#they are ABSOLUTELY giving magical forest creature

[ifyunhoyunho]

don’t even look at me this is the only thing i’m gonna be talking about for the foreseeable future

[animasola86]

🐺 A FILLING EXPERIENCE

knotting!dildo x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 9.8k

You were a little drunk and very horny when you browsed the website looking for a new sex toy. When your order arrives, however, you feel like you did something very wrong. Or did you? Maybe it'll grow on you? (Not sure that's a good thing, though.) Prepare for a wild ride.

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Sex toys! Possessed sex toys. Masturbation. Knotting. Referenced werewolves. Referenced A/B/O dynamics. Possession. Vaginal sex. Breeding. Memory loss. (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: The prompt was "knotting, masturbation, sex toys". The pairing is what it is. For a reference picture of the star of the show (aka the dildo) check it on AO3! (Also, very surprisingly, but this is not an ad for Bad Dragon, I swear.)

You spend a whole minute staring at the item you just pulled out of the unassuming box. The sheer size of it both makes your head spin and mouth very, very dry (at the same time, you feel a growing wetness somewhere much lower). Wow. Just wow. What is that thing? You're absolutely sure you ordered it in a different size, the smallest to be exact, so this can't be right.

Licking your lips, you blink, focusing back on the packaging. There isn't anything on the box, but you find a little sheet of paper next to the satin bag it came with. The dimensions listed make you frown. Putting the hefty item back on your desk, you fumble for the ruler you keep in one of the drawers. Then you start measuring the damn thing.

It's almost nine inches long, if you dismiss the large base that holds it steady to any surface. The head is the smallest part, two inches wide and tapered, the shaft flares out then, you measure two and a half inches in width, sloping into a soft curve lined with ridges and little nubs, before the main attraction protrudes in a rather menacing way: the knot, two bulbous bumps, and they even added thick veins to the design. Your hand is shaking when you put the ruler next to it. Three point five six inches wide.

That's a lot. Way too much. This will never fit inside you. Ever.

And still you are intrigued. Of course you are, you ordered that dildo for a reason, even if it came in the wrong size. (You could return it, you know that, but it's been a thrill to order it in the first place, so sending it back seems like too much of a hassle.) But just seeing it now, sitting heavy on your desk, with your small hand resting beside it, with its intricate and strangely realistic textures, it looks too intimidating.

You've read these werewolf stories where some fair maiden stumbles through the forest and ends up getting relentlessly knotted by the monster (or the more modern versions of some alpha male knotting his omega mate to help them through their heat, which always fascinated you a little more because it seemed not as fantastical). The idea to have something big inside you, filling you, stretching you out, and then something even bigger holding you in place, making it impossible to move, gives you chills, in the good way.

You may have been a little drunk and very horny when you ordered this fantasy dildo, but seeing it now, in the “flesh”, makes you very anxious. This was a stupid purchase. It won't be the same anyway. It's just the disembodied dick of a creature that doesn't exist in the first place. You'll be stuffed, sure, but you'll miss the warmth and the strength of whoever this would be attached to.

You sigh. Well, nothing you can do about it. You neither have a boyfriend to test this out with nor do you possess any magical abilities to make that fantasy come true, and as of right now, you don't see yourself using the damn thing anyway. It's too large (your other dildos look downright puny in comparison), and you are too small.

Despite it all, it is mesmerizing you. You chose a deep midnight blue as the color, that blends from a lighter blue at the tip into an almost black at the base, which makes it look slightly slimmer than it is. Slowly you move your hand up and close it around the curved shaft, well, you try, your fingers are too short to reach all the way around. You still slide your palm along the ridges and bumps, feeling the firm smooth silicone. It gives way in some places, you can bend it just a little bit, but when your hand reaches the knot, those bulbs feel almost a little too rigid.

You squeeze them, watching your knuckles blanching, knowing you will never have the same grip with your pussy. Warmth rushes into your cheeks at the thought. Biting your lip, you keep stroking the strange toy, getting a feel for it, trying to imagine how it would fit inside you. With how hefty the base is, you would have to put it on the ground and lower yourself onto it, which sounds like a workout you're not so sure you'd like.

But maybe the base comes off and you can use it like a regular dildo, snuggled into bed, hidden under your blanket? You lift the thing up and try to twist the base, but nothing happens. Hmm. At least it's sturdy. You find a little hole at the bottom, and you remember you ordered it with a... what did they call it, cumtube? Sounds weird, but it's just a long tube you can fill with cum-like lube that shoots out at some point? You're not too clear on the workings of that. But the idea to be filled by something warm and sticky makes your stomach tense up in anticipation.

Shifting on your chair, you inhale sharply and pull your hand away from the dark blue item. Well, this is not going to happen, not now. Maybe never. The idea is nice, but you don't see it being too pleasurable in reality. So you pack it up into its unassuming black satin bag along with the bottle of lube and the long tube it came with, and store it in the lowest drawer of your desk. Out of sight, out of mind.

Or so you hope.

When you go to bed that night, you see the large dildo in your mind's eye, and you recall these smutty stories, you imagine the grunts of the werewolf as he fucks the poor woman beneath him, rutting into her like the feral creature he is. And how she screams when he bottoms out, pressing all those inches into her, forcing his knot to stretch her entrance, how her pussy lips grip around it and pull it further inside. You have your hand between your legs as you try to imagine what it must feel like to be this full, to be bred and filled, with nowhere to go, stuck on those bulging bulbs.

A moan escapes you as your body shudders. You could try it. You have the hardware. It's right there. You just have to get up and get it... But you're too cozy in bed, under your warm blanket, with your fingers rubbing hard circles around your clit. You end up coming to the idea of it, and that's enough for you. Content with your heart racing, you exhale loudly, wiping your wet fingers on your thigh before you snuggle into the bedding and close your eyes, falling into a dreamless sleep.

Maybe not as dreamless as you've hoped. You wake up the next morning with a dry throat and sticky thighs, your mind swimming with images of cocks plunging into squelching holes, of being held down and ravaged, and you shudder at the memory. Blinking your eyes into focus, you sit up – and freeze.

There, on top of your desk, sits the large dark blue dildo, shining in the sunlight filtering through your window. No way. You've put it into the drawer, into its bag, far away, and even though you thought about using it last night, you didn't. And even if, you wouldn't put it back on the desk like that, right? But it's there, almost mocking you. Slowly you stand up and walk towards your desk, reaching out a hand to touch the smooth surface.

It's sticky, almost warm to the touch. What the hell? But you haven't used it, you're sure, you'd certainly remember it, wouldn't you? Shaking your head, you dismiss it for the moment and start your morning routine as if nothing happened.

Before you leave for the day, you grab the dildo and the toy cleaner you keep in your bedside table and give it a good scrub. Then you hide it away again, shutting the drawer with a firm thud. You are tempted to put a lock on it, but that's just silly.

Later that evening, you sit in bed and scroll through the stories on your phone, mindlessly skimming through your preferred genres. Somehow you end up on another knotting story. What are the odds. This one is set in the omegaverse, depicting an alpha bodyguard taking care of the omega girl in his care... by knotting her senseless. Just your kind of story. You end up with your fingers in your cunt, rubbing and poking desperately as you read.

You're close, your thighs twitching with every brush against your sensitive clit, stomach tense, feet curling into the sheets as you pump your hips. Your breaths are frantic, heart thundering inside your chest. Soundless, strangled gasps escape you (you're always mindful of your noises, these walls are thin and you don't want to alarm or entertain your neighbors) and you squirm and writhe, your phone falling out of your hand when you have to clutch at the edge of the bed.

“Fuck,” you croak out quietly while you roll onto your side and press your thighs together, trapping your hand, fingers stilling inside your clenching pussy as your body convulses under the mind-numbing throes of your orgasm.

You lie there for a moment, taking deep gulps of air into your burning lungs, slowly calming down again. Through the dark room you look towards your desk. And you can see it, your new toy, hidden away, waiting, and before you know it, you stumble off the bed and rip the drawer open and the large dildo out of its bag. You don't even care about the lube at this point.

With your back pressed into the bed, you rub the tapered tip between your wet folds, gathering your slick. You need both hands to guide the big thing back and forth, it's quite heavy. With your heart racing and your stomach fluttering, you angle your hips, feet pressed into the bed, and then you push. The head parts your lips and sinks into your entrance, and it's already a stretch that makes you inhale sharply.

But you keep going, your arms shaking under the exertion of forcing the toy deeper. You feel its protruding ridges and nubs rubbing against your soft walls as you start moving it in and out slowly. There's still so much of it in your hands, but the curve of the thing already presses between your tight muscles. You turn it slightly, figuring out which way feels best, and in doing so drill it even further.

You stop before your pussy lips brush against the bulbous knot, and you hold it tightly when you let the thing just rest inside you for a moment, feeling its girth and length and weight, its textures and shape. Clenching around the toy, you try to relax on the bed, grinding your hips slowly against your hands. It feels amazing, those ridges and nubs seem to hit all the right spots. Little moans slip from your parted lips, mouth hanging open as you squeeze your eyes shut.

The base is heavy between your fingers, and you feel them cramping slightly as you continue to move the large dildo in and out, considering using it like it's intended to be used: standing upright on the ground as you impale yourself on it. But it's a daunting thought, and your legs are already shaking badly. You doubt you have enough strength left to do squats on it now.

So you keep pumping half of it into your tight cunt, both hands closed around the hefty base, hips meeting your thrusts, the wet squelching sounds echoing through your room, adding to the growing arousal inside you. Your wrists hurt under the strain, but you're desperate now, hectic whines escaping you as you double your efforts, pushing and pulling, ramming that damn thing into you as fast as you can.

Arching your back and lifting your hips off the bed, you lean into the impending release, so close, a few more nudges, come on – when a sudden cold breeze over your sweaty face alerts you to something you cannot stop. It's as if an unseen force pushes the dildo with you, stronger than your own hands, an assist you didn't ask for.

But you're too far gone, gasping with your mouth wide open, head pressed into your pillow, thighs twitching, the tension ready to explode, and then it does, and at the same time as your orgasm crashes over you, a strange jerk goes through your body, and your usually voiceless cry becomes a real one, an almost scream as you feel your clenching cunt being stretched. Your hands fall away from the toy in an attempt to let it pop out and relish in the empty feeling as your contractions shake your body, but there's no empty feeling, because you're not empty.

You're stuffed. Somehow the knot has made it into your tight channel and your pussy lips grip the shaft beneath it, and as much as you push and clench, it doesn't budge. Cold panic rips you from your post-orgasmic bliss. Your hands claw at the base sticking out of you as you gyrate your hips, feeling every ridge and nub and bump pressing hard into your fluttering walls, but the toy is lodged within you. How did that happen?

Breathing harder, both from the exertion and the anxiety of having a sex toy stuck in your cunt, you wail quietly, rolling onto your side, lifting your leg, pulling on the damn thing. No chance. It's in there now. Knot and all, and the more you squirm, the more you feel the tapered tip pressing into depths nothing has ever pressed into before. It's a strange pain, sharp and piercing, a jolt of electricity with every movement of your body.

You lie on your back now, legs still angled, thighs twitching, trying to calm yourself down. You need to relax your muscles to get it out, you know that, but it's hard, as hard as the toy inside you. And somehow you feel it... expanding? No, that must be your imagination. It's not one of those inflatable things, you made sure of that. But the stretch is there, and it hurts.

Your hands are back between your legs, gripping the hefty base, but in your attempt to rip it out somehow, you suddenly feel it loosening and with another surprised/pained gasp, you realize you're holding the base of the toy – but without the toy.

“No!” you wail louder, staring at the dark piece of silicone between your fingers. It came right off, not as sturdy as initially suspected after all. You throw it aside and finger at the now-base of the fake shaft. It's barely sticking out now, your cunt eager to swallow it whole it seems. Whining in panic, you try to hook a finger between your tightly stretched skin and the dildo, but there's no way you can grip it like this.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as your anxiety grows. Chill. Calm down, it'll pop out on its own, they always do, don't worry, you try to soothe yourself. Not the first time you accidentally pushed a toy in too deep, but those were smooth ones, half as long and half as thick, with no ridges or knots, of course they'd slip out again. But this thing? It's a fucking knot, designed, by nature, to keep itself lodged inside any unsuspecting hole.

You think back to those stories you read about the topic. Those were fictional though, and every author handled it slightly differently. In some of them, the knot would just deflate when the man (or werewolf) was done dumping his potent load into his victim or mate, in others it stayed bulbous and inflated for a long time, locking the two people together, which, in a way, is a romantic thing and something you'd like to experience once in your life as well, but there's nobody attached to the dildo in your cunt, no one to hold you, to calm you, to rub your back and ease you through the pain of stretching and being filled.

The thought makes you sad, and in your frustration you buck your hips, only to gasp when the motion causes the toy to rub against these very sensitive spots that make your toes curl. You move your pelvis again, ripping a quiet moan from your throat, and then you fall into a slow rhythm of undulating into the bed, one hand back on your mound, feeling the tight fit of the toy before you start rubbing your swollen clit gently.

Before you know it, you work yourself to yet another orgasm, and the dildo seems to work with you. You even nudge its base a little, pushing it deeper, right against that sweet spot in the far back, and you groan at the sensation of pleasure/pain as you thrash your head into the pillow. Rolling onto your side, you keep grinding against the heavy thing inside you, panting under the exertion, your body curled up tightly, just like the coil in your tense stomach.

You're teetering on the edge, head empty except for that delicious cotton that makes you forget everything. It feels so good. The stretch, the pressure, the snug fit, those ridges and nubs and those seemingly pulsing bulbs pressing right against your g-spot. Mewls and wails fall from your trembling lips, and in your haze, you end up on your stomach where you lift your hips up and start humping your mattress feverishly.

The additional stimulation to your clit makes you cry out loudly, and you can only muffle your noises by pressing your face into the pillow. Your hard nipples rub against the fabric of your shirt with every gyrating motion with how you scrape your chest over the bed, and it doesn't take long before you stumble right over the edge, your muscles clenching hard around the toy, squeezing with all they have, as a million bright lights explode around you.

You're too far gone to think at that point, but if you would have been able to, you'd wonder why the toy doesn't come shooting out of your convulsing channel like most other toys would. It's not just the knot holding it in place, there's a strange force keeping your hips up and the dildo inside you. But you notice none of it, not the stiff position of your body as you tremble and quake, hands clawing at the sheets, knuckles white, fingers hurting, you just keep riding the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

You do, however, feel a familiar warmth gathering deep inside you, and you assume it's your own release waiting to gush past the item if it weren't for the knot plugging you up like a cork. Though it feels a little different, not something your body produced due to high stimulation, but something being added...

You groan deeply when your body makes a forward jerk as you feel the toy moving within you. Which shouldn't be possible. It's almost as if it's pulsing, throbbing, twitching, and with those motions something hot pushes into you, filling you up, seeping into every nook and cranny left by the large toy invading your already tight space. You shudder deeply, wondering in your fucked-out state what's going on, before you feel a strange stretch, a pressure building up inside you, and then, like an airlock being lifted, a strange squelching sound appears and you feel something hot and sticky trickling down your leg.

Remaining in your bent-over position, you move a hand between your legs and feel for whatever is leaking out of you. It's thick, thicker than your own juices, and much stickier. You bring it to your eyes, and whatever liquid it is, it pulls into thin strands as you part your fingers. Feels like cum. You blink at the sight and feel of it, and in your stupor, you roll onto your side, feeling more of it gathering between your legs.

When you're on your back again, you lift your hips, your sticky hand rubbing over your bare stomach, trying to ignore how tense and full it feels, down to your mound, teasing at the stretched opening. You feel the silicone against your fingertips, and it's no longer an intruder you want to get out immediately, it's become a strangely comforting feeling, despite the out of nowhere appearing cum-like substance. Maybe you filled it up before you used it? You can't remember, honestly. Does it matter? Not really.

You enjoy the feeling of fullness, the stretch and pressure, how with every slight movement the toy's ridges dig into your soft walls. The curve of it fits perfectly inside you, and the bulbous knot makes it sit so snug, as if it was made specifically for your cunt. You almost laugh at your initial apprehension and how you thought that huge thing would never fit into your tiny body, but look at you now, stuffed and happy.

With one hand on your mound, now eager to keep the toy in, as you rub your swollen labia gently, you roll onto your side and snuggle into your bed, your other hand pulling the sheets over your sweat-slick, sticky body. You don't care about washing up, you just want to sleep, softly riding out the blissful tremors of what this amazing toy has made you feel.

Closing your eyes, you imagine lying next to your alpha mate, or even a fluffy werewolf, as he holds you tightly pressed to his warm body, cock stuck inside your clenching cunt, knotting you to your (and his) heart's content.

But despite feeling exhausted, you can't stop grinding your hips against your hand, breathing harder when the warmth and tension builds up all over again as the dildo presses into all the right places. Soft moans slip from your dry lips, a shudder crashing through you at the feel of the tight knot stretching your sensitive skin. That last orgasm before you actually fall asleep is a mild one, a soothing thing washing over you, a warm embrace from something that isn't there.

You wake up with a sigh, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to start the new day. There is a strange soreness between your legs, as well as a very sticky sensation on your skin, but you don't care much for it – before you sit up and yelp when a sudden pain crashes through you. You stand up so fast your head is spinning, and as you press a hand to your mound, you can feel that the dildo is still lodged snugly inside you.

Yet you don't even have time to panic as the room grows dark all of a sudden. Then it all happens very fast. Somehow you are being turned and bent over the foot of the bed, chest pressed into the mattress by a force you can't explain. Your hands grip for the sheets as you struggle against whatever is holding you down. Are you still dreaming? You can't be sure. It feels too real.

And the pain when something pulls at the dildo in your cunt, when the knot stretches your pussy lips as it forces its way past them, is very, very real and makes you wail into the bedding. After the first stretch, the rest of the toy slips out easily, and with it comes a flood of something warm and sticky, spraying against your inner thighs, dripping down your legs, pooling around your bare feet on the floor. You gasp at the sudden emptiness.

All that wasted seed, you think as if someone has planted the thought into your head. Better put in a new load. Before you can properly wonder about where those words came from, you feel something nudging against your stretched entrance. You stand on shaking legs, ass in the air, torso pushed down into the bed, and you struggle, or try to, but you can't move. It's as if you're frozen in time and place, held down by an invisible force.

It's too dark to see anything, not that you could anyway with how your face is buried in the sheets. All you can do is take it, and even that you're not sure you can. It feels like something is standing behind you, something cold that lets goosebumps ripple over your exposed skin, and at the same time there's something very hot sinking into your fluttering cunt. You know it's the silicone toy warmed by your own body, but it feels different somehow. It feels... real.

You grunt with every sharp stab it gives you, parting your folds, plunging deep, but not as deep, teasing you with those ridges and nubs that scrape over your gummy walls, and the swell of that knot nudges against your entrance, never breaching it. Not yet anyway. The pace is brutal, a feral rutting, pistoning in and out fast and hard, and you can barely contain your noises anymore. They're muffled but still loud in your ears. Maybe because they're the only thing you hear, aside from the wet squelching of your cunt.

Whatever is pushing that dildo into you, whatever took over for you, doesn't make a sound, but you can feel it, you know it's there, holding you down and restrained. Whatever it is.

As sure as you are about the invisible force fucking you on your own bed, you are about the impending orgasm creeping closer with every hard thrust. The constant in and out of the rigid toy makes your head spin, your stomach tense, your thighs tremble. You're moaning and mewling, desperate for release as the warmth gathers in your core, ready to burst free. You even manage to press your hips back and meet the motions of the toy pounding into you.

And then you come, wailing loudly, barely restrained, lights exploding behind your eyelids as your body shudders and convulses, and you feel something wet splattering on the wooden floor, adding to the mess pooling around your feet. You've never squirted before, but you just know that's what happened, if you could analyze the moment, which you can't because your head is deliciously empty as you let bliss take over your thinking apparatus.

You barely register how the toy keeps plunging into your wet cunt, those squelching noises obscene if you would care about them, and as you still float on that amazing high, you feel its thrusts getting slower, slightly deeper, more deliberate, those bulging bulbs nudging firmer against your pussy lips, and suddenly the pressure grows stronger, making you gasp and your legs shake badly, and you fight it, stiffen, muscles tensing up, making it all the worse, but whatever controls the large dildo doesn't care as it pushes it further into your protesting cunt.

You let out a deep groan when it finally breaches the tight squeeze, stretching your sensitive skin, slipping into you, and that motion, the getting swallowed by your own body, turns your wails of distress into cries of pure pleasure as you come again around the invading object, your walls fluttering around the knot. You almost lose your footing, but the force that's penetrating you is still holding you up, no matter how badly your body spasms against the bed.

The dildo is back inside of you, all of it, from the tapered tip that teases at your cervix to the swollen protrusions to the bit of shaft after that. Your cunt clenches around all of it, holding it in place, hugging it to its contracting walls, letting it rub against all those special spots. And you keep shaking, so sensitive by now the slightest motion causes you to gasp and shudder. You'd be content like this, having it inside you, just resting, as heavy and large as it is, but whatever decided to take over, doesn't see it that way.

While you couldn't possibly push the thing deeper the last time it was wedged into you, you now feel it moving, nudging further, the hard tip pressing into your depths, stretching you in a way you've never been stretched before. It hurts, but it also feels good. And it's good that you think so, as you don't have a choice in the matter anyway.

The toy is pushed and pulled in slow fluid motions, and you feel the knot pressing hard against your entrance, stretching but never leaving your cunt. That doesn't stop the force behind you, though. The shallow thrusts continue until they turn into a desperate rutting, quick short stabs that make you howl as they bully both your deepest spot and the tight muscles of your hole. It's painful in the best way possible, and you feel your legs trembling, your stomach tensing, that warmth filling you up before it all explodes, catapulting you over the edge all over again.

You scream as you come, luckily muffled by how your face is still pressed into the bedding, but the sensation isn't any less extreme. Your orgasm crashes over you like the biggest tidal wave you've ever experienced, not that you have seen any of those before, but it sure feels like it hits you straight in the chest and drags you along, throwing you around, unrelenting, merciless, as you're being pushed and pulled and gasping for air.

Your walls clench hard around the still pistoning intruder, the curve, the ridges, the nubs, that fucking knot, all playing vital roles in keeping you afloat (or drowning), prolonging the gloriously mind-blowing experience. You feel dizzy, your heart thundering in your chest, lungs burning, body arching and spasming, as you are being hurdled from one orgasm to the next, or so it feels, and it never ends, not even when the toy suddenly stills, pushed as deep as possible, and then it throbs.

Even though you're barely able to feel anything anymore, you can feel its vibrations, the thrum from deep within it, and it shouldn't do that, it's not a vibrating toy, you tell yourself, it's also not an inflating one, but it still seems to swell, or the knot is, and it's pulsing against your tense muscles, stretching them, working inside you, and then... it unloads.

The warmth it fills you with is scorching, so filling you feel it bulging your stomach, which shouldn't be possible, and you may even taste it on your tongue as you gulp for air. It's all around you, but mostly inside you, and there it stays because the knot keeps it from spilling out. You are plugged shut, and it keeps pumping, giving you more, and it feels both oddly comforting and terrifyingly too much. You feel like bursting, so full, way too full, but all you can do is groan quietly.

With your mind still reeling, you are suddenly moved, lifted up by invisible hands (or paws?), cradled against something strangely warm as you're being put onto your side on the bed, your stomach fluttering and bulging, tensing badly under the onslaught of whatever liquid is pumped into your depths. The knotting dildo remains deep inside you, stuck and locked in, and you become drowsy, exhausted from whatever just happened. The darkness is still all around you, but you feel warm and content and taken good care of.

A smile grazes your dry lips as you imagine lying in the embrace of a mate, a lover, holding you after the strenuous ordeal of being knotted and bred, as their cock keeps pumping cum into you, as you remain tied together. And it feels so real...

Your eyes flutter close, and you inhale deeply, shifting slightly with your precious cargo inside you. As you drift into unconsciousness, the room grows brighter again, letting in the warm sunlight of a day already reaching its halfway point. Of course, you notice none of that, gone as you are.

When you stir awake, the darkness is back, this one real, lying like a heavy blanket all around you, while you lie on your side, shivering because you seemed to have kicked off your own blanket. Once you come to fully, you feel a little strange. Your mind is fuzzy, laden with images that couldn't have happened. Did you dream all that? Surely. It would be too weird if not.

But then why do you feel full when at the same time you are blatantly empty? Rolling onto your back, you grind your hips, assessing if you were indeed knotted and bred, but there's nothing. Your stomach rumbles, and when you touch it, it's normal, not bulged and tense but soft, and that's probably where the emptiness comes from. You're hungry, but that hunger also feels like an air pocket inside you, too big to ignore, giving you the feeling of being full? It's a strange sensation, to say the least.

And then there's another kind of emptiness. The one sitting invisibly in your aching little cunt disguised as nothingness. The toy is gone. You recall vividly how deep it's been in you, how stuck and immobile and heavy it sat between your clenching walls, but now they are fluttering around nothing. Where did it go?

You sit up, rubbing your naked arms, realizing you are indeed completely naked. Strange, didn't you go to bed with your sleep shirt? And why is it dark? It's been morning before, what happened to the rest of the day? You lean over to the lamp on your bedside table and the dark room is suddenly bathed in a warm yellow light, causing your eyes to wander straight towards your desk.

And there it is, sitting on its hefty base, the dark blue knotting dildo, in all its glory, with its curve, those ridges and nubs, and the formidable two bulbs making up the knot of the thing. You blink at the sight, confusion washing over you like a cold shiver. Slowly you stand up, groaning as you do, feeling your limbs shaking. Why are you so weak? Rubbing your stomach, you take a few steps before you almost slip on the floor.

Something wet coats the soles of your feet, and when you look down there's a big puddle of something shiny all over the wooden boards. Some of it is clear, but there's also a white shimmer to it, and you feel your heart accelerating as you remember how that came to be (even if the memory is faint, but seeing the evidence makes it all the more real and that frighteningly so). The feeling of being filled to the brim and leaking with the rest of it, the sensation of coming so hard you squirted all over the floor, while a strange force pounded your new toy into your willing body. Has it really happened? Apparently. But how is that possible?

Your heart beats faster as you keep walking until you reach the large dildo, standing proud and tall and girthy. You reach out with a shaking hand, carefully sliding your fingers over the textured shaft, tracing the thick veins on it. It feels warm and sticky, and it makes your blood run cold. It feels real, and it shouldn't. You know that. You're not crazy.

But there are too many things you just can't explain. How did it get back on the desk, back on the base you seemingly broke off last time? How was it possible that the toy fucked you on its own, in that bent-over position, and why weren't you able to move as it happened?

You feel chills all over your naked body. In that moment your rational mind just gives up. Normally you don't believe in ghosts or anything supernatural, but how else could you explain any of this? Is the toy haunted? Possessed?

It's a silicone thing, man-made, fabricated to cater to certain people's needs, a fantasy product, but it feels real, it pumped seemingly real cum into you (or so you think, it could still have been loaded with that artificial stuff without your knowledge and by squeezing it too hard you made it come out?), it fucked you as if attached to the real deal (whatever the real deal was).

Staring at the item, you lick your lips, eyes scanning every inch of its ridged surface. As creepy as this whole situation is, you still can't deny how good it felt also. How full and happy you were, how many times you came as it rammed into you, how those little nubs felt against your tense walls. They clench just remembering it. And somehow, from the darkest corner of your mind, comes the need to put it back in, feel it again, let the knot lock you up...

A shaky sigh escapes you, and you force yourself to look away from its tantalizing appeal. No. You can't. It'll all happen again, a mind-blowing fuckfest, and you'll waste another day in bed or wherever this thing wants to fuck you, or you it, it's still unclear how that happened, and maybe it was just your extremely horny mind who made up the idea of it being controlled by somebody else, maybe it has been you all along, driven crazy by sheer lust as you rammed that knot into your own cunt.

Shaking your head to clear it, you step away and into the bathroom. You spend a long time in there, inspecting and washing and handling your sore body, and when you emerge again, wrapped in a towel with your wet hair falling over your shoulders, the toy is still sitting on your desk. You watch it, but don't approach it. Instead you leave the room and venture into the kitchen to satiate the human need of eating, and after you sat at the counter and shoveled a bowl of cereal into your achingly empty stomach, you return to your bedroom.

The sight of that thing haunts you. You feel antsy just looking at it. In the end, you pick it up and put it down on the wooden desk chair, something you feel like doing, as if something put that thought into your head, a not too unfamiliar sensation. Then you pull the chair back, drop your towel and move to sit down on it. Again, you're barely thinking about it, it's like a need, an urge, a thing that feels right.

So you squat down on the toy, feeling the tapered tip pressing between your folds, and as soon as it breaches your entrance, pushing against your sore muscles, you gasp, hands curled around the edge of the desk to ground yourself as you let gravity do the rest. Or most of it. You feel the curve sinking into your tight depths, carving a way into your gummy walls, but when the knot presses against your pussy lips, you pause, breathing harder.

It feels too big, but you know it can fit inside you, it's happened before. Inhaling deeply, you try to relax, gyrating your hips to ease it into you, but your hole's too tight, unwilling to part further. You're in that weird half-squat, hovering over the chair, arms propped on the desk in front of you, and instead of giving up, you start moving up and down, fucking yourself slowly on the curved shaft, feeling those ridges and nubs and the tip poking at those delicious spots.

You're panting from the exertion, thighs burning under the strain, but you keep going even when sweat drops down your brows. You feel as if your muscles are opening up, and before your legs give in, you slam your hips down. A shrill shriek escapes you as you feel the knot stretching you open, your sensitive skin and muscles giving way, allowing it inside before they close back around it, swallowing it and the whole thing inside of you. You moan when you feel it filling you out.

Sinking a few inches further, you feel your rear pressing against the base of the toy before you sit down fully, ass cheeks on the chair, the entirety of the dildo wedged between your tight walls. A trembling exhale escapes you as you try to relax on it, your arms shaking before you bring your hands to your lap, your chest rising and falling faster, your stomach fluttering. For a few minutes you just sit there, trying to calm your frantic breaths and your rapid heartbeat, adjusting to the filling sensation.

And then, as if you haven't just impaled yourself on a knotting dildo, you reach a hand out, turn the lamp on your desk on and pull the laptop closer that you keep at the edge of it. You've missed an entire day it seems, so you're hellbent on making up for it. As your fingers fly over the keyboard, you occasionally grind your hips into the chair, relishing in the sudden jolts of pleasure/pain as the toy nudges your insides.

You sit there and work until you've edged yourself so badly, you can barely think anymore. Leaning back in your chair with your hands flat on your desk, you inhale sharply, tilting your head back as you undulate against the toy wedged between your thighs. You're so sensitive, every single motion causes you to shiver deeply. Even the hefty base of the toy rubs delightfully against your mound, adding pressure where you didn't know you needed it. A moan escapes you, and you move your hands to your rear and pull your cheeks apart until you can grind against it better.

It feels so good. To be stuffed, to be teased like this, to feel all those little details on that firm silicone shaft. You want to congratulate whoever came up with this design. It's perfect.

In an attempt to feel more of it, you lift yourself up slightly, really wanting to ride that thing now, but of course the knot prevents you from doing so, plugging you up tightly. You can still nudge the curved dildo a little deeper, so you end up humping your chair with small shallow snaps of your hips, your thighs trembling after only a few minutes, your panting breaths loud in the quiet room.

With a little whine you stand up properly, but instead of forcing the toy out from between your clenching walls, you lift up the entire thing, base and all, as it's firmly stuck inside of you. Its weight is heavy between your legs, but you still manage to stumble towards the bed with it where you throw yourself onto your back, spread your legs, lift your hips and start pushing your hands against the base, working yourself up even more.

Once your wrists cramp up under the strain, you focus on stimulating your clit, and the first touch has you already writhing on the bed. Gasping quietly, you buck your hips against your own fingers as you keep rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves until your thighs spasm wildly. You feel the tension building, the warmth gathering inside you, and then you come with a soundless half-scream, mouth wide open, legs clamping shut around your hands as you ride out the waves of pleasure, the toy practically vibrating inside you with how your walls are fluttering around it.

Your limbs go limp then, hands falling away, legs falling open, as you try to catch your breath. Eyes closed, a stupid smile on your lips, you lie there like a stranded beetle, stomach convulsing, chest heaving. You don't notice how the darkness creeps back in, dimming out the warm light of the desk and bedside table lamp. You don't feel the cold wafting in the air around you, but you do feel the dildo moving, tiny movements, little nudges against your tight muscles until it pops out with an obscenely wet squelching sound, coaxing a deep sigh out of you.

You feel utterly relieved and satisfied and content, ready to fall asleep like that, with your legs wide open, presented on the bed like a strange little offering, and whatever lurks in the shadows around you, seems to take the bait.

It feels like your bed is moving, the mattress denting on either side of your hips, and then you're being lifted a little, and it's cold and warm at the same time as your legs are pushed up and against your chest, and as if you want this to happen, your hands move to grab your thighs, holding your legs like this. In this position you are wide open, a cool breeze on your swollen clit, your cunt clenching around nothing – but not for long.

The tapered tip pushes between your folds, eagerly sinking into your slightly stretched hole, scraping along your soft walls. The curved shaft follows, digging into you, its nubs and ridges rubbing against those sensitive spots that make you mewl softly. You are in a trance, held by lust even as exhaustion wants to pull you under. You don't question anything at this point, you just savor the sensations.

And you feel everything. The shaft moves then, in and out, shallow little stabs, carving its way deeper until you feel the bulbous knot pressing against your entrance. But it doesn't go in yet, it keeps slamming against your puffy lips, the wet squelching sounds a telltale sign of how aroused you still are. There's a strange weight to the thrusts, as if there would be more than just the toy being pushed into you, it feels as if it was attached to something much bigger, a presence you can't see (not even if you would open your eyes), but can sense in a way that feeds your longing.

The pounding continues, and that warmth builds up again, all around the thick shaft that moves between your tight walls with ease and power, in and out, fast and hard, and in an angle that makes you wail, bullying all the right spots until you can't hold it in you anymore. You come with a croaked cry as your body tenses up before it explodes into nothing but bliss, tiny lights dancing behind your eyelids, that soft warmth turning into a burning that devours all of you at once.

Through your orgasm the fake cock (or so you think) keeps pumping into you, those wet squelches are obscenely loud, and you moan and whine, hips bucking to meet the thrusts as your fingers dig into your own thighs, holding your legs squished against your breasts, your feet jumping above your head with every plunge.

And then it happens, your fluttering cunt gives way to the knot, but instead of plugging you up, it pops out, then plunges into you once more, and out again and in again, and you wail under the stretch and strange sensation of being stretched repeatedly. There's pain, but there's also blinding pleasure whenever it forces itself into you, and you keep coming from that motion alone, gasping and writhing, barely able to breathe or think or do anything but let it happen.

Now the whole length of the thing pushes into you, as deep as it'll go, bullying your cervix with its tapered tip, knot fully swallowed by your walls, then it's pulled back almost entirely before doing it all over again, driving you to the edge and over it and back and over in rapid succession. It's all a blur, but it feels so good, you could die on the spot just feeling it breaching your tight space over and over again.

Luckily, you don't die, you are just pushed from orgasm to orgasm, until every single nerve ending is buzzing and tingling, and you come to the point where you don't want to come any more. Not that the thing fucking you seems to mind that very much. It keeps going, in and out, your cunt giving off a lewd wet popping sound every time the knot is forced out and another wet slurping sound every time it's pushed in and swallowed by your walls. Along with your breathless whines and the squeaking of the bed, it's a cacophony of sounds driving you to the edge of sanity, and pleasure, and pain, and all of the above.

You feel yourself fading, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, but just as you think you'll drift off now, the thing in your cunt plunges particularly deep, a final thrust full of power and strength, a heavy weight pressing you down as it prods painfully against your already battered cervix. You cry out, your body too confused, so it makes you convulse all over again as another orgasm crashes through you. The curved shaft stills inside you, ridges and nubs and its knot settling against your fluttering walls, and you feel as if it's throbbing and twitching, and the bulbs seem to grow, stretching you further, really plugging you up now.

A groan slips from your dry lips as it starts pumping something warm and filling into your cramped depths. Spurt after spurt, more and more, until you can feel your stomach bulging, tensing under the growing load, and your head is spinning as your body comes down from that strenuous but still utterly pleasurable experience. You feel a little drunk almost, dizzy and disorientated, wondering why you are still holding your legs up. But you stay like this, submitting to whatever leans over you, holding you down with their cock.

The last bit of your rational mind tells you you're just dreaming. Of course you are. And what a nice dream it is, hm? But then your eyes flutter open, and you blink at the darkness around you. It feels impenetrable, too dark. Even at night, you can usually make out the shape of your furniture, the outline of your windows, the streetlamps trying to push their light past your curtains. But you can see absolutely nothing. Did you even open your eyes?

You blink. Yeah, you did. There's something eerie in the way you're staring into the black void in front of you, it gives you chills, makes your body shudder, and as you jerk a little, you feel the weight and the pressure inside of you. The toy. It's still in there, buried deep, and it keeps throbbing, spewing liquid warmth into you. It feels so real. Your heart beats faster, your breaths quicken.

Then a strange hum fills the air, you freeze immediately, your eyes widening. It's a soothing sound as much as it is terrifying. It makes you stiffen, frozen in place, a deep chill running down your spine. And then there's this huff, like an exhale, and you can feel warm air wafting towards you, hitting your sweat-slick face. A tiny little croak escapes you as fear grips your limbs after all.

There is something, holding you down, impaling you on its cock, leaning over you, breathing right against your quivering lips. You can't see it, no matter how hard you try, but it's there. Huffing and puffing in a low, deep rumble, an unseen weight resting between your legs. Hot tears fall from under your lashes, running down your cheeks, but they never reach the pillow beneath your head.

It's a warm sensation, wet, almost a little slimy, and it feels like a tongue lapping at your skin, and the thought alone pushes you right to the edge of hysteria. Helpless whimpers escape you, but that disembodied, unseen tongue keeps licking up the tears continuously spilling from your eyes. Warm breaths dry your wet cheeks, those little huffs quieter now, calm and collected, and they slowly ease your own breathing as you stare ahead at nothing but blackness.

A little shriek is coaxed out of your throat when you feel the same tongue on your neck now, something soft nudging your calves until you let go of your legs and let them fall open against whatever has settled between them. They don't reach the soft bedding beneath but are held up now by something else, and you're too far gone to question it anymore. With your legs down, your torso is exposed to the shadows, your breasts trembling as your chest rises and falls quicker.

Those warm huffs of air hit your sensitive nipples before something warm circles them, and you can feel them being pulled and teased, making you shiver deeply, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your clit and fluttering cunt. The thick shaft inside you throbs as well, still leaking the occasional spurt of warm fluid. The knot is pulsing, tight and harder than before, or so it feels, those bulging veins on it rubbing deliciously against your stretched flesh.

You feel yourself drifting again under all these ministrations, lulled into your own darkness.

In your dreams, or whatever reality you find yourself in, you see a large shadow leaning over you. And you are calm about it, not afraid, but content. The appearance of the figure above you is hazy, like black smoke, fraying at its edges, no clear contour to make out. But what you can see (or think to see) are strong arms, a broad torso, muscles wherever you look. A display of strength and power and dominance, and in its shadow, you feel safe, protected.

You assume it's a large man, but you can't see his face. It's still too dark. But you can feel his breath on your skin, his lips trailing around your breasts, upwards to your collarbones, before you feel that warm tongue against your neck again. You tilt your head, giving him better access, and he hums deeply, showering you with little kisses and broad strokes of his tongue. Your pulse is fluttering against his mouth, and he senses your arousal, smells it. He seems to sniff you, hovering over you, warm and heavy.

“You are mine now,” you hear a low thrum in the air, assuming it's his voice. ��My mate.”

You don't know what that means, but you're ready. You want it. And as if he can feel your approval, he leans in, his lips closing around your pulse, sucking softly, his teeth nibbling carefully, before you feel a different sensation. A pinch, a prick, a sudden cold stab when something sharp sinks into your skin.

You moan quietly as a strange warmth rushes through you (and out of you), the smell of metal wafting towards your nostrils, but you keep still, and without knowing what's happening, you let him bite you, mark you, and he grunts against you, holding your neck between his teeth as a shudder crashes through his big body that travels all the way to his cock buried deep inside of you. You feel it throbbing, the knot pulsing, and as your walls clench in response, you feel more warmth seeping into you as he fills you up again.

His hips grind against yours, soft little nudges, and you feel so good. An unusually gentle orgasm washes over you then, like a calming caress through your body that soothes you, eases your sore muscles, the slight pain in your neck, any other ailments you might have had. None of it matters anymore. You've found your mate. You're not alone anymore. You feel like coming home. Safe...

“What's your name?” you breathe out into the black void ready to consume you, not sure why you feel the need to ask this.

A huff of warm air moves over your face before a low hum vibrates in your ear. “Fenrir,” he growls quietly, and it's all you need to know as you inhale deeply, a soft smile grazing your lips.

Then, the darkness closes around you as if someone puts their hand over your eyes, whisking you away to sleep, or back to reality...

The next time you wake up, you are cuddled into your sheets, and the sunlight filters through your curtains. A new day, and you've never felt this refreshed before. Sitting up, you stretch with a soft squeak, rolling your neck, inhaling deeply. Your eyes move through the room, and the sight of the large dildo on your desk doesn't even confuse you anymore. It feels right to see it there. You stand up and walk past it on your way to the bathroom, your fingers sliding gently along its curved shaft.

In the midst of your morning routine, you hear the chime of your doorbell. Slipping into your fuzzy bathrobe, you hurry to the door, but when you reach it, whoever was there, is already gone. Though they left something behind. You bend down to pick up the small package, seeing your address on it and the usual postal stamps. Delivery? But you didn't expect anything.

You close the door and bring the unassuming box to your desk, putting it down next to the big toy on its base. Humming to yourself, mindlessly scratching at a spot on your neck, you open the package – and frown when you see its contents. Slowly you raise it out of its black satin bag. It's the dildo you ordered. The right size also. It's so small, barely as long as your hand, maybe the size of a soda can but much thinner, less than half the size of the toy that sits next to the opened box.

It's got the same design, the same ridges and nubs and the protruding bulbs of the knot, but it's so... tiny. You really ordered this? Apparently so, as you check the accompanying receipt and instructions. You can only half-remember that horny night when you browsed the site, and intimidated as you were, you chose the smallest size: Mini. You had no idea it would be this small. There's a picture of the different available sizes, and you realize the thing you actually fit into your cunt is the Large one. And just how large it is...

You shiver just thinking of having it inside you. But you also can't wait to put it back in. Your mind is hazy with memories of using it, of what really happened since you got it (and somehow you don't even wonder why you received two packages), and it's all a blur of ecstasy that makes you salivate and drip into the panties you put on.

Yet when you notice that the article has a name, you pause, blinking in confusion, your hand still scratching at what feels like a scabby wound on your neck. The name of the dildo feels familiar, like a distant memory, and it is –

As soon as you say it out loud, the big dark blue toy starts humming, its vibrations (even though you're not connected to it) sending shock waves through your whole body, activating all the right nerves. Your heart beats faster, your breaths turn into soft moans, and your cunt clenches hungrily around nothing.

“Fenrir.”

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

[stupidphototricks]

Have some Granny Weatherwax wit and wisdom and Bad Ass-ery. It's amazing how fully-formed her character was right from (practically) the very beginning of Discworld, in Equal Rites.

"If you can't learn to ride an elephant, you can at least learn to ride a horse." "What's an elephant?" "A kind of badger," said Granny. She hadn't maintained forest-credibility for forty years by ever admitting ignorance. -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

"That's one form of magic, of course." "What, just knowing things?" "Knowing things that other people don't know," said Granny. -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

"You're a bit young for this," she said, "but as you grow older you'll find most people don't set foot outside their own heads much. You too," she added gnomically. -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

"That's the biggest part of doct'rin, really. Most people'll get over most things if they put their minds to it, you just have to give them an interest." -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

She had got "diuerse" out of the Almanack, which she read every night. It was always predicting "diuerse plagues" and "diuerse ill-fortune." Granny wasn't entirely sure what it meant, but it was a damn good word all the same. -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

But Granny had spent a lifetime bending recalcitrant creatures to her bidding and, while Esk was a surprisingly strong opponent, it was obvious that she would give in before the end of the paragraph. -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

Granny, meanwhile, was two streets away. She was also, by the standards of normal people, lost. She would not see it like that. She knew where she was, it was just that everywhere else didn't. -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

"Yes," lied Granny, whose grasp of geography was slightly worse than her knowledge of subatomic physics. -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

"No, I could tell he was telling the truth. You know, Granny, you can tell how--" "Foolish child. All you could tell was that he thought he was telling the truth. The world isn't always as people see it." -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

"Um, women aren't allowed in," said Esk. Granny stopped in the doorway. Her shoulders rose. She turned around very slowly. "What did you say?" she said. "Did these old ears deceive me, and don't say they did because they didn't." "Sorry," said Esk. "Force of habit." "I can see you've been getting ideas below your station," said Granny coldly. -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

Granny smiled grimly. It was the sort of smile that wolves ran away from. -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

"Anyway, you walk wrong for rain." "I beg your pardon?" "You go all hunched up, you fight it, that's not the way. You should--well, move between the drops." And, indeed, Granny seemed to be merely damp. -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

Granny adjusted her hat and straighted up purposefully. "Right," she said. Cutangle swayed. The tone of voice cut through him like a diamond saw. He could dimly remember being scolded by his mother when he was small; well, this was that voice, only refined and concentrated and edged with little bits of carborundum, a tone of command that would have a corpse standing to attention and could probably have marched it halfway across its cemetery before it remembered it was dead. -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

"Yes, but is it safe?" Granny gave him a withering look. "Do you mean in the absolute sense?" she asked. "Or, say, compared with staying behind on a melting ice floe?" -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

"Right," she said, in a tone of voice that suggested the whole universe had just better watch out. -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

"I know. The building told me." "Yes, I was meaning to ask about that," said Cutangle, "because you see it's never said anything to me and I've lived here for years." "Have you ever listened to it?" "Not exactly listened, no," Cutangle conceded. "Not as such." -- Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

[crafteeauthor]

Very interesting the way the cat king puts on a slightly different persona (and slightly different style) each time he interacts with Edwin

First meeting, he's playing the Big Bad Sexy Cat King in full force. He's got all his cats in one space, he's high up on his throne, there's a corpse at his feet, and he talks in a condescending way. He's making it clear Edwin is in fact in trouble for using magic on a cat, but that he's pretty willing to let it slide with a little effort on Edwin's part. He's forward and a little flirtatiously mean and very VERY obviously used to dealing with beings who are familiar with this sort of persona and transaction. When it doesn't work and Edwin is uncomfortable instead of just nervous he VISIBLY drops the mask. Like we see his actual expression plummet and he changes tunes immediately

Second meeting, he's noticeably wearing more layers than last time. He embraces the magic and otherness of what he is more here, probably trying to intrigue Edwin enough to get him properly interested. He's a little more obvious about when he's approaching Edwin, moves a bit slower too. It seems he learned his lesson about pushing Edwin physically, and instead he's prodding at him emotionally to see where he gives way. It's worth noting that Edwin actually leans in as if to kiss him in this scene, and if you look closely the cat king actually backs away a bit. Last meeting, Edwin was interested but clearly out of his depth; this time the cat king has decided to try and get Edwin to pursue him and set the pace instead. This works better than the last persona, and honestly I think he should have stuck with this facet of himself, but he decides he needs to warp perception of him again to get the attention he wants

Honestly the third meeting is where we see the cat king at his ugliest and most desperate. I think he's going for more of a romantic hero here, swooping in at the last minute to dispatch the other man and save the day. He's moody, though, and clearly has been having a shitty evening in the forest, not to mention he's absolutely pissed off Monty's shoving himself into Edwin's space. He's genuinely mean to Monty here in a way we don't see again, which is interesting because this scene is arguably the most overtly nice- in a human way- TCK has been to Edwin, with the saving his existence and all. This actually does seem to work until he suggests he's earned a reward (understandable. Read the room dude)

Between the third and fourth meeting the cat king gets murdered, emerging looking the plainest we've seen him with his hair slicked completely back instead of artfully ruffled to match the persona. Freshly murdered, defensive, and on the brink of tears; this is probably the rawest we see him and he's oddly small and so so scared. It makes sense that he puts on such a larger than life facade, he's puffing himself up to look bigger

In the fourth meeting he's gathered that the personas aren't working- sort of. His hair and clothing is more intricately styled than right after his death and he's exaggerating his movements and words a bit but it's not quite a full mask this time. It looks to me like he starts building it up into a mask during the conversation only for Edwin to reach right past it and basically tell him he doesn't need to bother; he can already see the miserably lonely creature underneath.

It's only then that he actually does seem to drop all the acts for a moment and actually let himself be interacted with AS himself. And what is he as himself? A massive lonely loser getting a dumb crush

[kawaiibarty]

TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR OBSESSION WITH XENO/GIVE ME HEADCANONS. I BEG.

XENOPHILIUS LOVEGOOD UABDJSNS

absolutely cannot be arsed with gender. if you asked him what he was he'd probably laugh at you and say that he's an elf.

the most gorgeous silvery, curly, cascading locks that literally glimmer. like edward cullen type shit

he's creepily tall and albino with the biggest, brightest blue eyes with this sort of red hue ARGH

i like to hc him as visually impaired because of albinism 😔

his voice is really deep and it surprises people whenever he talks because woah you don't sound like a forest fairy because you look like one mf

pearls, silver rings, gemstones, sea shells, doilies, tomes of the most arcane shit, paintings everywhere

oH i like to see him as a painter because i remember that the ceiling of lunas room was covered in paintings of her friends and i love love the idea of xeno being the one to teach her that skill.

his favourite things to paint were ocean landscapes and the mountain skyline.

his best subjects were astronomy and arithmancy

SKETCHBOOKS UGHHHHHH this man was obsessed with art !!!! but decided to pursue a career as a journalist because he loved writing stories about different kinds of magical creatures and he NEEDED everyone to know about them all

his favourite magical creatures were unicorns, thestrals and sirens

an only child and halfblood wizard

makes his own jewellery (that's how he and pandora bonded and then they discovered that they both loved all things whimsical and cryptic BOOM THE CUTEST FUCKING COUPLE EVER LIKE OMF XENODORA WILL ALWAYS BE ENDGAME TO ME)

norwegian/british

ALWAYS BRAIDED HIS HAIR IN THAT NORSE VIKING WAY

he's so beautiful omg

wait im rambling now im sorry

[horizon-verizon]

People who see the dragons as nukes who must die are completely misinterpreting the story. Let’s apply this analysis to the books though. Does Daenerys receive 3 deactivated nukes as a gift in her wedding day ? Does she press a nuke against her pregnant belly and the chemicals inside of it reach out to her unborn child ? Does she lay 3 nukes in her husband’s funeral pyre to honor him ? Does she lovingly hold and breastfeed 3 nukes ? Does Jon Snow wish that he had a nuke to fight off the freezing cold ? Does Arya consider nukes to be her friends ? Does young Tyrion beg his uncles for a nuke so he can be less lonely ?

Dragons aren’t single purpose objects, they’re living, thinking, breathing creatures, and Daenerys specifically views them as such, she literally thinks of them as her children. Historically, the dragons were essentially enslaved by the blood bond and the problem was that they were used by people who viewed them as weapons first and foremost. Daenerys (a character who is extremely invested in liberation by the way) being mother of dragons, specifically, as in giving them life and literally nursing them herself, is meant to show how her relationship to the dragons is unique from her ancestors. They aren’t just a bunch of flying weapons to her.

Dragons are the living embodiment of a primordial natural magical force (fire), and their extinction was caused by misogyny, human ambition, greed, and by people in the story doing exactly what the “dragons are nukes” crowd does, which is look at them as just Big Weapon (e.g. Aemond and Daeron), and said extinction is heavily implied to be the reason winters are getting harsher (“the summers have been shorter since the last dragon died, and the winters longer and crueler”, “the real enemy is the cold”).  Calling them nuclear weapons is wayyyy missing the point. It was the greater Valyrian sin of trying to control and dominate nature/magic and bend it to their whims that lead to chaos (hello The Doom and hello Valyria Fanboy Euron), which manifested in the dragon lords like the Targaryens as them controlling dragons, but “dragons are nukes” flattens the theme and misses the forest for the trees, and it’s why you get absolutely mind numbing takes like “yeah George brought back the dragons after centuries of extinction just to kill them all off again after two years in existence because Magic Bad”.

I talked about dragons, their symbolism, etc. HERE.

George at one point did compare dragons to nuclear "deterrents" when he speaks about Dany being the most powerful person in the world in 🔗a Vulture article:

When civilizations clash in your books, instead of Guns, Germs, and Steel, maybe it's more like Dragons, Magic, and Steel (and also Germs). There is magic in my universe, but it's pretty low magic compared to other fantasies. Dragons are the nuclear deterrent, and only Dany has them, which in some ways makes her the most powerful person in the world. But is that sufficient? These are the kind of issues I'm trying to explore. The United States right now has the ability to destroy the world with our nuclear arsenal, but that doesn't mean we can achieve specific geopolitical goals. Power is more subtle than that. You can have the power to destroy, but it doesn't give you the power to reform, or improve, or build.

and GRRM does bring it up to express that dragons are so destructive that one can't use their fire for everything, for every problem when it might spell so much disaster. Can you can use dragons more often if the situation will not spiral out of control--Dragonfire does not persist when one attempts to put it out, like with wildfyre, so it's destructiveness is not in the exact same scope or horror as a radioactive nuclear missile that can leave behind radiation/devastation for years afterward...nor does it have the sort of reach these modern weapons have. Dragonfire remains within the confines of its targets unless you got really dry ground and don't put it out in time. The reason why dragonfire is compared to nuclear warfare is because like nuclear weapons now, for the world it exists in, it is the most powerful possible weapon of war.

It's about how Dany or anyone uses and regards dragons and others' own conceptions of magic and strength/danger that will make/break how they will perceive dragons. Not that dragons are innately evil; you sound like an overly superstitious and hypocritical Seven septon/over zealous Christian that way.

[sapphicseasapphire]

Cryptid AU: Heart Potion Effectiveness

I’ve decided to start making little informational posts about some aspects of my au! Some general thoughts I’ve had or answering questions! For this one, I was thinking about biology and physiology and how potions would affect each Link given their differing levels of Hylian-ness. And so! In no particular order:

Twilight (shapeshifter) : Heart potions heal him very well, similarly to how it works in canon. Depending on the injury, he’ll need multiple doses, which must not be taken immediately after each other or else they could cause poisoning. It is recommended that he take one every half hour and rest in between. Note that the dosage he is able to consume will change depending on the shape he takes: a small animal like a bird or squirrel would be able to handle far less while a larger animal such as Wolfie would be able to handle more at a time. Wounds that he receives while in a different shape will always transfer over to the next one when he shifts.

Four (I honestly have know idea what to call them yet) : Heart potions also work very well for them! Not much to say here, it’s mostly the same as Twilight. Although I’ll point out that if an individual color gets injured while they’re split, the injury will remain on the body when they reform. Communication between colors is vital. (Good thing they’re good at that. Haha)

Legend (Mer) : Heart potions have a muted effect on Legend unless he’s actively in his Mer form and soaking in salt water. While he’s in his ‘Hylian’ form, he’s not using his true body, so it doesn’t heal in the same way his Mer body would. Being an entirely aquatic species, he functions better in sea water in every circumstance, and that includes healing. Since he’s not always in a position where he can soak, he relies on Hyrule’s magic for the most part. Or deals with sub par healing.

Wind (Aquili) : Wind, being another sea creature, reacts to heart potions very similarly to Legend. Although because Aquili are amphibious rather than fully aquatic, he’s a lot less dependent on water as part of the healing process. If he sustains a particularly bad wound, soaking him before giving him a potion would be beneficial. But in most cases, he responds well to heart potions. And while it’s true that he heals better while in his Aquili form, changing between Aquili and ‘Hylian’ is no issue for him.

Hyrule (Fairy) : THIS KID IS DRINKING HEART POTIONS LIKE HIS LIFE DEPENDS ON IT. Because, in a way, it does. Hyrule, while he’s a very powerful fairy and has a lot of magic at his disposal, cannot use that magic on himself. He can heal everyone else all he wants, but can’t heal himself. And so, he relies solely on heart potions to get through particularly dangerous battles or accidents. I will note that it is rare for him to get hurt badly enough to necessitate this kind of intervention. He has excellent control of his spells and his glamour. Unless he’s magically exhausted (which he never is, right? Right?), he can defend himself better than anyone. Part of his is because of his extreme caution to never EVER bleed, and partly because of his ability to turn two inches tall and be fully capable of using powerful spells.

Wild (Forest Spirit) : Heart potions are entirely ineffective for Wild, as they are made with parts of monsters. Monsters are made of evil and darkness and Wild is made of Light, so they’re treated like poison to his body. Wild is kind of sort of immortal in that he does not age, but he can definitely be killed. (I treat him kind of like a Skykid for anyone who knows Sky: Children of the Light. When he looses all of his Light, he dies. And he looses this Light to things like Malice and Gloom and attacks from monsters, since they are entities of evil and hatred). In order for Wild to heal, he needs to be strengthened by things that come from the earth. This why he cooks often and eats often.

Warriors (Sword Spirit) : Heart potions do absolutely nothing for him. He cannot drink them. He’s a sword. If he runs out of energy, he can retreat into his sword until he’s back to normal: that’s generally how injuries with him are going to look. His spirit form can only take so many hits before he has to rest. Unless his physical sword got damaged, which would be NOT GOOD. However, they do have a very capable smith in their ranks so I’m sure Wars will be fine. Haha.

Sky (Avian) : Heart potions only heal Sky half way, and in many cases, can be detrimental to his mental health. Since his is the combination between Link and Aepon, heart potions alone heal him unevenly and force a separation between his two parts. As Link is more healed than Aepon, the others might notice a change in his behavior. And due to the general inefficiency in healing physical wounds, the others will opt for different healing methods for Sky; sub par healing is not worth the turmoil that it puts him through. For best healing results, mushroom spores from Skyloft (Loftwing medicine) will be mixed into heart potions and given to Sky. But since those mushroom spores can only be found in the sky and are rarely available, Sky relies on Hyrule for the major wounds and tends to himself for the smaller ones.

Time (God) : Heart potions for Time are a MASSIVE energy boost. This can be very, very dangerous as it can cause him to loose himself, and he won’t come down from it for a long while. No one likes a rampaging God. That being said, he is a God, if Time needs a potion, they have bigger issues.

Also Time is actually legitimately immortal. With no danger of death, there’s no need for potions. I will explain the logistics of his immortality in another post I promise haha!

Original Character Sheets!

[thebrickdwarf]

Tomtar

Two Tomtar. In english Tomtar is called Elfs, but it's not really the same thing. In the Nordic countries, there is a myriad of different folklore creatures called "Oknytt".

Tomten is perhaps one of the few that some people still believe in, at least a little. Although very few would openly admit so.

A very short description of the Tomtar. Just like humans, they are mortal. However, they live very long lives, perhaps 300-400 years. They also have some magical abilities. Most notably, the ability to turn invisible. They can also make their home invisible.

A Tomte is the protector and caretaker of a place. You can be certain that every old farm has one or several Tomtar looking after the place, even if it is abandoned. You can also find Tomtar in churches, castles, graveyards, barns and cottages. In fact, there is probably a Tomte in every building. Even newer ones.

Tomtar also resides in the forests. If a stretch of road running through or near a forest and has more accidents than usual then Tomtar may be the cause. They are probably angry at the traffic. Despite this, Tomtar are usually good and helpful as long as you do not anger them. If you do, they can be very vengeful.

Some things you absolutely should avoid if you want "your" Tomte to stay friendly:

Never be mean to animals

Never throw out hot water without first shouting a warning to the Tomte

Never forget to give porridge to the Tomte on Christmas

Never destroy large rocks or trees on your land unless you really have to. The Tomte will know if it was absolutely necessary or not.

Lastly, as I'm a nurse, I want to add that it is very common for people with dementia or mental disorders to start seeing Tomtar, or "smågubbar" meaning little people. It's so common that it has become a proverb. To say that someone is seeing "smågubbar" is to say that they are a bit crazy. It would be interesting to hear if this is the case in other places as well or if it is something specific to the Nordics.

[amity206]

Random Elder Headcanons

Thinking about the Sky elders and what they would have been like when they were fully alive (I use he/him for Daleth and she/her for Teth based on things the devs have said when talking about them but given the elders canonically don’t have biological genders I just go with some of them decided to use gendered pronouns while others didn’t - everyone is free to their own interpretation of the lore)

Daleth / Isle Elder

Likes solving puzzles

Stargazes and knows the constellations by memory (as the guide / ferryman elder I imagine he would be skilled in navigating by stars)

Takes a really long time to make decisions but usually makes good ones

Very supportive (concept stuff compared him to a kindergarten teacher), knows how to talk to kids (though he can sometimes get overwhelmed by the noise he’s super good with children)

Actually very skilled in both combat and magic. In his old age he’s getting weaker but he can definitely still kick ass

History geek

Blames himself for the King’s corruption. He thinks he could have prevented it, that he didn’t do enough. He still loves the King like a grandchild and wants to make sure he’s okay.

Ayin / Prairie Elder

Really good at cooking, even though the Elders probably had staff to cook for them

Loves baby mantas (baby light creatures of all kinds really)

Likes to make miniature models of things. would really enjoy those several thousand piece Lego sets if spirits had legos

Vegetarian

super patient. Almost never mad. Absolutely terrifying when they do get mad

Listens to everyone’s opinions on things, very thoughtful

Gives the best hugs

Very hard worker, incredibly strong. The kind of person who does not procrastinate

its canon that they snore loudly

Very sad over how the light creatures were drained under their watch, filled with guilt about it. Wishes they could have found another way that didn’t involve trapping the King in Eden.

Teth / Forest Elder

Could be bossy or stern sometimes, but actually cares very much about the people around her

She will snap at you for annoyances like handing her a shipment of improperly prepared darkstone. Everyone around her deeply respects her though

Introvert at heart, secretly enjoys cheesy romance novels as well as like. Business / mining manuals

Originally called the shaman ancestor so probably had a deeper connection to Megabird, at least at first

Nothing scares her (at least, that’s what she says)

Inner turmoil about her role in the Fall - knowing she played an instrumental role in the Kingdom’s downfall, but also unwilling to place the blame on herself. Despises the former King

Samekh / Valley Elders

Very focused on maintaining their public image and being seen as great by the Kingdom

Sibling Banter™️ with constantly trying to out-perform each other. Despite this in the face of a threat they fight almost as if they were the same person… or used to be

Former bodyguards of the King, watched him become corrupted. As the youngest Elders they looked up to the King more and didn’t know what to do

Liked to throw massive parties/spectacles

Because of this and their playful/occasionally flirtatious streak, some regarded them as more shallow and less intelligent than the rest of the Elders. Sah and Mek were actually geniuses, though prone to making impulse decisions

they judge you by how well you perform in the races / other tests laid out by them. Very dismissive of those who don’t do well.

Because of the “maintaining public image” thing, even in a dead Kingdom they don’t want to let anything be known about the extent they had to do with the corruption

Tsadi / Wasteland Elder

Got seriously corrupted by darkstone like they did in concept art. Used to be super in control of their emotions, as the corruption took hold they became more short-tempered and angry

Long-term planner, very good at military strategy and also strategy games like the Sky version of chess. Has an amazing poker face. (Ignore that the spirits wear masks okay)

Really needs someone to talk to, finds it hard to open up but has a lot to get off their chest- loss, regret, pain, things they could have done better, people they could have saved. Before the Storm they used to talk to Ayin, but now they can’t anymore

Doesnt talk much. Enjoys the company of Teth because they’re both introverts and Teth also likes strategy games.

Wanted to be seen as a hero, not a monster. Thought they were fighting for the good of the Kingdom

Enjoys books on military history and strategy

Cares a lot about people, bad at expressing it

Feels like the King used them as a weapon, incredibly angry about that

Lamed / Vault Elder

The kind of person who will silently judge you instead of confronting you about something

Always uses inside voice

Knows so many things. Passion is searching for obscure and forgotten history

Doesnt get involved in other people’s drama, would serve as a mediator in debates between Elders. Has never needed to raise their voice because a stern look is enough to get everyone to shut up. No one wants to see them get mad.

Fluent in sign language and several ancient languages

Good friends with Daleth, they have tea and share stories

MASTER at strategy games, better in many of them than Tsadi. Sharp-witted too, good at the occasional pun and knows if you’re hiding something/lying

Feels bad for skykids. Doesn’t know how to tell them they were basically created to die, so does their best to prepare them for the storm instead

[mysticstarlightduck]

Song of Thorns - WIP Intro/WIP Wednesday

Jumping on the OPEN TAG by @little-peril-stories (here), and @kaylinalexanderbooks tag (here) because I was really inspired and wanted to give it a try! I tried to give my twist on the same format, because it was really cool!

(Also, I had been wanting an excuse to do an actual intro for this WIP for a while now, even though it's not my main one and is a much smaller side project lol)

By the way, if you like this, please reblog, it helps a lot 💕

Rules: Pick a WIP. Post something about it. On a Wednesday. Or whenever! It can be literally anything! (:

WIP INTRO - SONG OF THORNS

Title: Song of Thorns

Genre: High Fantasy/Dark Fairytale

Tags: #wip song of thorns #song of thorns

Synopsis/What Is It About?

Roselyn, a teenage girl from a backwater fishing village on the edge of the continent, moves to the kingdom's floating capital with her siblings - Jasen, her older brother and a brilliant aspiring sorcerer, and their 12-year-old younger sister, Portia - after Jasen gets a prestigious apprenticeship in the mystical city.

However, after a while, it becomes apparent that something is not what it seems in the city of legend. In fact, something is very wrong. When Jasen mysteriously disappears without a trace, trying to find out what happened reveals the true facet of the up-til-then-welcoming nobility, and gets her falsely accused of treason.

Sentenced to death for reasons she cannot understand, Roselyn finds her second chance when the royal family's youngest prince, the nephew of the King, sets her free in the middle of the night with a proposal - helping him stop the full extent of his family's schemes and save the city before it is too late.

With the help of the now-exiled prince and a couple other outcasts, Roselyn will expose the city's corruption and save her brother before it is too late. All the while she starts falling in love with the charming though lonely thief (Renn) who has stolen her heart. But with strange forces being tampered with and magic swiftly changing, time is slipping away disturbingly fast.

Tropes and Nice Stuff! (Or, a.k.a. What you can expect in this book!)

Friends to Lovers! (Renn x Roselyn, Prince Alaric x Jasen)

Eldritch horror, dark fantasy, and blood magic. The royals are basically fantasy mad scientists and it gets complicated...

The perfect city has some really fucked up secrets that nobody was supposed to find out. Ever.

Epic heists (or as I like to call it: these fools doing absolutely everything wrong but failing successfully)

Fantasy creatures, enchanted forests, a derpy giant talking cat. You name it! There are loads of peaceful sea monsters too, and some very dangerous creatures I've invented as well!

Sad, absolutely heartbreaking scenes and some goofy, silly scenes!

Goth thief who is actually very nerdy and not at all brooding.

An aro/ace druid's apprentice! A bit unhinged and admittedly clueless about the world outside, but the sweetest character ever"

An actually Good Stepmother! (Subversion of the Wicked Stepmother trope)

Enemies to Friends (that's a spoiler!)

A villain who may act childish but is actually not stupid at all and is the most threatening MF you'll ever meet

Whump! (Potentially)

Medieval/Renaissance period with a touch of Fantasy Science

A soft magic system

Siblings, family bonds, and intrigue!

Sometimes the villains kinda win and it is scary (but don't worry the heroes find a way to fight another day so it's not all doom and gloom, almost, but not.)

And more!💕

Meet The Main Cast! (The good guys)

Roselyn Lethia

A curious and opinionated teenager, Roselyn finds herself dragged into a net of intrigue, lies, and bloodied secrets after her beloved older brother suddenly goes missing without a trace, and the kingdom tries to convince her he never existed. She is kind, brave, and determined, though she can sometimes take on more than she can realistically handle, and needs to rely solely on her book-earned wits and sparse fighting skills to get through her fears. Her greatest motive is keeping her loved ones safe, but she also, deep down, yearns for some adventuring.

Prince Alaric of the Hyghsummit

Naive and slightly arrogant without realizing it, Alaric is the youngest prince of the reigning royal family. He is the nephew of the King and was largely raised by his stepmother Catallinah, a motherly but no-nonsense woman trapped in an arranged marriage to his uncle after the death of her husband, Alaric's father. Most of his other relatives from his large family consider him a weak link and most don't even bother with him at all - but Alaric is much more than the capital's "failed prince". He is a brilliant and well-read young man who has spent most of his time honing his abilities to bring down the lies of his corrupted family. He falls in love with Jasen, who became his friend after the latter started working as an apprentice to the court's High Sorcerer.

Renn Atrius

A foreign noble from beyond the royal lands, he was forced into the lifestyle of a thief from a young age, after being orphaned when his father was murdered for refusing to obey their neighboring kingdom's crown. Learning the art of disappearing into the night and taking valuables from the land that took everything from him and colonized his nation, Renn quickly became quite the nuisance for the King. But thankfully to his connection to raw blood magic, his slight vampiric abilities ensure no human soldier ever proves a real threat to him. He starts to fall in love with Roselyn, having become friends with her after trying to steal her coin purse (having mistaken her for a tourist from the capital).

Jasen Lethia

Roselyn's older brother, Jasen is a brilliant and highly ambitious student of the arcane arts. Their home village never provided much chances for his studies, but he kept practicing until he was good enough to earn a highly prestigious apprenticeship at the capital's Evocation Order. He is pragmatic, soft-spoken, and painstakingly patient, and though his studies are important to him, raising his sisters has been his top priority since their parents were killed in a bandit raid to their village when he was twelve, especially because their grandmother was too frail to really do much to raise them when she was alive. Jasen becomes close friends with Prince Alaric, who is around his age, though Jasen dismisses his own personal romantic feelings, believing that he would never be deemed worthy to love a noble and saying anything would only ruin their friendship, when in fact Alaric feels the same. Jasen went missing after discovering the truth about the King by accident.

Oriana Whisperleaf

A quirky and extremely talkative druid's apprentice, Oriana was neglected by her birth parents, who did not care for her. When she was five, she wandered into a local meadow and into the woods - no one came looking for her. She got really lost, but thankfully, she met the mysterious druidic witch who lived deep in the enchanted woods of the realm, a beautiful woman who took her in and raised her as her daughter and apprentice.

Portia Lethia

Roselyn and Jasen's youngest sister, Portia is a very quiet and often sensitive 12-year-old kid, who prefers to spend her time in the company of animals rather than people and wants to become an animal healer when she comes of age. She is smart, perceptive, and polite/well-behaved for her age, though sometimes she has a prankster streak!

Plot Points .... or not🙃 (so far, because this WIP is still early in creation)

"Peace and Quiet and All Things Nice - wait what tf is that in the water? Eh. Probably just a sea monster, it's likely nothing."

"You're saying we're going to the capital - a city literally built in the mountains floating in the sky?! Count me IN dude I am hyped!"

"Traveling. And traveling. And traveling some more. Gods, does this goddamn road ever end -? Oh, and we're there."

"Two unsupervised teenage girls explore an unknown city and shenanigans ensue. Also, meet this suspicious royal High Sorcerer dude who will mentor their older brother and is totally not gonna betray him at all. Trust me."

"Things are looking great! I'm having fun, this is nice!"

"OBLIGATORY ONE-YEAR TIME SKIP"

"I have the feeling some sus bullshit is afoot but I don't know why. And I don't know if I wanna know. Everything's fine! Right?... right?"

"BREAKING NEWS: Watch how an entire kingdom tries to gaslight a teenager!"

"...Why are there bloodstains in the castle? What are those gooey-looking branches? Oh, hell to the nah~"

"So apparently I've been arrested. That's new. They have yet to read me my rights."

"So either I'm gonna be executed or have my mind erased. That's new. How about neither? No? This is not how I saw my weekend going."

"Breaking out with the prince. I don't know which of us is more confused. We're totally not gonna die in like two days at this rate."

"Getting lost in a very cursed-looking forest and finding out that the kingdom is slowly dying. At least that druid looks friendly - if she doesn't try to kill us. Yet again."

"Meet this 100-year-old lady who looks 30. She's nice. A bit crazy though, I think, but nice? Real talk, I'm not sure if this is tea or poison, or if she knows, but I'm too concerned to ask."

"So your insane family has sent assassins to kill us? Neat. And you didn't think that was a priority to mention, why exactly..? OF COURSE IT WAS A PRIORITY YOU GILDED DIMWIT!"

"This goth mercenary guy did just try to rob me, but he did save my life, so. Plus he does look handsome in this light, ngl. Why does he look so cute, tf is wrong with me?"

"🎶And I'm never gonna sleep again, sleep again, lalala, what the eldritch hell did I just see -🎶

"Rival civilization! Finally! Pls tell me there's not an insane guild of blood sorcerers in this town my dude. I need a break desperately and I'm not sure if my sanity can handle any more - Oh thank goodness. It's just horrifying monsters beyond my wildest dreams then. I'd take that any day. How much does an inn cost here?"

"Group of dumbasses tries to pull off complicated plan. Proceeds to forget said plan halfway through and ends up improvising an entire heist. Also, that's a talking cat. Why is there a talking cat."

"Finding out your prince best friend has been in love with your older brother since they met. Pt 1"

"Not-so-Evil (actually the nicest) Stepmother jumpscares teenagers and feels bad about it. She has cookies though so that's okay though."

"The King throws a massive hissy fit, Special Edition (:"

"So. This is bad. This is bad. Thisissobad. I'm traumatized. I regret all my life choices and I think I'm going to throw up. This is so bad."

"We need a plan. A better one to be exact."

"Absolutely not! We are not breaking into that place, oh Hells no! No. Absolutely not-" (shift scenes, deadpan tone) "We broke into that place and I regret everything."

That's it so far! I'm still workshopping the ending from here (:

Playlist

Runaway - AURORA

Only Teardrops - Emmelie De Forest

Shadow - Livingston

Elan - Nightwish

Bad Feeling - Jaguar Twain

Tagging (gently, no pressure!) @kaylinalexanderbooks @littleladymab @cabbojage @lassiesandiego @little-peril-stories @oh-no-another-idea @thepeculiarbird @rickie-the-storyteller @crowandmoonwriting @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gummybugg @forthesanityofstorytellers @doublegoblin @aalinaaaaaa @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @elshells @illarian-rambling @clairelsonao3 @conkers-thecosy @anyablackwood @diabolical-blue @cowboybrunch and OPEN TAG for anyone else who wants to do their own spin in this challenge!

[llondonfog]

This is such a weird, RANDOM, and long ask (more like a rant tbh), but I wanted to say something because I can't get it out of my head.

BIBLICALLY ACCURATE ANGEL SILVER.

Before you boo me, I COULDN'T HELP IT. I just, can't get it out of my brain.

Like, Lilia just wakes up one day, sees this mini horror in Silver's bedroom, and freaks out before realizing that IS Silver.

Everything he knew about Silver's parents is a lie.

Then, Silver transforms back, but part way, so he has these cute little wings with soft, white feathers, and Lilia just MELTS.

He's freaked out, amazed, confused, but he wants to comfort Silver, who is both confused and possibly in pain from the transformation. Growing wings seems painful.

Like, he had 6 wings (3 sets of 2) in the horror-fest form that is a Biblically Accurate Angel (I both encourage and warn you against searching that up lol), and now he has 2-4 wings (possibly with the feathers attached to his head as Seraphim Angels have. I think). Compared to his default human body, that's a big difference, right?

Anyway, I wanted to share this with someone. You don't have to do anything with this, or even respond, but THE IMAGE. I love Silver and he's already angelic, so might as well add a Horrifying version of that, AND pretty wings in the more "normal" version. I just can't write or draw my vision LMAO so I have to cope with sharing it instead.

BIBLICALLY ACCURATE ANGEL SILVER IM IN LOVE????

BABY SILVER WITH BABY ANGEL WINGS!!! oh they are so soft and fluffy, like dreams and clouds and silk all at once!! the imagery of him draping them over lilia while they nap or simply shielding him from the sun with one as he gets older....my heart!!!

And then considering the imagery of extremely pissed off biblically accurate silver protecting his loved ones against any who would seek to bring them harm!!! Absolutely terrifying to behold!! I don't know why I'm partial to the specific one of the large eye surrounded by countless wings but that's what I think of!! All those wings to sweep up and protect his loved ones, and more to deal out powerful blows of damage, with one dizzying aurora-hued eye that can seem like the most gentle gaze that allows you to simply bask in unconditional acceptance or the most horrific choking sense of inevitable judgement for what you've done against the word of good.

FANTASTIC CONCEPT I WISH I COULD DRAW IT

on the other hand, the thought of lilia being in such awe and wonder of his child, this pure and innocent being who has been granted to him, who loves him unconditionally and uses his powers to make lilia's life kinder and easier as silver tries to take away the aches and pains and nightmares... I could see it verging into a cult of two territory; lilia being very protective and possessive of his son, the thought of throwing himself into service to protect the boy?angel?savior? at any and all costs, to be his knight in shining armor to keep him safe and unsullied from the world. silver becoming like this odd forest deity creature who pours his magic so willingly into the woods and gives freely to those that need his kindness, and his father is only too happy to kneel to him, renewed in his purpose to serve his benevolent, angelic son...

[witchysolfan]

The Hag in the Woods Part 3

-

She crawled and struggled.

Reaching out for the poppet the chicken witch made for her.

‘Fingers were needed for the potion’ The hag told the bleeding woman. ‘To save your husbands, what are you willing to sacrifice for them?’

The heavy stares waiting for an answer grew heavy. Waiting to pass judgment. Waiting to see what sort of answer the human would give.

Were they worth losing bits and pieces of herself? Paying in blood and flesh just to see them be alright and stable again over her own mistake?

Yes.

Absolutely, yes.

And if it’s fingers or more she has to pay with, then so be it.

But she will not allow herself to be devoured just like that.

She had teeth too.

What the witch thought was a hapless creature of prey was actually just as ferocious as a wolf. Even rabbits had teeth and in the dark wilds, so too do they eat meat.

A Princess stands with wild eyes and dares to defy the oncoming death looming over her. It was impressive how a once soft skinned daughter gained callous hands from work and fierceness to kill to survive.

Baba Yaga laughed.

She liked those eyes.

They peered beyond the veil and no doubt had many spirits and creatures seek her out for their own curiosity and mischief.

The hag wasn’t even bothered by the bite on her arm.

She wanted to see this woman become another witch in the world. Knowing what awaits her beyond the glimpse of time the hag has of this woman’s fate.

Who was she to deny the young God a future bride and more?

“Come here, child. I have much to teach you.” Baba Yaga beckoned. “I cannot give you back your original fingers but I may give you new ones. If, and only if, you agree to be taught under me.”

Vanessa listened to the details of the proposal of the witch.

No longer would she fumble about in her own studies of magic and alchemy. She would be taught by the same witch who created the chicken witch, who has forgotten many lessons from her creator and needs a good refresher when Vanessa returns.

“Time and the forest took away many of her knowledge. It is up to you whether to help her remember or not.”

Chica had always done her best to help Vanessa and Sun and Moon. Unfortunately, there was only so much she could do with what she retained.

“Do not eat me or take any more from me without asking; let me leave once the potion is finished and I shall accept.” Vanessa watched Baba Yaga smirk.

“Shrewd little rabbit. Very well.”

With a long arm, the hag reached out and sprouted new fingers for the woman.

It was not without pain.

For some time, Vanessa learned what she can under Baba Yaga’s tutelage while helping to brew the potion for her husband’s core. The eyes of a wicked man being the first ingredients used for it.

Vanessa was glad she thought to bring that as a gift to the hag.

The chores were hard but with the poppet’s help, it became easier to do.

It would take the next new moon for the potion to be completed.

Vanessa learned many things. Discovering books and journals left behind by Chica when she used to live here. She brought them and others back in a magic satchel that held so many things inside but still retained it’s small shape and lightweight.

Vanessa entered the forest as an ordinary human.

Vanessa left the forest as something more.

Previously

Next

[thesnivy123]

Heya! So what headcanons do you have about Masked Kids in general? (Feel free to tell me absolutely everything about them lol)

Okayokayokay i cant get into all the finest details just bc idt i have the energy to write every detail out in one go, so feel free to ask about specific things if u want to know more. But basically: human-mimicking semi-brood-parasitic carnivorous pack-hunting goats. which. Is a lot. gonna break this down a little

start with the simplest one. Goats! They're goats- Or at least, they're goats in the way an aminoguana is a lizard and a mothi is a moth- They're sapient creatures descended from a lineage of goats that developed a specific genetic mutation universal to all monster species- It's tied to heightened intelligence, purple-hued blood that creates a thick gas when exposed to open air, and a heightened proficiency for magic. Humans are actually the only sophont in the setting to NOT have the "monster gene"- They evolved into sapience the long, complicated way.

Masked Folk are unique among monsters, however, for their entire evolutionary history being inseparably intertwined with that of humans. See, the Masked Folk quickly established themselves as apex predators upon reaching sapience. Not many animals want to mess with humans, not many animals want to mess with large ungulates, and so, it stands to reason that VERY LITTLE would mess with large HUMANOID ungulates... That is, except for humans. Though they typically didn't compete for territory- humans preferring open fields, the Folk preferring dense forests- Masked Folk live off basically the exact diet humans do (plus a little extra meat, being obligate carnivores). They were in direct competition for resources. This led to conflict, which led to humanity now being one of the sole drivers of their evolution... Which, thanks to the wonders of the Monster Gene causing more mutations, happened to work faster than you'd expect.

In raids on Masked Folk villages, humans were far less likely to directly harm their young than the adults- Beyond the moral aspect of this, they shared a lot of traits with human children. And, over generations of conflict with humanity, these traits got amplified- When your one remaining predator is more willing to spare you when you look like their kids, you're gonna eventually start looking like their kids.

Eventually, we ended up with the Masked Kids we see today. Highly shortened muzzles, tiny horns, big eyes- all coming together to vaguely resemble a human child's face. This... Doesn't fool anyone on it's own, though, aside from looking cute.

That, of course, is where magic gets involved.

See, Masked Folk- as adults- have a natural knack for magic, compared to other monsters. This has nothing to do with it's usefulness to them in adulthood, and everything to do with its function in their youth. Young Masked Kids- from birth until around 16- ambiently radiate a powerful "illusionary" magic, making humans perceive them as being a human child.

"Illusionary" is in quotes, because it has no effect on their physical appearance. No, it's closer to a weak sort of mind control, if anything. The magic taps right into the facial recognition part of the brain, a few other places too, and just... Spins a few things around. Makes it so that, so long as you're within range of their aura, when you look at a Masked Kid, you consider them to be young of your own species. Even if you factually know they're not, you know how it works, it just... You can't really follow the train of thought that goes "that's something else". The thought might still be there, but it slips through your mind like butter, you can't hold on to the idea that this isn't A Child Of Your Species. "Your Species", because it isn't human specific- just... deeply ineffective on any other species. Really just counters humans. Either way, the masks they wear amplify this, giving the human mind a plausible excuse for why the features dont line up, and letting this mimicry go unquestioned.

This mental defense, combined with the odd growth rate of the masked folk, allows them to go relatively undetected in human civilization from any age up until their late teens. A masked kid will grow at around the same rate as a human infant until the age of ten- At which point, they very suddenly stop. They remain "ten years old" for years, not growing an inch- at most, gaining a little weight as their bodies stockpile energy, but even this is rarely noticeable, as this phase of growth is HIGHLY optimized to make as few stages as possible (there's actually a pocket of previously unused space within their chest cavity that fills up with a condensed fat deposit during these years- this goes away when their body structure changes in adulthood). Their mimckry aura works to ensure nobody questions this halt in growth, of course. Theyve got to remain cute and sympathetic for as long as possible.

Then, at around 16, they hit a growth spurt. A very, very big one. Within a couple years, they'll grow several feet in height, their torso and snout will elongate, and their tail thickens out as a counter-balance to their front-heavy posture- This is when the mimicry aura shuts down, because, as powerful as it is, there's only so much it can hide. That deep well of magic is now freed up for personal use, with some amount of knowledge on its use being instinctual, for at this age, they're bound to be shunned from human civilization.

That is, if they haven't left for the woods already. Though Masked Folk are just as sapient as humans, they've got some pretty strong instincts in their younger stages, to keep up the ruse- Don't stand out, avoid crowds, do what you're told, and, once the growth spurt hits, Leave. Even those who are still welcome in their home- more common than you'd think, for many reasons- often follow the call of the woods eventually. Those ones come back if they can't find other Masked Folk. They still go out, but still.

... All this, of course, is only relevant if they find themselves in a human settlement. Most Masked Folk never even see their mimicry come into play- If all goes well, they're raised peacefully by their parents and siblings in small communities in the woods- usually consisting of a few family groups and any stragglers from human civilization. See, they don't WANT to be brood parasites, it's not their plan A. No, that's all a last resort. A tactic to survive if the worst came to worst. Ideally, they raise their own kids safely within their own species- or, occasionally- a mixed-monster-species group.

The Hero Cycle and Stitched Castle have... complicated things, of course, in the regions surrounding the Chestnut Kingdom, but in other parts of the world, Masked Folk still live pretty traditionally. Often in better relations with humans, though- Agriculture makes the competition for resources a little less of an issue, and now, they've got a reputation far different than most monsters. Something a little surprising, actually. Something that's earned them a few different names, in different places.

The Forest Dwellers. The Fair Folk. The Other People. Changelings.

The Fae.

[crazy-ache]

ACOTAR tag game 💕

Thanks for tagging me @the-darkestminds @zenkindoflove @ataraxiasflame @starsreminisce and @teddyhoneybear!!!

Answer the questions below & tag whoever you want, or make it an open tag!!

Who's your favourite ACOTAR character?

Lucien Vanserra. Since Book 1.

Who's your least favourite character?

Ianthe. I am currently re-reading ACOWAR and god she is the worst. Especially for all she did to Feyre and my baby Lucien. I also hate that she was a missed opportunity for a complex, female villain, perhaps with undertones of religious motivations....instead of another female sexual predator villain in Sarah's books. Sigh.

Say something nice about your least favourite character.

She got what she deserved!!! :-)

Who's your favourite High Lord? (If you picked one for your fav character, then who's your second fav!)

Helion Spell-Cleaver. I am very into his tragic love story with the Lady of Autumn. It gives me Greek mythology vibes. My head canon is that Helion told her to reject the bond, to protect her from the wrath of Beron, and to protect her sons. He begged and begged her to do it, because it was better for him to suffer than for her to lose her life.

Favourite MINOR character?

Jurian, hands down. He's got that tortured asshole soul vibe going on. A human who is not remotely phased by magic or Fae after all the shit he's been through. People underestimate how brilliant and wise he probably is....because he's an ass lmao. And I love that about him.

Favourite ship? (Crackships included!)

ELUCIEN FOREVER.

Favourite court and why?

Autumn Court. The political intrigue. The fall vibes. The amazing forests. It feels very faerie and I want to see more of that lore in the coming books.

Make up a brand new court RIGHT NOW, NO PREP JUST VIBES.

Court of Mountains --> Picture this. Influences from the Incan Empire. Think of buildings and temples built into the mountains, like Machu Picchu. I picked this because I've visited it before/share roots with it and it felt magical - the lore, the beauty, the mountains .... it would make for an incredible kind of court we haven't seen before. I am envisioning the people have magic that controls the Earth (like Earthbenders!) and it helps them live and survive in the difficult landscapes, away from the other courts. IDK I made this all up now.

What relationship would you have wanted to see more of in the books?

I need an Elain and Eris friendship arc and I need it now.

What's your unpopular opinion?

That the Elucien book is next, then a novella, and then a Gwynriel book. Ha.

What's your favourite headcanon/fan canon?

That although Lucien never told Papa Archeron directly, the man figured it out by himself that Lucien was the one for Elain. Maybe he didn't know the word mate but he said - wait a second. They're going to be together. This fae is a little too interested in her, but I like him. And he gives him his blessing before he dies. I think he's the one who told Lucien that Elain is worth waiting for...and to take her to the tulip fields one day. YES I WROTE A WHOLE ASS FIC FOR THIS

If you were swept away to Prythian, what's ONE thing you would want to do?

Lucien

I want to experience all the magic. Just frolic through a field and really feel this fae magical world, see the creatures, witness the magic and spells, just be absolutely bewitched by it all.

If you could have ONE faerie ability seen in the books, which would it be?

Y'all I want fire magic. Because I've always wanted to be a fire bender. IYKYK

No pressure tags!! @works-of-heart @yaralulu @animezinglife @shadowqueenjude

[farity]

Enemies, part 7

Summary: Jace and Luke stop by, and so does someone else.

Warnings:  Smut

“Welcome, my Lords Strong.”

Aemond’s voice reverberated against the walls and columns, a sinuous sound that enveloped the two young men standing before the dais where he stood next to his wife.

Said wife turned around slowly and glared at him before turning back to her brothers.  “Jace, Luke, it is good to see you.”

Luke looked at his older brother before looking to his sister, and then his gaze landed on Aemond.

“Your sister is speaking to you,” Aemond said, menacingly.  “Is your appalling lack of manners yet another difference between you and her?”

“I would speak with you, brothers,” she interjected as Jace opened his mouth, “may we find a table and break bread together?”

Luke’s eyes were still on Aemond’s, half defiant, half terrified, and when Jace nodded, he followed his siblings.

Aemond knew his wife’s younger brother was trying his hardest to not turn around, and if his own boots made a sound slightly louder than usual on the stone floor as he followed behind them all, it was not his fault.

Should the younger bastard turn to face him he would find barely repressed fury and years-long resentment simmering behind Aemond’s eye.

To Aemond’s relief - and disappointment - Luke did not turn around.

* * * * * 

“Absolutely not.”

“Aemond, they will not hurt me.  Frankly, I would like to speak to Jacaerys alone but I dare not leave Luke with you.”

Aemond smirked.  “Would you like me to fetch one of the children’s nurses to watch over him?

She tried not to smile.  “Maybe a septon would be best.”  She reached up to caress his scarred cheek.  “I imagine this is difficult for you, and I know you restrain yourself for me.”

“In more ways than one,” Aemond snapped, eye flaring when she grabbed his face in both hands.

“I am saying thank you, husband, for I do not know if I should have the same restrain as you.  Just seeing Luke makes me want to both hug him and tear off one of his eyes with my bare nails.”

He said nothing, but the muscle in his jaw twitched beneath her palm.

“Jace was the one she had to mold, I was the one that proved she did her duty, but Luke- Luke was always the one she poured her love onto.  Her sweet boy.”

“And Joffrey?”

She rolled her eyes.  “I should not know him if I saw him in the street.  Much like your Daeron.  Must be the fate of a fourth child.”

Aemond ran the back of his fingers down her cheek.  “If he should give hint of any violence or threat, even if you are not sure-”

“I shall shriek like a creature of the forest until my lord and husband tears down the door and saves me.”

He sighed, exasperated.  “You are the most trying thing I’ve ever met.”

“You are the best of them,” she told him suddenly, quietly, kissing his cheek when he gave her a look.  “You truly are, Aemond.”

“I could say the same.”

She shook her head.  “No, I am not.  Jace is.  He is kind and wants to do his best.”  Her eyes met his.  “Even if he cannot throw a proper punch,” she added, smiling.

Aemond’s mouth raised at the corner.  “He truly does throw a pathetic punch.”  He lowered his head to kiss her.  “Go, and keep both of you safe.”

* * * * * 

Luke safely ensconced with a septon, you headed to one of the map rooms to meet with your older brother.  He was tapping his fingers on the windowsill, as he often did, and nodded at you before taking a seat.

“How is it that Aegon walks?” Jace began, not mincing words.  “I heard he was near death.”

You sat down across from him, resisting the urge to place your hands on your belly.  “There is magic beyond dragons.  Some of it walked through our doors soon after he was injured.”

Jace shook his head, dark curls reminding you of a time when you wished you had the same hair as your siblings.  “What magic is this?”

“Do you remember when we learned of the Lord of Light?  The red women who serve him?”

He nodded. “R’hilor.”

“Yes.  One of those red priestesses stopped by.  I did not see her, I was- I was mourning mother.  She healed Aegon before leaving.”

“How?  Why?”

“I do not know, Jace.  All I know is that she wanted dragon fire and Helaena, desperate, took her to see Dreamfyre.  No one else was there and Helaena will not speak of it so I do not know what exactly transpired.  Aemond has tried and even he cannot coax it out of her.”

“Speaking of Aemond.”  Jace looked at you carefully.  “Is it an act, the way he is around you?  As if he would protect you from everything and everyone?”

You shook your head.  “It is no act.  He is good to me.  He has cared for me and has, indeed, protected me, even against his own family.”  You wanted to say more, to tell your brother how your marriage was filled with caring.  There was danger in saying such things, in thinking such things, and you pressed your lips together.

“I suppose you have to make the best of it.”  He tapped his fingers on the table again before he remembered something.  “Baela said to tell you she sends her love.”

You smiled, immediately picturing your stepsister’s dear face.  “How is Baela?  And Rhaena?”

Before your eyes, your brother’s expression softened and you thought you saw a wash of red over his cheeks.  “She is,” he began, “we are-” he cleared his throat.  “She is with child.  We married quietly days ago.”

“Oh Jace,” you walked around the table, and despite everything, he smiled and returned your hug.  “I am so happy for you both.”  You wanted to tell him your own news but things were going so well and you were fearful of upsetting him.

“Sister, there is much to discuss now.”  He let go of you, returning to his seat.  “Baela wants what is left of her family near her.  She wants her sister.  She wants her grandparents.  Losing both Rhaenyra and Daemon in such a short time has dealt her a great wound.”

What about me?  Do I not suffer their loss, too?

Jace seemed torn and you knew there was so much more.  “I do not blame her.”

“She wants to return to Driftmark.  To live there.”

You said nothing, understanding his dilemma.  As Rhaenyra’s heir and Prince of Dragonstone, he was duty-bound to the ancient place where you all had spent time as a family.  But now his beloved wanted something else.  And her reasons were powerful, especially now.

“And what do you want, brother?”

Jace rubbed his face and you knew in that moment that his world had changed and it, in turned, had changed him.  “I know I should say The Iron Throne,” he intoned dramatically.  “And I do.  It is what I was raised for.  It was mother’s and she never got to reign.  I think she would have done a good job.”

If Daemon had allowed her to, you thought.

“But it brought grandfather nothing but worries and fighting, and it brought mother nothing but strife and death, and I do not want that for myself.  Or Baela.  Or the child.”

Jace was silent for a long time.

“Does it make me a coward?”

“Jace, it makes you good man,” you replied softly.  “Grandfather tried to have it both ways and it tore the family apart.  Mother nearly buckled under the weight of being the heir.  It is not cowardice to want something else.”

His eyes rose to your face.  “Of course you would say that.  Keep Aegon on the throne, keep your new family happy.”

“Oh come on, Jacaerys!” You stood, your chair making a loud scraping sound against the stone floor.  “If I agree with you, you see machinations, if I disagree with you, will you think me heartless?”  You stared at him, willing him to listen.  “Maybe there are paths left to explore.”

* * * * * 

Aemond was pacing at the end of the hallway, and when he saw the door open, he rushed to see his wife stepping out.  “Prince Jacaerys and Prince Lucerys will have dinner in their rooms.  We shall meet again in the morning.”

She took his arm and tried to turn him away from where he was staring, Luke walking out of the room where he had been waiting with a septon.  He looked up and saw Aemond and froze, and it was only because his wife tugged harder on his arm that he let her lead him away.

“We should speak with Aegon and your grandfather,” she said quietly.

“What has happened?” he asked.

She looked up at him, her expression more at peace than it had been in many days.  “There is much to be done.  I will tell you everything.”

She told him all the details of the conversation, Jace’s initial resistance and how they had come up with some possible options.  The problem was Otto.  The man would not be so open to anything that deviated from his wish to see Rhaenyra’s line completely nullified.  Maybe Aegon, newly reborn Aegon who saw things differently now, would be the key.

“You are right,” Aemond said, pacing again in their bedchamber.  “Grandfather will not be so easily led.”

“If the king himself wills it,” she replied, then rubbed her eyes.  “I am not used to being so tired.”  

He immediately took her hand, led her to their bed.  “Lay down.  I will not allow this business to take away from your health.”

“Will you stay with me?” she asked, slipping off her shoes, and Aemond tried not to react, tried not to show how her request touched him.  

“Of course,” he said simply, watching her as she undressed down to her shift and sat back against the pillows.  “Come here,” he murmured, and again, was surprised by the easy way in which she went into his arms, wrapped an arm around his waist and sighed.

Touched, he said nothing as she drifted off into sleep, but smiled as some time later she began curling into him, first her hand going higher up on his chest, then one shapely leg slipping over his thigh.  Her walls came down so easily in sleep, he thought, and he reached out to brush his thumb against her nipple.  She made a little noise and her fingers reached up to touch his neck.  He reached up under the hem of her shift, finding her warm and wet, soft, lazy circles that made her sigh.

Her lips parted and Aemond could not resist them, he ran the tip of his tongue along her bottom lip and she reached up, her eyes fluttering.  Before she fully opened them, he took her mouth, and she moaned against him. 

“Aemond,” she breathed when they pulled apart, and she let him shift her onto her back, spread her thighs apart so he could taste and devour. 

He took his time, her hands reaching into his as she rose and rose, letting her savor every single swipe of his tongue.  He would feel her fall, her body trembling, her breathing turning into sobs, but for now he delighted in the way her nails dug into the back of his hands, the way her thighs began to tense as he drove her higher and higher.

She moaned, never letting go of his hands.  When her hips began to rock ever so slightly, he knew, and feasted on her until she cried out, her sobs of pleasure the sweetest sound he had ever heard, her hands tight on his.

He rose to see her face flushed, her hair strewn all over the pillow.  Her eyes were dreamy and soft and she extended her arms to him.  

Tell me, tell me, do you love me?

He drove inside her, went into her arms, brushed her hair off her face.  There were words on his lips and he kept them to himself, palming one of her breasts instead.  She pulled him down to press her mouth to his, and he began snapping his hips.  The need to have her, soft and warm beneath him, might have shamed him some other time, but now he embraced it, the feel of her, her skin, her hands, her lips, and let her take everything from him.

* * * * * 

“Did you know Aegon has told Helaena he no longer wishes to share her bed?”

She turned to look at him.  “No.”

Aemond fixed his eye patch, tightened the tie in his hair.

“You are very beautiful, husband, now tell me more.”

He turned to find her smiling at him and rolled his eye at her.  “He told her he loved her as his sister and he loved their children, but he would not lay with her any more.”

“What did Helaena say?”

“According to Aegon, she smiled at him and kissed his cheek and then went to play with the children.”

She wrapped her braid around itself, secured a comb Rhaenys had given her long ago into it.  

Aemond walked up behind her, kissed her temple.  “I thought we would speak with Aegon first.  Present a united front to grandfather.”

And to your mother, she did not say.

They walked to Aegon’s rooms, and Aemond did not tell her he could see it now.  The gentle curve of her belly now had a small protrusion, barely visible, barely felt.  

* * * * * 

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[witchthewriter]

@blodgmonster.

𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑲𝒆𝒕𝒐𝒔! Merman of the fcken year! Sexy redhead with a hidden heart of gold <3 I think you two are like two peas in a pod. You would have such a banter-filled relationship. For a while you wouldn't take his flirting serious, when he's 100% serious.

𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒔

Half Shape-shifter & Half Fae. Still have the pointed ears.

𝑷𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓/𝑨𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚

Shape-Shifter | Fox: From your mother's side, a long line of shapeshifters of every type of forest animal. It was said that you family once reigned from another planet. In this form your are stronger, faster, and have keener senses than a regular human. You also have the ability to transform into a magically enhanced animal form. This gives you healing powers.

Nature Ability | Mother Nature's Descendant: You're able to control and manipulate the natural world around you; vines, trees, grass, fields etc. But you can also heal dying flowers and crops. It give you an afinity for animals and other species. Your kind-nature deems you a green flag to them.

Immortality: Having made the Drop, you have a slowed life-span as well as survive injuries that not even your accelerated healing would be able to regenerate from.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Loves when you shift into your fox form so he can give you a pet. It especially helps when you've had a bad day.

Nuzzles into your neck to smell you (both when you're in female and fox forms.) Your smell is still the same, however, when you have your tail it reminds him of nature.

Your pet names (which are said without shame and in public as well) are "foxy" (👀 such a creative mer), "love," "sweetheart," "sparky" "my little green thumb".

Flirting is a means of putting up a guard for Tharion. Once you stop engaging with his cheekiness and look at him; truly look at him. It's like his heart stops.

"You know you can tell me anything, right? I'm your mate. But I'm also your friend. I'll always be loyal to you." And then you sent a butterflies to land on his nose.

Isn't afraid of PDA, will have his arms around your shoulders or waist. Sometimes a cheeky hand on your bum with a lil squeeze. Kisses every five minutes. You actually think he might time them...

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔

Liquid Smooth by Mitski

Golden Years by David Bowie

I'd Rather Go Blind by Etta James

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

”I love you, wholeheartedly.” (You) x “You shouldn’t, I don’t deserve it.” (Tharion)

Calm bf x Hyper gf (I've always wanted to use this trope but no one fit it ... until NOW)

Love language is physical touch x Is touch starved (I feel like this goes both ways???)

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Soulmates/Bonded Pair

Battle of Wits

Mutual Growth and Empowerment

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Your fierce nature; he understands fear and low self esteem - he knows them very well. So whenever he sees you standing up for yourself or others (which is quite common) he is so damn proud. But it isn't as if he stands back and lets you do all the work. No. He's ready to jump in and back you up.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Ruhn! Oh my god, I think he would be absolutely besotted with your humour. You'd met at one of his parties, and yes - you had a major crush on him. It might have became a bit of a situationship at one point, but when Tharion came into the picture and you realised he was your MATE, then Ruhn was happy to take the place as best friend.

I also think the little fire sprites would adore you so much. There wouldn't be a time that they, or a little creature was on your shoulder. (The sprites would always be ready to throw it down whenever someone insulted you).

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

A mix between Juniper, Bryce and Lehaba! I think you are so uplifting, bold and fun. You light up a room, even if you cannot see it yourself. And you mean a lot to people even if you don't think you do. You are very loved. Also very creative, passionate and loyal.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕

It had been an ordinary day for you, a stroll in your favourite forest while Tharion was out doing Tharion things (work is what he was doing for *HOFAB spoilers*).

You heard a snap in the woods, but thought nothing of it. You were powerful, having your antidote from Hypaxia and feeling the best you had ever felt.

But you weren't prepared for a huge dragon whining from a few metres away.

Huddling an egg against her, trying to keep it warm. You assessed the scene: a mother dragon. Wounded. Most likely fatally.

Like a miracle, or ... fate ... she allowed you to show yourself and come closer. A tug, like a piece of thread pulling you towards her. The universe telling you it's alright.

Getting on your knees, you assessed her wounds and saw that they were gun shot wounds. In her wings, her legs, and a great slice across her abdomen.

Her babies had been taken. Only this one was left.

You could see in her eyes the pleading. She was giving you her last child. The only one that hadn't been taken somehow.

One of the smallest creatures you had ever seen emerged from the shell only days later, yawning but covered in gunk.

Tharion looked at you like you were crazy.

"Dragon, sweetheart. A pure fucking dragon."

You gave him an exasperated stare but continued to clean off the lil spikey man. Ignoring Tharion's pleas, you started talking to your new addition to the family. And he started talking back: oh oh no not human speak. But mumbling, chirping and trilling noises. He was not a shapeshifter.

"Not leaving him Tharion and that is that." You said over your shoulder to the Mer who still stood against the doorframe, arms wrapped around his chest.

With a huff as his final protest, he rolled his eyes and mumbled, "fine. But I'm not cleaning up any he decides to set on fire."

𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏! Honestly, a beast of a man. He has so much goddamn knowledge, so many books, he has freakin' FLYING HORSES (I forgot what they're called sorry). He would treat you so passionately and so fiercely. This man is just ... so much MAN.

𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒔

With the characters based on many types of gods and goddesses, I wanted to incorporate that.

The Goddess Artio aka The She-Bear, shapeshifter and Fae of the Woodland Realm. Mor, known as The Morrigan, had found you naked, walking out of the forest near her own home. She had cleaned you up and brought you to Rhysand.

𝑷𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓/𝑨𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚

The most obvious is the ability to shapeshift into a big bear, however, you also have a brilliant relationship with all animals. Able to communicate and preferring your time with them, rather than other people.

Some view you, Artio as a Goddess of the Hunt, some even associating you with Artemis. But you can also be seen as a protector - like a mother bear who fiercely protects her cubs.

You protect the wild animals, and the natural world, bestowing abundance of nature; healing, growing, nurturing. You can feel the trees and hear what they whisper. You are apart of the forest lands.

𝐓𝐎𝐆

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑫𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏! I know you only wanted CC. But I couldn't help it! I think Tharion and Dorian have similar personalities in a way. Where Dorian has a more steely backbone, Tharion hates to be contained. Anyway, I think Dorian would be absolutely enamorated with you. This is a picture of Dorian right as you made him laugh.

𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒔

Demi Fae and Half Crochan Witch. You never knew your witch side. No, not until after the Great War was over. Well, the second great war? When you felt the call to your Queen.

𝑷𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓/𝑨𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚

✨From the Crochan line, you possess:

Near-Immortality: Crochan witches age very slowly and as such have great lifespans.

Flight: Although they cannot fly unaided, Crochans can fly using redwood brooms.

Battle prowess: Crochans are trained rigorously to become skilled warriors.

✨From your Fae line, you possess:

A Fae's magic usually manifests itself in an elemental form; ice, fire, wind, darkness, or magic such as oracle sight or healing.

Fae usually have the magical ability to transform into another form, that being of an animal of some sort.

It was Water magic that appeared with your birth, giving you the ability to change into a sea-dragon at will. Your family were surprised at the power you held.