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safarigirlsp · 2 years

Text

The Beast

The Beast

Vampire Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: None! Shocking! Some light horror and sexy themes.

AO3 Link

For Halloween, please enjoy this wicked fairytale for Transfusion Tuesday and also writer wednesday based a request from this Edgar Allen Poe prompt list. Notes of Beauty and the Beast, Dracula, and The Raven in my best Poe-ish attempt 🍂🍁🍂

This also continues my Wicked Fairytale Series where I give my own twisted twist to the classics, like Cinderella , A Midsummer Night’s Dream and A Christmas Carol.

For as long as anyone could remember, the castle had loomed from its cliffside perch above the sleepy little town far below. Like a raven, always watching, always waiting, for its prey to wander close enough to be ensnared in its shadows that stretched forth like grasping talons when twilight grew dim. Every night, when the mists swirled like waltzing specters and the chill settled like death’s hand upon the stricken, mothers would tell their children the tale of the Beast that had always lived in the castle.

With windows like nefarious eyes, peaked rooftops like arched eyebrows, spires rising like devilish horns into the sky, and the spiked iron teeth of the courtyard gates, the castle was a being itself. A monstrosity more imposing than any gargoyle watching over a churchyard. If the Beast didn’t ravage any hapless passersby, the castle itself looked eager to devour them whole.

For as long as fairytales had roots, the quiet little village had by horror been haunted. The frigid darkness that swirled through the streets like a wayward horseman’s spirit, lost and forsaken, was as warm as the kiss of a summer breeze compared to the icy black terror the Beast wrought upon those foolish enough to venture forth in the witching hour.

Far wiser than their human masters, animals would never dare encroach upon the accursed castle. Venture too far into the castle woods and horses would buck and bolt and hounds would whine and turn tail. Deer and fox and cheerfully colored songbirds knew they were unwelcome inside the black woods, among the dead trees with branches like demons’ claws, twisting up from Hell. Only the other creatures of darkness and malice, wolves and ravens, kept company with the Beast in his woods and his lair of stone. Man alone, with his mind for reason and penchant for fumbling upon the worst conclusion, hazarded to trespass upon the castle and meet his death at the gruesome hands of the Beast within.

Or so it had always been said. For no man who had made the perilous journey into the darkness of the castle’s shadow had ever returned.

From the topmost window in the highest tower, the Beast watched the foolish mortals go about their trivial fleeting lives below him, nothing more than ants crawling before a god. The Beast watched with loathing untold and seething unmeasured at the trivial humans who lived their fleeting lives with a carefree happiness he would never know. A silent snarl curled his lips at the sight and his tongue would absently trace over the tips of his fangs, thinking, as he often did, of the sweet taste of blood when they tore through frail flesh.

The tower spire was a freedom for the Beast, a reminder of the benefit of the bargain he had made centuries before. A deal sealed in those ages deemed dark -- dark and befitting of the curse that had stricken the Beast. Down leagues of staircases that seemed to spiral down to the bowels of the underworld, past long hallways winding lonely through bleak walls and past portraits of the long-dead and forgotten, deep in the cold earthen sepulcher in the castle dungeons lay an ancient coffin, undisturbed but never at rest. Inscribed upon the coffin and tarnished by the passage of centuries was its intended occupant’s name and title. Sir Kylo Ren.

Far longer ago than anyone in the inconsequential little town remembered, a knight protected the land and the woods and the cliffs. The Black Knight built a castle on the highest mountain, a fortress of stone to keep the woman he loved safe within its walls. The Black Knight was as beloved by his vassals as he was feared by his enemies, for he protected his own with a fist gloved in steel armor as black as his rage. But memories are as short as the frivolous lives of the townspeople and now no one remembered the Black Knight and his valor. But all the townspeople remember the creature he became. The Beast.

Not even the mighty power of the Black Knight, his strength beyond all other men, could save his woman when the plague settled its pox over the land. She was swept away from him on a green tide of pestilence to a place he could never follow, for surely a man as fearsome as himself could never trail an angel’s wings through Heaven’s Gates. The winter that blew in after her death never again lifted from the knight’s castle grounds nor the gloom from his heart.

Offering solace to the distraught shell of a man the Black Knight had become, a witch emerged from the shadows. Never before nor since was the treacherous creature seen, save only that one harsh winter night when Sir Kylo Ren had naught for company but his thoughts that churned blacker than cauldron pitch and more poisonous than Cleopatra’s adder. Like a raft to a drowning man, the witch offered the Black Knight that which he wanted most in the Hell his world had become. To know happiness again. To feel warmth and pleasure. For his true love to be returned to him.

A deal was struck, unholy and perfidious, back in that forgotten age of knights and witchcraft. The bargain was not to be for the Black Knight, for bargains offer a benefit. It was a trick as vile and malicious as the fumes of the underworld. Wearing the tempting veil of a bargain, it was a curse wrought upon the Black Knight. And from the curse, from the coffin of the noble knight, a creature of the night emerged. More monstrous than a vampire, Sir Kylo Ren was transformed into an unholy beast.

A curse lifted by a lover’s kiss or a moment of understanding was too simple, for love can bloom in an instant in the darkest hours of the night and flutter away with the rising sun. Sir Kylo knew well how to elicit lust and desire, how to arouse the flames of passion and ecstasy that would quickly flare into a wildfire of love. The Beast’s curse could only be undone by the rarest of women; the woman who could look upon him, see the ferocious beast he was, and show no fear. It was one thing to love a monster, as some women did with their own vile husbands, but yet another to show no fear in the face of monstrosity. The boldest knights looked upon the Beast with fear hammering in their chest so fast that Sir Kylo could dance to the beat. What woman could show bravery and valor where even the finest knights could not? None who had the misfortune of crossing paths with the Beast in the long centuries since the curse was levied upon him.

A curse that only affected the accursed was too benevolent, for there must be consequences to those who would be so tenacious as to attempt to cure the Beast. The witch was cunning and her curse had teeth as sharp as the wolves of the forest. Sir Kylo would not have been known for centuries as the Beast without good cause, without earning that loathsome moniker. Fear was his most morbid aphrodisiac, the spiced scent of terror sent the Beast into a frothing bloodlust. And what remained of the man Kylo had been was lost in the turbulence of mayhem and drowned in the blood that flowed in torrents when the beast was summoned forth to bring the wrath of Hell down upon the fearful and unworthy.

Gentle and loving women, wanton and deceptive women, those pure of heart and those of unadulterated sinfulness alike, all met with equal savagery when their fear bloomed beneath their skin, coursed through their veins like the finest wine. At the faintest hint of fear, the Beast consumed what remained of the man and tore the women apart with razored fangs and supernatural strength. The body of a healthy young woman contains scantly little blood, barely enough for an aperitif, and would only whet the Beast’s appetite. Those were the nights, those nights the Beast hoped beyond hope that he had finally found a woman with the heart of a lion, when blood covered the streets of the town the next day and loved ones tried to piece missing relatives together from the limbs that had been torn off and scattered away from their bodies.

When the Beast tasted the blood of the fearful, he raged. Until the Eastern sky glowed as red as the blood on his lips, threatening him with the dreadful sunrise, he raged. And so, the Beast cloistered himself inside his castle, imprisoned himself in a fortress of his own doing. Venturing no longer from the walls of his castle and the prison of his curse, Sir Kylo waited for a death that would never come. Or so he tried. Some nights the hunger, the longing, to be free of his curse was stronger than his will.

On those nights, he would let others bleed for him. On those nights, he would watch the life drain away from a frightened woman as she found the sweet embrace of death for which he so longed. On those nights, he knew that his soul had deserted him some forgotten time centuries ago, and the terrible parts of him that remained would never again be lifted from darkness.

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For as long as you could remember, you had heard the legend of the Beast that lurked inside the castle on the cliffs. Fairytales for children, you reasoned every time you rode through the forest while the black bramble clawed at you as if to keep you trapped inside forever. Sometimes, it felt as though something more watched you than the vacant lonesome windows. But the windows were always black as arched abysses, no candle ever flickered inside the castle, no sound ever echoed through its cavernous halls. No living soul could endure in that perpetual darkness, as bleak as the harshest winter chill, devoid of light and cheer. No Beast lurked in the castle. Ghosts perhaps, lonely specters of those long-dead, but nothing with a heart that still beats.

For as long as you could remember, you had believed that.

The woods were gloaming, desolate, and dense, as you rode home from far away. Nevermore, your horse and most trusted friend, was as black as a raven in a midnight graveyard. Boldy, you rode him through the woods into which no man would venture during the hours no good woman should be awake. Howls from wolves and hoots from owls kept you company along with the nervous snorts of your horse, but there was no faster way home. There may have been tales of terror about the Beast, but even the most skittish person knew that wolves would never attack a mounted rider. Not even in the cursed depths of the black forest.

Spires, silhouetted against the stars and blacker than the midnight sky, captivated your attention when it should have been elsewhere. The frightened whiny and startled rearing of your horse altered you to the danger you had ridden into. A pack of yellow eyes and white teeth leered at you from the trees on all sides, and excited yips and growls greeted you as the wolves moved in for their kill. Nevermore bolted, you didn’t try to slow him. You could stay with your horse through rearing and bucking and running at breakneck speed through the roughest terrain. But even you were no match for the tree branch as thick as your waist that knocked you out of the saddle as your horse ran under it.

Breath refused to refill your lungs when you hit the cold hard ground. The world spun and bells tolled in your ears as you watched Nevermore gallop away, his black coat vanishing into the black woods like ink into oil. You felt the pack lunge for you even before you heard the rush of bodies running at you on padded feet, and you grabbed for the knife in your boot. Its blade would be little defense against an entire pack of wolves, but it was only your breath that had left you, not your fighting spirit.

Even as you drew your blade, a shadow blacker than the foulest witch descended upon you. Like a widow’s veil, the black cloak of your savior floated over you as the towering man who wore it charged between you and the ravening wolves. Growling more savagely than the animals, the man clad all in black hunched his broad shoulders as the wolves attacked. Faster than your eyes could follow, almost as though his enormous physique had blurred into smoke, the man tore the wolves apart like a lion tearing through lambs. When the ground was littered with grey furry carcasses, the man rolled his shoulders before turning to you.

A black scarf covered the lower half of the man’s face and a long veil of sable hair fell in chaos around his shoulders. His eyes were just as lupine as the wolves had been, gleaming gold in the pale moonlight and fixed upon you. Sweeping his cloak aside, he offered you his massive gloved hand and pulled you gently to your feet. He snugged the scarf more securely over his prominent nose before moving close enough to you to assure that you had no grievous injuries.

“Terrors fill these woods in the dead of night,” he told you in a voice that had the power to hypnotize you if you let him. “A beautiful woman should know better than to venture out alone.”

“I’m no longer alone.” You smiled and for reasons unknown to you, the man flinched at your smile as shocked as if you had struck him across the face.

“No, and your peril is now far greater for my company.” Smoothing his hand over his hair, the man looked up at the moon and shook his head almost morosely. “You cannot travel through this forest on foot and alone at night.” He again extended his hand to you. “Join me. Be my guest for the evening, but you must leave at daybreak.”

“Where will you host me?” You looked around the desolation of the forest to make your point. “There is nothing in these woods.”

“My home, naturally.” His eyes crinkled with a smirk that was concealed by his scarf as he gestured toward the dark towers in the distance.

“Ah, so you’re the infamous Beast who lives in the castle?” you teased pleasantly, but the man did not smile. Rather, his eyes grew serious at your words.

“I am Kylo Ren.” He squeezed your hand reassuringly. “I am the Beast.” His eyes burned into yours, the color of firelight. “And you must not fear me. Never fear me.”

“You’ll find I don’t frighten easily,” you assured him after you gave him your name, and then added playfully, “And you, Kylo Ren, are ill-suited to doing so.”

For the darkness and the scarf that veiled the lower half of his face, you couldn’t be sure, but you thought you saw him smile.

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Wrapped snuggly around his face, the scarf Kylo wore was the only preventive measure he could take to avoid the scent of delicious, maddening fear. Only that length of worn black wool stood between you and a death more vicious than that wolves would have given you, should he smell a hint of fear on your breath. Kylo’s senses were heightened. He saw in the darkness with mosaic vibrance, he heard the whispers of spiders spinning their webs high in his rafters, he could scent the sweet perfume of fresh blood on the breeze from the village miles below when an animal was butchered. The scarf did little to inhibit him but still, he smelled no fear. The scent of horse and of the ocean from which you had traveled lingered on your clothes and the clean floral scent of your hair delighted his senses while the honeyed scent of your skin filled his mind with possibility. He smelled enough to see the steps of your long journey into his forest, but he did not scent fear. And his heart jumped at that epiphany.

The darkened woods put fright into the bones of brave men, but you walked beside the Beast with confident ease. Even through the gates to his courtyard, gaping like the open mouth of leviathan with sharp iron spikes for teeth, and through his once beautiful garden that was now naught but dead bramble and roseless bushes of black thorns, you were not hampered by fear. As Kylo approached the arched double doors of his castle, they opened for their master and his guest, though no servants remained inside.

Torches in sconces and candles in gilded candelabras bloomed to life just ahead of you as you followed the towering man through his labyrinthian hallways. Your footsteps echoed off the stone floors while his remained deathly silent. Whether after centuries of living with the castle alone for company the stone had absorbed his own life force and knew his whims, or the ghosts who lingered and suffered within had deigned to do his bidding, Kylo never knew nor cared to question. The eyes of the dead watched from their portraits and tapestries. Perhaps it was not an illusion when those woven and painted eyes followed the movements of the living, curious to see the new guest their master had brought into the castle and fascinated to watch the horrific death that was surely soon to meet with the beautiful woman. Still, Kylo smelled no fear nor felt the prickle of trepidation on the air.

“You must be famished,” Kylo told you as he escorted you into a grand dining hall that erupted in golden light upon your entry. The sprawling table was long enough to host a battalion and slathered with enough food and wine to overfeed every vacant seat.

“Expecting guests?” You raised an eyebrow at the opulence before you.

“Only you,” he said as he pulled out a chair for you at one end of the table.

The aromas that filled the dining hall, scents of fresh meats and sauces, cheeses and sweets, and blood red wine, emboldened Kylo to remove his scarf as he took his seat at the opposite end of the long table. With the length of the table and the cornucopia of scents between you, he felt assured he could maintain his composure. Temporarily.

It was on instinct that he inhaled deeply, as he often did before meals. He smelled the full bouquet of you then, and it was not fear but excitement and arousal that perfumed you, so tempting as to threaten to send him into a frenzy. When you smiled beautifully at him as you sipped your wine, that boldness beguiled his grim scowl into smiling.

It was as if he had gifted you something precious with his smile, one that intuition told you had not been used in untold years. With his scarf removed, you could look upon the features of the Beast who struck fear into the hearts of men. He was dangerous, to be sure, but that quality added to his dark and devilish handsomeness. From his long glossy hair to his well-groomed Van Dyke, he was as sleek and dark as a panther. Even the harrowing scar that traced a painful pink welt down his right cheek added to his dashing. Only his smile revealed the outward indicia of his curse, the viciously pointed fangs of a vampire. One of those fangs drew over his plush lower lip as he admired your exquisite beauty and his eyes gleamed with golden light that danced with the flicker of candles.

“This is excessive.” You smiled as you speared a perfectly juicy filet with your fork and teased, “So much indulgence is practically sinful.”

“Vices are much more interesting than virtues, darling.” He inclined his head as he savored a piece of meat so rare as to be nearly bleeding raw. “Virtues bore me so.”

“Molière would agree with you,” you replied with a smirk, citing the source of his witticism.

“Smart woman.” He allowed admiration to wash over his features before quoting Moliere again, this time knowing you would catch the reference, “Beauty without intelligence is like a hook without bait.”

“So, you think you’ve caught me?” you retorted. “Lured me in with food and decadence?”

“No, lovely girl, it is you who has captured my attention and admiration.” He leaned toward you, resting his arms on the table. “I have taken your baited hook and swallowed it whole.”

“It does you a disservice that it is not part of the Beast’s legends what a seductive host he is,” you said coyly as you sipped your wine.

“Dinners and seductions often go well for myself and my guests.” Mirroring you, he took a drink of wine, leaving a berry stain on his lips. “It is what comes next that makes me a monster. It is after the seduction is over and minds are sobered when tragedy befalls my guests.”

“Do you think such a tragedy will befall me while in your care?” Your words were meant as an invitation, one he knew well.

“I will not allow it.” Kylo breathed deep, still scenting no fear in the air, only your uniquely erotic perfume. Nevertheless, he declined your offer for wont of trusting himself and a darkness passed behind his eyes. “But you must keep your distance from me. Do not let appearances deceive you or wine imbue you, I am every bit the monster of legend. I am the Beast.”

“You’ll find those bestial qualities of yours don’t frighten me.” You leaned forward, accepting his challenge. “They excite me.” You made a point of letting your eyes trail down his body, openly evaluating him. “You do not strike me as a monster, only a man who needs a woman’s touch.”

“You are tired and weary.” He pushed to his feet, dismissing you, forcing down the pained grimace that threatened to twist his lips. “I shall have a horse waiting for you in the morning. You will not see me again.”

“I cannot simply ride away on one of your horses and never see you again. That’s absurd,” you huffed, indignant from his rebuff. “I must at least return your horse and repay you.”

“Your pleasant company is compensation enough.” He raised his large hand in protest against further argument. “That a beautiful woman with wit and grace would stumble into the bleakness of my life for a night is more than I could have hoped for. You have brought an evening of sunlight to a man who has not seen such warmth in longer than I can recall.” He walked to you, tall and proud, and took your hand to lift you from your seat. “No, accept my kindness, for I am thankful for you to know only kindness from me. Remember me fondly. But never return.”

Inside his glimmering eyes, you saw restraint behind the passion, as if he were holding a part of himself prisoner. His hand was strong and warm, seeming to offer you all the safety in the world so long as you held it. Leading you from the dining room, he took you through his castle, up spirals of staircases, to show you to your room. Your bedchamber for the night was even more luxuriant than the bountiful dinner.

Longing demanded you pull him close, but you refrained. The turn to advance was now his. But he only lifted your hand and placed a kiss on it as searing as a flame and as soft as velvet. His lips were reluctant to leave your skin, so he growled against it, “It is the most valiant kindness I can give you to leave you now. Dream sweetly of me, darling. And when the sun rises, leave my castle and never return.”

Like a specter or a memory, he turned abruptly and his broad frame vanished into the shadows of his hallway. No candles or torches lit his way, the darkness his oldest companion.

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Icy spiderwebs of frost streaked across the glass of the arched windows gave the morning sunlight a crystalline brilliance when it streamed into your bedroom to wake you. The sun’s beautiful rudeness announced your stay at the Beast’s castle had ended. A fire that should have burned out during the night still roared in the fireplace and despite the cool stone walls, the room was filled with warmth. The castle and whatever spirits haunted its halls had welcomed you to stay forever, even if its Master would banish you for your own safety.

A note rested on the nightstand beside you, yellowed parchment folded and sealed with a blood red wax emblem depicting a mounted knight slaying a dragon. The letter came with the knowledge that Kylo had entered your room sometime during the night, had been close enough to touch your sleeping body when he left the letter. You wondered if he had. You hoped he had. A new breed of warmth flooded your body as you broke the letter’s seal. Penned in elegant calligraphy, Kylo spoke to you.

You have given me more than you shall ever know. The gift of your enchanting beauty, your brilliant smile, your sparkling eyes. You gave me the memory of the man I once was, a taste of a life long forgotten. To ask more of you would only serve to put you in the gravest possible danger. I shall not introduce you to the Beast of legend, but content myself in knowing you met only the man. Take my gifts and my thanks, and flee from this cursed place as fast as my horse can carry you.

Your servant, Kylo.

After the third read over his letter, you were resolved. You most certainly would not grant his entreat. You were not leaving his castle.

Despite your best efforts as a huntress, you could not find Kylo upon your morning search. Although, a concerted search of the fortress and grounds would take a fortnight. The castle was vacant, but it was not empty. Filled with memories, its walls held the faded echoes of laughing happiness and enraged screams, its floors stained with tears of joy and of hardship, with the blood and sweat of the generations who had lived and died inside throughout the centuries. Wonders lurked behind every door, dusty and forlorn, but wondrous beneath the neglect. Tarnished was the former majesty that had once graced the castle, but gone it was not. It would require no more than attention and a loving hand to restore its resplendence. You suspected the same of its master.

It was the cathedral-esque library that captured your interest and held it until the sun bid you farewell and twilight painted the sky crimson. Each of the thousands of leatherbound volumes was a gateway to a new world, another adventure, a life you’ve yet to live. Easily and happily lost inside an adventure captured by ink on paper, you did not notice the passage of hours until the words you read grew dim in the gloaming. Even as you thought it, the castle’s candles and torches sparked to dancing life.

With the setting of the sun the master of the castle awakened. And you felt it. The walls creaked and the tresses groaned, sharing the Beast’s pain. A growl filled with rage and despondence boomed through the long, lonely halls so that it was adopted by the walls in its reverberations. Next were crashes, the splintering of wood, the breaking of glass, the clang of metal, as furniture was destroyed by its wrathful master like a lamb at the slaughter. The sounds of frenzy and destruction led you easily to the Beast. To the dining hall that had been so grand the evening before but was now ravaged and torn through, as though a tornado had spun itself to death inside.

Silver strewn, furniture broken, table overturned, portraits slashed, and drapes hanging askew were all illuminated by dying candles that lay flickering and strewn across the floor like dying soldiers on a battlefield. In the twinkling golden light, you saw the Beast. And the Beast Kylo Ren had become was full of fury and sorrow and bloodlust, with no trace of the dashing man who had shown you a perfect evening. Shoulders hunched, long hair wild, muscles rippling beneath black fabric that was ill-suited to restrain them, Kylo snarled viciously as he grabbed another unfortunate chair and threw it against the wall with enough force to shatter it to splinters.

You could feel his rage and his pain as though they were your own. Rage at the monstrosity that lived inside him. Pain at sending away the woman who gave him a taste of salvation.

“You needn’t make such an ado over my departure,” you said calmly as you stepped fully into the broken dining hall. “You’ll find it has been delayed.”

Kylo whipped his head to look at you and you saw the face of the Beast. Razored fangs, two on each side of his upper teeth, were ready to tear you apart and his eyes were unnatural gleaming gold. A demon’s eyes met yours in place of a man’s. You saw in them shock that turned at once to shame and then bled into fear. Terror at the thought of harming you, because surely you would be overcome with fright, that deliciously irresistible fear, at the sight of him.

But the only fear was his, you had none. Stepping over rolling candles and broken glass, you walked to him with confidence until you stood close enough to feel the heat of his powerful body.

“You’re not the most dangerous thing in this castle tonight,” you told him in a sultry lift as you reached behind his neck. Without giving him the option to resist, you pulled him down to meet your lips and kissed him with a passion that set the soul within him burning as he crushed you to his body, wanting nevermore to release you from his embrace. There was no fear, only searing desire as you licked over the tips of his fangs and his tongue danced with yours. His golden eyes were molten when you finally drew apart and your lips were swollen with ripened pleasure when you said to him, “It took a witch to curse you. Only a witch can cure you.”

“A witch?” He cocked an eyebrow at you as a ferociously handsome smile curled his lips. “My darling, whether you offer a cure or another curse, I am yours for the taking.” He kissed you again, deep and lingering, then asked, “A lady as rare and radiant as you can only be a white witch?”

“Oh, I’m as wicked as they come.” You grinned wickedly indeed. “I came to the darkness long before you ever asked me to join you for an evening in your castle.” You stroked his chest, feeling his heart thunder beneath your hands, his love and passion rekindled. “We shall share in this darkness, and within it, find more light and happiness than mere mortals have ever dared to dream.”

“Darkness or light, I will not let you walk in either alone.” He held you tighter, his strong arms wrapped around your body. “Until mountains crumble to dust at our feet, I will hold you and love you with all the might of my heart. It now beats for you alone. For as long as there are stars to shine and a moon to light our way, I will never leave your side.”

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Tagging some wicked witches!

#my stuff!#my writing #halloween #vampire #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #best #fic #kylo #writer wednesday #knight #Jacques

241 notes · View notes

scarlettjohanssons-mistress · 2 years

Note

Sarah Sanderson just being really attracted to a young!mom!reader with a toddler? (+ child just absolutely adores the Sanderson sisters, especially Sarah 👀)

Thank you !! 🫶🏻

The only reason

Warnings: First time, home life, fluff, Sarah as a good mother?

Word count: 1.9 K

Pairing: Sarah Sanderson x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Request + Sarah staying to live in modernity (1993 or 2022)

Requests: OPEN

[Main masterlist] [Others masterlist]

"Isabella, stay still"

I tried to stop the little girl's face while applying a light layer of black shadow on her eyelids

"I can't, mommy, I'm super duper excited"

Really, are you ready to go trick-or-treating, little Sanderson?”

"Yup"

The girl jumped out of the bathroom to run to our room to pick up her shoes .

“Are you going out somewhere ?”

My roommate and best friend Lizzie came out of her own room in her pumpkin orange sweatshirt and pajama bottoms, with us DVDs under her arms.

“The guys and I were planning on having a game and movie night . We thought we 'd wait until you got back with the little monster to start."

"It 's fine if you start without me , anyway, I don't think it will take me and the little monkey very long."

At that very moment, Isabella ran towards us, dropped her shoes on the ground and jumped into Liz's arms who quickly picked her up.

"Are my eyes deceiving me, or am I seeing a Sanderson in person?"

"It's me, Aunt Lizzie"

“Wow, you almost gave me a scare, girl. For a moment I thought I was looking at Sarah Sanderson herself."

"I'm just playing, aunt"

While she was still in Lizzie's arms, I put her little shoes on and grabbed her bag so I could collect candy .

"Are you ready, duckling?"

"Yes mommy"

Carefully, Lizzie lowered the girl, who quickly took my hand, ready to run.

"See you later Bella, good luck"

"Bye"

We leave the set of small apartments to reach the small town fair

“Well, little witch, I think the best sweets are going to be around here. Are you ready to be scary?"

"Yup"

———————————————————————————

Seeing Bella enjoying the sweets and the children being kind to her made my heart warm. I went through many difficult moments , a complicated pregnancy, a lonely motherhood mixed with a university life; everything to get to this moment, seeing my little baby eating candys while trying to follow the older children between giggles and screams.

"Look mommy! I got a lot of candy"

"I see that, baby"

"Now can we play to win me another teddy bear?"

"Another? Don't you have ten or even more?"

"Please mommy"

I couldn't resist the little puppy dog eyes of my little girl, so I had no choice but to shake my head while letting out a laugh.

“Just for a while”

“Yeih!”

The little girl quickly took my hand and dragged me to the games.

I paid a few bucks and started throwing some darts, trying to pop the balloons. After several attempts, I was finally able to get the stuffed animal that Bella wanted, so I turned to hand it to her , but when I looked, Bella was gone.

"Bella" I yelled "ISABELLA!"

↭✪↭✪↭✪↭✪↭✪ ↭✪↭✪↭✪

Narrates Sarah

"Mary, Sarah, don't be left behind!"

Despite Winnie's constant scolding , I decided to sit on a small bench that was near the place full of monsters that smelled like children, but they weren't children. Without realizing it, my sisters continued to chase after the children, leaving me completely alone.

"Hi"

I turned my head to meet another little witch, who actually had some resemblance to me.

"Hi"

"Are you Sarah Sanderrson?"

"Yep"

The little witch clapped her hands and came even closer, to sit next to me, as she began to swing her legs.

“My nane is Bela and I am your fan best in the world”

“Do I have fans?”

“Yup. You are a great witch, and funny… and pretty”

"Seriously?" the little witch nodded enthusiastically , making me excited too "What else do you like about me?"

↭✪↭✪↭✪↭✪↭✪ ↭✪↭✪↭✪

Narrate Y/N

I felt that my heart was going to jump out of my chest, sweat and chills lodged in my neck as a reminder of my stupidity, and tears began to flood my eyes.

Just when I was about to give up and call the police , I saw her. I saw my little girl sitting on a bench, next to a grown woman dressed as a witch, talking animatedly. Carelessly, I started pushing people until I was in front of the girls sitting on the bench.

"Bella"

The girl stopped paying attention to her friend, so she could see me, noticing how her face began to light up

"Mommy!"

Bella jumped out of her seat and hugged me tightly as I told myself that my baby was fine and allowed myself to shed tears .

"You have no idea how scared you gave me, Isabella" I broke away from the hug and looked her straight in the eye so she could see that I was completely serious .

"I'm sorry mommy" she pouted a little

"Just don't do it again, okay ?" The girl nodded enthusiastically , hugging me again . "You want to go home?"

"Can my friend Sarah come?"

That's when I first noticed the woman sitting on the bench. I quickly got up and brushed some dust off the floor.

"Hello" The woman did not stop running over my body with her gaze, which was full of curiosity, and some other intention unknown to my lost flirting skills. "Hello" I repeated

"Hi" spoke the beautiful blonde

Bella gently tugged on my arm and stood on tiptoe, a sign that she wanted to tell me one of her big secrets, so I carefully crouched down again to listen to her small talk.

“She's my friend” she whispered so that only I could hear her “Sarah Sanderson. It is the same one Miss Alma was talking about”

This was similar to when the children found out about the lie of Santa Claus or the tooth fairy; I just didn't have the heart to tell her that, that woman was just making a costume for Halloween. But being the good mother that I am, I just gave her a smile and kissed her cheek.

"Oh honey, I don't think a great witch like a Sanderson would want to walk us home."

"In fact, I have nothing to do" spoke the blonde's squeaky voice, causing the smaller girl to jump.

"Pease mommy"

Bella gave me the best puppy dog eyes I had ever seen in her short 4 years of life; The woman next to her looked at my daughter's face and proceeded to imitate her before me , causing me to laugh. They were both adorable.

“Okay , how about we go get some ice cream?”

Bella didn't need to hear any more to run to the address, while yelling at us not to lose sight of her.

The beautiful blonde got up and before walking to reach my daughter, she poked me in the rib calling my attention; I turned my head and saw, the second most beautiful smile in the world.

"I'm Sarah by the way"

"Yes, I think I already noticed " I pointed to her outfit "it suits you very well, by the way"

"You are very beautiful, like a dozen spi…" she cut off her own sentence, only continuing to walk.

———————————————————————————

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

With my left hand I started to grab more teddy bears, to throw them away, thanking all the gods that just that day, Bella had decided to go get ice cream with her Aunt Lizzie.

"I told you!"

As if that weren't enough, the fact that Sarah stopped the toys with her magic made I lose my mind even more.

"I thought you were playing!"

Sarah pouted adorably as her blue eyes began to fill with tears.

"Why do you think I would lie about that?"

"It's Halloween, we all dress up and lie about who we are!" the toys are over, so it was time to bring out my plan b, yell at her. "Why aren't you even dead?" out of the corner of my eye I could see the calendar and correct the date; November 08.

"It's… kind of complicated"

"Did you eat a large amount of children's souls?"

I started to organize a plan, if this woman hadn't called her dark sisters already, she could easily run away, looking for Bella and returning to New Orleans, with my parents.

"No, it's much more complicated than this…"

"Do you want Bella's soul? Is that what you want?"

"I'm here for Bella!"

Just when I was ready to run, Sarah's sentence made me stop, as I watched her eyes follow my every move.

"What?"

"I don't understand how it works, Winnie is the one who know, but I understand that yes , we found a reason to change, we would stay here" she started walking approaching me carefully, so as not to scare me "Bella and you are my reason for being here. ”

↭✪↭✪↭✪↭✪↭✪ ↭✪↭✪↭✪

Narrates Sarah

"Can you remind me... What is this?"

"One TV"

"And inside the television is happening...?"

"A Movie"

“Oh. I like it"

Mary began to change what was inside the little magic box with little Bella sitting next to her, while I waited for the little box that warms food to make its sound to serve the dinner that Y/N had left for four. .

"I can't believe we've come down to this," Winnie whimpered as she played with one of Bella's many dolls.

"What do you mean?" I hummed as I served the dishes.

"How did you go from chasing children to…" I made a small gesture for her to lower my voice, I didn't want Bella to hear "hunting children, to being one's personal servant?"

"At some point in life we were also girls"

"Is not the same!"

"Winnie you should relax, now we don't have to round up kids, and we can live off the yellow stuff Y/N does."

"They're called 'mac and cheese.'" Bella walked over to the small kitchen counter and sat next to Winnie, "and my mommy makes the best in the world."

"I do not think so"

“My mommy says you can't macke an opinion if you haven't trried the food; right Sarah?”

"Yup"

"Sarah, don't be influenced by a girl, don't be silly…"

"Hey!" Bella yelled as she crossed her arms and pouted "Don't call Sarah 'silly', she's not silly, she's the smartest girl in town."

"Not as much as my Bella Cinderella" I put the plate in front of her and planted a kiss on her forehead

"Thanks S. Come Mary, you have to try what mommy does"

"Here I go, little witch"

↭✪↭✪↭✪↭✪↭✪ ↭✪↭✪↭✪

"So… your mom never read you bedtime stories?"

"Not that I remember. I stopped seeing my mom when I was very little.

"That's not cute" Bella spoke as she covered herself even more with the blankets

"I know " I was lost for a moment in my thoughts, until I heard again what was happening outside the room. I could make out Y /N and Winnie's voices arguing over that silly board game, while Mary couldn't stop laughing “You should go to sleep now. Good night Cinderella”

“Good night, Mommy S”

I quickly left the room and ran towards Y/N.

I took her by the arm and forced her to get up from the chair; I locked us in the kitchen and started jumping, dancing and laughing.

"What's wrong, beautiful blonde?"

Stop jumping, I grabbed her hips, pulling her close and started spreading kisses on her beautiful cheeks.

"Baby Bella called me 'mommy'"

"Really?! That's AMAZING, baby"

"I love you, very much. Both of you"

"Well, you just confirmed that we love you too"

Y/N planted a kiss on me that made me forget, just for a second, the emotion running through my body. Everything was nice, until Winnie's irritating voice interrupted the moment

"Are they going to stay locked up or can Y/N give me the money he owes me already?"

"I didn't owe you anything. You fell in my country, so YOU are the one who owes me some bills"

Note:

I'm really sorry for the delay, but the university is eating up my time (in fact, I shouldn't be uploading this and I should start 3 final papers, but it doesn't matter).

It doesn't matter if it's not Halloween anymore, at some other time of the year I'll write more about my childhood crush (obviously, Sarah). Just let my semester finish and I can write more

I hope you enjoy it

I appreciate the reblogs, the likes and the comments

taglist: @littlebitchsposts // @serpensoir

message me or send an ask to be added to my taglist!

#hocus pocus #hocus pocus 2 #sarah sanderson #winnie sanderson #mary sanderson #sarah sanderson x fem!reader #sarah sanderson imagines #sarah sanderson x reader #sarah jessica parker #sanderson sisters #bisexual #pansexual #lgbtq

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exhuastedpigeon · 8 months

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I was tagged by @monsterrae1 and @wildlife4life!!

Rules: Make a 24 hour poll with the names of your wips and then for whichever wins, write one sentence for every vote it gets.

This isn't all my WIPs, this is just the Buddie WIPs I've written more than a summary for.

No pressure tags - @rosieposiepuddingnpie @acountrygirlsfun @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998

#this is simply too many WIPs #buddie #tag game

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year

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lavender haze - aemond targaryen

aemond targaryen's lover was known as the green witch of pentos, he knew from the moment he saw her that she'd be a hard conquer. in which he realizes that not all women want to be wives. *smut

(warning: edging, oral, female dom, magic sex)

His eyes always held rivers inside of them, but she was ocean. How could a mere river understand the depths of her sincerity? He was a child, a stupid kid who needed a mother instead of a lover. Therefore, you paid him no mind, even when he keeps visiting your lonely stall. He a regular customer, and he always made sure to buy something.

"Back again, my prince?" her sweet voice brought a smile to his face as he continued touching the different teas that she sold. "Of course, did you miss me?" he teased, hoping to gain a small reaction from her.

She gently leans on the doorframe, the same coy smile playing on her mouth. He was an adorable little thing. "Why wouldn't I?" she teased back as he continued pacing around the store.

Honestly, he already knew it like the back of his own hand — but he didn't want to leave so soon. He wanted to gaze upon your delicate figure longer. "I suppose that you're right, a man like me is definitely renowned around the realm for his handsome looks." he joked and she chuckles, her voice bringing shivers up his spine.

Aemond couldn't understand why he was drawn to her. She wasn't a great beauty — nothing like those whores from Volantis, and yet her charms have seemed to trap him. "You flatter yourself too much, my little prince." she responded as his heart skips a beat.

Her little prince.

Such fine melody it sounds like.

He reaches towards the shelf, loudly grabbing an herb from the upper corner. To his surprise however, she was already standing behind him — and he could feel her warm breath on his pale ears. "Do you need help with anything?" she questioned seductively, like a temptress and he willingly resigned to her.

Her hands trail up his, landing atop his hand that was still grasping the herb. If this was heaven — then he'd stay here forever. He breaths slowly, trying to act like he was calm. He mentally curses, realizing that there was a bulge in between his pants.

She looks down and chuckles darkly. "My, my." she whispered as the shop suddenly grows dim and the curtains began to drop down, shielding them from the passersby. Aemond didn't care — he didn't give a fuck that something supernatural was happening.

He only wanted to breathe the nectar of life. And he wanted to take it, straight from the source. "I see how you stare at me," she admits with confidence as she throws the herb on the ground, finding it useless. "You want me," she asserted, while placing his hands on her breast.

It was as warm as he imagined. She pushes him on the wooden shelf, carefully placing her legs in between his. He bites back a moan, his hands continue rubbing circles along her clothed breast. Her dress was almost sheer, and she wasn't wearing any underclothes.

"Do you lust for me," she questioned as his hips bucked her way. She laughs before allowing her hand to trace down his thighs, teasing him and mocking him. "Yes." he replied with fervor as his lips found her perfumed neck. Her eyes darkened, imagining the different things she'd do to him.

"What will your mother think of you?" she chuckled as he ravished her clothed body. He's never lusted this badly over someone — he's never burnt this way before. She takes his hand once more, guiding the rough limb up her skirt and on her vagina. "What will she think of her dear son when I fuck him dry." she mumbled while her hands roughly pulled on his hair. Forcing him to stare at her face.

His eyes were wanton, and the bulge in between his pants only grew bigger. He wanted her. He needed her.

His eyes watch as she kneels down, her eyes staring up at him like a trained fox. This woman has enchanted him, and he will never be free from her power. He groans loudly, trying to unbutton his tunic.

She slaps his hands away, deciding to unbutton his pants herself. "Be patient, my prince." she breathed out while he leans on the wood. Anticipation building up inside of him.

She pressed a kiss on his thighs, her hands cupping his large cock. He involuntarily spreads his legs, and his eyes closed from the sudden stimulation. She hits his legs hard, earning his attention. "Look at me when I fuck you, boy." she commanded darkly and he found himself listening.

He tried his best to open his eyes, writhing as she gently teased him. She began to undo his pants, he moaned once more as it sprung to life. She wrapped both of her hands on it, licking along its length and chuckling as he tries to buck and create more friction.

He will not cum without her permission. She made sure of it.

She places her lips on its tip, trying to tease him and earn a reaction. He closes his eyes, and she pulls on his hand. "I told you to look at me," she scolded and he moaned loudly, feeling her hand rub along his member.

He couldn't understand why he was feeling this. Why his arousal felt better than touching himself.

She goes down once more, his eyes watching in delight as his member disappeared from his view. "Ahh," he moaned loudly — he could almost swear that everyone in Kingslanding was able to hear him.

She swirls her tongue inside of him, smiling as his breathing became labored. He placed a hand on her head, pushing her deeper and moaning as she gagged on his length. He was big. More than she was used to.

She rubbed her thighs together, trying to create pleasure for herself. She moans loudly, sending vibrations up his penis. "Fuck," he cursed as he tried not to close his eye.

This woman was something else.

She bobbed her head, allowing her saliva to become lubrication and speed up her thrusts. "Y/N." he moaned her name for the first time, as she places a hand on his thighs.

Her beautiful prince. Reduced to a moaning whore.

Then, she went deeper — sucking on his dick like it was some kind of fruit. His eyes rolled back, feeling his edge creep closer. "Cum for me, riñītsos. (little boy)" she commanded as his hips bucked in pleasure, feeling his seed seep down her throat and coating her face white.

He leans back, almost falling if it weren't for the wood keeping him still. She wipes her face with her forearm, standing up and silently zipping his pants. His hands reached for her, rubbing circles and staring in her eyes. "Marry me," he proposed, as his eyes held nothing but sincerity.

She looks away. And takes a deep breath.

"No." she responded plainly, as if she'd done this a thousand times. "Please," he pleaded and she only places a kiss on his forehead. "No." she repeated.

taglist: @scarwicht @nyctophilic0vitnir @casualheartadorable @witch-of-letters @resilient2021 @zgzgzh @rhaenryaswife

#aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond targaryen x reader #one eyed prince #aemond targaryen smut #prince aemond targaryen smut

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adarafaelbarba · 7 months

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Who do I write for?

Law and Order SVU and other Law and Order shows

Sonny Carisi

Rafael Barba

Mike Dodds

Nick Amaro

Kat Tamin

Peter Stone

Hasim Khaldun

Grace Muncy

Rita Calhoun

Toni Churlish

Joe Velasco

Mike Duarte

Jamie Whelan

Bobby Reyes

Nolan Price

Frank Cosgrove

Jet Slootmaekers

Samantha Maroun

Terry Bruno

~~~

Raúl Esparza Characters

Frederick Chilton

Bryan Kneef

Nevada Ramirez

Jackson Neill

Jonas Nightingale

~~~

Chicago PD

Jay Halstead (Could also be Will if you want)

Antonio Dawson

Adam Ruzek

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz

Dante Torres

Vanessa Rojas

Kevin Atwater

Sean Roman

~~~

Chicago Fire

Matt Casey

Kelly Severide

Joe Cruz

Sylvie Brett

Blake Gallo

Christopher Hermann

"Mouch"

Otis

~~~

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Literally any of the Avengers

~~~

Mayans MC

Angel Reyes

Miguel

Bishop

Coco

Nestor

~~~

A Discovery of Witches

Matthew

Diana

Baldwin (specify if you want old or new Baldwin)

Gallowglass

Marcus

Phoebe

Miriam

Dominico

Ransome

Geraldine

Philippe

Ysabeau

Louis

Louisa

Verin

Freyja

Stasia

Hugh

Godfrey

Sarah

Peter

Gerbert

Benjamin

Father Hubbard

~~~

Sherlock:

Greg Lestrade

Mycroft Holmes

Sherlock Holmes

Moriarty

Molly

~~~

Kingsman:

Merlin

Harry

Whiskey

Eggsy

Roxy

Lancelot/James Spencer

Percival/Alastair

~~~

The Rookie:

Lucy Chen

Tim Bradford

Celina Juarez

Aaron Thorsen

Nyla Harper

Angela Lopez

Wesley Evers

~~~

911 / 911 lone star:

Athena Grant

Bobby Nash

Henrietta "Hen" Wilson

Evan "Buck" Buckley

Eddie Diaz

Howie "Chimney" Han

Ravi Panikkar

T.K. Strand

Owen Strand

Carlos Reyes

Marjan Marwani

Paul Strickland

Tommy Vega

Judson "Judd" Ryder

Grace Ryder

Nancy Gillian

Mateo Chavez

#karen speaks #who do I write for?#law and order svu #law and order organized crime #law and order #chicago fire #chicago pd #kingsman #a discovery of witches #mayans mc #marvel cinematic universe #the rookie #sherlock #911 lone star #911 abc #911 fox

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lonelyhooves · 1 year

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A Quick PSA

Hey guys!

2022 was a hectic year, and 2023 is looking to be stressful in a whole different way. We're doing our best to get the ball rolling again (we love this story!) but it's difficult when we both keep having to take commission work just to keep the lights on.

While we can't really ask for money to support Lonely Hooves specifically, I'm pretty sure we can get away with panhandling other ways, so if you're interested in supporting us (and able - you need to eat too), here's what we've got going on elsewhere:

Kazzie runs character adopts! She does ponies a lot, but has started dabbling with anthros. You can keep up with her present offerings on her ych.art site (there's a couple running right now! They're very cute!)

Meanwhile, Sera (me! hi!) is running an 18+ Patreon where you can get access to a lot of goodies for a couple bucks a month. There's a couple sporadically updated comic things here, but it's mostly pin-ups at the moment, with the exception of my first proper foray into non-comics writing in... quite a long time! If you like the storytelling of Lonely Hooves and don't mind an original setting where things get pretty spicy on a regular basis, the first couple chapters of Witches' Thralls are already live over there, and I'd love to hear what folks think! There's also Hare Moon, an 18+ MLP smutfic comic where Angel turns into some sort of raging werebunny and needs certain needs addressed. Some of that's public, but half of it isn't, and you can find that over here too! And just, like, so many boobies. (Seriously! Over 18 only!!)

I also take commissions but am pretty bogged down at this exact moment. Kaz can do pony ref sheets and all sorts of things though, and her turn-around makes me jealous as hell. your best bet to get in touch with us about that kind of thing is probably the community Discord, but even if you're not there to throw money at the screen we'd love to have you! We don't bite, usually! Unless... you're into that?? 😳

Okay! That's enough of that for now!

The next page is already sketched, and I'm very excited to finally be sharing this next scene with you all! I hope you all enjoy Muse becoming a bit less of an enigma!

See you soon!

Z (Sera)

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wildlife4life · 5 months

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Inspiration Saturday

Tagged by the always wonderful @911-on-abc @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @bekkachaos @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @hoodie-buck @try-set-me-on-fire @daffi-990 and @hippolotamus. Thank you all so much! Looking forward to all your future works!

Well in the past day or so it has been wolf fic after wolf fic. So I'm throwing my own in as well. This was the fic I tried to get done for Halloween, but didn't happen. Witch Buck and werewolf Eddie.

“I don’t think he’s a burden.” Christopher whispers, tears blooming in his golden eyes, “Its just-.” He sniffles and Eddie waits on him to gather his thoughts and emotions. “He feels left out; I know he does, and you get so sad because you feel it through your bond. And I see and smell it every full moon. You miss Buck, you want him to join us, and I do too. He never has though.” That wasn’t entirely true. Buck did participate in a lone full moon three months ago, but not with the pack. It was only the witch and his wolf. That night, Buck truly became Eddie’s mate and intertwined their very souls. Eddie would never forget how beautiful his witch looked under the glow of the full moon. Buck’s naked pale skin was luminous and beautifully flushed a delicate pink. His curls were free from product and littered with debris from the forest floor. And his eyes, oh they were magnificent. Glowing neon blue with from his magic and becoming almost blinding from the thrill of the chase.

I may hop back on this once my 4+1 Cockblocked Eddie is done and posted. We'll see. Hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @fortheloveofbuddie @wikiangela @spotsandsocks @theotherbuckley @jamespearce9-1-1 @devirnis @exhuastedpigeon @lover-of-mine @jeeyuns @ladydorian05 @malewifediaz @elvensorceress @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @jesuisici33 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @thekristen999 @spagheddiediaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @eowon @honestlydarkprincess @911onabc @cowboydiazes @vampbuckley @brokenribsdiaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @arthursdent @glorious-spoon @buddierights @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @gayedmundodiaz @princessfbi

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lucy-sky · 2 years

Note

Since you said we could send two requests, I'd love to see a drabble with The Mute and the prompt - first kiss + in the moonlight. No pressure, I'd be happy with either 💖

Moonlight Blossom (The Mute x f!Reader)

1220 words (This one turned a bit too long, but I reread it like 5 times and I can't bring myself to delete anything so let it be); no warnings; gif by me

AO3 link

A/N: It's my first time writing The Mute, and I enjoyed it A LOT *_* (to the point that I'm thinking about possible sequel)

The Reader character is heavily inspired by Olga - Anya Taylor-Joy's character from The Northman... And partly by Misty Day from American Horror Story. In other words, a local friendly witch™, kind, yet mysterious and lonely. Anyway uh... Hope it turned out good enough :')

REQUESTS CLOSED!

The night is filled with fragrance. Herbs, wildflowers and fresh grass, the scent of tree bark and warm soil, cooling down in the midnight air after a sunny day. And also something indescribable, the way only summer nights smell like. You close your eyes and inhale deeply, a content smile playing on your lips. It’s your time and you love it. The forest is your friend, has always been, as long as you remember yourself.

People in the village call you a witch behind your back, same as they used to call your mother before. There were rumors she had accursed her husband, and the next day he was found dead. The rumors lied - there was no curse. Your father died because he used to drink too much knock-off booze and had a pretty explosive temper, so one day a drunken fight simply didn’t end well for him. You’ve never missed him though.

People used to call your mother a witch, but with no disrespect, because there literally wasn’t a single person in the village she hadn’t helped at least once. No matter how badly someone was sick or injured, she always had a special cure. Now that she’s gone, you took her place. She taught you everything she knew, all about herbs, wild berries and potions. What could heal you, ease your pain or make it worse.

It’s Full Buck Moon - time to gather some fresh herbs. You used to help your mother when you were younger, and now you keep doing it alone every year - a ritual that always brings you joy. Walking in the woods at night may sound dangerous, but you are not afraid. You feel exactly where you belong.

As you walk down a familiar path, you suddenly realize you’re not alone - someone is following you. Heart beating faster, you turn sharp round and instantly feel relieved as you see him.

“Oh, it’s you…”

You don’t really trust men - your father is to blame. But when you found this tall dark-haired man at the shore, badly wounded, almost at death's door, there was no hesitation on your part - you simply couldn’t leave him there to bleed. Your mother wouldn’t. She always taught you to help people in need. She believed there’s a kind of invisible force that runs the world and everyone’s lives. God or Destiny - whatever you call it, it sees everything, and if you're being kind, it will pay you back when you need it the most. The more you give - the more you receive, that’s what she used to say.

It took a rather long while, but you managed to heal his body. With his soul though, it’s way more complicated. He didn’t say a word to you, so you have no idea what he’s been through and who did this to him. But you can sense that something is torturing his mind, waking him up in the middle of the night gasping for air after another bad dream. There’s one thing you know for sure by now - he’s a decent man.

You were suspicious of him at first, you can’t deny. A few nights you slept with a knife underneath your pillow. But slowly you both learned to trust each other, and now you find his silent presence oddly comforting. There’s this quiet gentleness behind his rough exterior, in the way he looks at you with unspoken kindness and gratitude. It tells you he’s a good person, no matter what horrible things he might have seen or done.

The Mute cocks his head, glancing at you softly as if apologizing for startling you.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, examining his expression as he comes closer. He’s been around long enough, so you already learned to read it.

“Oh. I see. You’re worried about me? Please don’t. It’s just my usual routine. Some flowers I need only bloom at full moon. I’ll be fine, trust me. Been doing this for years. Go back to sleep, alright? I’ll be back soon.”

You give him a reassuring smile and continue your way. He doesn’t go away though. You can hear his footsteps behind your back - he clearly doesn’t want to leave you alone in the woods, and it gives you an unusually warm sensation. It’s new for you, and even though it’s totally unnecessary, you’re still glad he decided to join you tonight. It’s something so personal, something you only shared with your mother before, and now you realize you don’t mind sharing it with your silent companion as well.

He follows you to the moonlit meadow - your most favorite spot. The moon is amazingly bright tonight, not a single cloud in the sky, stars twinkle silently above your heads.

“Isn’t it beautiful here? You know, sometimes I just lie here in the grass, watch the moon and the stars, and it’s like I’m all alone in the entire world. You know what it feels like?” you ask, and he nods in reply. Of course he knows. He’s just as lonely as you are, maybe that’s what draws you together. As much as you love your quiet solitary life, every human being needs another human being. It’s a law of nature, simple as that.

For a few minutes you’re busy picking the flowers. The Mute helps, so the work goes fast. Once you’re done, you put your basket on the ground and lie down on the grass with a deep sigh.

“I want to stay here for a little while,” you say, as you close your eyes.

He watches you, hesitant for a split second, before getting down to lie beside you. The light brush of his fingers against your arm makes you shiver, and you turn to look at him. There’s a soft, barely visible smile on his lips as he hands you a delicate white flower. You bring it to your nose, inhaling its scent, and when your eyes meet his again, you think you could drown in their depths. Slowly, you reach out to tuck the flower in his dark curls. The chuckle he makes causes your heart to swell with sudden tenderness, and you let your fingers tentatively stroke his bearded cheek. His hand, big and warm, finds yours, you watch him pressing a kiss against your knuckles, and then it happens. Without thinking, driven by pure instinct, you lean closer and press your lips against his. It feels weird and awkward, and you instantly want to hide, but then his thumb brushes against your cheekbone, and he kisses you, for real this time. It’s tender and incredibly sweet - the softness of his lips and the light scratch of his beard. The gentle bump of your noses against each other and the warmth of his breath. The quiet hum he makes when you open up to him, welcoming his tongue to slide against yours. You can’t tell how long it lasts, but it leaves you all flushed and breathless.

Your first kiss. That’s what it feels like, now you know. It’s like flowers blooming in your chest and butterflies in your belly. Beautiful. Smiling blissfully, you lean into him, nestling your head against his firm chest. Closing your eyes, you feel his fingers caressing your hair as the steady beating of his heart lulls you to sleep.

Thank you for reading!! (and for this request, omg)

Tags: @skvatnavle, @chellestrash

1500 Milestone Celebration Drabbles Masterlist

#the mute #the mute x reader #pilgrimage #jon bernthal fanfiction #requests #drabble #follower milestone #lucy tries to write

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911ficrecs · 9 months

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Do you have any good magic au/fantasy/mythology etc. Fics from Lone Star that you'd recommend? (I'm also up for og 911 but I have found a fair few on ao3 already 😂)

Here are some you might like!

Between Me, The Sand, And The Sea by IBoatedHere - 13,325 words, mature

Summary: This time, when he pulls himself up, he spots a head and shoulders poking out of the water.

He opens his mouth, ready to yell, “man overboard,” when the man—actually a boy probably no older than Carlos himself—calls out to him instead.

“Wait,” he says, voice sweet and melodic like a song. “Don’t.”

Carlos freezes, and the boy nods before swimming forward into the light of the moonbeam.

Burning, Dreaming by benjaminrussell - 2,238 words, teen+

Summary: In the wake of the fae-human cooperation treaty being signed, a team is formed under the guise of Firehouse 126 to deal with any issues that arise from the two cultures becoming more intertwined. TK and his crew are responding to one of these issues when their patient turns violent and suddenly TK finds himself elsewhere, somewhere he wants to stay, especially when a beautiful fae man turns his attention on him…

The Prince and the Knight by tabbytabbytabby - 22,819 words, teen+

Summary: Buck is a prince, destined to one day rule of the Kingdom of Hartfyre. Eddie is a knight assigned to his personal guard. He comes to the kingdom for a chance to start over but has more than one secret, which are put at risk of being exposed the more time he spends with the prince. Yet he feels a pull towards Buck that he can't explain. One that makes him want to be closer rather than run away. When the kingdom is cursed, Eddie and Buck set out on a quest to find a way to save the kingdom and its people. A quest that brings more than one hidden truth to light.

Witching Hours by Pigeonsplotinsecrecy - 1,026 words, general

Summary: In this witchcraft AU, T.K. and Carlos meet under magical circumstances.

- Tori

#classical-memeician #answered #found #tarlos #tk strand #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #au #fantasy #magic

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skylarstark4826 · 3 months

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Friday Nights at the Weasleys’

He couldn’t remember ever feeling this uncomfortable. For someone who’d been turned into a ferret in front of the student body at large and whose parents had hosted Voldemort in their home on more than one occasion that was really saying something. And yet here he sat, the lone guest of the bride, while the groom’s side of the aisle seemed to overflow with well-wishers - many of them sporting ginger hair of the Weasley variety – feeling like some odd sort of insect on display.

Pansy owed him for this. She owed him big.

Weasel King (Ron, he could hear Pansy admonish him.) stood under a flowered arch with an expression that was halfway between bliss and nausea, the green-eyed savior of the wizarding world beside him. Typically, Potter’s hair stuck up at odd angles. Did the git not own a comb? He could defeat the Dark Lord, but he couldn’t master a simple cosmetic charm?

Pulled from his thoughts by the start of music, Draco turned to see the Weasley girl walking slowly down the aisle. He had to admit the emerald green, cocktail-length bridesmaid's dress worked very well for her. It accentuated the creamy glow of her skin and as she moved past him, Draco noted that her legs weren't half bad either. The bright summer sunlight was shining on her hair, revealing a variety of red shades blended in a much more fetching way than he remembered from their Hogwarts days. There wasn't any denying it. Ginny Weasley had grown into quite an attractive witch. His eyes followed her until she took her place, turning her face in the direction from which she'd just come as the music changed to signal the approach of the bride.

The guests rose as one, all focused on the vision in white moving towards the altar. Draco didn't really need to stand since there was no one to block his view, but far be it from him to buck tradition. He couldn’t help but smile at the openly content look on his best friend’s face as she took her final steps as Pansy Parkinson. As much as he would have preferred to see her with someone other than the freckle-faced git, Ron obviously made her happy and Draco would put up with him as long as that was the case. Pansy had stood by him through all his years of stupidity; he figured she was due the same sort of loyalty during hers.

He weathered the ceremony admirably, he thought. When the Weasley matriarch began boo-hooing about her baby boy, Draco made sure to turn his head before he rolled his eyes; and when a smallish red-haired boy announced rather loudly that his mummy was ‘up the duff’ again, he covered his snort with a cough. His forbearance was tested each time his attention wandered to the bridesmaid, however. Ginny Weasley seemed to take great pleasure in trying to break his control, her own laughter visible in her eyes and expression each time she caught him looking her way. Years of practice at masking his emotions paid off, however, and there was only one point at which Draco thought he might crack. And really, who could have blamed him? The girl was making fishy faces at him during her brother’s vows, for Salazar’s sake. No upbringing at all, he thought without any real condescension.

The reception was a loud and boisterous affair. After getting lost in the sea of ginger several times and dodging a number of explosives that the ones called Fred and George seemed to think appropriate for such a celebration, Draco finally managed to locate the newlyweds to offer his congratulations.

Smirking as he approached, he held his hand out to the Weasel. “Congratulations, Weasley. You’ve got the better end of this arrangement, I hope you realize.”

“I won’t argue that, Malfoy,” Ron returned evenly, taking Draco’s hand with an unnecessarily firm grip.

Watching the display with a bored expression, the bride gave a long-suffering sigh. “Are you planning to wish me well, Draco, or do I need to fetch a ruler and determine who has the biggest prick first?”

“That won’t be necessary, I wouldn’t embarrass Ron on his wedding day.” Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he looked at her with genuine affection. “I am happy for you, Pans. You deserve the best, and if Weasley’s managed to convince he’s it, I suppose that’s good enough for me.”

Her arms were around him in an instant. She spoke quietly, so only he could hear. “He’s good to me, Draco. I know you don’t see it, but I’m so glad you came today. It wouldn’t have felt right without you here.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He pulled away gently, taking her hand and passing it to Ron. “Now go on and celebrate with your husband, Mrs. Weasley.”

As Ron led Pansy off to mingle and dance, Draco grabbed a glass of firewhisky and sat at a table far off to the side. He hadn’t lied, he was happy for Pansy. Glad that she’d found someone to be happy with. It was a bittersweet thing, though. They’d been a pair for almost as long as he could remember. Intended for one another as children, best friends when they discovered their own desires didn’t match their parents’. It was Pansy who stood by Draco when he realized the path his father had taken was the wrong one; Pansy who went with him to turn information over to the Order of the Phoenix. By the war’s end, they’d both been disowned and they were shunned by all the people they’d thought of as friends. It was a difficult adjustment, but they’d helped each other. Now she had Weasley for that.

“Sitting over there with all your friends, are you?”

Head popping up at the sound of a female voice, Draco was greeted by the sight of the mischievous bridesmaid who’d spent the ceremony trying to fluster him. “It would be more correct to say I’m sitting here with all of Pansy’s friends, as I’m just a guest at her wedding.”

“Fair enough.” Ginny flashed a grin as she came to sit with him. “You were looking awfully grave considering the occasion. You could try, I don’t know, joining in the festivities?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “I’d thought of asking Potter to cut a rug, but I’d be crushed if he rejected me.”

“Your toes would be crushed if he accepted, more like,” she rejoined with a snort. “He might’ve defeated the most evil wizard the world has ever known, but Harry’s about as graceful as a Confunded troll. I, on the other hand, am the very picture of poise and polish.”

“I could tell that from the moment you looked at me with those charming fish lips.” Rising, Draco offered his arm. “If you’d care to dance, I’ll do my best to not to embarrass you.”

Ginny accepted with a laugh, and that was the last Draco sat until much later in the evening.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I don’t know why we needed to invite Ginny for dinner tonight,” Ron grumbled as he set four place settings around the table.

Pansy’s face was all innocence, which her husband knew meant she was up to no good.

“Don’t you want to see your sister, darling?”

Ron pointed the fork in his hand at her accusingly. “You know that’s got nothing to do with it. Why invite her the same night as you’ve invited Malfoy?”

“Draco, darling,” she replied in a warning tone.

“Fine. Why invite Draco and Ginny over the same night?”

With a roll of her eyes, Pansy shrugged. “We don’t have any other single friends. I didn’t want either of them to feel like a third wheel. Now we’re all evened up. Boy, girl, boy, girl.”

She was saved from Ron’s retort by the doorbell, and Pansy gave a smug smile as she turned to greet their first guest.

Draco stood outside the flat with the requisite bottle of wine for his hosts. He was looking forward to seeing Pansy; he’d been trying to give her time to settle into her new life, but he’d missed her. It would have been preferable to spend time with his friend on his own, but he’d endure the company of the Weasel King if he had to.

“Draco!” Pansy said warmly, embracing him tightly before stepping aside so that he could enter. “Come in. It’s so good to see you.”

“You too, Pansy,” he replied, returning her hug. Stepping inside the small flat, Draco nodded at Ron. “Weasley.” The none-too-discreet clearing of a feminine throat brought a heavy sigh. “I mean, Ron.”

“Draco,” Ron returned.

Handing Pansy the bottle of wine he’d brought, Draco spent a few awkward moments with Ron while she carried it to the kitchen. Since it didn’t appear that Weasley was going to offer up any polite conversation, Draco ventured a lame attempt. “So, what do you think of the Harpies chances this year?”

They were interrupted, thankfully, by a sharp rap on the door, and before anyone could answer it, Ginny popped her head inside. “Hello. Sorry I’m late.” Her eyes fell on Draco with surprise and she leveled a pointed look at her sister-in-law. “Oh, Pansy didn’t mention you’d be here, Draco.”

“Surprise,” he said in dry humor. Pansy hadn’t mentioned that Ginny would be coming to him, either. Not that he minded particularly, but it smacked of matchmaking. Pans had been after him to find a girlfriend ever since she’d gotten serious about Ron. She gets a Weasley and suddenly decides everyone else needs one, too.

Pansy called them to the table and Ron poured them each a glass of wine. Leaning in toward Draco, Ginny whispered, “Now we watch to see if Pansy drinks. The last three Weasley brides came back from their honeymoon pregnant.”

Draco choked and turned wide eyes to Pansy as he gasped for air. He’d just gotten used to the idea of her marrying one of the red-haired brigade, thoughts of her breeding with Ron were not something Draco was ready to consider. He watched with bated breath until she raised her glass to her lips and sipped, an audible sigh of relief escaping as she did.

“Something wrong, Draco?” Pansy asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“No, not at all. Just enjoying my meal, Pans. Your cooking has really improved,” he teased.

Ron snorted.

Setting her glass down with a thunk, Pansy scowled at her husband. “Ron made it.”

A chorus of muffled snickers came from around the table until the glare from the most recent Mrs. Weasley silenced them.

Pansy turned her attention to Ginny and raised a brow. “Oh, you’re wearing your locket, Ginny. You like it, then? I’d hoped it would suit.”

Pink staining her cheeks, Ginny’s hand went to the silver oval that hung from her neck. “Yes, thank you. It’s perfect.”

Draco looked at the piece of jewelry. It was a pretty little charm, simple but elegant. The face had a series of intertwined vines engraved upon it, surrounding a scripted ‘G’. “It does suit you rather well. Do you have a pictures inside?”

Tightening her hand on the locket, Ginny shook her head. “No! I mean, not yet.”

They ate in relative silence for awhile, until Draco felt a poke in his side and jumped up with a rather effeminate titter. Clearing his throat, he took his seat again, shooting a level look at the young woman who’d been trying to get his attention. “Did you need something?”

Ginny didn’t even try to muffle the giggles. “I was wondering if you would pass the rolls. Sorry if I startled you.”

As Draco handed her the requested item, Pansy chimed in. “Oh, he wasn’t frightened. Draco is extremely ticklish. He can barely stand for someone to wiggle a finger at him.”

“Is that right?” Ginny asked with a mischievous smirk, waving her index finger at the man in question.

Glaring at each woman in turn, Draco scooted his chair farther from the offensive digit. “No. I’m not ticklish. Pansy just likes to tell tales.”

Pansy just smiled and took another sip of wine. “Of course, darling.”

It became a regular gathering, these Friday night dinners with Pansy, Ron and Ginny. Draco enjoyed seeing his oldest friend often, and over time he even began to like the Weasel King – a little. He discovered that his best friend’s husband was a keen strategist, and playing wizard’s chess with him was a real challenge. Ron also had a knack for pushing his sister’s buttons. Watching the two of them go after each other was highly entertaining, so long as you were quick enough to get out of the way when hexes started to fly.

Even when she wasn’t out for Ron’s blood, Ginny was fun. In her endless quest to get Draco to admit his ticklishness, she’d often try to catch him unaware, going for his side as she pretended to reach for something just beyond him or pinching his knee at the dinner table.

She could talk about anything. Ginny had quite an array of knowledge, but even when faced with a topic about which she knew nothing, she could ferret out enough information to take a position exactly opposite whoever she picked as her target for torment. Draco enjoyed sparring with her. With her quick wit and a penchant for mischief, conversation with Ginny was never dull. It was something he looked forward to.

And then one Friday, there were only three places at the dinner table.

“Isn’t Ginny coming?” Draco asked, a frown forming at the sight of the empty spot where she usually sat.

Ron and Pansy exchanged a look, and Pansy’s words were clipped when she answered. “No, she had other plans tonight.”

The news did not sit well with Draco. For months now they’d been meeting every Friday night. It was a routine. A standing engagement. How could she have other plans?

“What other plans?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ron shrugged, obviously uncomfortable. “Dunno exactly. She said something about meeting a bloke for dinner.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open. “She’s on a date?” Brow creased in agitation, he added stupidly, “But it’s Friday night!”

“Generally thought of as a good time for such things, darling,” Pansy retorted in a bored tone. “What are you so concerned about anyway? It’s not as though you’re dating her. Why should you care if someone else does?”

“I don’t care…” And then he realized that he did care. Quite a lot, in fact. He didn’t want Ginny out with some other man when she was supposed to be here with him, talking and sneaking up on him with casual touches. “Where is she?”

Ron looked mildly surprised, but Pansy had a ready answer. “I believe she mentioned a place called Dante’s. Probably one of those romantic little Italian places with drippy candles.”

He knew exactly the place she was talking about. It was romantic, and it did have drippy candles. It was an ideal place to take a date if you wanted to make a good impression. “Bloody hell,” Draco muttered, heading for the door.

“Draco? Don’t you want to stay and eat?” Pansy called after him, but it was too late. He was gone.

Wrapping an arm around his wife, Ron leaned down and kissed her hair. “You really are devious sometimes.”

Pansy’s face was a picture of satisfaction. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

Draco apparated to the restaurant and stormed past the hostess. Spotting Ginny at a table in the corner, he went straight to her, coming to a stop beside her table. She started to smile up at him, but seeing his expression, her own changed to one of confusion.

“Where’s your date?” Draco demanded.

Ginny blinked. “What?”

“Because I’m going to tell him to bugger off. It’s Friday night. Our night. The night I look forward to all week.” His head swiveled, searching for the interloper who had thrown a wrench in the works.

“But Pansy said… Draco, there’s no need to –“ she began, but he cut her off.

“No need?” he exclaimed, sinking into the chair across from her and taking her hand. “I don’t want to lose our Friday nights, Ginny. I don’t want to lose you.”

The corners of Ginny’s mouth turned upward and she pulled her hand away from Draco. Reaching behind her neck, she unclasped the locket she always wore.

Placing it in Draco’s hand, she said, “There is no other date, Draco. I was waiting for you. Pansy told me you’d meet me here.”

“Waiting for me?” he asked, confused as he turned the locket in his fingers.

“Open it.”

With a curious glance at the beautiful witch across from him, Draco opened the locket to find a picture from Pansy and Ron’s wedding reception. Ginny was in his arms as they twirled around the garden behind the Burrow in perpetual motion.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following summer Draco stood under a flowered arch, feeling alternately blissful and nauseous. To his left was a tall, red-haired fellow with the kind of knowing expression that only men who have already been through a day such as this one can wear. The bride’s guests were packed tightly on their side of the aisle, with more than one new arrival since the last wedding took place in this spot.

There was only one person seated on the groom’s side, a pretty, brunette witch with a turned-up nose and a burgeoning belly. Draco smiled at her as the music began to play. Turning his head to watch Ginny march slowly towards him to become his wife, he decided that Pansy had paid him back very well indeed.

#drinny #draco x ginny #draco malfoy #ginny weasley #Drinny #Draco and Ginny #Draco x Ginny #Draco/Ginny #Draco Malfoy #Ginny Weasley #slytherin!draco #slytherin!ginny #Werewolf!Draco #Vampire!Ginny

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