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#elemental witches are up next~~~~
emsartwork · 1 year
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Some minor witches! Selina and Lucy in their full Witch uniforms! 
Selina is the Witch of Ink in my verse, Lucy is the Witch of Insects, same as the show
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guideaus · 1 year
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i got on my laptop and forgot i had 20 tabs open of pages from mty and one w beauty and the beast tales master list
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httpiastri · 5 months
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control freak – ln4
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lando hates a lot of things. not being in control is definitely one of them.
genre: smut
pairing: female reader x lando norris
warnings: smut 🤭 i dont remember what it's called? but lando gets tied up. he likes to be in control, so i guess dom!lando is kinda insinuated. it's a bit dirtyyy but there are also some soft elements bcs who would i be to not include those :)
requested?: yes! thank you for requesting 🤍 (requests are still open!)
author's note: this was supposed to be just a blurb but something happened lol. also, very much inspired by this ask and the just him talking about how he needs to be in control in that video. this thought has been living in my mind rent-free since that moment. hope u all enjoyyyy<3<3 (if this doesn’t work this time. idk what to do. anyways.)
f1 masterlist
18+ content below, minors dni!
"there we go..." you say, leaning back slightly and letting go of lando's wrist. "you alright?"
"my hands, yes. my ego, however..."
earlier this year, you and lando had agreed to buy one of those adult christmas calendars, one with a new toy or tool for the bedroom every day. so far, you'd gotten a blindfold, a massaging oil, and even a smaller vibrator. and today's present? a pair of sleek, white silk ribbons.
lando had immediately pulled the little strings out of the box, measuring them around your wrists. but you had shook your head, snatching them out of his hands and telling him it was his turn.
he had just cocked an eyebrow at you, assuming you were kidding. but the grin you had worn, one that told him that you were fully serious, had made him chuckle, rolling his eyes. no way, he'd told you, giving you a pat on the head before he leaned down against his pillow again. he had assumed this would be a lost cause for you, because there was no way he was letting you expose him to one of the things he hates.
lando hates a lot of things. number one: he hates not being in control, and he hates it so much.
the fact that he needs to be in control is very well-known in your relationship, and it applies to most situations. he needs to be the one driving, even if you're just going on a short trip to the supermarket; he needs to know who's invited to a dinner party so he can plan ahead; and of course, he feels a need for power in the bedroom.
but you are nothing if not persistent. lando is the very definition of stubborn, sure, but you would not give up on this one.
your boyfriend always thought you must be some kind of witch, because your effect on him is paranormal. the way you bat your eyes at him, your soft touch on his cheek, and your sweet kisses lingering on his lips – they could get him to agree to almost anything. even this, apparently.
since today was a friday, you had gone out for dinner and some drinks tonight before hurrying back home to try out your new present. lando was still a bit hesitant, but your lips pressed against his and your hips brushing his crotch as you sat on his lap on your bed made him give up yet again.
and that's how you find yourselves here, him already stripped out of everything except his boxers, with the sleek white ropes connecting him to the headboard. you twirl the fabric by his right wrist around your finger one final time, smiling at the little bows you've made. "you look so pretty right now," you hum, leaning down a little and tracing a finger along his jaw. "kinda wanna take a picture."
"do it."
you shake your head, not wanting to bring out your phone and possibly ruin the moment. you smile at the firmness in his voice, pressing a quick peck to his lips. "next time."
lando's chest vibrates with his chuckle. "oh, you think there will be a next time?"
"i know there will, because i'm in charge here."
the retort he was planning gets caught in his throat as your lips meet the side of his neck. he sighs at the feeling of your kisses traveling down to his chest, tongue coming out to lick the skin occasionally. he instinctively tries to grab your hips with his hands, momentarily forgetting about his restraints and letting out an annoyed groan when he's held back. you giggle against him when you hear the ropes snap against the headboard.
"already?" you ask, hands dragging up and down his beautifully tanned skin as your kisses trail even further, meeting the skin of his hipbones, giving both sides equal attention.
you can see how he clenches his fists from the corner of your eyes, knuckles already turning a little white. "i hate this. i really hate this," he mumbles.
"but you like me, don't you?" you counter, sitting back on your heels between his legs and letting your hands find the waistband of his boxers. "let me have my fun."
"great to know one of us is having fun, i guess." you take your time pulling down his underwear, enjoying every second of watching his impatience. when he's finally fully naked, his cock springs up to his stomach, a little precum leaking from him already.
"lando," you start, your thumb rubbing around the tip before spreading the precum along him. "don't you trust me?" you lower yourself down to press a kiss to his tip. "do you really think i won't make sure you enjoy this, too?"
his answer comes in the form of a shaky exhale, his eyes fluttering shut when he feels your tongue lick up a stripe along the side of his dick.
"i thought so."
your lips wrap around him, pushing yourself down his length before moving back up again. you're excruciatingly slow, wet lips sliding along his skin and only taking a little of him as your tongue swirls around him just once.
number two: lando hates being teased.
it's something he avoids at all costs, which you learned early in your relationship. he'll give you a stern look and push your hand away when you reach for his thigh during a company dinner; he'll grab your hips to hold you still when you intentionally grind onto him as you sit in his lap; and when you text him revealing pictures when he's away doing something important, he'll turn off his phone rather than let it get to him. it all comes back to his hatred of not being in control – he wants to be the one to tease you, not the other way around. so when you get a chance to tease him and he can't do anything about it, you take it.
speeding up your actions is not something you even consider, and now that lando's hands aren't in your hair to usher you, you take your time. you do, however, push him further into you, letting him hit the back of your throat before pulling entirely off him. when you sink down on him again, he buckles his hips: his way of trying to retake control. your hands find his sides, holding him down as you slide off him, leaning back to look at him as a grin spreads across your lips. "impatient, are we?"
his eyes are scrunched up, head thrown back to show off his thick neck. his muscular chest is heaving for air, already, and his hands are still hanging sloppily from the ropes. you love to see him like this. so weak, so helpless. it's not often that you get to take in this sight, so you savor every second of it.
when he feels the bed rock, lando's eyes shoot open. he watches you climb up from the bed, standing right next to it as you slowly let the sleeves of your dress fall down your shoulders. he does not enjoy the moment as much as he wishes he would, because all he can think of is how much he wishes he was the one sliding the dress down your body; how much he wishes he was the one unclasping your bra; how much he wishes it was his hands dragging your soaked panties to the floor.
you move to straddle his lap, your hips hovering over his as you let his tip nudge your entrance. when you finally descend on him, he bottoms you out so perfectly. you press your hands to his chest, leaning your weight on him as you feel yourself getting stretched out.
if lando thought you were done with the teasing, he was very wrong. you rise from him painfully slowly, before going down just as slowly. when your hips meet his again, you stop for yet another moment, rolling down on him.
number three: lando hates not being able to control the pace.
he's used to driving cars at 300 km/h, for god's sake, so this slow motion-pace you're going at is not ideal for him. he doesn't always need to thrust in and out of you like you only have a minute left to live but regulating the pace is, according to him, one of the perks of being the boyfriend. but not today.
you find a rhythm, bouncing on him like you are in no hurry whatsoever. your lover's moans are muffled and he's seemingly doing his best to not let anything slip out. he doesn't want you to know how much he likes this, despite not being in control.
"don't hold back, baby," you say, thumbs stroking his skin encouragingly. "you're allowed to feel good even when i'm in charge."
and when he finally lets go, the sounds he makes are like music to your ears. his hearty groans send a shiver down your spine and you can't help but pick up the pace a little, needing to hear more. you want to pull every sound and twitch out of him, and if that means going faster, it's a change you're willing to make.
you feel the shudder passing through his body when you clench around him. you know he's close when his heels dig into the mattress and he thrusts into you, trying to make up for lost time. you're almost there, too, and the way you feel all of him pump into you turns your brain into mush.
your nails dig into his chest when you reach your climax, likely leaving indents in his skin. you continue riding him, helping him chase his high, your pulsating insides helping draw it out instantly. when you feel the spurts shooting into you, you collapse against him. he's twitching inside of you, his chest jumping with his breaths, and your fingers reach to brush along the side of his neck to help him come down from his high.
"okay, i'll admit," he starts, taking deep breaths between every word. "that was so fucking hot."
a giggle escapes past your lips, and you prop your chin up on his chest to look up at his face. "i knew it would be." you brush back his curls, freeing his glossy forehead. "thank you for trusting me."
his face is adorned by a soft smile, and it replicates on yours. "are you okay?" he asks, always so caring, and he lets out a breath when you nod.
number four, the most important one: lando hates being unable to hold you.
he hates not being in control of your well-being; he hates not being able to ensure you're okay. he hates not cupping your face in his palms, stroking your cheeks, pulling his fingers through your locks. so, it would be an understatement to say that he was ecstatic when you pulled yourself off him, sat down on his side and started working on undoing the ropes.
his skin shows off a burning red color, and it hasn't occurred to you yet how much he actually must've been itching to touch you. usually, when he ties you up, your skin gets a bit irritated too, sure. but it's not often this bad. "let me get you a lotion for your wrists," you say.
you're practically off the bed already when lando grabs your hand, dragging you onto him again. "later." he pulls your back to his chest and nuzzles his face into your hair, pressing a peck to your scalp. "just wanna hold you right now."
you shake your head at his antics, but take both of his hands into yours. you hold them up to your lips, giving him a few kisses around both of his wrists. "maybe that's better?"
"perfect." his voice is low, arms snaking around your waist to tug you closer. "i think they're completely fine now."
"let me at least get you something in the morning?"
"mmm. shush and sleep now."
and there it was, an order – back in control already. just like he should be.
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thespectralcottage · 5 months
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Witchcraft 101:
Cleansing vs Uncrossing vs Banishing
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Alright witches. Lets dive into some witchy basics and discuss the differences between cleansing, uncrossing and banishing. This will hopefully help you differentiate between them. But.. lets be honestly if you do something like call a spell an uncrossing when "technically" doing a banishing, who cares its all in good spirit. The reason i think its good to have a difference in mind between these falls into how you handle a spell. If I'm doing an uncrossing vs a banishing i would choose different spell ingredients, maybe work with different gods, or choose a different element to work with.
Cleansing: I consider cleansings as the foundation and most basic of these. Its almost an umbrella term the other two fall under. All banishings are cleansings, but not all cleansings are a banishing. Cleansings are when you're trying clear something away. Most often people will use this term in day to day workings and general upkeep to make sure nothing has stuck to them. This would include more casual things like smoke cleansing, showering and asking the water to cleanse you, sound cleansing, etc. Its not a full spellworking or ritual, but still done with energy and intention. Sometimes you may do a cleansing and realize whatever is there, is stuck deeper then you expected. So you take the next steps and do a more "intense" cleansing like an uncrossing or banishing.
Uncrossing Spells: Uncrossing specifically refers to removing unwanted energy. Usually when discussing what is an uncrossing, I sperate it from just a cleansing by describing it as a very intense cleansing where you're trying to strip away intense and specific energy. These are more work and a step up from an everyday cleansing for more intense scenarios. This is very spirit focused; think of it as taking out the bad and putting in the good. Some types of spells I would consider an uncrossing are: removing hexes/jinx/curses, removing the evil eye, spiritual detoxes, road openers, removing any stubborn energy, removing feelings, etc. I associate uncrossings with water: it's soaking in and getting that energy out. I would choose herbs/spell ingredients that are uplifting and purifying. Think salt, rosemary, rue, and lemons.
Banishing Spells: Banishing spells remove unwanted entities, spirits or people. You can use it to get rid of very deep rooted things like habits or insecurities. Banishings are quite a strong forms of spellwork. You're really kicking something out and away from you when you do a banishing. Its connected to more deep rooted things that you're trying to remove from your life. Some types of spells I could consider a banishing: cord cutting, exorcisms, banishing a spirit attached to you, getting rid of insecurities, freezers, etc. I associate banishings with fire. Burn and gtfo. I would choose herbs that have more of a kick to them and are defensive. Think nettle, blackberry leaves, cloves, even pepper in some cases.
Please note this doesn't have to be something strict. Like i said at the beginning this is just a guide that will help you differentiate so you can tackle the spellwork as effectively as possible.
✨Stay Spooky ✨
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I don't kiss and tell
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Little drabbles where creator!reader gets pregnant and the archons get into a witch hunt
Wc: ~600
Sumeru’s specialty tea is delicious, the lightest taste of anise and black tea with an array of spices that you couldn't even begin to pinpoint. The youngest archon besides you is talking your ear off about the origins and constitution of the tea, the exports it has and how it is different from the teas you tasted in Liyue. 
The only thing souring the atmosphere was the bickering and yelling voices from across the table
“Your dirty citizens are libertine enough to attempt to lie besides a god!” The electro archon points her finger at the anemo archon, her nose scrunched and her teeth bared
“Mine?! I doubt anyone would dare to! At most I imagine they wanted to be close friends!”
The tsaritsa rolls her eyes and mutters something along the lines of ‘very close friends it seems’
“You doubt? You don't sound too sure about that. I'm confident nobody from my nation would dare to make advances on them” zhongli blows on his cup and sips on it
“Didn't the trip get behind schedule around sumeru? I remember Neuvillette was stressed because the welcome had to be rearranged by a week” Furina grabs a piece of cake, playing with the cherry on top.
“ah?!” Nahida gasps as she is chatting with you. She taps her chin ”I can't remember a chance they had alone so I would say it's impossible”
“And why did the trip take an extra week? I was never truly sure about that” zhongli asks her 
“Oh, I was dead set on going to Aaru village and having a quick view to the pyramids” you chuckle a bit, seeing how nahida was upset at the accusations.
“Isn't it weird that Miss Furina is here too? Even if we named it archon meeting it's meant more as a head of state so I was expecting the great judge to be seated here” Raiden points that out
“E-eh?!” She gasps as she leans away from the purple piercing gaze “He was just unable to come so he asked me” 
“Isn't that convenient?”
The tsaritsa sighs and stops tapping her fingers on the wood table. Now looking at you she says “I'm sorry if it's too impolite but can't you cut us the chase and tell us who it was?”
You look away, a tiny strained laugh slipping through your teeth “I think I prefer his safety, thanks” 
“No, thank you”
“At the very least what nation is he from?” 
The next months there was special attention paid to particular carvings or newly acquired habits
“Isn't it curious how they are suddenly so in love with grape juice? Didn't your nation have a winemaker who preferred grape juice?” The tsaritsa asks, a stiff smile painted on her face.
“And didn't they also like a seafood soup that also happened to be one of your harbinger's specialties?” venti matches her energy, already fed up with the fourth accusation 
“Don't make me send someone to kick your ass again”
“I doubt a pile of ashes could put up much of a fight” 
“Our grace has been taking longer walks lately, buer, maybe they are trying to get closer to the dendro element” 
“they told me they wanted to feel the breeze better, that might be it, Beel”
“Why do I get dragged into every discussion?!” Venti yelps from the kitchen
“Doctor baizhu told me to keep an eye on them, the pregnancy seems to have made them crave rocks
“Isn't baizhu from Liyue, lord of Geo?” 
“And also ice cubes, tsaritsa. It reminds me, wasn't one of your harbingers also in Liyue at that time to close a deal with the Tianquan?”
“Why does everyone think is someone from my nation did it?!”
“Nation of freedom…”
“The biggest wine and sparkling wine importer…”
“You used your week to go bar hopping..”
“You are a weak and unimposing leader…”
“That part sounded more personal than anything!”
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shhhsecretsideblog · 19 days
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No Time To Hide
This was something I wrote for an Imagine You’re Pregnant prompt, original post here. Thought I’d make a side blog and post it here as well cos I really enjoyed writing this and might be tempted to write more birth fics
Eva opened the wooden window of her small cottage, letting the cool autumn air whip through her hair. The smell of woodland and damp grass filled her nostrils as she took a long, calming breath.
Describing herself as a green witch, Eva loved her little cottage hidden away from everyone deep within the rich forest. Coven life was never something that appealed to her; the idea of being constantly surrounded by other witches, their opinions and their magic, was torture for Eva. She much preferred her own company, free to live her life the way she wanted. Free to use her own style of magic, without the distraction or judgement of others. It was why she decided to live here in the heart of the forest. There was a river that flowed through the centre of the woodland, the ancient trees stood tall around her home, and the forest floor was packed with all manner of plant life. It was perfect; just her, the elements and Mother Nature.
Despite her preference of living alone, as time passed Eva began to yearn for something… it wasn’t romance or friendship, but the idea of a child. Children were never something she had considered, but as she grew older Eva had begun to see the benefit of having children. Someone to pass all her knowledge and wisdom to, someone to love and care for and share all that she’d learnt. She wanted to pass on this way of living, to create a legacy.
A few months ago, nine to be exact, she enchanted a local townsman - not that he would ever remember it. And now here she was, rocking side to side and cradling the underneath of her heavily pregnant stomach, preparing herself as birth drew near.
The cramps had started yesterday afternoon, small and barely noticeable at first. Eva had been terribly uncomfortable these last few weeks, suffering constant aches and twinges, so she did not immediately give them any thought. However when they got sharper and more frequent, forcing her to pause whatever she was doing, they soon got her full attention.
Not knowing how long this could take but knowing she would eventually lose mobily as her labour progressed, she collected all her preparations and got the supplies ready. Blankets, towels, sterilised medical equipment, all within easy reach in the main living room. Snacks and drinks lay available on the coffee table and a pot of hot water sat by the open fire keeping a constant warm temperature.
“Mmmnnngghhhhh” Eva moaned deeply as the latest wave peaked. She leaned forward resting her elbows on the window sill, jutting her hips back and swaying them slightly. The baby was low and heavy in her pelvis, the head pressing downwards as her body slowly opened up.
When the latest pain had eased Eva straightened and looked down at her swollen stomach, speaking lovingly towards her unborn babe. “You’re really coming aren’t you little one? I’ve not done this before so please take it easy on me.” Her child responded with a gentle kick prompting the witch to smile.
Over the next few hours Eva got into a good rhythm riding out the contractions, each one hitting sooner than the last and with incrementally more vigour. She paced, rocked, squatted, kneeled, trying to find any comfortable position to ride out the waves. Her low and heavy stomach made moving from position to position cumbersome; one hand staying on her bump or her lower back at any given time, while the other kept her supported on whatever furniture or surface was nearby.
As the contractions ramped up, creeping steadily towards unbearable, the witch’s teeth clenched tight and she growled behind them. Three minutes apart. Holding on to the back of her armchair Eva lowered herself into a deep squat. Sweat covered every inch of her body, her thin linen dress and underwear clinging to every curve of her fertile frame.
Her hips were in agony, the pressure building. She opened her mouth to wail but no sound came out, shocked into silence by a sudden burst between her open thighs. Immediately the pressure eased and Eva could catch her breath again. The wooden floor below her feet was soaked; her waters had broken.
“Oooooooh okay- We’re getting so close- Are you ready to come out now baby? I cannot wait to meet you.”
Eva stood up, cradling the curve of her spasming bump. Her bare feet stepped ungainly out of the puddle on the floor and she quickly threw a tea towel down to soak up the worst of it.
“It’s just you and me, little one. We can do this.” Eva reassured herself, rubbing circles around her swell, preparing for the intensity to soar now her waters had gone.
However, before the next contraction could strike the witch startled at the sudden loud interruption of ringing bells. Rapid and urgent, the piercing chimes echoed all around her cottage, howling through every room.
Witch hunter!
The enchantments set up around her hidden home in the forest hadn’t gone off in decades - she had almost forgotten the wards were still in place. And yet the incessant ringing immediately chilled her to her very bones, suddenly haunting her with long forgotten memories of the brutal murders of her fellow witches.
Her stomach clenched with a new, different sensation - fear. At any other time Eva would arm herself with weapons and potions and storm outside on the offence, making sure to take down her enemy before he had the opportunity to strike. But now… the pressing weight in her hips and the constant aching of her contracting womb showed she was in no position to attack, or even defend herself, if put up against a murderous witch hunter.
She had to get out of here. The warning bells throughout her home would soon reach the ears of the witch hunter and then he would beeline straight to her hidden sanctuary. She needed to find somewhere else to hide.
Distracted by the chimes, Eva was unprepared for the next contraction when it ripped across her body, rooting her to the spot. She doubled over in pain, palms planted firmly on her thighs.
“Unnnhhhhhhhhhhhh no-no-no-no……” she whimpered through strained breaths as the pain skyrocketed and her belly hardened. Panting heavily the witch ignored growing desire to bear down. Her waters had broken, she was probably almost fully dilated, if not already. But she couldn’t stay here. If she stayed, both her and her child would certainly be killed. She had to leave and find somewhere safe to deliver this baby.
After what felt like an eternity, the contraction finally faded and she bolted straight out the back door of her cottage, leaving barefoot with nothing but the clothes on her back. She had wasted precious minutes since the warning alarm riding out that last pain - she couldn’t afford to waste any more time gathering supplies to take with her. Eva took off as quickly as she could, disappearing deep into the lush green forest.
She barely got out of sight behind the first set of oak trees before another contraction was already upon her. Two minutes apart. Leaning against the rough bark of the nearest tree, Eva squeezed her eyes shut and tried hard to swallow the whimper creeping out her throat. The unbearable pressure was demanding in its silent request and her knees trembled with the effort of ignoring it. The baby was so heavy, and dangerously low. Feeling like it would just fall out if she took a step too wide. Yet she remained strong, persevering and weathering the storm in her uterus, determined to keep this baby inside of her until she got somewhere safe.
The second the pain let up an inch the witch was on the move again running as fast as she could across the forest floor. Over ferns and moss, rocks and fallen branches, thankfully the hardened soles of her bare feet were used to the uneven terrain. She made sure to keep off the main footpath and stayed hidden within the dense trees, but it made for more of an obstacle course than she’d like. With added weight of her labouring belly she couldn’t move at speed and on a few occasions nearly lost her balance. But deeper and deeper into the forest she went.
The trees became her allies, providing cover and support when she was forced to stop with each new powerful contraction… 90 seconds apart... 60 seconds apart. A large, ancient willow tree with an unusually curved trunk was the latest comrade in her fight for survival. Eva had pitched herself within the alcove of the trunk, out of sight and leaning back against the bark, lifting the weight of her hardened stomach with both hands. The long hanging branches brushed the forest floor in a circle around her position, hiding the witch behind a nature-made curtain.
“Grnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Eva could no longer hold in the animalistic sounds of her extremely advanced labour. The baby was right there, nestled deep in her widened cervix, desperate to be born.
“Nooooooooo-please-baby-wait-a-bit-moreeeeeee-” she begged through gritted teeth. The next contraction started before the current had even finished and the need to push was too powerful to refrain. Knees bending and thighs widening, Eva’s body pushed of its own accord.
It felt right, pushing. It was what she was meant to be doing - to follow nature's primal instinct. And yet she couldn’t forget the very real threat of the witch hunter, still hidden somewhere in this forest, poised and primed to kill her.
The fierce contraction continued to hold her hostage. A long grunt escaped her mouth as her body pushed along with the pain.
“I can hear you, witch!” A gravelled voice taunted from across the thick forest.
Eva’s eyes widened and immediately clamped her mouth shut, biting her lips together drawing blood. Half squatting against the tree, every muscle in her body continued to strain as it forced the baby lower and lower and lower. She couldn’t stop pushing even if she tried. One of the hands cradling her stomach shakily ventured south, lifting up her dress and feeling between her legs. Through the thin damp fabric of her underwear she could feel the baby’s head begin to enter the world.
She panted silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. The forest stretched out for miles, completely uninhabited in all directions; she was all alone. There was nowhere to go and no one to help. Heavily pregnant, being hunted, and seconds away from birthing this child.
A loud snap of wood echoed from a few metres away. Eva suddenly bolted like a startled deer, consumed entirely by fear and survival, and disappeared again into the thickened wood. She ran, wide legged, the heavy boulder of a baby’s head deep in her pelvis screaming to be born. Push! Her body cried out. Stop running and PUSH!
But she couldn’t. If she stopped she’d be dead.
Another contraction ripped through her as she ran. 30 seconds apart. Her muscles tensed and squeezed as she ran, her body trying to force the baby out despite the mother’s desire to hold on a bit longer. She could barely stay upright, the raw adrenaline no longer enough to keep this birth at bay. Her legs became jelly, all she could feel was pain and pressure and fear. Eva faltered, she couldn’t go any further. Out in the open she planted her hands against the nearest tree, widening her stance, and pushed. Hard.
“Mnnnnnnnrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!!!”
More of her baby’s head began to appear behind the fabric of her tight underwear.
“Ohhhhhhhhhh-Hecateeeeeeeeeeee!” she whimpered, praying to the deity.
Her baby was close to fully crowning, she could feel it. The white hot agony of being widened and stretched beyond anything she imagined made her eyes water and throat nauseous. She retched, a dry heave, and desperately tried to catch a breath through the dual need to push and the sudden urge to vomit. The texture of the rough bark beneath her palms was the only thing keeping the witch semi-grounded and preventing her getting swept away in the overwhelming sensations currently tearing her body apart. Still bracing the tree, Eva’s head dipped as she took slow deep breaths, ignoring the instinct to push in order to ride out the sudden nausea.
An ominous whistling sound drifted through the trees carried on the wind. Eva could barely hear it over the thundering beating of her heart, that is until she heard:
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The voice sang.
The witch hunter was close. But so was her baby... Eva felt between her legs again to evaluate just how bad her situation was. It was bad. Her underwear was stretched beyond repair as it housed a significant portion of her baby’s head, filling her cupped palm. Ignoring all the pain and her body’s pleas to push, she panted heavily and tried to think! She needed a plan to survive.
The witch hunter had physical strength, yes, but he did not know these woods like Eva did. This was her home, her sanctuary, and she knew every inch like the back of her hand. Beyond her laboured breaths and the unnerving whistling of the approaching witch hunter, Eva registered another sound nearby - the swooshing sound of running water. The river - she was by the river!
Lifting her head the witch frantically scanned the surrounding area, getting her bearings of where she’d ended up within the woodland. She was a few hundred yards from the river’s edge, about a mile from her cottage. It wasn’t an area she often visited because of…. That’s it! Okay, it wasn’t a great plan, and there was no way to know if it would work, but it was her only shot of survival.
She took a steadying breath through the current contraction squeezing her womb, fighting once more against the primal need to push. The baby’s head filled her underwear, millimetres from a full crown. If she pushed again there was no way she’d be able to stop until the head was fully born.
Whimpering through the pain Eva stood up straight, one hand staying between her legs, and she prepared herself to move. Just get to the river. She told herself before making her way unsteadily east.
The sound of rushing water grew louder as she stumbled slowly through the forest. One step. Another step. Nearly there. She knew exactly where to go, and where to avoid, desperately trying to stay focussed on her surroundings and not succumb to the agonising pain crowning between her thighs. Keep going.
“You can’t escape me, witch!” The voice threatened, getting closer.
Eva stumbled into the side of a tree, her bare shoulder scraping against the bark. Pausing, she took a brief moment to breathe through the pain. It was a mistake. The second she stopped to inhale deeply her body started bearing down again, forcing the baby down. Immediately the head came to a full crown in her damp underwear and she screamed.
“WITCH!” The murderous voice roared.
Eva turned and saw a flash of black leather through the distant trees, and it was coming her way. Cupping the baby’s head she tentatively wobbled forwards, knees trembling, staggering towards the riverbank. The blinding pain was constant, her eyes barely focussing. She had to make it to the exact right spot or her plan would certainly fail. Her footsteps were shaky but determined as she continued the last few carefully placed steps in her journey. Behind her the crunching sound of a disturbed forest floor drew ever closer.
Reaching the river’s edge Eva collapsed against the large boulder that sat on the grassy bank. She made it. Turning around against the stone, the cold granite pressed against her back as she faced the woods and waited for the imminent arrival of the witch hunter. But the baby’s head inched lower, her body stretched to its absolute limit. She wanted to cry, to howl, to scream. Instead she focussed inward, drawing on all the power from the earth under her feet, and taking a deep breath she finally, and intentionally, followed her body’s demands. Teeth gritted, a growl behind them, she pushed with everything she had. Her whole body trembled, bearing down against the pressure of the large round head slowly appearing between her thighs. The ears… a nose… she could feel it all. Her hands frantically scrambled under her dress and within seconds the baby’s head popped out into her underwear and she cupped it quickly within her palm. The relief was instant and for a brief moment Eva’s heart calmed as she held her child’s newly born crown.
The witch’s reprieve was short-lived as the approaching footsteps from behind one of the nearby trees resulted in another person soon entering the river's edge. The witch hunter was dark haired, full beard, but was not as athletic as Eva was expecting. There was sweat glistening on his temple and dripping down his neck, disappearing beneath a thick leather jacket. His mouth practically drooled at the sight of her and he gripped the long hunting knife in his hand. The lust for her death was haunting.
“At last… you’ve given it a good go, I’ll give you that, but you cannot escape your fate.” The man said as he took a step towards her, threateningly swishing the knife in readiness. “You are an abomination, evil incarnate. Witchcraft has no place here. My family has been taking your lot out for centuries. And it looks like I get the honour of not only killing you… but the next generation as well.” He glared at her pregnant swell.
“No- no! This- this child is innocent…” Eva panted, still holding the head of her half-born babe hidden under the draped fabric of her dress.
The witch hunter scoffed and took another two ominous steps in her direction through the fallen autumn leaves. Eva watched each step with a laser focus.
“No descendant of a witch is truly innocent.” He drawled, tilting his head with an unnerving animalistic incline. “Wickedness will run through its veins, there is no saving its soul.”
Eva couldn’t take her eyes off his feet, watching every step he took. She chose this location for a reason, knowing she needed to end up exactly here by the rivers edge - dangerously using herself as bait. His heavy boots crunched through the orange leaves, sauntering slowly towards her like he was toying with his prey. So close. Her heart stopped, breath held as Eva prayed to all the Goddesses for her plan to work. Then whoosh!
The witch hunter was suddenly hoisted in the air by his foot, caught in a primitive trap laid here many years ago by the previous inhabitants of these woods, whom were long dead and forgotten. The man roared as he was pulled sharply towards the sky, his arms flailing, the hunting knife falling from his hand in his shock.
Eva exhaled heavily and closed her eyes in pure relief. The steady thumping of heart pulsed around her body, beating once more now the immediate threat disappeared. The man yelled and shouted at her as he hung limply from the tree, but the sound barely registered with the witch. Her senses had been overtaken by the sudden movement of the baby, turning inside her, and an all too familiar urgent weight pressing down signalling her work was not yet over.
Eva tried to move but she was too far gone, too deep in labour, every muscle seemingly locked in position. “Unhhhhhhhh Hecate….. mnnnggghhhhh the baby- the baby is comingg…..” she whimpered, the pain splitting her in half as she was stretched once more with the baby’s shoulders. All her bodyweight was pressed back against the boulder, and she managed to sink towards the ground. Squatting deeply, her large rounded stomach rested heavily between her thighs.
“Ohhhh it’s coming…. I- need… mnghhhhhhhh I’ve got to… got to pushh...”
She ripped off her underwear as the next contraction started, freeing the baby’s head from the confines of the damp linen. With both hands ready to catch, the witch pushed with renewed determination. “Urghhhhhhhhhhhh!” One shoulder was out! Then the next shoulder. She took a breath, panting, holding the child dangling from her body. Eva became suddenly hyper-aware of the breeze and leaves, the nearby river and the crisp autumn air, all the elements surrounding them which her child was now being born directly into. Trembling, she beared down fiercely once more and within another few minutes a newly born witch entered the world.
Eva sobbed with relief, quickly pulling her daughter up over her stomach and placing her against her chest. The infant made a soft gurgling sound, her first breath, and then started to cry. To a new mother it was the most beautiful and reassuring sound in the world.
“Disgusting…. Filthy little vermin.” The witch hunter sneered with venom.
Eva had forgotten her audience and looked up with hatred at the man still swinging upside down from the tree. She held her baby tight and secure against her skin, as if shielding the child from the mere sight of him.
“You should drown that thing in the river.” He spat.
Red, blinding fury overwhelmed the new mother. With the pain gone and her baby safe in arms, pure fury raced through every pore of the witch’s body, consuming every atom of her being. Rising slowly, babe still clutched in hand, Eva approached the hanging man with eyes glowing with revenge.
“When I get free, I'm gonna enjoy splitting you from ear to ear!” He roared.
Her head tilted in observation watching the man’s disgusting arrogance in his determination to kill her despite still struggling against the rope binding his leg. Apparently unaware his threats were idle and his attempts to escape the trap were futile.
The witch bent down carefully to pick up the large silver blade that had fallen amongst the browning leaves. The man didn’t see the new mother pick up his weapon, and didn't notice the switch when the hunted became the hunter. Eva stalked silently, murderously towards the hanging man.
Before he could open his mouth to mock or belittle or challenge her, Eva’s hand swished past his vision in a flash, the blade gliding through the witch hunter's throat like a knife through butter. The man’s eyes widened, taking a heartbeat to register what just happened, before the cascade of blood erupted from the open wound and he began to choke and splutter.
Eva dropped the knife.
Delicately readjusting and shhhing the newborn cradled in her arm, she took one final look and started their journey back to the cottage. Eva found comfort in the sounds of the forest; of the flowing river, the whistle of a breeze, and the drip drip dripping of her enemies blood now pooling onto the forest floor.
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wandasaura · 5 months
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— A PROMISE
summary — when you wake up alone, the only place you want to land is in the arms of your lovers
warning(s) — alludes to ageplay elements, soft girlfriends wandanat, russian accent natty bc i’m soft for her, just pure domestic fluff, little dove universe
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♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
Some of the best things that had happened to you, had happened by mistake. You were never supposed to be in Manhattan the night an alien ship crash landed on Earth and wreaked havoc on that small strip for almost two hours, but you’d taken the wrong subway and wandered around aimlessly until you found a cafe you recognized. Unfortunately for you, that mistake put you right in the center of alien warfare. Fortunately for you, it also put you right into the arms of a redheaded Avengers with a haunted past.
Things hadn’t been the same after that. It was almost like whatever you did, wherever you went, fate decided to step in and put you right in her path. If you were at a local market, so was she. If you were stranded on a subway platform after missing your train, so was she. You knew she had a girlfriend, everyone knew of Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff's epic love story, but somehow you weren’t surprised when she asked you out for coffee after three weeks of spontaneous meetings. In such a big city, it was almost cliche to deny the possibility of something more being just at your fingertips when you kept meeting.
That coffee date turned out to be the best mistake of your life. And, six months later, you found yourself in the center of an epic love story that you somehow had the honor of calling your own. It wasn’t traditional by any means, and it wasn’t always perfect, but it was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you reminded yourself of that every single day. Though it wasn’t like you could forget it even if you tried.
Waking up alone was an unusual way to start your day ever since moving in with Wanda and Natasha. Your girlfriends were early risers, they often jostled you awake as they tried to slip out of bed, but on the days when they didn’t, you always woke up to at least one of them cuddling close to your warm body, trying to catch a few more hours of peace after a workout. Today was different, and something inside of you felt different as well. Without them next to you, it felt like something was missing from your heart, and you wanted to burst into tears just because Wanda’s side of the bed was cold to the touch and her blanket was rustled and messy.
Sniffling, you throw your legs over the side of the bed, shivering when the cold floor shot sparks up through your bones. Your pajamas were only thin, the intense heatwave that had settled overtop of New York City keeping you from your traditional fuzzy pants and stolen hoodie, but it seemed to be cooler today, the air in the room not so thick with heat like it had been. That small victory still didn’t quell your sadness however, as you sought after your girlfriends, desperate to feel the warmth of their love in any capacity they’d allow.
Their accented voices carry from somewhere down the hallway, and the closer you came to finding them, the easier it became to recognize the sweet aroma of your favorite homemade breakfast being cooked in the kitchen. The thought of Wanda’s famous waffles brought a smile to your tired lips, easing away some of your distress.
No matter how quiet your footsteps were as you padded down the hall and around the corners that jumped out at you no thanks to your sleepy eyes, you never quite managed to sneak up on either of your doting girlfriends. When one was a former assassin and the other was a witch with telepathic abilities, surprises were almost impossible to pull off without help from the other, so it was no surprise that before you could even step foot into the kitchen fully, Natasha was spinning around to greet you with a soft smile and warm eyes.
That impossibly heavy feeling in your belly amplified tenfold seeing her soft body just out of reach and pressed up against the counter casually, like she was unaware of the domestic dominance she radiated by just being in the room. The sadness in your eyes wasn’t lost on her as she drank in the sight of you so sleepy and innocent in only Wanda’s stolen sleepware, and that charming smile on her lips slowly sank into a pout. “What’s wrong, baby?” The slightest lisp of Russian coated her words as they filled the kitchen, warm and heavy on your skin as they sank into your bones and made your muscles weak. Her accent only ever came out in moments like this, when it was just you and Wanda around to hear — where she knew it was safe to let her guard down — and selfishly you adored it. You adored knowing that she showed you every part of herself.
The fog in your mind was laeden, and subsequently made your words feel impossible to find despite your efforts, the only thought that was clear to you in that moment was getting to her, and finally being in her arms. Ignoring her question, you let your feet lead the way to her awaiting body, sinking into her chest once you were close enough to reach it. Her muscular arms wrapped around your midsection tightly, one calloused palm cradling the back of your head as you dug your face into the darkest spot of her neck.
Natasha looked down at you fleetingly, soaking up the delicacy of your touch, before glancing over at Wanda for any enlightenment she could offer. The younger redhead had noticed your odd disposition the moment you stepped into the room, your typically boisterous and infectious energy worryingly depleted and rubbing at her magic in a way she couldn’t ignore. She hated prying into your emotions, hated how gross it made her feel inside knowing she didn’t have permission to be snooping around in your thoughts, but some things couldn’t be helped when your energy was so violently projecting feelings of distress, and it didn’t seem like you’d be giving her or Natasha any verbal indication of a problem anytime soon.
The deepest shade of scarlet overtook her eyes as she let herself be immersed into your inner monologue, head tilting as she searched through your scrambled brain. She couldn’t help herself from cooing when she found the root of the problem, immediately drawing herself out once she felt content to go from what she now knew. That high pitch sound caught your attention, and desperately you peeked out from Natasha’s neck, looking at her with the most spaced out doe eyes she’d ever seen.
Dropping the dish towel she’d been using to wipe her hands with, Wanda joined you at Natasha’s front, laying a heavy hand on the center of your back, letting you feel her warmth through the thin shirt you had on, while her other brushed strands of hair out of your eyes. “You just missed us, huh, dove? Woke up all alone.” She cooed softly, leaning in just close enough to lay a featherlight kiss on your hairline, pulling away all too soon for your liking, your high pitched whine an automatic response that she immediately shushed. You’d never felt like this before, never felt so dependent on their attention and affection, but you didn’t hate the warmth that spread through your entire body from just seeing them smile at you. It felt so simple but so deeply healing.
Wanda didn’t have much insight to where your head was at, but she wasn’t completely oblivious either, unlike Natasha who looked entirely unsure of how to proceed with you so pliable in her arms. The scarlet headed woman laughed softly at your girlfriends expense, unbothered by your sudden dependability, drawing patterns on your back with light touches of her fingertips to quell your rising dismay for her not giving you another kiss. “You’re so sweet, golub’. Looking at me with those pretty big eyes. Why don’t you and Talia find a good place to enjoy our breakfast while I finish up. I’m making your favorite.”
Wanda met Natasha’s gaze, eyes flashing scarlet as she opened the line for mental communication. They hardly ever spoke this way in front of you, the entire structure of your relationship built on trust and open communication, but Wanda knew this was sensitive for both of you, and she in your current state, she didn’t want to run the risk of upsetting or embarrassing you. She wasn’t even sure you were entirely aware of what was going on. When you realized they were talking without you, a dissatisfied whine came from high in your throat, needy hands pulling at the neckline of Natasha’s shirt to capture her attention for yourself.
Wanda didn’t hesitate to put an end to your pleading, an amused laugh coming from her chest as she kept her eyes on Natasha’s, only offering you a gentle pat on the back. Natasha closed her palm around your fist, keeping her skin heavy on yours as she absorbed all that Wanda was telling her. “Oh, I know you want all the attention on you. Poor baby.” Wanda laughed once she closed the communication line, casting her eyes downward until she met the sweet pout on your cherry red lips.
Kissing your frown away tenderly, she quickly sent you and Natasha on your way out of the kitchen, not wanting you anywhere near open flames and hot burners when your mind was so hazy. Something had changed within your dynamic that day, you just hadn’t realized it yet, but your girls would get you through it. That was a promise.
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galaxybooper · 2 months
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The legend, the greatest of all time, Vincent Tong has answered three questions. After being granted permission, I happily yeet this post into the fandom. I want to note that the questions and answers are copied directly from the Cameo DM. There is no rewording. The more personalized question is hidden below for those who are not interested. Enjoy!
Question: "My first question is what do you think Kai would wear when he's not in his ninja gi? I know during the show we have some outfits Kai wears but as the voice actor, I wanted to ask what is your take on Kai's fashion style?"
Answer: "That’s a good question. Since Kai fancies himself as a ladies man, he is very aware when he’s out and about town. I can see him being very colour coordinated, in red of course, in case anyone isn’t aware he’s the elemental master of Fire 🔥 For casual wear he would rock a red tracksuit with with a sleeveless hoodie, to show off his muscles of course. And if he was to dress up a bit, I could see him wearing a sparkle red suit that would change colour if heated it up by his fire powers!"
Question: "My next question is about the scar on his right eye. My apologies if you have already answered this question before during a Q&A but I am curious. Do you have any takes on how Kai got that scar or why he has that bandage too? Is it another scar? And did Kai always have this scar or did something happen before the events of the Sons of Garmadon season that caused the scars?"
Answer: "My answer to this is kinda lame, cause I actually was never told the origins of the scar. I think it was a design decision to make Kai stand out. But if I had to create a story: He was going pee in the middle of the night and hit head on the bunk bed Nya and him shared as kids. But he would never admit that to anyone. He’d say he got it from defending a poor street dog from other giant bully streets dogs. Kai walked away with a scar but those street dogs walked away with greatest lesson of all: You play with Fi-yah, you’re gonna get burned 🔥🔥"
Question: "My last question right now for you is this. You mentioned before Ariel was your first crush as a kid. If Kai ever met Ariel, what would that interaction look like? What would Kai think of Ariel?"
Answer: "Oooo good question! Well Kai would right away blush so hard seeing Ariel. His hair might even catch fire a bit, cause she’s so pretty! And she would point out that both their hair is red🔥🤭 He would use a cheesy line like ‘Whoa are those fins, cause you’ve been swimming around my mind all day!’ Ariel can’t talk cuz of that mean sea witch, but she would giggle silently at Kai trying so hard to be cool! I think they would prob hang out eating ice cream to help him cool off. He would try to make Ariel laugh and anything she did would just make him blush more ☺️ I think they would make a great pair! 💕💕🧜‍♀️🔥"
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asha-mage · 7 months
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I feel like I am going to be having random WoT Finale thoughts for the next six months, but one I especially want to hit up now:
The actual logistics of the Whitecloak attack on Falme, from the military tactics to the geo politics of it all are so perfectly on point that it's like something Jordan would have written himself.
In the books the Whitecloaks are on Tomon Head for unrelated reasons to the Seanchan (ones that would be hard to establish properly in a tv format where we don't have the time to follow Bornhold Sr for six odd scenes), so the show runners shifted it so that they are explicitly answering a call for aid from a foreign throne. The Whitecloaks are a autonomous military body beholden to no nation that operates with pseudo-legality in most places that are not under their influence, and the idea of expanding that influence to another nation is far to tempting to resist, especially when no other power is answering the Falme's call for aid, including the White Tower, who are the Whitecloak's primary rival. On principles it seems like they are stepping up to help a victimized nation that the 'witches' have abandoned, or even orchestrated the fall of.
And then on a practical level, the actual tactics they employ are fiendishly clever. Using incense burners to create a fog to hide their approach and blunt the effectiveness of the enemy channelers (who need to be able to see something to target their weaves). This also makes sense on a world building level- the Whitecloaks probably have a dozen tactics in their back pockets to deal with an outright war against the Aes Sedai if it ever breaks out. Then once the Whitecloaks close up to the walls, they send in their cavalry first, to overwhelm enemy defenses before they can get the gates shut, then send in the infantry to secure and pacify the remaining resistance not taken out by the shock charge. At this point the Seanchan have to focus their fighting to the streets of Falme, and the best way to do that is to gather their damane on the nearby tower and rain down artillery fire in an attempt to break the Whitecloaks into retreat- a brutal strategy likely to result in the deaths of their own troops and civilians, but necessary if they are going to have any hope of holding the city.
And then is where things get INSANE. See, conventional medieval military wisdom dictates that in a situation where the gates are breached already siege engines have no use. Their too clumsy, taking to much time to aim and fire to be much use in a melee brawl like this. Siege engines are useful for breaking fortifications, toppling walls, etc, so if used offensively almost always come out first. That means that no one is expecting them to roll out of that fog and hurl stones at the damane's position. In one strike Bornhold Senior decapitates the enemy's primary advantage over him and tilts the battle in his favor. (And even if the damane had managed to counter the strike, they would be weakened significantly, having to focus on blocking further attacks and counter attacking the siege engines- not easy with the fog- instead of keeping the fighting in the streets under control).
This might be one of those things that only I care about, but good employment of medieval military tactics combined with magical fantasy elements always makes me go
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ghouljams · 9 months
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I want something to spook witch really bad to the point where Price finds her curled up in a corner and just fucking picks her up and holds her and soothes her. And she just melts into him and has a moment where she feels safe in his arms but then has to deal with the fact that that goes against everything she believes. I love this slow burn, I don’t want them to fuck I just want them to cuddle a little bit, or for price to just cup her face in his big hands and look into her eyes and realize he doesn’t even care about getting tethers in her, he just wants to be near her. I’m so normal about them.
I'm so normal about them and I absolutely haven't read this one hundred times just thinking about Price and Witch being soft with each other. Sorry to the anons that want them to fuck, I want them to be unendingly tender with each other.
I want Price to be so familiar with Witch and her workings that he can pluck out her herbs before she even asks for them. Price sitting at the kitchen table and watching her work because he loves seeing his Witch in her element. I want him to loop an arm around her shoulders without thinking when she sits down next to him. So that Witch never worries if she's being too clingy when she leans against his side and drapes her legs over his lap. I want them to look at each other and know that's their person. Anyway I love you here's some words from further in their relationship:
There aren't many things that scare you. Witchcraft sort of necessitates that you maintain a healthy respect for the things that should make you cry in terror. So when you do get scared, you're never quite sure how to handle it. You know the basics of the responses: fight, flight, freeze, fawn, it's the execution you're never sure of.
You're actually glad you don't have the sight when you feel it walk past you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up at the daunting pressure the creature exudes. Your eyes dart up as if it might be walking by undisguised. You step to the side, to let it pass, your hand flying to grip one of Price's tethers. The man that passes you is only slightly smaller than your first glance, his face covered with what you assume is Mal's work the way your perception slides off of it. You can feel the danger of him, the predatory sweep of his eyes, you feel like a hapless civilian in Jurassic park watching a t-res walk by you.
His head tilts curiously at you, his walk only paused to assess whatever danger your attention might hold. The tether buzzes warm and insistent against your hold, you drop it quickly when the creature's eyes move to see what you'd been gripping so tightly. You think that might have been a mistake, drawing attention to your magic when fae are around is always a mistake.
The teeth on this thing, you hardly need your hagstone to see them. The hungry aggression in its eyes is enough to let you glimpse the dangerous spines that run down its back, to feel the swing of its tail and hear the crack of its claws. You're pulled back against the familiar tobacco scent of Price as a voice asks,
"König? What's wrong?"
Price's arm wraps around your shoulders, and you turn into his grip, not proud of the way you hide from this monster. It doesn't matter, Price doesn't care if you hide, you know that. That's why you can turn your back to such an overpowering threat, and how you know with absolute surety that you're safe in Price's hold.
"So this is where you've been hiding," You can feel the suppressed growl in Price's chest where you press close, the feigned politeness.
"Price," The fae, König you suppose, greets. You don't know if the voice really fits the monster, that helps to soften some of your fear. "I know your shadow is in the city, I should have assumed you would be too."
"Just for business." Price tells him.
"Business," König sounds out the word, like he doesn't believe him, "what business?"
"Are you scaring people again?" The same voice from before, closer now, "Goddammit." The overpowering presence seems to rush out of the air, intimidation melting away to give room for something softer. Now it's Price's turn to tense. You turn your head to peak at the overgrown fae, and the woman chastising him. König seems much less scary when he's got his shoulders scrunched up and his head hung low.
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writers-potion · 2 months
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🧦☕🧸A Guide to Writing Cozy Fantasy
Check out my masterpost for more tips :)
What is "cozy fantasy"? 🧺🪵
Cozy fantasy is a subgenre that is characterized by a more everyday approach to fantasy.
While its definition is not as clear-cut (everyone will have a sightly different idea of what it needs to look like), there are some general approaches to writing in this subgenre.
Elements of Cozy Fantasy 🕯️ೀ
A comforting, healing ambience 🍪
Rather than bloody battle and cunning witches, we have our next door wizard baker chumming up his special pumpkin pie.
Every magical book at their deepest core evoke a healing quality, but for these cozy novels, this warm element takes control.
2. "Kindness” and ‘gentleness” tropes 🍂
Found family/community, a sense of togetherness
Kind hearted protangoists
Plots gull of joy, hope or happy endings. Give your readers reassurance that everything will work out. And they do.
Ambience woven in the worldbuilding that gets the reader intitamely close to the world
Slower pace, allow the reader to delve into the story world and build stake in these kind, loving characters.
Slice of life: provide personal insight into the character’s “mundane” lives. 
The plot must take this "happy" nad kind" element as the MAIN theme. Every book provides catharsis at the end, but if the process if filled with dark, dangerous adventures, that's not cozy at all!
3. Cozy doesn’t mean “no/low stake” 📖
No novel would be interesting without conflict and some kind of loss.
Think of “personal” stakes. Cozy fantasy can be grand adventures, quiet magical quests, fairytales or healing slice of life stories.
For example, the protagonist can develop new relationship around town and figure out her passion to express the theme of importance of enduring. 
4. Generally slower pace, focusing more on the inner development of the protagonist and the main side characters.
Cozy Fantasy Starter Recommendations 🎧🌙
Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree
The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches by Sangu Mandanna
Can't Spell Treason Without Tea by Rebecca Thorne
The House in the Cerulean Sea by T.J.Klune
Bookshops & Bonedust by Travie Baldree
Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett
Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones
If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸
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emsartwork · 6 months
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the elemental witches are finally done with the air edition; Winduri!
Lore and design notes below!
So just like the Harpix quest a witch looking to become a Windury has to obtain a Harpix feather through one of the challenges and present it to the source of Harpix. Unlike fairies however, witches usually work more closely with the elemental companions of each quest (in this case the sylphs). Witches need a gift from their elemental companions to add to their uniform in order to handle the ethereal power bestowed by the elemental quests. Witches becoming Winduri get a Sylph's egg talon. These are the small claws that develop on a sylph's thumb in the egg as a help to crack the egg to get out (like a chicken's egg tooth). They usually fall off soon after hatching but are kept as a memento by sylph families. They lend a drop of Endless Storm magic for the witch to build on. The elemental witch forms still influence the witch’s biology, so here Lucy, who has strong Harpy heritage has very large wings, feathered ears and a feather tail in addition to stronger talons on her feet. Icy is also strongly aligned with the air element biologically and has facial/ear feathers.
The look of the Winduri's uniforms are often similar to whatever the Witch’s already existent uniform is based on, but it’s not a one to one. The wings in this form have small talons on the wings' thumb joints. The uniform also features wrappings on the legs/feet, a sleeveless shirt and the harpix feathers displayed somewhere on the outfit. There are swirling trails of wind attached somewhere near the harpix feathers that will drape around the witch like cloth. The patterns of witch's wings often mimic real birds, fairies in harpix are often less based on reality. in specific, the trix are all based on owls, Icy is based on a Snowy Owl, Stormy on a Great Horned Owl and Darcy on a Barn Owl (becuase even tho i love them barn owls are the creepiest lmao). Lucy is based on a swan because I love to include little ballet references in her designs (swan lake), and Selina is based on a Crow!
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prose-for-hire · 11 months
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High Stakes
Pairing: Spike x witch!reader (gn)
Request: I was wondering about maybe one where spike and reader are in a relationship like a really healthy one and he is completely in love them but the scooby gang ask them to do some really big draining spell because they are more powerful witch then willow and like reader starts to panic once leaving the magic box with spike and he is super concerned and like they start to have a panic attack and he immediately starts calming them down and looking after them and it’s just really fluffy and angsty.
Requested by: @witchb1tches
Warning: Reader has a panic attack. Crying. 
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There was a storm brewing. The sky was dark but only you could feel it. You were at one with the elements. A powerful sorcerer who had unfathomable power. As you waled briskly through the streets, your hands laced with Spike’s, you tried to push down your anxieties and focus on the feeling of his hand in yours.
You and Spike had been together for years. He adored you with ever fibre of his being and you matched his love in every way. It was a love that others only dreamed of. You had met at a demon bar one evening and in attempting to impress you, Spike had picked a fight with half of the bar. When he got in trouble and they all tried to jump him at once, you stood up raised your hand, making the entire crowd slam into the back wall of the bar as if shoved by an invisible force.
Spike had just stared, mouth wide open as you winked and left him in the bar, saying your goodbyes. Although you didn’t agree with love at first sight, the ground started humming and the breeze that whistled through your ears on the way home telling you that you had met the one. You waited though, to see if he would make the first move. To test if it really was fate.
You had run into each other several times after that and after getting over the fact that you were friends with the Slayer, he built up the courage to ask you on an actual date. He had even brought flowers that looked suspiciously like they had been swiped from a nearby grave. He had been rather bashful and it had been incredibly endearing, you only understood later on why he was so nervous of rejection.
You had been laying in bed when you got the SOS message from Xander. Some big evil this or some creepy spell that. You knew you had to come as fast as you could and your vampire insisted he was only coming to try and score a nip of blood, but you knew him better than that.
“Don’t know why they think you’re at their every bleedin’ beck and call” Spike had been sulking the entire way there, his unlit cigarette bobbing from his mouth as he spoke. He mostly did it to see you smile, he was very fond of your smile. He did this, especially when he sensed that you were feeling tense about something.
“Spike, it’s the end of the world, we can’t just hold each other and wait for it to get us”
“If it was the end of the world, we’d be doin’ more than cuddlin’. That I can tell you, pet” he pointed at you, his cigarette between his fingers as a curl of smoke escaped his smirk. You rolled your eyes and pushed him playfully as you walked.
“I have power, it would be wrong not to do something to help”
“No, what’s wrong is callin’ up a vampire in the middle of the afternoon while he’s trying to sleep! Apocalypses are ten-to-the-bloody-dozen ‘round here, we could have finished our nap and still caught the next one, I wager”
“That may be true, but-” You started to defend your younger friends and Giles, but that was when you sensed it. The coming storm had distracted you but now you saw it. The Magic Box was ablaze, green fire licked the building and what looked like a tornado inside the store fanned the flames.
You ran straight into the fire, with Spike trying to pull you back. You shot him a meaningful look, your intentions sending your thoughts and reasons into his own head. He nodded, understanding, the fire was magically suspended, something (probably Willow and Tara) was working against the damage.
When you both arrived, Spike had a hand firmly on your waist, he knew that in this sort of fight, you were the one that was doing the protecting. He was man enough to admit that. But it didn’t stop him wanting to ensure that you were by his side. Safe from harm’s way.
The scene was pure chaos, and not in a nice, neat, easy-to-calm way. You had ceased many of those for your friends before. This one was different. An invisible tornado had whipped up around the store, the noise was so loud it was near impossible to hear yourself think. Anya was trying to hold down anything valuable from getting more broken while Giles and Willow were screaming incantations over the din.
“No bloody way” Spike muttered, taking you hand and trying to lead you out again. There was no sodding, buggering, bloody way that you two were getting involved in this one. The slayer and her little friends could fry for all he cared. Just so long as it didn’t involve you.
Buffy was trying to fight the air around her, with Xander on back up, as some force kept attacking the two that were trying to reduce the amount of fire that threatened to consume them.
That was when you saw it. In the centre of the room, the eye of the tornado.
“Th-that book…” You said softly. You knew that book, you could feel the ancient power rolling off it. Humans couldn’t touch that book unless they were powerful enough to withstand it’s hold on their souls.
And seemingly, Tara had touched it. She was suspended in the corner of the room, eyes black and her hair to match. She was a good witch, but not powerful enough to withstand something like that. You weren’t even sure that you were.
How had they found it? Why was it here?
No wonder the world was ending. One chapter, no one sentence even, from that book spoken aloud by someone that didn’t know what to do with it and the whole fabric of this dimension, and many others, would tear and scatter until it was no more.
That book was supposed to be suspended in a hell dimension and, you later found out, Willow had received it as a Birthday gift from an unnamed admirer.
“Y/n, we need to do this, now!” Buffy shouted over the noise. It was a lot worse than you had expected. Time was speeding up, lives were in danger and the whole thing seemed to be resting on you. You wavered, the others couldn’t see it over all the chaos. But he could. Your Spike. Your protector. He was the only thing that could ground you.
“Piss off, would you! You saw what happened to them last time” Spike stepped up to the Slayer menacingly, his leather duster whipping around him in the artificial wind. He cared about you, deeply, none of your friends could deny it. He was worried about you, doing so many spells for them he thought they took it for granted that you could just bounce back and be fine. He told them as much whilst simultaneously throwing a few punches at this invisible being that was trying to fight the room.
You were stood there, seemingly daydreaming as you stood still as the mayhem raged around you, just staring at the book.
“Y/n, the stakes are high, are you, ah, able to do this?” Giles asked, pausing from chanting as he realised that you were now using your own power to hold off the fire.
“We don’t use that word in our house, stakes that is. What with the whole burning at the stake bit” Spike cut in, throwing a punch and overbalancing when it didn’t connect with anything. He managed to style it out, rolling and landing back onto his feet.
“And the dusty vampire thing” You agreed distractedly, pressing your lips against his as he got up from the floor beside you.
“Yes, yes, well? Are you able to do it?” Giles was growing impatient with the man that was always so close by your side. Both Giles and you knew what you had to do. It was something that no other could do. If you didn’t do this, Buffy would never be able to get the upper hand. You may all perish in an instant.
“I can stop time, isolating it so that Buffy can still move will, uh, take a lot… But, luckily for you I am blessed with a lot of power” You insisted, feeling their resolves falter slightly. Buffy had never faced anything like this before. The Hellmouth opening was nothing compared to complete obliteration of dimensions.
The way your power works, you would be pushing against time whilst also pulling Buffy into the present with you. Shifting more than yourself was known to be near-impossible when stopping time. You had done it once before but it had taken a lot out of you.
Spike stayed stood by your side in all of this, only fending off anything that came towards you now. You nodded at him gently, he was always in awe of you, but more so every day.
It was a lot of pressure and the responsibility was crushing. But you persevered, Spike nodding by your side, giving his unending support without even having to say a word. You took a breath, closed your eyes and raised your arms, chanting rapidly.
You did it. When you opened your eyes time had stopped, your love frozen by your side. 
Buffy nodded at you, able to move as you held the very threads of time together. It was already taking a toll on your body. It was like you were hanging over the edge of the universe, grip so tight that your knuckles whitened, grimace on your face as you tried to stop everything from tipping into nothingness.
You stopped time long enough for Buffy to decloak the invisible force, the Slayer was already weakened from the earlier fight but managed to kill the demon that had emerged from the book. It bled profusely, spraying the floor with an orange goo.
“Don’t- not on the book!” You screamed, if any demon blood got on that book literally anything could happen. But none of it good.
With one final flourish, Buffy managed to slay the demon and take its weapon, a long staff that had been invisible until now that was needed to return Tara back to them.
While you were watching her, you were hurting, aching all over, you couldn’t hold it any longer. While Buffy finished, you had a spinning wheel of dimensions in your mind and you dropped the book into nearest Hell dimension, hoping it could hold it.
You dropped to the floor as the book disappeared, the wind stopped and everything went silent. Tara was back to herself after a ceremonial wave of the staff, now propped up in a corner by Willow as everyone else skidded towards them. A battered Buffy included.
“You okay?” Spike asked it quietly, as you got to your feet, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention from the group. You nodded once but he wasn’t convinced. He knew you inside out and he took your hand tenderly as he spoke.
“Yeah, I-” You started but the look he gave you told you that he knew. He could sense it. You weren’t doing okay.
“I, uh, I just need some air” You said, grappling with yourself to get out of the magic shop, your hand no longer clasping Spike’s. He was on your heels, throwing a glare behind him at your friends as he went.
The others called their thanks to you as you left, while Xander tended to Buffy’s battle wounds. Your friends all loved you but they didn’t understand certain things about you. You were known as being a little odd, you went missing for periods of time and you frequently shied away from praise or gratitude. But they were fond of you all the same.
You were overwhelmed. Drained and scared you hadn’t done the right thing. What if that book was summoned in another dimension and you could do nothing to stop it? What if you had killed thousands of others by only saving the dimension you lived in?What if it came back and a different chapter opened, one where you couldn’t fight it?
Once outside, the storm had started. The thunder cracked through the air as your heart hammered through your chest. Your chest writhed in pain, as if several hands were scratching at you from within, trying to claw their way out of you. You couldn’t take a full breath, your breathing quickly shallowed, as if something was wringing out your lungs.
It had been creeping up on you ever since you had started the spell, but it had just crashed on top of you like a ton of bricks. You slid down the wall you had been leaning against, clutching your heart and fighting for breath. You were panicking.
“You’re okay, love, ‘m right here with you” Spike knew immediately what it was, crouching down beside you the ghost of his touch hovering over your shoulder as it erratically rose and fell.
“I- I can’t-” You stammered, lightning violently cracking through the air as you spoke.
“You’re okay, love.” he soothed, taking big unneeded breaths of his own to give you something to focus on. You tried to speak but he shook your head, you needed to focus on your breathing, “Breathe, Y/n, that’s right.”
He continued to breathe with you, your fingers numbing and your chest feeling like it was caving in. You felt like you needed to reach inside and stop it somehow but you could summon no amount of power or magic to stop it. This made it worse, you couldn’t control it. You couldn’t stop it and the storm raged on, worse this time as the thunder came from within.
“You’re safe, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anythin’ nasty get you, just take your time” He knelt before you, so that he was all that you could see.
As you slowly managed to regulate your breathing, you stayed sat in the same position as before. Rain started to fall as your tears broke, rolling down your face as the rain pelted down from the sky. You reached for him and he held you, arms wrapping around you as raindrops rolled down his cheeks.
You both stayed, crouched on the floor with the rain hammering down and soaking you both as he pressed the most tender kisses. First against your forehead, then your temple and finally a gentle peck against your lips.
Eventually, Spike moved, only to remove his leather duster to drape it around your shoulders. You hadn’t brought a jacket despite his insistence back in your shared crypt. He didn’t feel the weather and even if he did he would have done the same. Just as he knew you would for him.  
“Sorry about…”
“Don’t you ever apologise. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, you got nothin’ to be sorry for. I meant it, I always mean it. I’m here for every part of you” The look in his eyes told you that he meant every word. There was no reason for you to ever feel embarrassed, especially not around him. You would never be a burden, nor an inconvenience.
“Thanks” you murmured, but the look he gave you told you that him being here for you was not something he needed to be thanked for, he loved you after all. He was by your side always.
“Let’s get you home, love, catch your death out here” he joked, a watery smile on your face as you pulled his jacket around you. He encouraged you to lean against him as you walked, his arm firmly around your shoulders, the weather clearing if only slightly as you went.
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that-enby-witch · 1 year
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Witchy Resources
Astrology
Cafe Astrology - does your birth chart and it’s presented in a really cute way imo. It also gives you info about each placement and you can check compatibility and stuff too
Co—Star - I downloaded is the other day, it gives you quick daily horoscopes, do’s and dont’s for the day, and a longer breakdown of the horoscope
Dream work
Little Book of Dreams - I got this at a local store but you can get it for £4. It’s really cute and small, with just little summaries for what common dreams mean. It’s very simple but good for beginners in dream work
Deity worship (These are specific to Hellenism. You don’t have to worship Greek deities to be a witch but it’s what I have resources on because it’s what I follow)
Wikipedia - no seriously. It has info on so many different deities and their mythology so it’s actually quite useful.
r/Hellenism - a good place to ask questions if you’re new to deity worship and get some SPG on less common deities. Be sure to fact check
Amino - there’s a couple of Greek mythology and Hellenist communities on here. Like with Reddit, fact check!
Theoi.com - so much basic info on various deities, and it’s got epithets and things too that Wikipedia doesn’t have.
Tarot
Nata Soul Taro - probably the best pick a pile tarot readers I’ve found on YouTube. she also has a website and does personal readings. The videos are very calming and often really accurate
Zodianz - gives you three tarot cards and their meanings. Includes whether they’re yes or no, zodiac signs, planets and elements that correspond with each card, keywords for the card and then a short paragraph about the meaning. It also gives the meaning of the numbers in the card (like in 8 cups it tells you about 8)
If anyone knows any websites where you can learn tarot meanings let me know and I’ll add them to this list
Spell work
The Works - if you’re British, The Works has a lot of trinket boxes that you can keep spell ingredients in, and some potion bottles which are meant for crafts but they’re perfect for spell jars
Witchipedia - has some basic info about spells and some simple ones that you can do without needing many tools. Perfect for broom closeted witches, beginners or witches who can’t afford fancy stuff.
@strangesigils has some posts on common sigil methods, or, you can use some of their existing sigils!
Shadow work
Pinterest - I’m not kidding Pinterest has some great shadow work prompts if you just type in shadow work. Some are meh and some are really good
Co—Star - as well as astrology this also has a section where you can write a message to yourself and it’ll pop up the next time the stars are in the same position as they were when you wrote it
Crystal work
Holly’s Hope Beads - handmade crystal jewellery! My mum knows the girl who owns it and I’ve gotten a few pieces here. Really pretty and good quality
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sunvmars · 10 months
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fireworks | s.r.
pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader
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pt. 2 | masterlist
word count: 3.7k
warnings: smut mentions, some light swearing and some fluff. oh, and i have no timeline in the mcu for which this takes place so keep that in mind. i also did minimal proof reading :)
summary: everyone but you and steve realize you like each other.
Before you were an Avenger, you were Steve's friend and roommate. For half of the year that you'd lived together, you considered Steve to be more than a friend- you were head over heels in love. The team noticed how you brightened when he was around. They noticed how you were always taking short glances at him at meetings. You were always the one tending to any of Steve's injuries on the jet after a mission. The only one who didn't notice your pining was Steve.
Steve would do anything for you just as you would him. You weren't sure if you would ever tell him. If there was even a possibility of him not feeling the same, you didn't wanna ruin your friendship.
But just like he didn't notice your feelings for him, you never noticed his for you. To everyone but you, it was obvious Steve followed you around like a lost puppy. During team dinners he was sitting right next to you. In training he always picked you to partner up with. When it was your turn to make dinner, he was always in there helping you. And on missions, Steve always made sure to be near you.
Not that you needed Steve to protect you, and he knew this, as you came from generations of the strongest witches. You were strong on top of having your abilities. So far, you've discovered you have telekinesis, you can read and control people's minds, and control elemental factors.
After Steve found out that you had special abilities, he'd pushed you to get you in contact with Tony Stark. SHIELD decided you'd be a great asset and got you set up in a room in the Avenger's tower. Soon after you moved into the tower and out of your shared apartment, so did Steve. In fact, he was only three rooms down from you.
That was almost two years ago. And today was the day before Tony's New Years Eve Party. You all but forced everyone to decorate the place. Not that you truly cared this much about New Years, but you were a sucker for extra time with the team. And that's how you ended up spending your evening putting up decorations and assigning jobs for who puts up what and in which area.
"Come on, Buck, it won't be that bad," Steve smiles, patting the brunette's back as he passes him on the way down the stairs.
"If you stop complaining, it'll get done faster," Sam adds, giving Bucky a blank expression.
A frown crosses your features, "this is supposed to be fun, don't look so miserable!"
You watch Bucky and Sam struggle to wrap a gold and black tinsel garland around the stair rail, your frown quickly being replaced with a smirk. Steve, little to your knowledge, watches with a smile as you giggle at them bicker over who's wrapping the wrong way. After a few seconds, Tony jumps in to break it up- only resulting in all three of them arguing.
"How many Avengers does it take to put a damn garland up?"
"Apparently more than three," Steve responds to you with a chuckle, "should I break it up?"
"Of course not. It's entertaining. Wanna come hang balloons with me?"
Steve nods with the same lovesick smile plastered on his face.
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Soon enough, the whole living room was decorated- after hours of bickering between the team and multiple drinks, of course.
"See! That wasn't so bad," you declare.
"Speak for yourself," Sam says, side eyeing Bucky.
Bucky returns the glance, but remains silent.
"It wasn't horrible, but I won't be working with those two idiots again," Tony looks back at Sam and Bucky as he ruffles your hair and heads off to his room.
"I had fun," Wanda smiles, hoping to reassure you.
Nat gives you a slight smile, "it wasn't so bad."
After everyone goes off to their rooms, the only people left in the room are you and Steve putting up the unused decorations.
"So, Steve, do you have anyone in mind that you plan on going to the party with tomorrow?"
His face reddens just barely as he looks away from you for a moment to conjure up an answer, "I... No, not really. What about you?"
"I guess I could say the same."
You nod and attempt to cover the disappointment on your face. He only offers a hum in response as his lips curl up to form an empathetic smile. Your eyes linger on his for a little too long, both of you waiting for the other to fill the silence.
"Well, I should probably go put these back and head to bed," you blurt out, mentally cussing yourself out for not asking him to be your date to the party.
"Of course. Goodnight, y/n."
You turn a little too quickly and start walking towards the elevator. Once in your room, you change into pajamas and climb into your bed. Just a few doors down is Steve laying comfortably in his bed, and also berating himself for not asking you to go to the party with him. See, he has a plan to tell you how he feels tomorrow. He even found a balcony on the tower that gives a perfect view of the fireworks. His nerves are getting the best of him though. Sometimes he feels like you have the same feelings for him as he does for you, but he always dismisses the thought. He takes note of every move you make towards him. All the times you've hugged him and let your hands linger a little longer around him before pulling away. Every time your cheeks have brightened when he reassures you with compliments after a shitty date. Steve notices everything you do. And everyone notices how the two of you endlessly and hopelessly chase each other.
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When you wake up, the first thing that you notice is the smell of pancakes. The second thing is the small box you feel by your feet. Your eyes hesitate to open, trying to adjust to the sunlight. Slowly, your body allows you to sit up. You pick up the small white box wrapped with a pink bow. Attached to it is a small card that simply reads, "From Tony." With a cocked brow you gently tug on the pink bow and allow it to come undone. The box opens to reveal a piece of folded up fabric.
It unravels to reveal a dress that's hardly an actual dress. Sure, it's not that bad, but it's a little much for a casual party. It's slightly below the knee length dress with thick off shoulder straps. It's red with a black mesh over it making it appear a dark maroon color. The cups are a practically see through black mesh, the back zips up to just barely above your ass, and it has a long slit on the side that looks like it'd stop right at your hip. Not that you needed his approval, but you wondered if Steve would like you in this particular dress. After wrapping the dress back up into the box, you make your way out of the room and into the kitchen.
"Good morning, y/n," Steve smiles.
He hands you a plate with a stack of pancakes, a few pieces of fruit, and a little cup of syrup on the side.
"Thanks, Stevie," you return the expression and make your way to the table after getting a drink.
Plopping down in your usual seat between Bucky and Steve, you start to dig in. A few minutes later and everyone's almost done cramming down their breakfast. If anyone's learned anything from the time's when Thor visits it's that he eats, he eats a lot and he eats it fast. First day he was there it was like a pack of animals fighting over the last drop of water out of a pond. Per usual, you and Steve shared small talk until you decided to go back to your room.
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Within a few hours after breakfast, it was time to get ready for the party. For the last two years you've gotten ready for events like this with Wanda and Nat. Being the only girls in the tower, they were your best friends in the compound.
A sigh leaves your lips after carefully observing yourself in the dress one last time. You put a red bra on under it to make the cups look the same color as the rest of it. The dress left nothing to the imagination.
"Thoughts?" you ask as you step out of the bathroom.
Nat and Wanda exchange a glance.
"That's the one," they blurt out in unison.
"Are you guys sure? It doesn't feel like a little much for a regular, boring party?"
They quickly shut down your thought. After a quick pep talk, you take another glance in the mirror at yourself, you start to ponder it. They were right. It's beautiful and, to be honest, you wanted to tell Steve how you felt tonight so you had to look good.
"Oh, what the hell. Why not," you step into your closet to pick out a pair of shoes to go with the dress.
The three of you headed down to the living room only to split up after a few minutes of chatting. You went straight to the bar after exchanging a goodbye with them. As you placed your clutch on the bar, you leaned over the counter. Tony turns to look at you, shaker in hand and a smirk on his face.
"You actually wore it."
"You wouldn't leave me alone if I didn't," a small laugh escapes your lips, "you're cheap for somebody so rich. And it has kinda grown on me. So thank you, Tony."
"Ah, no problem kid," he pours the drink into a chilled glass, looking back up at you, "besides, it's not really a gift for you specifically."
Confusion racks your brain and you try to piece together what he means. Your bewilderment must've been evident on your face as Tony pushes the drink towards you with a grin.
"It's a gift for him," he nods behind you.
You pick up the drink and take a sip before turning to make direct eye contact with none other than Steve. His expression is almost stoic until he catches your gaze, offering a smile and wave. The gesture is returned by you before turning back to look at Tony's smug face.
"I knew you were up to something."
"Maybe soon enough you'll find out what that something is."
"He does not think of me like that."
"Sure," he scoffs as he makes his way to the end of the bar to grab more glasses.
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After a few hours into the party, you're starting to feel socially drained and really just defeated. Two hours and you have yet to find the right time to pull Steve aside, and he's having the same problem. You'd hardly talked at all except for when he bought you a drink earlier in the night. Most of the conversation being made tonight was small talk with some people who sat next to you at the bar, and a few desperate men.
That is, until a man approaches you, "I'm sure you've heard this a lot tonight, but you're absolutely gorgeous. And I'd love to buy you a drink."
His hair is short and dirty blonde, he's got baby blue eyes, and he's definitely handsome. Although he's no Steve, and this isn't something you do often, you could use the cheering up.
"Thank you..?" your voice trails as you wait for him to offer his name.
"Lucas," he grins.
"Lucky for you, I'd love another drink, Lucas. I'm y/n," you smile and pat the seat next to you.
The two of you chat for the next hour and, unbeknownst to you, Steve has the perfect view of you from where he's standing. He can see the beautiful smile you're giving him and the way the man is looking you up and down. Soon enough, the jealousy coursing through him was all he could focus on. That should be him that you're smiling at like that, it should be him down there making you laugh, it should be his eyes practically undressing you. All it took to push him over the edge was the guy putting his hand on your lower back. Now he was even more determined to tell you how he feels.
It's getting late and right as you're about to tell Lucas that you have to go, his phone rings. He quickly excuses himself and leaves to take the call.
A few seconds later, your attention is grabbed by Steve taking the seat next to you. And God he looks even more handsome close up. He's got on a dark blue, fitted dress shirt paired with equally fitted black dress pants. The darker blue is a perfect contrast to his eyes and hair. The shirt brings out the definition of his arms in the best way possible. Thoughts that are the farthest thing from wholesome run through your brain before he even gets a chance to speak.
"Having fun," he smiles at you.
"A little. You ignoring me, Rogers? Haven't talked to you all night."
"Of course not," Steve chuckles, "you were talking to your arm candy. Who would I be to interrupt?"
"That was nothing. It definitely wasn't like that."
"Well, you talked for awhile. Seemed like you were having fun and I just wanted to wait my turn, that's all."
His choice of words makes you giggle, "We're adults, you don't have to standby like a kid waiting for their mom to get off the phone. It's not like there's a long line to speak to me."
And Steve can safely say he's surprised there isn't a long line to talk to a girl like you. You're looking absolutely gorgeous tonight although he's way too nervous to express it to you.
Steve doesn't like the thoughts going through his head at the moment. He tries not to think about you inappropriately, but in times like these it's not easy. You're leaned over the bar counter with your ass practically poked all the way out, the cutout on the back of the dress gave the perfect view of your back, and the fabric fit your figure perfectly.
"That dress is stunning on you, sweetheart," he smiles, taking a sip of his drink.
If it were possible for a heart to do flips, yours just did it.
"Oh! Thank you, Stevie. Tony got it for me."
"Tony, huh? I guess I'll have to thank him, then."
To be honest, Steve was being very blunt and it was making it hard not to kiss him right then. Sometimes you guys would jokingly flirt but something about his tone was hinting that he wasn't joking this time.
"Come with me," he flashes a smile at you, "I wanna show you something."
"Is it important? It'd be rude to run off on Lucas."
Another pang of jealousy makes his stomach turn. He wants to tell you to forget about him, but he knows he doesn't have the right to do that. You're just being your usual sweet self and he knows that. But he can't get rid of the image of the way Lucas was looking at you; he knows what kind of thoughts came with that look because he gives it to you all the time. Like when you're training and your shorts start to roll up to reveal more of your thighs. Or when you're in your suit on missions and your sweat makes it cling to your body. That guy was eye fucking you, and even if Steve hadn't said it to you yet, you were his.
"It's important, it's almost midnight, and I have a surprise for you that's midnight exclusive."
"Alright, alright. It's not like I'll ever see him again anyways," you sigh.
As soon as he sees the corners of your lips turn up, he takes your hand and leads you to the balcony on the top floor. There's no one else up there and he silently thanks the universe for that. Quiet electronic pop music can be heard coming for the speakers. You both sit down on the couch and turn to look at each other.
"So, what's the surprise?"
"Just give it a few minutes," Steve smiles gently at your impatience, "you'll see it after the countdown."
"You know I like surprises. Don't tease me, Steven."
"So," he starts, "I'm sorry you won't get your kiss with Lucas tonight. But I think you'll like my surprise."
"Me? Kiss Lucas? Oh, no, no, no. I don't like him like that. There's...someone else."
He wants to let out a sigh of relief but stops himself. His eyes stay on you as you're looking up at the skylights. The different colored lights on the balcony make your eyes light up, and it also gives him the perfect view of your cleavage. Guilt washes over him at the thoughts he's having again. Then he decides it's the perfect time to tell you- you're alone, it's quiet, and he simply can't hold it in anymore.
"Y/n?"
"Hm?"
"I love you."
"I love you too, Stevie," you say as your face lights up, "you're the best friend I could ask for."
He laughs for a second, thinking of how to explain, "no, not like that. I love you. I'm sorry if this ruins our friendship, but I've been wanting to say this for a while. I have loved you from the moment I met you. Isn't it obvious how infatuated I am with you?"
Your heart stops for a second and the speed at which it beats picks up. After this long, Steve is finally saying the words you've only dreamed of hearing. A few seconds go by and you still can't conjure up a response.
"Listen, I understand if it's alot to take in. I'll leave you alone for a bit if you want," he starts to stand up but your hand pulls him back down.
"Steve-"
A loud crash of thunder stops your sentence early. As if on cue, rain starts pouring from the dark clouds above you. The rain is pouring fast, soaking both of you after only a few seconds.
"Shit. Let's go inside, I don't want you to get sick."
He gets up again but this time you stand up just as quick.
"No! I have been waiting to see this and I'm saying it now."
Your tone of urgency makes him laugh as he waits for you to continue.
"Steven Grant Rogers I have loved you for the last two years. I love you isn't even good enough to express how I feel for you," your smile widens as you keep talking, "you are the only one I can bring myself to think of. I. Love. You."
You stare at each other for a moment, smiles never fading, and then he places his hand on your lower back to draw you closer, "I am-"
This time, it's him being cut off. The sound of people on the balconies below you counting down and cheering is too loud to talk over. Laughter erupts from the both of you and he takes this image of you in. Your hair is wet and sticking to you, the water is making your dress stick to you too, and you've just told him you love him too.
"Can I kiss you?" he yells when they get to 5.
"Please."
His free hand comes to rest on your cheek and he pulls your face to hips. Your lips connect in a slow, passionate kiss. The rain no longer bothers you. Nothing could ruin this.
The sound of fireworks makes him pull away and turns your bodies towards them, "this was your surprise. Best view in the house."
For the second time tonight, your face lights up because of him. He swears there'll be no better feeling than seeing himself make you happy.
"Oh, Stevie... It's beautiful."
"And you're breathtaking, sweetheart."
His hand rubs your back, tracing circles into your skin. The thoughts from earlier start to come back. All he wants to do is bend you over this railing, lift up that short dress, and show you how much he loves you.
You move in to kiss him again. This time, the kiss is needier. It's rough and desperate. A gasp escapes your lips and Steve takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His tongue explores your mouth as he tries to pull you closer. He finds it in himself to pull away, both of you trying to catch your breath.
"I'm sorry if I'm a little bad at that, haven't done it in a while."
"No, sweetheart- it's not that. Trust me. I'm just doing everything I can to avoid losing control. If I'm honest, I've been having horrible thoughts about you since I saw you in this," he admits, motioning down at your dress.
"Who says I want you to hold back?"
His breath catches in his throat before he can respond. He opens his mouth to try again but stops again when you start to reach around and unzip your dress with a smirk on your face.
"What are you doing..?"
"It's cold, and I'm wet," your eyes glance up to meet his, "and you won't make the first move, so I'm doing it for you."
He steps forward and grabs your hand to prevent you from unzipping it any farther.
"Absolutely not. If I'm gonna fuck you, I'm doing it where nobody will see you. I'm not letting anyone else see you like that. As much as I'd love to take you right here on that couch, you're mine, baby," his confidence is evident in his tone.
Steve scoops you up with ease as you giggle, trying to get down, "put me down, I can walk."
"And I can walk faster. I need you."
All you can feel is immense joy. He was finally yours, and you were his. As it turns out, Steve would have to thank Tony for buying you that dress.
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nandorscloak · 2 years
Text
Nothing changed; everything changed.
Colin Robinson is back, but he left a child sized hole that deflated Laszlo and Guillermo’s entire world.
Laszlo. “Sounds like life goals achieved.” Now what? What do you have, Laszlo Cravensworth, that can fill the whole in your heart? Your little boy is gone, as well as all his memories, leaving you with nothing but a race car bed and the tinkling keys of a piano.
Guillermo packing away the toys like someone finally putting away their dreams, and still going to Nandor one last time. Not even to ask to be made into a vampire, just seeking some reason to stick around. Leaving behind his family, and putting a payment down on the life he always wanted (the one he always hoped love and devotion would grant him).
Nandor. My dumbest bitch. I truly do think at the end of season 3 he was on the verge of an emotional breakthrough, and I think season 4 began with him trying to muddle through somehow. He wanted love and affection. He tried every wish he could to get it. But he gradually wore himself down because that’s not the kind of thing you can build on your own, even with a Djinn’s help, and now he’s back where he’s started. Depressed. Closed off. Not the creepy-paper man we’ve grown to love.
Nadja, my dear ladywife with a loud voice, tired of being ignored in Europe and learning to scream while she was away. Nadja trying to bully her way into success and shuffling backwards every two steps, only to come back to her house of stupid, depressed morons. She was the most unaffected this season, but there’s definitely strife building between her and the Guide. And just like her dumb morons, she herself can be a dumb moron who’s unwilling to change. The Guide could have helped the whole time. Nadja had all the tools and help to make her nightclub successful- she had literal talent at her fingertips- but they weren’t as important as her version of the plan. The same way Guillermo’s idea about brainwashing the headmaster wasn’t as important as sticking to Nadia’s plan.
Unchangeable. Relentless as time itself. Literally rotting at the foundation. Hoping for change is something futile to the vampires. That’s what this season has hammered in over and over.
But Guillermo’s not a vampire. Guillermo’s a fundamental part of their rotting foundation- and he’s on the move to shake things up.
‘It only gets darker from here.’ But I think there was a reason for this season being so dark. They had two more seasons guaranteed. I think this season needed to happen to help destroy the previous stagnancy of the show. I think it was time to lay a new foundation.
But the one consistent element of the show is that Guillermo will always protect the vampires. He loves them. They are his family. And whatever happens next, whether he’s turned or it all goes wrong, I think that will still be true. He’s their body guard, their heart guard. Their familiar. He’s what’s familiar.
I lost the point of this. Anyways, can we get an episode next season of the household + Sean doing an Ocean’s 12 style heist to get the witches hat back from Simon the Devious? I think we’ve earned it.
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