardian

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/hdQVMes by annepi Kurt Hummel thought he was alone on his late-night walk - until the bullies found him. Just when things were getting dangerous, a mysterious creature emerged from the shadows. As Kurt uncovers the truth behind his protector, he discovers that sometimes secrets are hidden in the most unexpected places. Klaintober Prompt Week 2: Hidden Monster Words: 6077, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Klainetober2024 Fandoms: Glee (TV 2009) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel, Rick Nelson Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Light Horror Elements, Bullying, Shapeshifting, aswang, LIght blood and injury

[tonydaddingham]

am i missing something in kinda comparing the entire maggie and nina situation to paris? 'cause there was no need to get them to fall in love. a&c might not be able to make people actually feel it, but they seem to have mind control down pat without much effort (or any moral quandaries). they could have waited for an angel to show up and just faked it- easy, certain way out. it's not like the idea of working together like that is even weird, not after the gabriel miracle.

so. either they missed it, which is plausible, and uhhh, renders this whole ask pointless, or *would* have moral issues with it (also plausible💀), or they're being completely ridiculous again, and would rather plan balls than actually make an effort to get themselves out of Mortal Fucking Peril (not that aziraphale necessarily knows it is). i think it would fit the pattern, honestly- when not having huge blowouts over *problems of their own making* (hey aziraphale kill this kid it'll be fine, aziraphale why won't you ditch earth with me, crowley why won't you come to heaven with me), the ineffables always seem to be constantly, aggressively orbiting eachother, making heart eyes and goofing off (cough end of the resurrectionists "not kind" cough) with 0 regard for safety except for the (very very sadly i can't find the -ennial word for every other century) occasional heart attack, and then just skipping right back down the aisle.

(hope this is coherent, i've been editing things a little too long to tell)

hello @aq-uatic my darling!!!💕

(bby im so sorry!!! i thought i had posted this ages ago and i went rooting around in the drafts to continue something else and realised i hadn't!!! im an idiot sorry!!!)

i think there is some context behind aziraphale's actions in particular with this scene:

we know that aziraphale has a fondness for maggie, that i'd argue goes slightly beyond the fondness he has for humans in general (and even then that's questionable at times), and he seems genuinely put out that he's not in a position to help her - to wiggle his fingers about, and make it happen for her (horrifying implications, aziraphale, but we move). so, whilst aziraphale obviously is prompted into the whole 'lets-make-these-two-humans-fall-in-love-bc-that's-totally-normal-and-okay' by holding the everyday record back in the bookshop, i think there is an element of aziraphale genuinely wanting to help her, and coming up with the ball is his interpretation of an organic way to do that (💀). but it doesn't justify the whole thing one little bit; despite the possibility of that being his intention, it's completely batshit - nina certainly didnt know, let alone consent, to anything, and maggie didn't either; they're not dolls for either of them to play around with.

essentially though, i agree - any logical, coherent, sensible thinking would have probably just helped them arrive at a solution that didn't involve warping reality and bringing a whole room of people under a horrifying amount of hypnosis. but you have two supernatural creatures who, in a fairly major way by the time of 2023 at least, have their sense of existing amongst humanity influenced by not only the clandestine, dramatic nature of their own story, but by their tendencies towards damsel-but-not-wholly-in-distress-ing and anti-hero-at-best-ing respectively. we have to barely scratch the surface to see the intertextuality between these traits of theirs, and where they might stem from stories told in certain books and movies (emma by jane austen, and james bond spring to mind).

they constantly talk in riddles to each other, in code and in double meanings - they may somewhat understand the general sense of what the other is saying, but it's not categorical and leaves too much room for error or misinterpretation (which, ultimately, it does). it's a constant dance circling each other, ebbing and flowing, pulling in and drawing back, but never coming together properly; it's a quadrille vs. a waltz.

it makes sense that they are so used to finding the most roundabout and convoluted ways to do things, and this continues into s2, because not only is it how it tends to go down in fiction, but also because that's literally how they've had to exist - not only so their closeness isn't detected, or so their true natures aren't suspected by their respective head offices, but also by nature of being literal supernatural creatures living amongst humans - sleeper agents, of a kind - and constantly having to exist without detection.

none of this makes it right, of course not - but i actually don't think they see any other way of going about things. they're so good at it, so well practiced, that (as just two examples) they run verbal rings around gabriel/metatron (book) and beelzebub chattering about the great vs. ineffable plans at the airfield, and they dance around the most straightforward solution to the maggie/nina problem. as for themselves and their relationship, they dont speak plainly to each other until the bandstand or final fifteen... and even then, i feel like its aziraphale that is maybe the first to break and speak plainly? idk:

i think it's clear that crowley is the more scared, and therefore the more cautious, in this regard. for all his objections attempting to distance himself as an angel compared to crowley's being a demon, aziraphale feels to me that he is the more inclined to throw caution to the wind. i think its because crowley understands the danger in blowing their cover a little more than aziraphale does - aziraphale on multiple occasions slips in nearly admitting their closeness (1800, end of 1827 as you pointed out, and when meeting with the archangels in heaven in s1) - and is still stuck in the safety that dancing around what should be plainly said affords them. they both - as you wonderfully put it - aggressively orbit each other, and breaking the holding pattern comes a little too late.

so no, i think your drawing the parallel between the Weird-Ass dynamic in 1793, how they handle the maggie/nina storyline, and then how they behave with each other, is very apt! but its, at this time, arguably all that they've known - acting in this way - and breaking the cycle is starting to happen, but won't pay its dividends until s3✨

[decidentia]

And now for something completely different. We’re in the thick of spooky season, and I’d love to get some more horror-based threads on the go! I’ve put together some vague prompts, if any of them tickle your fancy let me know. They can be tweaked as necessary, can involve any combination of characters, etc. I’d also love to hear of any settings / scenes you’ve been itching to explore.

one:

Urban explorers decide to investigate an abandoned asylum with a regrettable history. As they delve into the decaying halls, they awaken the dormant spirits of former patients, unleashing a terror that challenges their sanity. We could have a more Outlast approach, if that’s preferable to the ghostly one.

two:

We’re talking remote forest, we’re talking cults. The threat is not only the people, but the creature they worship, or hope to keep appeased. I’m thinking something vaguely Until Dawn or The Ritual inspired.

three:

Specimen 44 is held in a subterranean containment unit, far beneath a respected albeit remote research facility. It breaches its bonds, and slaughter ensues. Our characters can be among the scientists, security forces, domestic workers, or visitors to the site, etc. A little bit Carrion, a little bit The Thing, a little bit Inside.

four:

In some futuristic, intergalactic setting, our characters are employed as miners. It’s filthy and dangerous work, but generously paid. It takes them across universes, to planets that have been identified to have rich, highly sought-after natural resources. Trouble is, these planets are almost always inhabited in some way. Miners are trained to delve deep into the crust, working in small, specialised units. This includes eradicating any creatures that stand in their way. We could cut the space element and have something more The Descent inspired. Either way, prepare for suffocating, subterranean horror.

five:

One was a monster, one was a monster-hunter, can I make it any more obvious? This is super flexible, can involve any number of settings, and all sorts of supernatural (or paranormal) creatures. Equally it could be a clairvoyant and a spirit. Give me someone who’s tired of being lumbered with all the unresolved bullshit that the spirits land them with. I’m thinking Odd Thomas, I’m thinking The Sixth Sense, I’m thinking of the fanfiction Ghost Story.