#Maiden of the Grove

[gear-project]

Hell, I wanted to ask. Dizzy is free of her seal in vasyedge right? I was curious if you know of any picture or videos showing that.

I understand vastedge info is already very rare. But I was wondering where it was found?

I'm aware that user Sol Radguy keeps an archive of sorts of the rips, but I'm not 100% sure if there was an actual clip of Dizzy in the animated ending the game provides.

From what I remember, Dizzy does make a brief appearance appearing outside her Seal in the GG2 Outfit she had (modified slightly for VastEdge concept art)... but not once does it mention Dr. Paradigm's involvement in breaking her Time Seal which was formed by the Thundersealed Sword (Ky's OutRage Jinki).

VastEdge just "hurriedly" assumes that Dizzy just pops out of the seal with her own powers and doesn't really explain much other than that.

Obviously, Dizzy's appearance in VastEdge is different from when she publicly re-appeared in Xrd Sign in front of Sin, but it is still based on her "Maiden of the Grove" appearance when she was frozen in the time seal.

#Dizzy #Maiden of the Grove #Guilty Gear VastEdge XT #GG VastEdge #Unconfirmed Info

[nyxsgrove]

Maiden, Mother, Crone

So, I decided to drop on the bandwagon! Safire talked about the warrior, father, and sage, so I’m going to tell you about the maiden, mother, and crone!  The Triple Goddess is more of an archetype than an actual deity. Sometimes the Triple Goddess is accepted as just a group of three Goddesses, such as the Greek Moirai, or Fates, and sometimes one Goddess is depicted as a triplicate, as many do…

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#Goddesses #maiden #mother #Nyx&039;s Grove #Pagan #Paganism #triple goddess #Wicca #Witch #Witchcraft

[frantic-fiction]

Hey you.

Pic: Cuddlelion on steam

Astarion x gn!Tav

Summary: Young Arabella comes to stay at the camp during the trip through the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Her curious questions affect Astarion more than it should.

Based on this post by the-phantom-otaku

Thank you to my lovely friend Ayselluna for requesting this fic sorry it took me so long. Hopefully you like it.

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

The camp is as lively as it always is. Gale is working away on the group's supper, Wyll giving him unwarranted pointers. Karlach is trying to sneak spoonfuls of the unfinished stew only to have her hand slapped away dramatically with a spoon. Shadowheart is in her evening prayer, and Haslin sits beside her in contemplation. Scratch and the owlbear cub are playfully wrestling in a mud puddle. The grinding sound of Lae'zel sharpening her sword echoes through the camp.

Astarion clenches his jaw, hands tightening against the leather binding of the book Tav had gifted him last week. He hated this time of evening the most when it was too late to keep moving on their journey but too late to hide away in his tent. Not that it would have stopped him before, but things have changed. Or maybe he had changed because he was waiting for them instead of tucking himself away.

Tav.

Because they should have been back by now, Tav had said they would only say hello to the skeleton. Something about 'Not wanting him to feel lonely.' It's a thing only Tav would think about because who cares about a reanimated skeleton besides Tav? But that was almost thirty minutes ago, and these woods left a sickly feeling lingering in the air. Astarion was familiar with darkness, but these shadowlands were filled with malice and evil, still not fully comprehended.

Astarion should find them. Ensure they're not trying to bring home an orphaned squirrel, stray cat, or whatever Tav seems to get up to when he's not watching. Make sure they're safe so he can quell the fire of anxiety that's eating away at him.

But as Astarion is tossing his book down to leave, Tav emerges from the red foliage. Their face is stretched into a soft, beaming smile, and the moon's glow cascades down in dim rays. Gods, they're always so breathtakingly beautiful that he doesn't think he'll ever get enough.

Tav shakes their head and speaks down. That's when Astarion notices the small tiefling child holding their hand. He recognizes her from the grove, Arabella. He smirked when he remembered her attempted robbery of that artifact from those testy druids. Then the images of her parents lying stiff in those dirty cots press forward into his mind, and he has to look away.

Now that he knows Tav is safe, he tries to focus back on the book. It wasn't anything special, just a romance novel about a dashing pirate and a blushing maiden. But Tav had gone out of their way to keep his collection filled with new material so he would not complain about the lackluster writing.

Astarion was halfway through the chapter by the time someone had approached. By smell, he knew it wasn't Tav, so he ignored them and hoped they would take the message and move along.

They didn't because soon there was a tug at his sleeve and a small clearing of one's throat.

"Hey, you!"

Astarion lowered the book and looked down to find Arabella looking expectantly up at him.

"Yes, hello," Astarion says cordially before pressing his face back into the book.

If he was being honest, children unnerved him. After being entombed for that long, painful year trying to save that young boy, he did everything in his power to steer clear of them. Astarion's hoping if he ignores the young girl long enough, she'll get bored and move on to bother the next party member.

However, the little tiefling wouldn't be swayed so easily.

"You look sick."

Astarion freezes and stares unblinkingly at the girl. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you're pale, sickly pale. You have dark circles under your eyes, and even your cheeks look kinda hollow. Are you okay?"

Now Astarion is thoroughly offended. Scoffing, he crosses his arms and sticks his nose in the air.

"I'm a vampire. I can't get sick." However, Astarion betrays his confidence by bringing one hand up to his face to prod at the skin under his eye.

"Really?" Arabella says in surprise, causing Astarion to snap his gaze down to the child. "Aren't vampires supposed to look young?"

Now fuming and outright pissed, Astarion sees the ghost of a smirk on the tiefling's face.

"Listen here, you little sh–"

"Astarion!" Tav interrupts, walking up behind and touching the girl's shoulder warmly.

"What? The little shit started it!"

Tav gives him a pointed look that he knows means he needs to calm down, or he will be in the dog house tonight.

"I didn't mean to upset him, ma'am," Arabella says, all sickly sweet, playing into your caring side. "I was just curious. I've never met a vampire before."

"No, the little devil-"

"Astarion," Tav warns, forcing him to bite his tongue. "Don't mind him, Arabella. Let's get you something to eat. Gale made a beef stew tonight."

Tav offers the young girl her hand, and as the two walk away, Arabella sends a smirk over her shoulder and sticks out her tongue, taunting him. Astarions hand twitches towards his dagger, wanting to teach the twerp a lesson, but he takes a deep breath and turns on his heel, storming into the tent.

By the time Tav retires for the night, Astarion is tucked away in the corner of the tent. He's glaring daggers at the hand mirror grasped tightly in his hand, willing the glass to show his reflection. Nimble fingers are poking and prodding and pulling at the skin under his eyes and around his face, trying to pick apart any details he could not see.

A deep frown pulls at his lips and creases his brow. Astarion's shoulders are slumped, betraying how much Arabella's words have affected him. It wasn't a secret the man was vain and took pride in his appearance. To have a child pick apart his insecurities left him upset and wanting nothing more than to see his face just once more.

Astarion is pulled from his brooding thoughts when he feels two arms snake around his middle and the soft press of kisses peppered up his neck. Instinctively, he melts into Tav's touch, still astonished by the simplicity of this new relationship.

"Hey, handsome," Tav breathes into his ear, pressing one more fleeting kiss just below before pulling away to get ready for bed.

He absentmindedly greets them, still too focused on his internal conflict. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Tav strip bare and move around, tossing random bits and bobs to find their night clothes. Once they're dressed, Tav stops and stands in the middle of the tent. He can feel them staring at him as he's transfixed on the empty mirror.

"Astarion,"

"Do I look sick?" He drops the mirror and turns to face Tav. "Do I look hollow and pale…old?" His voice trails off at the end, and he's unsure if he wants to know the answer, but it's eating away at him.

Tav's eyes soften. "Was that what Arabella said to you?"

Pity. He could see it in Tav's eyes, and he recoiled, disgust curdling in his gut.

Astarion scoffs." Please, Tav, I don't need your pity."

Tav grabs his hand and pulls him close. "There is no pity. Understanding yes. But not pity."

"It's all the same." Astarion looks down.

"No, but that's beside the point. Arabella is a child Star. They will say the most insulting things without realizing it or just because they know it will hurt. Do you want to know what I see?"

Astarion nods softly, holding onto the hem of Tav's shirt. He knows he's being foolish, but Astarion wants the reassurance that Tav is happy to give.

Tav cups his cheek, forcing him to meet their eyes. "Your face might look hollow to Arabella, but I see your high cheekbones and sharp jawline," Tav emphasizes their point by trailing a thumb against his jaw and pulling Astarion into a fleeting kiss. "Not to mention everything those lips and tongue have done to me."

Astarion smirked and chased after Tav's lips, pouting when he was denied.

Tav's hands trail down his chest and slip under his shirt, splaying against his cold skin. Astarion lets out a shaky breath. "Yes, you are pale, perhaps at times sickly. But I love it because after you've finished feeding, I see that beautiful flush covering your body."

"Maybe you have laugh lines and forehead creases that a little girl would consider old. But if you ask me? Astarion, when I see you smile and laugh, gods, it's the sexiest thing in the world. Because it shows me that you're happy and safe and here with me."

Tav has now thrown their arms over Astarion's shoulders and has pulled their body flush against his. Astarion is at a loss for words, especially when Tav looks at him with such love. Tav kisses him softly, and he tightens his hold, wanting nothing more than to meld into their body.

"So, who cares what a child thinks? You are beautiful, and between the two of us. I'm going to be the one worrying about wrinkles, not you, mister immortal vampire."

"Thank you, my love," Astarion whispered against Tav's lips, smiling into another sweet kiss.

"Let's lay down. I think it's time to cuddle, don't you think?"

Astarion's insecurities fade for the night because how can the darkness stand a chance when he has Tav as his guiding light?

Just something short and sweet while I'm in the middle of moving. Sorry if anyone felt ooc. Let me know what you guys thought of it.

Taglist: @heartfully10@ayselluna@marina-and-the-memes@anixson@canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr @lotusandcrystals @venussakura @synapticjive @skittleabyss @asterordinary @lariatbunny @whispering-depths @butchboi-chihuahua-slumlord @darkest-part-of-the-forest @queenofcarrotflowers-s @sessils @d20bunny @cherifrog @ophelia-ophelian @bgthree @darlingxdragon @mothynyx @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @babyqnn @mmendez0124 @kokoyu-art

Want to be added to the taglist? DM me please!

#astarion x tav #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 astarion #reader insert #fanfic #astarion ancunin #astarion imagine #frantic fiction #bg3 fic #bg3 tav #baldurs gate 3

[ghoularcade]

Introducing Gloomy Spring: a collection of 4t2 conversions for those who are as excited for spring as I am, but still desire a touch of macabre!

+= Download and more info below! =+

There is quite a bit here, so bare with me. In this set, you get:

+ A bouquet from Felixandre's Florence Set, converted 4t2 by me

+ A peacock chair from Felixandre's Grove Set, converted 4t2 by me (cloned from this)

+ A blooming skull by Dew of the Sea, converted 4t2 by me

+ Teatime table and tea tin by PTS, converted 4t2 by me (table cloned from this)

+ Tea set by dancemachinetrait, converted 4T2 by me

+ Recolors of the Grilled Cheese mesh by me, highly recommend the framed add-ons by CuriousB here!

+ Gramophone from Felixandre's Colonial, converted 4T2 by me

+ Globetrotting suitcases converted (?) + slotted by linacherie, and recolors from treefish & mayu added by me

+ Recolors of the Pineapple mesh by me, highly recommend the frame addons by CuriousB here!

+ Fallen, standing, and bouquet bottle by Pocci, converted 4t2 by me

+ Dresser converted 4t2 by TNW, plushpixels' recolors added by me (I did fix the slots)

+ ROM Vase by Pocci, converted 4t2 by me

+ Small Maiden by lumenniveus, converted 4t2 by me

+ Pile of paintings by Mel Bennett, converted 4t2 by me

+ Bunny from Pierisim's Oak House, converted 4t2 by me

+ Orchid from Felixandre's Colonial, converted 4t2 by me

SFS  (49 mb, swatches included)

Stay tuned for Part 2, in the gloomy garden!

#4t2 cc #4t2 #sims 2 cc #ts2cc #ts2 cc #ts2 #sims 2 #my cc

[sprout-fics]

Rotes Mädchen: Chapter 9 (Final)

(Werewolf! König x Red Riding Hood! Reader)

(Art by the lovely @zwienzixes)

(Masterlist)

Word count: 5.7k Rating: Mature Tags: Werewolf! König, Fairytale AU, Monster Hunters TF141, Witch Laswell, Traditional German Fairytale setting, World Building/Lore, F! Reader, Mating/Claiming Bites, Werewolf reveal, Chase and takedown, Happy ending Warnings: None A/N: Thank you to everyone who supported this series. I'm so immensely grateful to everyone who provided inspiration, encouragement, and support for this story. I'm so proud to be finished. Thank you so much.

Once more into the woods you run.

The glow of the village has long since faded behind you, the shouts and cries of the villagers as they ready themselves for the incoming devastation a mere echo through the trees. The wind muffles it, whispering through dry branches of sinister shadows and creatures that lurk within the groves around you. The breeze ruffles your skirt, tosses your scarlet cape across your form. Far above the canopy, the smoke from the burning wreckage of your home billows into the sky. The gentle, yellow light of the full moon now drips red from the fire, casting a hazy, crimson curse against the forest below.

It washes over your form as you turn your face to the sky, look to the moon which hangs as a deathly omen to all that gaze upon it. You wait for the towering figure of a wolf to rise far above the branches, to open its jaw and take the moon between its dripping fangs. Ink dark clouds roil before it, and in them you see the eyes of the beast threatening to stare back at you. They pin you where you stand, stare down through the trees and echo a growl to the rising wind.

The forest once felt like an ally to you. Now, it sets to betray you.

Konig is here, somewhere, amidst the trees. Feverish and dazed as he is, he couldn’t have gotten far from the village. Yet in the darkness, where you can scarcely see a few steps ahead of you, it’s impossible to find any tracks to lead you forward. Instead, your voice rises high to the heavens in a desperate bid to summon him to you.

“Konig!!”

It feels like it hardly carries above the wind that rakes through the trees, rustling leaves across the darkened path before awash in malevolent scarlet from the light of the moon. Your voice cries out through the trees as a wailing call, a tearful attempt to find the man who had held you in his arms and whispered endless devotions.

You don’t understand. Why did he leave, when you begged him not to? When he swore he’d stay, when he had asked you if you’d ever walk out of the woods beside him?

Was it all just a lie?

The forest holds all secrets. Now, it holds him away from you as well.

You make your way forward quietly, knowing you are far from alone in these woods. The threat of the beast within remains, and inside your thoughts the sonorous echo of his ominous howl reverberates in an endless omen. The memory of the towering, monstrous thing from the first night the witchers had come upon these woods has haunted you all this time.

Taller than any man, a huge, lumbering thing. Its arms too long, ears standing atop its furry head, huge spine hunched forward as a pair of gleaming, yellow eyes gaze at you from the trees. Fangs snarl at you in the confines of your mind, and you feel yourself caught between yellowed teeth as the thing crunches down in a killing blow. You think for a moment you hear the sounds of it giving chase above the rapid echo of your own terror, and despite yourself you venture a gaze behind you as Price’s horse thunders down the misty midnight path towards the safety of the village.

You see just a glimpse of it from beyond your fluttering red cape, a shadow that dwarfs your thoughts, a gaze that fixates on you from afar, seeming to promise ‘Soon, little maiden. Soon.’

Soon. You knew this entire time you would come to face the beast. A premonition lurked within you like a fawn disguised amongst the brambles, concealed and fragile, waiting for a thing you could not see. Trembling, it hid from shadows, blinked at the moving figures above, listening to the growl that prowled in search of your quivering form.

You thought you’d have more time.

Now, with the blood moon rising, the wind carrying the sound of your voice in a desperate cry, the darkness swallowing you whole, you fling yourself towards that violent fate. You run forward as panic mounts within you, feet thudding against the cold earth as you search for the soul of your beloved.

He’s here, you can feel it. You know you’ll find him, throw yourself into his arms and dry your face against his shirt as his arms close protectively around you. Somehow, you’ll find yourself facing the wolf together, finding a way forward as you both have vowed. Escape, or death, as long as he holds his hand in yours.

A howl splits the sky.

It begins as a low note and rises to full pitch just as goosebumps erupt across your skin in terror. The sound is deafening. It feels like it’s all around you with no discernible source, calling out your name as a herald of your demise. The howl shakes the ground below your feet, feels like it cracks the earth so you fall down into the endless forest, the branches closing above you as an inescapable prison.

You feel your chest rising unevenly, limbs shaking and breath curling away from you in a gasping billow of air. Terror roots you to where you stand, stifles your voice so the utterance of his name is a mere whisper.

“Konig.”

He said he’d protect you. He said he’d stay.

You knew you tasted lies on his tongue when you kissed him.

Yet you refuse to release him without giving chase.

You run forward once more, the apocalyptic red of the moon radiating off your scarlet cape, dyeing your figure the color of blood. The color of your inescapable fate.

Please. You beg the gods who do not listen. Let me see him. One more time. Let me kiss him and whisper words there even as I’m devoured.

Once more into the woods you run.

Shadows dance at the edge of your vision, and you spin towards them, eyes wild as you try to find Konig, the creature amongst them.

“Konig!!” You call again, listening for his answering call. You flee deeper into the woods, praying that with your next step you don’t find a mangled corpse at your feet.

Yet in the light of the moon, what you find instead is just as horrifying.

Fabric waves in the wind from a sapling that bends to the breeze, and as you near you catch it between your hands.

A dark, poorly sewn covering. The hood he used to cover his face.

Yet there’s no bloodstains, no indication of injury. Almost as if he had torn it from his figure himself. You gaze down at it, fingers tracing the seams, eyes not understanding. Had he shed it in his fevered state, full of delusions?

It doesn’t matter. He’s close, you can tell. Once more, you raise your voice to the rising wind in a cry for him.

“Konig!!”

Yet in the echo of your call, the woods fall ominously silent. The whisper of winter on the wind stills to a quiet hush, tickling the edge of your cape before it falls into stillness. The sway of the trees gently wavers to a halt, and even the clouds above seem to pause in their journey across the sky. The forest holds its breath, allowing the drum of your heartbeat to pulse too loud in your ears.

In the soundless woods around you, you feel an awareness prickle sharp across your neck, racing down your spine in acute realization.

You’re being watched.

Then, a growl.

Fear pulses in tandem with the icy rush of blood in your veins, chest compression the air in your chest into a silent, trembling breath. The low, grinding sound of the growl reverberates ceaselessly in your thoughts, echoing there with the sound you heard so long ago, on the day you began to be plagued by nightmares of the hulking, towering figure that haunts the woods.

You turn in slow motion, limbs shaking, eyes wild and unblinking. You feel as if you move through water, and even as something pulses inside you to run, RUN! you can’t seem to make yourself flee. You remain grounded to the spot, the roots of your feet extended deep into the earth and planting you where you stand. Instead you’re forced to turn to gaze upon the thing that you know will be your destiny.

You expect a shadow, a hulking mass the same as the one you saw in the woods that night. Yet instead the first thing you see is the eyes, the pair of glowing, golden orbs that stare at you from the trees that arch above your trembling form.

Yet then the thing rises, its front paws leaving the earth as it grows taller, taller. With every heartbeat you watch as the beast ascends to its full height, the golden eyes rising through the branches, seemingly past the canopy. An ancient, primordial terror seizes inside you as the monster dwarfs you with its massive size, centuries of instinct bred into your veins by your ancestors to fear the thing before you, to regard it with such terror it urges you to flee to the end of the earth just to avoid its killing bite.

The werewolf raises its muzzle up into the sky just as the clouds part, reddened light streaming through and alighting the creature in the blood red drip of the sky above. It parts its jaws in a snarl, claws extended outwards to reveal the muscle in its arms and torso, fangs gleaming in the ruby glow that makes scarlet ooze from its mouth as it parts-

and howls a catastrophic omen to the heavens.

You will yourself to cover your ears, but your fists remain at your side, one hand still gripping the fabric of the man you may never see again. Instead, your eyes remain locked on the werewolf that towers far above you, with such monstrous height and size you think it may devour you whole.

He can swallow the moon. You think with such stomach-turning dread that every other thought within you sucks into petrified silence.

I’m going to die.

It’s that thought that finally releases you.

You’re sprinting away before you can process the ground moving under your feet, boots thudding against the earth as you fling yourself further into the trees. The long note of the beast’s howl trails after you, dimming to nothingness as the wind rises once more, as your own heaving breaths muffle every other sound in the world around you.

RUN.

You weave deftly between the branches and trunks of the trees around you, your smaller size an advantage to the monster’s lumbering stature. The forest reveals itself to you at last, seems to part before you as you hurl yourself in an unknown direction, a bloodied path with a fatal end. The trees swallow you, try vainly to hide you within their depths as you feel the earth thud, and the monster finally gives chase.

You suck in air desperately, chest compressing in dangerous hyperventilation as you flee. You can’t stop it, you don’t even try, knowing every single moment could be your last. Legs pumping, you try to remember which way you came, trying to remember the dips of brooks and streams, of crags to hide yourself in, the way back in the direction of town in a vain bid to lure the beast into the swords of the hunters there.

Yet in your chest a single word echoes out in a deafening prayer, a scream for rescue towards the one who vowed to protect you.

“KONIG!!”

The beast follows behind you, and you feel the ground shaking under your feet as it closes the distance, tearing trees like branches as it carves a path forward towards your fleeing form. You hear the crack of wood- the sound of an ax hammering through trunks, felling ancient oaks just to taste the warm drip of your blood against its fangs. Each step it takes trembles the earth like a war drum, every beat within your chest feels like the moments ticking until the jaws seize about form, crushing you in half as your scream fills with scarlet-

PLEASE!! You shriek vainly towards the gods, tears filling your eyes with the futility of this chase, knowing it only ends one way. ONCE MORE. LET ME SEE HIM JUST ONCE MORE.

The moon stares balefully down upon your crimson clad form. Silent, imminent, unavoidable since before the day this story began.

Your cape snags against a bramble of thorns, and at the speed you launch yourself with the tie around your neck chokes the air from your lungs. You tug frantically at the fabric, hearing it tear as you rip yourself free, casting a single glance over your shoulder at the thing behind you.

It’s several long strides away, once more on all fours, steam streaming from its dripping maw as it pants and gives chase. Paws the size of your head impact the earth, drumming a rhythm there that screams higher with the pulse between your ribs. The golden eyes trace you as you stumble in your terror, promising a fatal bite that grows closer with every passing second.

You’ll never outrun it.

You try desperately to think past the veil of all consuming fear within, trying to find a solution, a way out, a path forward further into the woods so deep it cannot find you.

The solution comes before you can fully consider it. In the darkness, you don’t see the dip of the stream bank ahead of you. You yelp as you fall forward, unintentionally launching yourself into the water below. It’s not so deep it covers you fully, but the sudden shock of the cold brook manages to steal the air from your lungs as you raise yourself up with shaking limbs. The deafening huff of the beast is just beyond you, and in blind terror you lurch forward once more.

Yet the forest, in all its secrets, offers you a hidden enclave, a shelter. Your hand finds the deep swell of a space between the rocks, damp and shadowed, a space just large enough to fit yourself into. Your chest heaves in gasping breaths as you cram yourself into it, allowing the rocks to swallow you. It’s in his memory, you think, remembering the way you found Konig curled into the same hollow between the trees and rocks, eyes terrified and somehow hopeful as he once reached for you.

He could be already dead. Devoured by the wolf, and with you never having the chance to say goodbye.

Yet you stifle your tears as the werewolf pounces into the stream with a throat tearing snarl, snuffling along the bank’s edge in an effort to trace your scent. You pray that your fall into the water has erased the smell of your fear it uses to follow you, that the shadows of your small enclave conceal you enough to avoid the gaze of its glowing, golden eyes.

You can hear the monster splashing in the stream, growling in frustration as it tries and fails to detect you, nose lifting to the wind to catch your scent. It barks in growing anger, the sound full of ire, grinding deep in its throat. You shiver in the darkness, frigid, wet, shaking from head to toe in your fear. You force yourself to try and not even breathe, for fear the monster will somehow hear that too. You wish in a futile prayer for the moon to set, for the sun to rise and the monster once more to fade into the trees, away from your terrified form huddled into the embankment.

Please. Please. Please. Go away. Just go. Please.

The monster howls towards the sky once more in an angered cry, and the sound shakes the earth under you, seems to echo off the rocks that ensconce your form. The whimper that bubbles up your throat is muffled by the roar, and you shift to gather your cape tighter around you as if it somehow offers a shield of protection.

Then, the world goes silent.

You’re clenched so tight you almost don’t notice at first, eyes scrunched shut and figure curling in on itself as much as the space will allow. A sob clings to the back of your throat, and you will it through sheer force into silence unless it betrays you. Yet the huff and growl of the monster beyond you has vanished. The stream babbles gently in its absence, a soft, almost soothing sound paired with the rustle of trees far above.

You wait a long breath, wait longer for your heart to begin to still before you allow your shoulders to drop, your eyes to open.

Only to stare into the golden gaze of the werewolf.

You scream, and scream louder as a claw snags the edge of your cape, allowing the monster to drag you from your shelter.

“NO. NO!!” You shriek, struggling as the thing parts its jaws in a sinister snarl. Your hands work frantically at the tie around your collar, fingers fumbling as you fall onto your side, the impact rattling the air from your heaving chest.

Somehow, you manage to free yourself, and as the monster plucks the red fabric of your cape between its fangs, you miraculously manage to dart under one of its massive legs and fling yourself up the slope of the embankment. You claw at branches and roots, fingers digging at dirt as you somehow haul yourself up onto solid ground once more. Yet you have not a moment of relief, not as the monster quickly realizes your ruse and gives chase once more.

You cry as you flee, trying to remember the sacraments for the dead as the warm breath of the monster falls upon your nape, quickly closing the distance behind you. A sob tears from your throat, and the memory of your beloved’s gentle embrace, his kisses and devotions provide no shelter from the monster that pursues you.

A swipe to your legs is all it takes to send you tumbling, ground rushing up to greet you harshly. Yet even then you try to struggle away, crawling forward, your eyes streaming with tears. The monster looms above you, uses a mere ounce of strength to flip you onto your back, pin you beneath a single, massive paw.

“Konig.” You sob, vainly trying to dislodge the weight above you, a futile effort as the wolf lowers its maw towards your weak and prone form. A growl reverberates all the way from its chest down into the marrow of your being, and it once more forces a wordless cry as you’re pressed helplessly into the earth.

The werewolf stares down at you, muzzle bunched in a snarl as it lowers its muzzle closer towards the soft, tender arch of your throat. The bite from Konig remains there, and you sob as you remember the words he whispered as he engraved a claiming mark into your flesh.

"Rotty." He growls again, voice deeper, somehow feral. "My Rotty."

Wild, somehow, as he’d held you, barely able to restrain the savageness inside him that seemed more creature than man.

You blink, lips parting, breath caught in your throat as somehow the forest reveals all things kept secret within its depths, at last allowing you to glimpse upon the truth held within the both of you all this time.

The bite mark on his leg. The trap that had been laid by the witchers that had caught the hock of the wolf. The strange disappearance of the monster as you’d sheltered a stranger in your home. His disgust with the scent of wolfsbane on your palms. The interest in his stare that offered a silent watchfulness, an unwavering focus like the lurking gaze of a predator from the woods. The glint of his golden yellow eyes is the same color as the stare above you.

“The wolf won’t hurt you, Rotty. I promise. I’ll protect you.”

“Konig.” You whisper in awed realization, watching as the monster opens its jaws to descend ever so slowly towards your throat.

He left you. He was trying to protect you. Protect you from himself.

He is the wolf from your nightmares.

and somehow, the man from your daydreams.

“It was you.” You whisper, tears still streaming but somehow not afraid, breath released in a sigh as you grow limp under the grasp of the beast above you. “It was always you.”

The pale light of the moon falls upon your open, tender gaze even as warm breath huffs across your skin in the promise of a killing bite.

The words of Laswell, the words you didn’t understand, now unwind themselves in the prophecy of which she spoke.

Laswell holds you, hands clinging tightly to the cape she once bestowed upon you as a gift of her affection towards you.

“There’s one more thing.” She tells you, and in her voice you hear prophecy, the magic she keeps in careful concealment. It winds around you like brambles, a protection for the soul inside you striving towards something you’ve desired all your life, something which remains so close and just out of reach, residing in the woods you’ve always called home.

Laswell gathers you to her, and whispers words in your ear you don’t yet understand, holds you tight like she would a daughter.

“The only way to stop a werewolf.” She speaks to you in a voice that speaks of prophecy. “Is for his name to be echoed thrice by the voice of his beloved.”

Teeth scrape against the flesh of your throat. Your arms raise around the neck of the monster, embracing him so you nuzzle your cheek into his pelt. You drink in the scent of him- familiar, earthy, a touch of smoke from the warm billow of your hearth, and within it the breath of something forever wild and untamed. There, you whisper the final sacrament to this story of yours in a beloved sigh of complete and total surrender.

“Konig.”

The werewolf above you freezes, teeth closed gently around your neck, not yet drawing blood.

You close your eyes, turning your head ever go gently, and press a kiss into his fur.

“Let’s walk out of these woods, together.”

It’s still for a moment, the whisper of the wind through the trees hushing unspoken words onto both your forms, the forest waiting, holding its breath for what comes next.

The creature above you makes a sound, something caught between a growl and a voice, and in it you hear the name he has bestowed upon you.

“Rotty.”

His fangs relinquish their hold on you, drawing back at the same time the paw that pins you withdraws, his form shifting, changing. You watch in awe as the monster before you transforms, fur growing inwards, the bulk of his massive frame folding. His animalistic features retreat from snarling fangs and outstretched claws to human features, shoulders shortening, limbs thinning, until at last the form of a man appears underneath. Konig bows under the transformation, body wracking with a deep shudder as his bones fold themselves back into place, skin knitting so his wolfish features disappear.

At last the pale flesh of his form is revealed, and Konig gasps hoarsely as he falls forward, arms buckling under him so he flops onto your form.

You reach out and catch him, feel the air rush from your lungs as the exhausted weight of him presses down on you. Your hands wrap around his neck, shoulders, and you bury your nose into the crook of his neck, whispering comforts there as he shivers.

“Rotty.” He manages again, voice now absent of the feral growl. Instead he whimpers, broken and desperately relieved, forcing strength into his arms so they wrap around you in turn. “Rotty...I-”

“Shh.” You hush him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You’re safe. I’m alright. We’re okay.”

Konig shivers again, hiccups a small, sorrowful sound into your shoulder.

“I tried to save you.” He rasps. “I knew if I stayed that-”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “I...nearly killed you.”

“I know.” You tell him, a hand reaching up to pet at his hair. “I saved you.”

Konig nuzzles deeper into you with a trembling sigh, hauls you closer to him. “How did you...?”

You smile, staring up at the moon. For the first time, you notice that the red haze of smoke from the village is dissipating, leaving behind a gentle, pale yellow that bathes you both.

“A friend.” You confess. “Someone who had faith in me.”

Konig is still for a moment, before he at last rises off you, bracing himself on his elbows so her hovers just above your face. Without his hood, you see his features for the first time. A strong jaw, a tickling of a beard, a slightly crooked nose, long dark hair that drapes across his forehead and neck, and...

You blink, fingers coming up to trace the corner of his mouth.

Sharp canines that speak of something other than human.

“What sharp teeth you have.” You murmur softly, expression softening, and you watch in awe as Konig’s face pinches, tears welling into his eyes.

“Rotty.” He sobs, ducking his head. “Rotty, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean, I never-”

You watch him, transfixed by this new myriad of expressions you’re witnessing for the first time, lips parting in wonder. The words inside you escape before you can stop them.

“You’re so...beautiful.” You whisper, watching as his eyes shoot up towards yours, shocked. You can only offer a tender smile, a sweet and beloved reassurance as your hand traces his cheek in a loving gesture.

“I love you.” He tells you, barely audible, as if he’s almost scared to say it, scared of his devotion towards you. It clenches something tight in your chest, and you feel your own expression finally crumple, warmth flooding your eyes once more.

You stretch up, press your lips to him in a chaste contact, and whisper there the words you’ve wished so desperately to say this entire time.

“I love you, Konig.”

He shudders at the sound of your breathless confession, and gently grazes his lips against yours, as if he can taste the words there.

“Beloved Rotty.” He murmurs, and bends at last to kiss you.

You press into him eagerly, head falling back onto the earth as he chases you, mouth slanting against yours with a sigh. Your hand raises to tangle in his hair, and it solicits a groan from him, deep and cavernous like the wolf he is inside. You feel his teeth bite at your lip, fangs scraping across the plush skin. You shudder at the pure possessiveness with which he kisses you, as if to remind himself that you’re whole, his, only ever his. His Rotty. His beloved. His mate.

You whisper his name once more and allow him to devour you whole.

---

The sun rises gently over the village.

In Laswell’s quiet cottage, pale morning light seeps through the windows, and washes over her in a soft, dove gray that catches the color of her eyes. She gathers her things, collects her belongings and prepares herself for the long journey that is about to come.

In her hands, a letter.

Dearest Kate,

I’m safe, but you probably knew that when you saw this.

I’ve decided to leave the village, and my guess is so have you.

I have someone to go with, but I think you knew that too.

We’ll be fine, don’t you worry. I’ll find a way to visit soon.

Just not yet. I hope you can explain to Price and the others

what has happened. I hope they’ll understand, and that

someday I can see them again. Give them my love.

Tell them I understand why they did what they did in

hiding the truth from me. I know they were trying to

protect me, and I don’t hold it against them.

I have someone to protect as well, and he’s going to

protect me too. We have each other, and I’m more

happy than I can write here.

You had faith in me. You always have. You knew

that only I could break this curse, and even at the

risk of my own life you believed in me. Without you,

I would have lived a life of heartache. Thank you for

saving me from that. Know that I will find a way to

see you soon, and until then I hope you are happy,

and well, and safe.

With all my love,

Red...and Konig

Laswell stares down at the paper with sad, fond eyes. There’s a bitter sweetness to her smile, a happiness that is stifled only by your absence. She comforts herself with your words, with your promise to come see her once more. Yet she’s glad to watch you leave, as if observing a fledgling lark take flight for the first time and ascend far above the trees, into the blue sky. There will be a time when you come back to nest into her arms, and she trusts for the day to come soon when she can embrace you as the daughter you are to her.

A knock on the door. She turns, taking in the weary, grieving form of Price as he stands on the threshold.

“It’s time.” He tells her, voice mournful, muted. Laswell tilts her head, smiles at him before gesturing to him inside. He stands at her side, brow bunched in dismay, and she turns to him, cups his face in fond familiarity.

“John.” She murmurs. “I have something to tell you.”

---

The wind rushes past your ears as you fly across the earth, hands gripped tight to the beast that moves under you. Fur tangles between your fingers, and you use it to brace yourself with every powerful roll of shoulders that carries you forward. Warm, panting breaths huff into the growing winter air, steam billowing from the creature’s mouth as his paws thunder against the ground. You cling to him as he runs, the crimson of your cape streaming out behind you like a bloodstain.

You look to the sky, where the sun rises above a clear, pale blue, and the moon nestles softly beyond the horizon- waiting, silent, until it rises once more. The vast expanse of azure you were never able to fully see extends endlessly out before you as you’re carried far above the tree line, into the mountains, and away from the village you once called home. Instead, your eyes take in the never-ending forest below, and gaze further up into the misty slopes wherein you will plant new roots for you and him.

The beast under you slowly trots to a halt amidst a fern lined grove, glances at you over a single massive shoulder with golden eyes. You stroke through his dark fur before sliding from his back onto solid earth once more. As you do, the wolf rises and shifts, bones shifting inwards until Konig is at last revealed with a soft sigh. He stands bare beside you as you toe the edge of the cliff to take in the view below. The smoke from the village can no longer be seen, well behind you now as you travel towards the future. The changing colors of fall have begun to fade, and you shiver at the thought of the long winter that’s yet to come.

Konig loops his arms around you from behind, drags you to him so the warmth of his frame bleeds into you. You go easily, lifting a hand to gently grasp at his arm as you two stare down at the valley below.

“We’ve a long ways to go, Schatz.” He murmurs, propping his head above yours and swaying gently on his feet. “We’ll need to find a den before winter comes.”

You hum a low note in response and allow yourself to imagine it- a new home. One with furs lining the floors, plush beneath your bare feet. A fire blazes brightly, smoke lifting upwards with the scent of cedar. You feel the warmth of it cast golden across your bare form as you pad over towards the nest you share with him. Both of you, strange, mysterious creatures of the woods- once alone, now together. He embraces you, gathers you to him and descends towards your waiting lips. You taste devotions on his tongue.

“My mate.” He purrs from behind you, as if imagining the same vision. He leans down to nuzzle at your cheek affectionately, drinking in your scent with a pleased, rumbling growl. You crane your head to offer him a kiss and feel the smile there as you do.

“My wolf.” You murmur in return with a breathy sigh, cup his face in tender affection. A sound rumbles low in his chest- possessive, protective, and utterly devoted.

He tilts his head, noses along the bruise he left on your neck with a displeased little whine.

“It’s fading.” He remarks quietly, noting the waning colors. “My claiming bite.”

You arch your neck so he has better access to it, sighing languidly in response. “Is that what makes me yours?” You ask softly.

Konig pauses then, and soon you find yourself facing him, caught in his arms as your hands brace themselves on his bare chest.

“No.” He tells you, staring down with his beautiful eyes, the color of a damp, green forest. “I can bite you, claim you forever, but you’re mine no matter what, Rotty.”

You offer him a smile of pure adoration, eyes full of a love so deep not even the endless forest has room to contain it. You stroke his face, your beloved wolf, and whisper the words that are your destiny.

“Then claim me.” You tell him softly, feeling prophecy unfurl once more. “Forever. I’m yours.”

Gold swallows green in his gaze, eyes glimmering brightly as he gathers you to him once more. You sigh into his lips as his arms close around you, unspooling your crimson cape so it sprawls on the earth below.

“Beloved Rotty.” He murmurs with the low intonation of a wild thing now tamed by your hands. “My Rotty.”

He lays you down amongst the ferns, presses his teeth to the soft flesh of your neck...

and you allow red to seal your fate.

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#konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #könig x you #witcher 141 au #könig x f! reader #my fic #fic: rotes madchen #werewolf x reader

[semisolidmind]

i know it's all about the lion's den AU rn and as usual I am FEASTING on the content (excuse the crumbs) but there's an idea that won't leave me alone-

what if Peaches was not human, but an immortal from the beginning? How much would change? I know the whole appeal of these AUs - I mean, that's why I love them and I absolutely love this lil corner of the fandom. but I've been kinda diving into the whole immortality biz in Chinese myths for my oc, so now I'm curious.

Peaches could be someone cultivating and practicing Xian (i hope I'm using that right) for years, or consumed pills/elixir of immortality somehow, or a demon who is oddly very kind and empathetic - would the bois still love her just as much? How different is the dynamic now even if Peaches retains her core personality traits?

love your work! and hydrate before ya diedrate

ive been thinking about this, and i kinda like the idea of immortal reader being an attendant of the heavenly peach orchard.

not super high up the ladder, but not at the bottom either. her powers are limited to helping plants grow just a little bit, creating temporary barriers, and being able to float the way all celestials can. the higher-ups figure that since no one is bold or stupid enough to steal from heaven, they don’t need any extra security in the immortal peach groves.

you can take a guess as to how reader meets the monkeys.

they show up to the orchards, ready to fight their way to the peaches, but instead of some overpowered celestial soldiers guarding the orchard, it's....one immortal maiden. just the one. but she doesn't seem all that powerful, soooooo...

...maybe she'd agree to let them take a few without too much trouble?

the monkey bros go the "oh don't mind us we're just a couple of cute lil monkeys, here to cause adorable and harmless mischief" route in their approach to getting reader to let her gaurd down.

they approach her while she takes a break from pruning some dead branches. she's understandably surprised and suspicious about these two seemingly normal monkeys who've snuck in, but... they are pretty cute. and tame; they let her pet them and give them scritches. perhaps they're one of the heavenly official's pets. reader supposes that they can stay for a while.

wukong and macaque play their parts, get reader's guard down, and steal a couple dozen peaches each. reader notices, but there's not much she can do beyond shooing the monkeys out with a broom (and her soft heart barely allows her to do that). she knows that if she reports it, those cute lil monkeys will be hunted down and killed.

she supposes she could put in a request for higher walls around the grove, or more barriers (she still wonders how the boys managed to get through the first ones), but with how slowly things get done in the bureaucracy...it'd be a very, very long time until it was even brought up in court.

besides, even then....they're monkeys. animals. she won't place blame on them for being what they are. those little cuties probably had no idea that the immortal peaches were any different from the ones on earth.

she could never stay mad at their adorable lil faces anyways.

---

reader, despite what you might think, has a pretty laid back job. once all her chores for the day have been completed (those magic trees don't really need much beyond the essentials to do their thing), she has a good amount of free time to sit and, you guessed it—read.

macaque (because of course, he has to be the first one to fall in every au) decides, on a bored whim, to go visit that nice attendant they stole from not too long ago. perhaps he'll collect some intel while he's up there.

he finds her after a bit of searching. reader sits in a secluded corner of the grove, leisurely turning pages and enjoying the shade. macaque, still disguised, sidles up to her. reader notices, seeming surprised to see him before her face morphs into... a rather adorable pout. perhaps she thinks she's being intimidating.

'damn, no wonder the bureaucracy didn't think they needed any more security,' macaque thinks sarcastically. such a fearsome maiden they've chosen to guard the immortal peaches.

while reader takes a minute to admonish him about stealing, it isn't long before she sighs and gives up on her lecture in favor of scratching him gently behind his ears. he churrs low in his chest. her whole demeanor is as soft and sweet as the peaches she guards (her hands as well, he notes, pressing into them).

macaque laughs internally. a fearsome maiden, indeed.

macaque manages to wiggle his way into reader's lap, pulling her attention from her book. she knows she should be trying to scare him off, but...just—just look at him! he's so cute, and she's too pulled in by how cute he is to notice the oddly powerful aura he seems to exude (far too powerful to be a normal monkey). he enjoys her touch for a while longer before he hears the far-off call of his annoying brother, wondering where he is. he bumps his head into reader's hand by way of goodbye before running off to shadow away more secretively.

reader watches him go, sighing. she really should shoo him away next time.

---

macaque keeps coming back. and reader continues to be unable to kick him out.

with very few visitors and no one else to talk to, reader begins to tell him everything that she overhears during the day; the officials don't think anyone is listening when they air out their gossip as they walk by the orchard. she doesn’t know it, but she’s saving macaque the energy of using his powers to gather this intel on his own.

the six-eared demon makes a habit of showing up to the grove to laze around with his favorite maiden and listen to her read, using “spying” as the excuse he gives his brother for why he's been running off so often. reader seems to have accepted that he won't be leaving her alone any time soon, and he takes full advantage. macaque comes to think of reader and the secluded corner of the grove as his own little peice of heaven.

of course, sooner or later, wukong joins in. he's a bit angry that macaque didn't just say he was visiting the peach orchard and it's attendant; he wouldn't have minded, he would've come with! macaque doesn't bother trying to explain that he didn't want to share.

but share he does, seeing as wukong greedily takes all the attention from reader he can get. the monkey king finds himself enamored with the maiden who's hands and heart are as soft as the fruits she tends to. he won't admit it (it may hurt his carefully crafted "ruthless demon king" image if he did), but wukong is a cuddle bug when it comes to reader. everything about her is just so soft, and she's so kind, and she always smells like peaches—he could spend hours laying on her chest as she reads.

he just feels so...peaceful, with her.

the boys are entangled in reader's life, visiting whenever they can and butting into whatever she happens to be doing. they see her day to day happiness (brief conversations with the lower maids she's friends with), and her struggles (the two monkeys bore witness to the officials taking their anger out on reader over something trivial, their rage towards heaven growing stronger). the two grow more and more attached to her as time goes on.

and so they begin to work a small abduction into the grander scheme of their plan.

---

sooner or later, the monkey warlords properly raid heaven. they and their demon army storm the jade palace, murdering servants, footsoldiers, and as many officials as they can. the monkey king and the six-eared macaque lead a massacre so bloody it stains the palace walls red. wukong especially holds back none of his rage, getting caught up in his hatred for heaven and zealously continuing to shed as much celestial blood as he can.

during a lull in the chaos, macaque, covered in vicera, makes his way to the immortal peach grove. with the battle coming to a close and the demon forces being driven back, now is as good a time as ever to snatch up a special “peach” for himself and his brother.

he finds said peach preoccupied with a gallant attempt at protecting herself and a few lower maids from a demon soldier, using a series of barriers. the soldier breaks the barriers almost as fast as reader can make them, rapidly pushing her and her companions into a corner. reader puts up a brave fight, but she's a celestial attendant, not a celestial warrior.

macaque calls out to the soldier, halting their attack and telling them to regroup with the others and prepare to move out. the soldier complies, crassly assuring the women that they’re about to be nothing more than bloody pulp on the garden wall. no one has ever gone against the shadow general of the demon army and lived.

macaque waits until the soldier is out of sight before leisurely approaching the still quivering group of maids and their determined, but exhausted looking guard. reader tenses as he steps closer. she feels a horrible sense of dread crawl down her spine when she gets a good look at him.

the dark fur, the shape of the mask marking on his face...reader feels tears start to bead at the corners of her eyes.

this entire time, she'd been petting and coddling the six-eared macaque. the second in command of the dreaded demon army has been sitting right in front of her and she had no idea. reader can barely keep her breathing steady.

and if this is her dark-furred companion, then the lighter-furred one must be…oh stars.

…she let the monkey king in.

she practically threw open the doors for him. she didn’t report them when she should have, she knew there was something strange about them but she was so sure they were just normal animals—oh stars above, if the jade emperor ever discovered this, she’d be executed.

but…but reader steels herself. she can deal with that later. her friends are counting on her.

now, she’s certainly not expecting the blood-covered demon general across from her to be open to bargaining (he could just kill all of them now, but reader gets the feeling he wouldn't be merciful enough to end it quickly). and he knows exactly what leverage he has over her, she can see it in the smug look on his face.

but she tries anyways.

“let them go, please,” she begs breathlessly, arms shaking from the strain of maintaining her magic. the least she can do is buy her friends a moment more. “do whatever you want with me, but they are blameless.”

macaque chuckles, the sound reverberating lowly between the trees. whatever he wants, huh? oh, sweet peach. she should know better than to give him so much leeway.

“that is tempting. if that’s the case, then perhaps you’ll go with me willingly,” he muses, tail swaying slowly. his fangs glint dangerously when he smirks.

“don’t fight, and no harm will come to them. that, and your secret will be safe with me. honest."

reader doesn’t believe him. she can’t, but she and her friends are so low priority that calling for help would be useless. if the demon army has been as effective as the screaming would lead her to believe, the celestial host has much bigger problems than rescuing a gardener and some lowly maidservants. and with the chance that she’ll be seen through and blamed for every gory death that's happened beyond the walls of the peach groves...

she doesn’t have a choice.

reader slowly, cautiously lowers her barriers, despite the worried cries of the maids behind her. they cower closer together as reader takes a slow step closer to macaque.

with a flick of his wrist, reader is struck by a sleeping spell so potent she falls into macaque's waiting arms like a lead weight. the demon gathers his beloved into his hold with a gentleness that doesn't fit his gory visage.

he sinks into a shadow, leaving the maids to clutch each other and cry at the loss of reader and the near loss of their own lives.

---

reader wakes up days later in the royal bedchambers of the stone palace. she startles at seeing the monkey king and the six-eared macaque laying on either side of her, stripped to just a loose pair of pants each. she herself has been changed to a comfortable silk robe, her own clothing nowhere to be seen.

reader feels a cold sludge in her gut. she scrambles out of the pillow pit, kicking a few into the face of one of her captors as she goes. she checks herself over, looking for bite marks, claw marks, anything to indicate the two demons sharing a bed with her had violated her in any way. she looks, and breathes a heavy sigh.

she finds nothing.

"we figured we'd wait until you were awake to start marking territory," the tired, yet still somehow smug voice of the monkey king chimes from behind her. reader turns to see the demon leveling an amorous look her way. his gold and crimson eyes burn like fire in the low light.

reader ignores him in favor of falling to her knees and burying her face in her hands. now that she has a moment to think, her failure has decided to take centerstage; she was the one who let the monkey king into the jade palace, she let him steal the immortal peaches, she's the one who carelessly shared all the gossip that told them when the best time to attack would be, she's to blame for all the lives lost—

"hey. y'know we would've raided heaven even if we hadn't met you, right? it's not your fault," macaque says, propping his head in his hand to look at her. he doesn't have the decency to hide how he's sizing her up, poison purple eyes glowing whilst tracing her curves. reader shrinks into herself a bit more.

"yep. don't feel too bad, peaches. i was never gonna spare any of those bureaucrats in the first place," wukong adds. "and besides, none of those guys cared about you anyway, so why feel bad?"

reader sobs, pressing her hands to her eyes. she knows. she knows how callous the officials could be, but that doesn't mean they deserved to die. it doesn't mean the servants and foot soldiers who were only following orders deserved their fates.

she hears movement, then feels a set of strong, furred arms wrap around her. wukong rests his head on her shoulder. he nuzzles his nose against her neck. she feels his warm breath and the glance of deadly sharp fangs when he speaks.

"they didn't deserve the mercy you seem to think they did."

---

wukong places a seal on reader's powers. what little defense she had against them is gone with the placement of a brand-like marking in between her shoulder blades (and a few more along her shoulders made with his teeth).

reader can't do anything. wukong won't let her leave, and even if she could, the heavenly court will have her executed if she goes back. so, she remains on the monkey king's mountain.

she didn't think she'd share a fate with the precious fruit she'd failed to protect.

#bad end wukong #twice as bad au #immortal peach au #i guess??? cause shes an immortal??? #this got waaay longer than expected #got tired and couldnt figure out how to end it #dialogue is hard

[auspicioustidings]

For the 1k requests/suggestions:

Druid!Soap who's protected the lands faithfully and ferociously for years, and Reader, the nature god/goddess/diety/spirit of those lands, decides to reveal herself and reward him for it?

Could go in any direction you want, pure fluff or darker or smut or anything! Just the first idea I had

Ok so you know how you said it could be darker or smut? Got carried away with this one :') This is just feral PWP that was written in one sitting and Johnny is mean as shit in it so pls HEED THE CWs.

Foul Magic

Words: 2.8k

CWs: Non-con, heavy smut, threatened bestiality (sort of, it's a Druid-ey shapeshifting hybrid thing and I have no clue how to CW that)

He was your greatest protector, had been for a decade now. When John MacTavish had offered himself to your service he had been a reckless teen, already an expert at spilling blood. You were no Silvanus, only a simple forest spirit with your own forest to tend and a handful of followers amongst the bordering villages mainly made up of the hunters and foragers who benefited from your kindness. 

“I will pledge myself tae ye for 10 years forest spirit” the young man had called out in the midst of the trees, “and in return I ask that once my service is complete ye reveal yourself tae me.”

It was a strange offer. You had never had anyone pledge themselves to you before. People left offerings certainly, made small shrines, but you had never had a sworn protector. A Druid, you thought, you could make him a Druid. You could finally test what your magic could really do.

Human lives were such short things that you didn't fully believe he would complete the 10 years. The life of a Druid was solitary and hard. He took to it with a violent fury that took your breath away. Never before had the soil been so sustained on the blood of those who sought to plunder its treasures without the proper respect. Every boon afforded him, John took and wielded as if born to hold such power. 

He was magnificent. Bear like in his strength, wolf like in his ferocity, fox like in his cleverness. And all too soon the 10 years was up. You had made a deal and would have to hold to it if you wanted to keep him. And you did want to keep him. The thought of your Druid leaving your forest made the flowers wilt around you.

He strode into your Grove, a man now. He was broad and full of scars proving his devotion to your protection, his hair shaved in at the sides but left long in the middle with braids shot through. You were fascinated by how strong he had become, muscles functional and snuggled under a layer of fat as proof of your care for him, tartan fabric held to his body with only clever pleating and a belt. 

“I have served faithfully for 10 years as was promised, I’ve come tae collect what I’m due.”

“And I hope in those 10 years you have enjoyed my patronage.”

He turned to see you, an ethereal thing made flesh for him. Fucking finally. He strode forward as your fond, soft smile turned to a look of fear, his hand bunching up in your hair and yanking you to look at him. You found that when you tried to shift to another form his magic, the magic you had given him, was weaving through yours to try and block you. The thought that you would be as helpless as some human maiden was horrifying.

“If ye had any sense at all, ye wouldnae have given me all yer power. Did ye really think I’d serve ye for ten years just tae look at ye?” he spat, venomous and unlike the Druid that had spoken worship on the wind to you all this time. “Fucked plenty of virgins in yer wee forest right under yer nose, had them gagging and crying, but none of them have satisfied what it is I really wanted. Been thinking about your tight wee nymph cunt being good and broken on my cock since I could use it, and I am a very patient man when it comes tae the things I want.”

You glowered at him, feeling your magic slide against the wall he had built and glancing off. He grinned an awful beastly grin and threw you to the floor, the slam of your knees on dirt unfamiliar and unpleasant. 

“You cannot do this. Please John, see reason. You are a protector of this place!”

He laughed and circled you, putting a boot firmly to the centre of your back and kicking you down so your face landed in the soil.

“Aye, I was until today. 10 years was the agreement, and now I take payment. Arse up, present properly for yer protector, least ye could do after all this time.”

He surely couldn’t mean to mount you like some beast. The idea that he meant to violate you at all was already unthinkable, but to do it in such a violent and debased manner was unforgivable. 

“You will not do this!”

You flared your power and he shoved it back, forcing it to act against you. He controlled it, the sickening pulse of your own magic being twisted as your body cracked and shifted. It was wrong, some half shift that felt unnatural. You heard the tear of the thin gossamer gown draped over you as something ripped through it. He laughed meanly and you howled in pain as you were grabbed by what you realised was a tail to force your hips up for him. He had done a disgusting thing with your magic, keeping you in your human form with the tail of your wolf form purely to torture you. It was forbidden to do such a thing, to create some new creature outside of nature in any way. You could feel hot tears spilling over as he wrapped the tail around his fist, pulling and twisting horribly. 

“Ye going tae behave? Or dae ye need to find out what I can dae to my own form?”

The implication was horrible. You scrambled with a sob, bracing your knees and moving yourself to present the way he wanted you to. 

“Aww, dinnae want a nice knot?” he said as he leaned over you, pressing his body to yours so his hot, wet breath was panting in your ear. “Maybe ye’d prefer something else.”

His foul magic invaded you again and you could see how your nails sharpened. Your hand barely started to shift into the paw of a snow leopard and you immediately started to plead. If he fucked you using that kind of cock you would surely be torn to shreds.

“P-please! Your cock! Just yours John, I want it.”

“Aye? I dinnae ken if I’m convinced. Maybe it’d be good to get my barbs in ye, fuck you bloody.”

“No please, it… it wouldn’t fill me properly if it wasn’t your human form. Wouldn’t be able to breed me like I want. Please fuck me with your cock John, I want it so badly” you sobbed, bile rising at your own words.

He laughed in dark delight, the hand gripping painfully at your tail letting go to plunge two fingers into you. It felt like you were being penetrated with a hot poker with how little warning he had given. You choked through breaths as your shape twisted back to yourself, tail painfully deforming and the formation of paws reversing. 

“Good thing yer body is backing ye up. So fucking wet and messy already little slut, knew ye’d be drooling for my cock.”

He noticed how you were taking shuddering breaths, clearly fixating on a spot in the distance to try and dissociate. That wouldn’t do at all and he ripped apart what was left of the thin gossamer so he could bring his open palm hard to the meat of your ass. He knew by how you squealed that nobody had ever taken a hand to you before and it was delicious.

Breaking you was all he had ever wanted, it was all he thought about when his cock was deep inside some new needy cunt or tight arse or wet mouth. He hated how after they would try to keep him as if he was something to be owned by anyone else. He had lost count of the lives he had taken from losing his temper over it. But now that he had you crying in the dirt, pussy throbbing around his fingers, he wanted to savour it. 

Your nails clawed at the ground and you tried to get onto your hands and crawl forward when his fingers left you and instead he buried his head between your legs. His grip on your thighs was painfully tight, yanking you right back into position with your arms collapsing back under you, face down ass up. 

It was too much, his tongue was wet and squirming and hot and inside you. He meant to devour you, to ruin you entirely. You had about braced to be fucked, but not for this, not for the intense spark of heady desire that came from this. 

“Fuckin’ knew it, knew ye’d taste sweeter than anything else” he growled against you as he released one thigh to get his fingers on your clit, needing to get you wetter to sait the thirst for your arousal that was burning through him now. “Dae ye taste good everywhere?”

“J-John! Ah you can’t, not there” you babbled as he licked up to your rim, diving into it with the same enthusiasm as he had your pussy. 

It was disgusting how he tongued up the slick that was weeping from your cunt to drag it to your ass, plunging his tongue in and out of your hole and driving you absolutely mad. This was debauched. The trees were creaking and groaning around you, powerless to help their mistress.

“Tell me ye fucking love it.”

“Stop, please!”

“Fucking say it” he growled, sinking his teeth into the same flesh he had slapped earlier. 

You screamed, sure he must have used that horrid magic again to sharpen his teeth to that of a predator with how you felt the skin break, his tongue lapping at the trickle of blood he had earned himself. 

“I love it” you said quietly, ashamed.

“Use your fucking words.”

The threat of his teeth was still there, they were scraping against your clit.

“I love your tongue in my ass! It’s perfect, thank you so much, making me so w- making me so wet” you moaned out, feeling your cunt clench with the shame of knowing it wasn’t quite a lie.

“Good girl” he purred, the praise vibrating through you. “Should reward ye naw? What dae ye want?”

There was a dark warning laced in his tone. You knew there was a wrong answer and you wouldn’t dare to give it. If you pleaded for a stop to this he would do much worse to you than if you pleaded for the less painful option.

“Want to cum on your mouth, want to cum on your cock in my pussy.”

“Mm? Whose mouth? Whose cock?”

You squeezed your eyes shut against the utter humiliation this human was making you face.

“Yours… master.”

“Atta girl.”

He laughed behind you before bringing that sinful mouth to latch onto your clit. He sucked hard and then lapped at it like a beast until you were squirming only to then go to your opening and make sure he got every drop of sweet liquid drooling out of you. It was torturous as your body betrayed you over and over again, pliant and gushing for him. He kept you on the edge of euphoria for what felt like hours before you broke.

“Fuck! Please master, want to cum!” 

The panting moans were brainless, you were so desperate. He cooed at you, his tone saccharine even as his words were degrading.

“Needy wee slut, cannae keep your legs closed can ye? Disgusting bitch tae let a man do this tae ye. Bet ye dream of walking into the village and letting everyone have a go at this sloppy cunt.”

“Only you master, please please please!”

“Aye, only me.”

His tongue which had been wild before was now lethally precise, the tip of it flicking rapidly at your throbbing clit. As you felt yourself crest he wrenched one of your arms to put your own hand there while he removed his face. Out of some hedonistic instinct you started to play with yourself to make the orgasm last, so stupid from the pleasure that it took a moment for the pain to sink in as his cock was forced inside you to the hilt.

Johnny was in rapture. Forcing himself in while your poor cunt was fluttering and clenching on nothing was almost painful from how tightly his cock was being squeezed. Your body was panicked, pleasure and pain at their height at the same time making you so incredibly tight and hot for him. Fuck, the way you were pulsing around him it was almost like getting a blow job, the ripple of wet pressure making him howl out his pleasure against your screech of pain.

He had already so thoroughly broken you that when he started to fuck you at a brutal pace you just drooled and cried and babbled. The distinction between pain and pleasure, what you hated and what you loved, was completely erased. It was all the same liquid heat inside of you that was demanding this. Demanding for you to be fucked savagley into the dirt, for you to take everything he had to give you. Demanding to be bred like the bitch in heat you were.

“I ken sweetheart, ye need tae earn it. Cum around my cock again.”

You didn’t even know what you were saying out loud and what thoughts were your own anymore as your clumsy fingers slipped around on your clit, trying to create friction despite the smooth glide from how much you dripped with arousal. You could feel the stickiness on your fingers, feel tendrils stretching lewdly in a connecting strand whenever you moved them away from your skin.

“Fucking dae it, cum on my cock!” 

It was a lightning storm of pain versus pleasure ripping through you as he adjusted to slam into that spongy spot inside you that set off every nerve ending over and over with no reprieve. At the same time he began to absolutely brutalise your ass with his open palms, violent and unrestrained. There was a gush of liquid as you came, screaming your throat raw.

John had never felt so powerful. You had been reduced to a squirting, screaming mess underneath him, a fucking animal begging in the dirt. He handled you how he liked, went as hard as he wanted. Any human would have broken. Any human would have fucking died with how he finally unleashed the beast inside of him, finally married violence with sex the way he had always wanted. 

“That’s it, fucking daft bitch, stupid wee brood mare, made tae fucking take it!”

You were begging again, nothing left in your brain but the desperation to be bred by a strong male. He was happy to do it, loyal protector that he was. Happy to give you exactly what you whined and mewled for, slamming home and cumming deep inside you. He fucked you through his own orgasm. He fucked you even when it was painful. It wasn’t until his cock finally slipped out, spent and struggling to find any purchase when he wasn’t fully engorged given how fucking sloppy you were.

He pushed you away after, leaving you a pile on the floor panting and ruined. Sitting back on his heels he had to take a moment for the dizziness from what had just happened to subside. Time for him to get out of this forest he supposed. He was not welcome on this land anymore. As he stood he took stock. While his kilt simply draped again to cover the sticky mess you had left on his skin and the dirt on his knees was easy enough to dust off, your gown was torn to shreds, your body beaten and bruised. He was perhaps a little surprised when your eyes opened and you blinked at him.

You felt the delicious strain of the most satisfying fuck of your life, only opening your eyes when you heard him get to his feet. Oh, he thought he was leaving. His eyes lit up with confusion and a tiny spark of feral delight as vines erupted from the ground to ensnare his ankle. Silly boy, thinking you powerless. If you had truly imbued him with the amount of your power he had deluded himself that you had, his human body would have burnt up and been dust on the wind years ago. It was laughable that he would have been able to block your magic.

“Did you truly think I didn't know your intentions from the start? Oh John, you are mine” you said with the fond bemusement one might have for a grumpy child. “Now come and perform your duty to your mistress, I am hardly done with you.”

#mhairiwrites #cod au #john mactavish x reader #look I wrote this all and read it once #and I'm not even sure it makes sense #really the voices wrote this one and I cannot be blamed

[journeytothewestresearch]

I've heard the idea that Monkey is 7 times immortal thrown around a couple times, but my count has only ever gone up to 4 (the peaches, the pills, the wine, and his daoist studies). How immortal IS Monkey?

I count at least six levels of immortality.

1) Daoist Longevity Arts - Ch. 2

I discuss the exact methods here.

A photomanipulation by me.

2) Erasing Allotted Lifespan - Ch. 3

[After Monkey is summoned to hell in his sleep and thereafter threatens to beat the Judges of Hell for their mistake] The Ten Kings immediately had the judge in charge of the records bring out his [Sun's] books for examination. The judge, who did not dare tarry, hastened into a side room and brought out five or six books of documents and the ledgers on the tens species of living beings ... He [Monkey] had, therefore, a separate ledger, which Wukong examined himself.  Under the heading "Soul 1350" he found the name Sun Wukong recorded, with the description: "Heaven-born Stone Monkey. Age: three hundred and forty-two years. A good end." Wukong said, "I really don't remember my age. All I want is to erase my name. Bring me a brush." The judge hurriedly fetched the brush and soaked it in heavy ink. Wukong took the ledger on monkeys and crossed out all the names he could find in it. Throwing down the ledger, he said, "That ends the account! That ends the account! Now I'm truly not your subject" (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 140-141).

A print from the Japanese children book Son Goku (1939).

3) Immortal Peaches - Ch. 5

[After being appointed the guardian of the Queen Mother of the West's immortal peach groves] The Great Sage ... asked the local spirit, "How many trees are there?" "There are three thousand six hundred," said the local spirit. "In the front are one thousand two hundred trees with little flowers and small fruits. These ripen once every three thousand years, and after one taste of them a man will become an immortal enlightened in the Way, with healthy limbs and a lightweight body. In the middle are one thousand two hundred trees of layered flowers and sweet fruits. They ripen once every six thousand years. If a man eats them, he will ascend to Heaven with the mist and never grow old. At the back are one thousand two hundred trees with fruits of purple veins and pale yellow pits. These ripen once every nine thousand years and, if eaten, will make a man's age equal to that of Heaven and Earth, the sun and the moon..." One day he [Monkey] saw that more than half of the peaches on the branches of the older trees had ripened, and he wanted very much to eat one and sample its novel taste. Closely followed, however, by the local spirit of the garden, the stewards, and the divine attendants of the Equal to Heaven Residence, he found it inconvenient to do so. He therefore devised a plan on the spur of the moment and said to them, "Why don't you all wait for me outside and let me rest a while in this arbor?" The various immortals withdrew accordingly. That Monkey King then took off his cap and robe and climbed up into a big tree. He selected the large peaches that were thoroughly ripened and, plucking many of them, ate to his heart's content right on the branches. Only after he had his fill did he jump down from the tree. Pinning back his cap and donning his robe, he called for his train of followers to return to the residence. After two or three days, he used the same device to steal peaches to gratify himself once again One day the Lady Queen Mother decided to open wide her treasure chamber and to give a banquet for the Grand Festival of Immortal Peaches, which was to be held in the Palace of the Jasper Pool. She ordered the various Immortal Maidens ... to go with their flower baskets to the Garden of Immortal Peaches and pick the fruits for the festival ... [After meeting with the Great Sage's ministers] The local spirit went into the garden with them; they found their way to the arbor but saw no one. Only the cap and the robe were left in the arbor, but there was no person to be seen. The Great Sage, you see, had played for a while and eaten a number of peaches. He had then changed himself into a figure only two inches high and, perching on the branch of a large tree, had fallen asleep under the cover of thick leaves (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 161-162).

A new years print found online.

4) Immortal Wine - Ch. 5

Our Great Sage could not make an end of staring at the scene [the heavenly feast set for the Immortal Peach Banquet] when he suddenly felt the overpowering aroma of wine ... standing beside the jars and leaning on the barrels, he abandoned himself to drinking. After feasting for a long, he became thoroughly drunk... [...] [After returning to Flower Fruit Mountain and meeting with his children, he says] "When I was enjoying myself this morning at the Jasper Pool, I saw many jars and jugs in the corridor full of the juices of jade [yuye qiongjiang, 玉液瓊漿; lit: "Jade liquid and jade syrup"], which you have never savored. Let me go back [to heaven] and steal a few bottles to bring down here. Just drink half a cup, and each of you will live longer without growing old" ... He took two large bottles, one under each arm, and carried two more in his hands. Reversing the direction of his cloud, he returned to the monkeys in the cave. They held their own Festival of Immortal Wine [Xianjiu hui, 仙酒會], with each one drinking a few cups" (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 165 and 167).

A screenshot from the 1986 Journey to the West TV show.

5) Immortal Elixir - Ch. 5

[After Sun Wukong drunkenly stumbles into Laozi's laboratory in the Tushita Heaven] He found no one but saw fire burning in an oven beside the hearth, and around the oven were five gourds in which finished elixir was stored. "This thing is the greatest treasure of immortals," said the Great Sage happily. "Since old Monkey has understood the Way and comprehended the mystery of the Internal's identity with the External, I have also wanted to produce some golden elixir on my own to benefit people. While I have been too busy at other times even to think about going home to enjoy myself, good fortune has met me at the door today and presented me with this! As long as Laozi is not around, I'll take a few tablets and try the taste of something new." He poured out the contents of all the gourds and ate them like fried beans (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 166).

A detail from the 1835 Japanese translation of Journey to the West.

6) Ginseng Tree Fruit - Ch. 24

In the mountain there was a Daoist Abbey called the Five Villages Abbey [Wu zhuang guan, 五莊觀]; it was the abode of an immortal whose Daoist style [name] was Master Shenyuan [Shenyuan zi, 鎮元子] and whose nickname was Lord, Equal to Earth [Shi tong jun, 世同君]. There was, moreover, a strange treasure grown in this temple, a spiritual root that was formed just after chaos had been parted and the nebula had been established prior to the division of Heave and Earth. Throughout the four great continents of the world, it could be found in only the Five Villages Abbey in the West Aparagodaniya Continent. This treasure was called grass of the reverted cinnabar [cao huan dan, 草還丹], or the ginseng fruit [renshen guo, 人參果]. It took three thousand years for the plant to bloom, another three thousand years to bear fruit, and still another three thousand years before they ripened. All in all, it would be nearly ten thousand years before they could be eaten, and even after such a long time, there would be only thirty such fruits. The shape of the fruit was exactly that of a newborn infant not yet three days old, complete with the four limbs and the five senses. If a man had the good fortune of even smelling the fruit, he would live for three hundred and sixty years; if he ate one he would reach his forty-seven thousandth year. [After Wukong learns the complicated method of harvesting the fruit] Parting the leaves and branches, he knocked three of the fruits into the sack ... The three of them [Monkey and his brothers] took the fruits and began to enjoy them (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 453 and 462-463).

Monkey holding ginseng tree fruit. Image found online.

This previous article talks about the history of this magical fruit.

An important note

Sun Wukong is not really immortal, just long-lived and hard to kill. Immortality in Ming to Qing-era popular literature means that you can live for a long time but still die if injured badly enough. Think of it like an infinitely long candle being blown out instead of having a chance to burn for centuries or eons. For example, Investiture of the Gods (Fengshen yanyi, 封神演義, c. 1620), a sort of prequel to Journey to the West, is full of immortals killed in battle with heavenly weapons. Some even have their immortality sapped away before dying in one of many celestial traps. The biggest of these traps is the "Ten Thousand Immortal Array" (Wanxian zhen, 萬仙陣), so named because it can apparently kill myriad transcendents.

I commonly suggest that Monkey's levels of immortality just make him more durable than your average celestial.

Source:

Wu, C., & Yu, A. C. (2012). The Journey to the West (Vols. 1-4) (Rev. ed.). Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press.

#sun wukong #monkey king #journey to the west #Chinese immortal #immortality #Chinese literature #Daoism #Taoism #Buddhism #fengshen yanyi #elixir #lego monkie kid #LMK

[allarica]

"O warlike Pallas Athena, whose illustrious kind, ineffable, and effable we find : magnanimous and famed, the rocky height, and groves, and shady mountains thee delight: in arms rejoicing, who with furies dire and wild the souls of mortals dost inspire. Athletic maiden of terrific mind, dire Gorgon's bane, unmarried, blessed, kind: mother of arts, impetuous; understood as fury by the bad, but wisdom by the good."

Part 5/? of Allarica’s Greek Gods

Commissions are open! || Support me on Patreon

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#athena #annabeth chase #percy jackson #greek mythology #greek myth #allaricasworks #agg #riordanverse

[sangoziethesimp]

Naughty fox | YAE MIKO X FEM READER

MEN and MINORS DNI

Your girlfriend, Yae Miko doing her usual thing but you came to the shrine. You just wanted to visit the pretty lady, now why are you sweating and panting? Why is there also a fox chasing you? Oh well.

In the serene village of Inazuma, where ancient traditions harmonized with the tranquility of nature, stood the sacred shrine presided over by the esteemed Yae Miko. The day unfolded with the sun casting a warm embrace upon the landscape, its gentle rays painting a golden sheen upon the intricate wooden structures that adorned the shrine grounds. Yae Miko, draped in her ceremonial attire, moved with an ethereal grace, her serene countenance illuminated by a mischievous glint in her eyes as she observed the arrival of Y/N, her beloved and spirited partner whose presence often infused the village with a vibrant energy.

The shrine maiden’s heart stirred with the desire for playful diversion amidst the tranquility that enveloped Inazuma. With a playful yet cunning spirit akin to that of a fox, Yae Miko decided to weave a bit of mischief into the otherwise serene day, eager to engage in a playful escapade with her beloved.

Her nimble fingers traced invisible patterns as she invoked her innate powers, transforming seamlessly into her enchanting fox form. Her fur shimmered in the dappling sunlight, a radiant display of russet and gold as she stealthily trailed Y/N. The soft padding of her tiny paws against the earth echoed the whispering breeze, her movements as nimble and graceful as the woodland creatures she emulated. Unbeknownst to Y/N, the shrine maiden was now the epitome of a playful fox, reveling in the anticipation of her impromptu prank on her beloved.

Y/N, caught up in the serene beauty of the village, strolled through the tranquil paths, enchanted by the tranquility of Inazuma’s natural beauty. It was amidst this idyllic scene that Yae Miko, in her fox form, saw the perfect opportunity for mischief. With a swift motion, she approached Y/N and lightly nipped at her ankle, a mischievous glint dancing in her fox-like eyes.

"What in the world...?" Y/N gasped, her surprise evident as she spun around in search of the unseen prankster.

Giggling softly in her fox form, Yae Miko continued her playful pursuit, darting among the foliage, occasionally brushing against Y/N or causing a cascade of leaves to flutter around her. Y/N's laughter filled the tranquil groves, a symphony that harmonized with the playful chuckles of the mischievous fox.

"Alright, who's playing tricks with me?" Y/N laughed, thoroughly enjoying the mysterious interplay of amusement in the serene setting.

The spirited chase persisted, Yae Miko embodying the playful nature of a fox while Y/N reveled in the unexpected joy of the impromptu game. With each playful interaction, Y/N's laughter echoed through the serene groves, blending seamlessly with the rustling leaves and the soft padding of Yae Miko's fox-like steps.

As the playful pursuit continued, Yae Miko relished the spirited joy of her fox-like nature, cherishing every moment spent in the company of her beloved. Each fleeting moment of mischief woven into the tranquility of Inazuma felt like a delightful interlude in the tapestry of their day.

After a sequence of delightful moments, unable to contain her laughter any longer, Yae Miko transformed back into her elegant human form, revealing herself to the astonished yet amused Y/N.

"Surprise, it was me all along," Yae Miko announced with a delighted grin, her fox-like personality shining through her mischievous gaze.

Y/N blinked in astonishment before bursting into laughter. "Yae Miko, you sly fox! That was clever!"

"I couldn't resist a bit of playful fun," Yae Miko confessed, her laughter resonating with the spirited joy of her fox-like nature.

Their bond grew even stronger from that day forward, marked by the memory of a mischievous prank that led to an enduring romance, their laughter echoing through the tranquil groves of Inazuma, a testament to the delightful whimsy of their shared adventure as loving partners.

As the day progressed, the routine chores seemed to wane in excitement for the mischievous shrine maiden. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she noticed the arrival of Y/N, an adventurous soul whose presence never failed to bring a sense of joy to the tranquil village.

"Time for a little fun," Yae Miko whispered to herself, her thoughts already brimming with playful schemes.

Embracing her innate ability, Yae Miko transformed into her diminutive and enchanting fox form, her fur shimmering in the dappling sunlight. With silent steps, she stealthily trailed Y/N, the fox's paws navigating the verdant paths with an almost ethereal grace. Y/N, completely unaware of Yae Miko's transformative powers, wandered through the tranquil groves, admiring the beauty of the landscape.

Seizing the opportune moment, Yae Miko, in her fox form, approached Y/N and, with a playful glint in her eyes, lightly nipped at Y/N's ankle, eliciting a surprised yelp from the unsuspecting adventurer.

"What in the world?" Y/N exclaimed, turning around in search of the unseen culprit.

Giggling softly, Yae Miko continued her playful pursuit, darting between bushes, occasionally rustling leaves, or lightly tugging at the hem of Y/N's clothing. The playful antics continued, accompanied by Y/N's infectious laughter echoing through the tranquil groves.

"Who's playing tricks on me?" Y/N chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the mystery and unexpected amusement.

The mischievous chase continued, the playful fox relishing every moment of the impromptu game, while Y/N found delight in the thrill of the unexpected mischief.

Finally, unable to contain her laughter any longer, Yae Miko transformed back into her ethereal human form, revealing herself to the bewildered yet amused Y/N.

"Surprise, it was me all along," Yae Miko declared, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Y/N's eyes widened in astonishment before erupting into joyful laughter. "Yae Miko, you sneaky fox! I had no idea!"

"I couldn't resist a bit of playful fun," Yae Miko confessed with a warm smile, relishing in the shared joy between them.

From that day forward, the bond between Yae Miko and Y/N flourished, marked by the memory of a mischievous prank that led to an enduring friendship, their laughter echoing through the tranquil groves of Inazuma.

#sangowrites #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin yae #yae miko x reader #yae miko x you #yae miko x y/n #yae miko #fluff #genshin fluff #genshin inazuma

[bump1nthen1ght]

Worship of a Maiden (F!Reader x M!Satyr)

Pairing: Fem!SoftDom!Reader x Sub!Male!Satyr

Genre: Established Relationship, Domestic, Fluffy Smut

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1361 words

Summary: Your lover does so much for his community, holds so much weight on his shoulders. It only makes sense that you’d take that weight off once in a while

Request: Hi there! I wanted to make a request for a soft femdom reader x male satyr please, if you're interested. Featuring praise, using his horns as handles during cunnilingus, and a titjob as a reward for pussy well ate. Thank you for your time.

On a long day of doing nothing, nothing hots better than an afternoon nap.Especially in your grove, where the sun hits it perfectly at its peak, warm yet not oppressive between the overbrush. The grass feels like a heated quilt against your back, the sound of fresh water trickling from the stream nearby.

You were only asleep for 40 minutes, just letting your eyes rest for a moment in peace. You’re half-awake when Lyterius starts kissing your neck, his stubble scratching against your jaw.

“Hello Handsome.” You yawn, arms stretching as your back arches. Lyterius doesn’t answer, instead nuzzling his neck into the gap of your shoulder and neck. Your hands find their place in his thick curls, rubbing gently into his scalp. “How is everybody?”

Lyterius groans, nuzzling deeper into your neck.

“The council still giving you trouble?”

Calling them a ‘council’ is a bit of a stretch, as the gathering of satyrs is more like a town-hall, with no official leaders or strict procedure, and a lot more wine and drugs.

Lyterius, as one of the older satyrs, often had to wrangle everyone together, make sure that the satyr's connection with nature and Pan was still flourishing. That the young ones weren’t getting too rowdy and forgetting their duties to the forest.

It was a heavy duty for a man who’d much rather be fishing and playing his banjo, a burden that wore him down.

You don't need a direct answer from Lyterius to know he was stressed, that he needs someone else to take the reins for a bit.

Your hands knot tighter into his hair, and kiss his cheek with force. He becomes like honey in your hands.

“Please…” Lyterius moans, “Let me taste you, mistress.”

“Such a polite boy you are.” You kiss the corners of his lips, pulling away as he chases you for more. He likes the chase, the temptation, even if he whines like a brat sometimes..

You shimmy backward on the grass, letting your legs spread and your linen dress fall to the side. Your pussy is bare, already beginning to slicken from Lyterius’s debaucherous gaze.

“Come here, baby. Serve your mistress.”

Lyterius falls to his stomach like a devout man of prayer, scrambling to slot himself between your thighs. His short tail begins to twitch and wag behind him, his calloused hands groping up your ass.

You let your head fall back to the grass as Lyterius takes a whiff of your heated sex, his body trembling as his tongue flickers out of his mouth. His first licks against your lips are soft, too soft. Your hands wrap around the edges of his curled horns and yank him closer to your cunt. A throaty moan vibrates your pussy lips.

“That’s it, dearest. Eat me properly.”

Lyrerius throws himself into his work, drinking your slick like it's an oasis. He licks a long, flat stripe against your clit, groaning as your legs clench around his pointed ears. He sucks on the nub like it's a fresh nectarine, soaking up your contented moans and the taste of your cunt.

By now you’re practically dripping, Lyterius diving head first into your walls with a strong thrust of his tongue. It undulates and pushes, trying to find the most sensitive area. His nose grinds against your clit, and you yank his horns back and forth so it rubs it just the right away.

Your core flexes as your head throws upwards, mouth open lewdly as you watch Lyterius please you.

“Good boy.” You purr, hands rubbing the base of his horns, one of his most sensitive areas. “You always know how to please me, baby. I’d think you were a priest of Eros himself from the you worship me.”

You can see Lyterius eyes rolling backwards from behind his eyelids, a pleasant shiver running down his spine. Another soft spot of his is your sultyr voice in his ear, whispering praises.

His tongue finds it was to your g-spot, thrusting and fucking it with fervor. You bite your lip, using your grip to hump against his jaw.

“F-fuck, that tongue.” You arch your chest, pushing your tits together. “You were made for this, made to be between my legs, to be my baby.”

Lyterius groans into your pussy, his brow furrowing. You notice the movement behind, the way he’s begun humping into the grass. He won't come without your permission, but the friction must be tortuous.

“I’m gonna cum.” You pant, chest heaving. Your hands yank more on his horns, slick bursting into his mouth. Lyterius doesn’t slow down, letting you rice out till completeion. “Fuck, Fuck!”

Your pussy spasms around his tongue, legs wrapping him in a chokehold as your body shakes from the orgasm, Lyterius still licking like a good boy. It's only with a push of your hands that he detaches, trails of your slick spatter around his jaw, his tongue stuck out like a dog.

You take a few seconds to recover, Lyterius pressing hot kisses into your inner thighs as your high slowly fades into embers. Your gaze lazily sweeps down to your lover, whose attention you catch with a pat on his head.

“You’ve been such a good pet, I think you deserve a reward.” Lyterius eyes light up at the word, arms trembling as you pat your chest. He scrambles up eagerly, but he is gentle as he sits in your sternum, trying not to be disobedient despite his growing impatience. His cock theaps against your chest, flushed with blood and leaking precum.

“T-thank you, mistress.” Lyterius pants, sweat and your juices beading his neck. He worries his lips between his teeth as you press your tits together around his shaft, the tip poking out near your jaw. “Thank you.” He grits, hips trembling with forced stillness.

“You may move, pet. This is for you.”

Lyterius wastes no time, planting his hoofs into the grass and gripping onto the side of your tits. His hands envelop yours, and his furry torso begins to humo into your breasts' warm embrace.

“Oh, gods yes.” Lyterius moans, his cock sliding wasily between your tits, aided by your sweat and his precum. “Your tits are incredible, mistress.”

You simply nod, more focused instead on the head of his cock, still dripping and only inches from your mouth. You’re feeling extra generous, and stick out your tongue so that his cock hits it at the peak of every thrust. His whole body shudders.

“Please, may I come on your face, mistress?” Lyterius’ voice trembles, brain scrambling from your soft tits against his cock. You smirk, tongue pushed out longer as you nod again. Lyterius whimpers with joy. “Thank you!”

His thrusts are sloppy, desperate in chasing that high from earlier. The taste of salty cum dabs on your tongue and you can feel him getting closer with each thrust. Heavy balls slap against your under-boob, tight and full of cum. Satyr’s always cum buckets, even with their near limitless stamina, and your pussy throbs at the thought of being covered in it.

“Thank you, th-thank you!” Lyterius yelps as his hips stutter and shake, his cock pulsing as a hot jet of cum flies across your tongue, almost reaching the back of your throat. You just keep smiling, feeling ropes and ropes of cum flood your neck, lips, and cheeks. Lyterius hooves dig grooves into the ground as he rides the crashing wave, falling to the side when he’s finally finished.

—

He pants into the grass, enjoying the lingering dew on his sweaty back and neck as Lyrerius falls to the side. He heats a faint giggle near him, the warm hand of his love patting his cheek. She grabs a handful of water and splashes it over her face and neck, washing herself and her hands before she grabs another and gestures it towards his mouth.

“Drink, my love.”

Water trickles out of the side of his mouth as he sips, barely able to lift his head off the ground. She chuckled again, then slides into his side. She traces circles into his chest.

Truly, what a wonderful maiden he worships.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #monster romance #female reader insert #satyrs

[heyitspizzaking]

Maiden of the Grove

#artwork #alex rhys #fan art #fanart #guilty gear #guilty gear xrd #dizzy guilty gear #dizzy gg

[roboticart]

ONE DAWN / BLOOD OF JUNO / THE KEY / MAIDEN OF THE GROVE

#guilty gear #guilty gear dizzy #dizzy kiske #dizzy guilty gear #guilty gear xrd #guilty gear undine #guilty gear necro #blood #christianity

[yoga-onion]

Legends and myths about trees

Forest myths, Estonian traditional beliefs (4)

The world of the Estonians’ ancestors – Mythical motifs in Estonian runic songs

The Estonian literary mythology describes the following pantheon: The supreme god, the god of all living things, is Taara (variations of the name include Tooru, Tharapita and Tarapitha), also known as Uku or Jumal, is a prominent god in Estonian mythology, with a strong resemblance to the Finnish Ukko and the Germanic Thor. He is celebrated in sacred oak forests around Tartu. The god of thunder is Uku. Uku's daughters are Linda and Jutta, the queen of the birds. Uku has two sons: Kõu (Thunder) and Pikker (Lightning). Pikker possesses a powerful musical instrument, which makes demons tremble and flee. He has a naughty daughter, Ilmatütar (Weather Maiden).

Estonian legends about giants (Kalevipoeg, Suur Tõll, Leiger) may be a reflection of Germanic (especially Scandinavian) influences. Giants themselves in some stories stood as protectors against such Germanic influences, such as invasion. There are numerous legends interpreting various natural objects and features as traces of Kalevipoeg's deeds. The giant has merged with Christian Devil, giving birth to a new character – Vanapagan (a cunning demon living on his farm or manor) and his farm hand Kaval-Ants ("Crafty Hans").

Other mythical motifs from Estonian runic songs:

a mighty oak grows into the sky, is then felled and turned into various mythical objects

Sun, Moon and Star are the suitors of a young maiden, she finally accepts the Star

a crafty blacksmith forges a woman of gold but is not able to give her a soul or a mind

a holy grove starts to wither after having been desecrated by a love-making couple; only sacrificing nine brothers cleanses it

mighty heroes are not able to kill a terrible giant ox, but a little brother is

a woman is forced to kill her daughter who then goes to live in the heaven as the Air Maiden

a girl finds a fish and asks her brother to kill it – there is a woman inside the fish

young girls go out at night and young men from the holy grove (or the land of the dead) seduce them by offering them riches

a lake travels to another place when it has been desecrated by an inconsiderate woman or an incestuous couple

木にまつわる伝説・神話

森の神話・エストニアの民間伝承 (4)

エストニア人の祖先の世界 〜 ルーン文字の歌詞に見られる神話のモチーフ

エストニアの文学的神話には、次のようなパンテオンが描かれている: すべての生きとし生けるものの神である最高神はタアラであり、タルトゥ周辺の神聖なオークの森で祭られている。タアラ（トオル、タラピタなどの異称がある）は、ウクまたはユマルとも呼ばれるエストニア神話の著名な神で、フィンランドのウッコやゲルマン民族のトールに類似している。タルトゥ周辺の神聖なオークの森で祭られている。ウクの娘はリンダと鳥の女王ユッタ。ウクには2人の息子がいる： コオウ（雷）とピッカー（稲妻）である。ピッカーは強力な楽器を持っており、悪魔を震え上がらせて逃走させる。彼にはいたずらっ子の娘イルマチュタル（天気の乙女）がいる。

巨人（ｶﾚｳﾞｨﾎﾟｴｸﾞ、ｽｵﾄｰﾙ、ﾚｲｶﾞｰ）に関するエストニアの伝説は、ゲルマン人（特にスカンジナビア人）の影響を反映したものかもしれない。巨人そのものが、侵略などのゲルマン人の影響から身を守る存在であったという話もある。様々な自然物や特徴をカレヴィポエグの行いの痕跡と解釈する伝説が数多くある。この巨人はキリスト教の悪魔と融合し、ヴァナパガン（彼の農場や荘園に住む狡猾な悪魔）と彼の農夫カヴァル＝アンツ（「狡猾なハンス」）という新しいキャラクターを生み出した。

エストニアのルーン文字の歌詞には、他にも神話的なモチーフがある：

樫の木が空に向かって伸び、伐採され、さまざまな神話上のオブジェに変わる。

太陽、月、星は��い乙女の求婚者��あり、彼女は最終的に星を受け入れた。

狡猾な鍛冶屋が金の女を拵えたが、彼女に魂や心を与えることはできなかった。

聖なる木立が、愛し合うカップルによって冒涜された後、枯れ始めるが、9人の兄弟を生贄にすれば浄化される。

強大な英雄は恐ろしい巨大な牛を殺すことができないが、弟は殺すことができる。

ある女性が自分の娘を殺さざるを得なくなり、その娘は天界で空気の乙女として生きることになる。

少女が魚を見つけ、兄に殺してくれるよう頼む - その魚の中に女がいる。

若い娘が夜に外出すると、聖なる木立（または死者の国）から来た若い男たちが金持ちを差し出して誘惑する。

軽率な女や近親相姦のカップルによって冒涜された湖は、別の場所に移動する。

#trees #tree myths #tree legend #folklore #legend #mythology #estonian mythology #runic songs #estonian mythic motifs #forest #nature #art

[chrissabug]

In the nearby grove of trees rests a sleeping maiden amidst the grass and leaves 

Every month I make a tutorial, videos and release tons of art goodies on my Patreon. When you join you gain access to the whole archive of tutorials (nearly 50!), 18 past advice articles, challenges, plus over 100 artwork rewards including process videos, steps, layered files, sketches, and linearts. All starting at just $5.

Thank you for all of your support! It allows me to keep creating and providing art and resources

patreon.com/chrissabug

#digital art #digital painting #fantasy #drawing #goddess #fantasy art #digitalillustration #character design #cottagecore #cottage core #cottage vibes #medievil #princess

[talonabraxas]

The Celtic Tree Zodiac: Find Your Tree Sign in the Celtic Tree Calendar

⛤ The Ogham Grove ⛤

The Ogham Grove is a modern way of working with the Ogham, as both a year wheel and as a sacred circle, or grove; for both solitary rituals and group work within a sacred landscape - and as an internal, astral sanctuary, within one's own mind - one's inner grove.

Whilst the Ogham Grove is a modern way of working with the Ogham, it is actually based upon the oldest known tree sequence attributed to the Ogham; that which was recorded in The Scholar's Primer - which was compiled into the Book of Ballymote circa 1390 AD.

Of course the Ogham may have corresponded with specific trees long before 1390 AD

but there is no earlier evidence. The oldest evidence of the Ogham writing system is that of inscribed pillar-stones; the oldest of which appear to date to the 4th century.

Simply, the Ogham Grove is created by placing the trees of the Ogham, evenly spaced (every 18 degrees), around a circle; when one does this, all manner of meaningful patterns begin to emerge - aligning trees (and their mythological lore) with specific stars, deities, and times of the year. This opens up exciting new fields of research into Celtic studies.

knowledge across arts, music and poetry, as well as science, language, and environment. They understood that human life was a small part of a much larger pattern, and that these rhythms could be worked out by careful observation, and strict adherence to an annual cycle – the Celtic Ogham Wheel of the Year.

​The inner wheel represents the Fibonacci sequence: 1,1,3,5,8,13.

​1 – the single point, the centre of all things

2 – the spiral stirring within the cauldron

3 – the Triskellion, the three maidens attending the cauldron

5 – the Rose, the Queen of every hive

8 – the Fire Festivals

13 – the Ogham lunar sequence

The Outer Wheels depict the current calendar months, the signs of the zodiac, and the full grove of the 20 Ogham trees in their natural order, beginning with Birch.

​THE FIRE FESTIVALS

​The eight Fire Festivals take place at the solstices and equinoxes of the solar year, and help to bring a deeper connectedness and understanding of the world around us and the importance of living in harmony with that world.

​The Festivals are as follows:

Winter Solstice (Yule): 20th December

Imbolc: 1st February

Spring Equinox (Ostara): 19th March

Beltane: 1st May

Summer Solstice (Litha): 21st June

Lughnasadh/Lammas: 1st August

Autumn Equinox (Mabon): 21st September

Samhain: 31st October