#a draconic circumstance

[murmursdraconic]

WILDCARD! Dealer's choice :)

Smooch Spinner [Accepting]

Shay and Lucy didn't share a lot in common, but one of the few things was being competitive and not being cowards.

Neither of them liked wasting time, but the one thing Lucy had on Shay was her ability to talk to people, albeit very bluntly. She had more charisma there than Shay ever would. She was still trying to figure out what Lucy was about. Was she trying to annoy her on purpose or just testing her?

Either way, there the two of them were.

Shay couldn't remember what little competitive bet was made in passing. It was a jab, she was sure. Something how someone couldn't see Shay doing something? Her head couldn't remember, Shay was too busy thinking about what she just did instead.

A rare moment of boldness came over her. It was a quiet part at the corner of the bar with little traffic. She had just leaned towards Lucy and took the front of her shirt quickly for leverage. Lips to lips there was one hell of a firm kiss given to the woman before she pulled back - a bit defiantly - and back to her drink.

Yes she was too busy thinking about that rather than what lead up to it. What was she thinking? Clearly she wasn't but she felt oddly proud of herself for not backing down.

40. An impulsive kiss [out of spite???]

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Power Imbalance, Mind Control

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Yandere!Zhongli, despite his nature as the Archon of Geo, isn't as restrictive as one might think at first. Quite the opposite, actually. He'll say it himself, as he forces you to stay still in his strong arms, trapped inside his Adeptal Domain. He wishes he could give you more privileges, but he simply can't trust you.

Of course, you press him about this, you say he can trust you. With no other option but to fight for any scraps of freedom you can get, you're willing to grovel on your knees for anything, as much as you hate yourself for doing so.

At the sight of your desperation, Zhongli has to mask the way the corners of his lips twitch up, eyes predatory, draconic instinct seeping through a human facade. With the flick of a hand, a thick roll of paper pops into existence in front of your head. The very end of it unfurls, revealing what looks like a place where a signature is written.

For a contract.

Sign it, Zhongli says, and he will grant you multiple privileges listed in the contract: he'll allow you to leave his Adeptal Domain when possible, write to your family and friends, leave you alone for a set time if you so desire, and more listed in the contract.

Your hand itches for the crystalline, amber pen floating next to the contract, beckoning you to write your name, but you control the urge. You've already been played for a fool by a foe you once called a friend, and you won't fall for his foul ploys any longer.

So, you pull the contract to unfurl it. The paper flows like water, gushing across the floor like a wild stream down the bed to the floor, across the bedroom, through the door, into the kitchen, continuing on, and on, and on. It seems like days go by until finally, the contract is fully unscrolled.

Zhongli is less than pleased at your wariness, a disappointed sigh echoing through the still room. He had hoped you would be less uncooperative, but he will allow you a day to read the contents of the contract. After all, time is of the utmost importance, even for the immortal.

You glare at the god, but know that you cannot allow anger to cloud your mind. With only a day to read such a dense document, there's no time to spare.

When you look down to start reading the contract itself, though, your eyes widen in confusion.

The words on the paper are almost kaleidoscopic, warping and twisting and forming new phrases every second. One moment, you think you can read "the"; the next, those same letters have become "remain". Looking back up, Zhongli has a pitying smile on his face. "Dearest treasure, do you see now that this game is a fruitless endeavor?" He asks, a hand reaching to brush against your jaw, sliding tenderly across your skin. "I would not lie to you about these things. I have never lied to you," he says.

For a moment, you almost mistake his tone as kind, like you almost mistook everything about Zhongli—a polite, cultured gentleman who turned out to be a possessive, obsessed dragon—until you realize how patronizing his words are. You want to curse him to the Abyss and back, but hold back your hatred. "I'd prefer to read the contract." You look back down, and begin attempting to decipher the undulating paragraphs.

Hours pass by, and you've made no progress. Through it all, Zhongli has stayed by your side, whispering cloying words in an attempt at disarming your defenses. You've managed to stay strong in the face of his unending patience though.

But while you're smart, Zhongli is a god, with thousands of years of knowledge ingrained in his mind. And he knows eventually, one argument will break you down. So, he keeps trying.

"Time is running out, my sweet. But before this offer disappears, I will give you one last chance to sign," he says. "Besides, even if I am being dishonest about the contents of the contract, can things really get worse than this? At least by signing the contract, there's a chance your circumstances may improve."

His logic is sound, drowning out the dissonant thoughts scrambling your mind. You hate the idea of agreeing with Zhongli, but at this point, it's hard to see a reason not to sign it.

With trembling fingers, you pick up the pen. It's slightly warm in your hand, the way a rock in the afternoon sun would be. Smiling like he knew this would happen all along, Zhongli makes a motion with one hand, causing the contract to begin rolling up. After waiting several moments, all that's left unrolled is the space where you will sign your name.

The pen slashes against the paper, marring it with an ink-black scar that reads your name.

Then you feel it. The lightness in your chest, as though you're untethered to the world around you. Thoughts in your mind begin to pop like soap bubbles, fear dissipating into pure nothingness. You can hardly hear your spouse chuckling over the absolute blankness blanketing your mind.

Yes, Zhongli would allow you many more freedoms now. After all, you had sold your mind, body, and soul to him. Escape was impossible. You were clay in his hands, and he would mold you into a perfect, obedient lover.

[bigtedbear]

“ 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧 “

𝐩𝐫𝗼𝗺𝐩𝐭: 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝! 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝗼𝐫𝗺𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝’𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐚𝐧𝗼𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

Content warnings: SFW, hurt/comfort, domestic arguments, arranged marriage, dubcon to said marriage, misunderstood feelings, brief mentions of gore??? (description of grievous bodily injury)

" welcome back caller 🪷! connecting your line as we speak! "

" new contact noted! caller 𝚗𝚎𝚞���𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎 has been added to your phonebook! - love, 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑡-19 “

The night was clear, the moon radiant and seemingly beaming down upon the newly weds with a special smile embedded in it's waxing reflection.

It was a stark contrast to your own inner turmoil.

Perhaps you were resentful it was only your genetics that had landed you here. Maybe it was the dangling expectations that loomed overhead. But in all reality, you knew what bothered you. It was not Neuvillette nor was it the marriage. It was how quickly you were tossed to the wolves when "the greater good" became involved.

You had been previously described as invaluable to your family, a proud line of draconic warriors and protectors. Despite this, they seemed to eager to sell you off to Fontaine's Archon in the pursuit of preserving your species. It was utterly dehumanizing.

It wasn't as though you had any warning from your supposed "family" either, no. You and your siblings had been lined up, looked over and then called into a room for closer inspection. The length of your tail, your horns, the potency of your venom, fuck, it felt like they might as well have counted each and every one of the scales that adorned your body.

Not only was it a complete violation in terms of your own physical autonomy, it was a complete violation of your trust in your parents. You believed them to be your advocates, your protectors, and yet they were so eager to let a group of researchers poke and prod at you incessantly for hours on end.

Then, when it was decided you were the most physically and psychologically compatible with your to-be-husband, they were quick to pack you up and ship you off.

There were no warm, heart-felt, teary goodbyes. You were left to mourn your quiet life in the countryside of Fontaine to be sent crash-landing straight into the heart of a court of ruthless nobles by yourself. Sure, your siblings cried for you, but they weren't allowed to witness your departure. You were given a stern handshake from your father, a pair of kisses on each cheek from your mother, and a 'make us proud'.

You knew they were not affectionate people, but would they not shed a tear for their only son being sent to be picked and prodded at by rich snobs that could care less about your circumstances? Were they really so unfeeling they viewed you as some kind of transactional bargaining chip? Did your mother and father hate you so much they could view you as some kind of breeding mare only meant to take the yoke of carrying on your bloodline?

The elegant luxury that was your new bed stared back at you. The clean, pristine white sheets mocked you. The deep blue pillowcases and bedding only further drove a special hatred into your heart, reminded of your captor and the other unfortunate breeder that'd been tasked to settle down with you.

Everything felt unnaturally cold in the capital. There were so many rules and unspoken expectations in the form of social etiquette and manners it brought a familiar whirlpool of despair to your cranium the longer you thought about it.

It was just under a year ago you'd been plucked from your home; a year ago you would've been in a smaller, warmer bed surrounded by your loved ones. You didn't always have a full stomach, but the emptiness in your stomach was filled with the overflowing zest for life in your heart.

Every morning, you would wake up to your younger siblings climbing all over you and your bed. They'd demand you take them somewhere fun today, like you always did. You would brush your little sisters off with a laugh and tell them you were busy. Still, you'd let them drag you off to the bathrooms, where both of your older sisters would already be getting ready to start their house chores.

You'd braid your younger sisters' hair gingerly, pick them up off the stool in front of the mirror, twirl them around and shoo them off to have breakfast so you could get ready to tend to your family fields.

Swapped out with the tender love shared by family was a strict, punishing hand attached to a stricter etiquette instructor that seemed hellbent on breaking you into a perfect little house husband. Of course, your proud nature certainly didn't buckle to their whims, and they instead settled on making sure you wouldn't be an embarrassment.

Speaking of your future husband, you heard his careful steps towards the bed resound from behind you. He stopped just a few paces short of your figure, clearly sensing your disdain for the room and everyone in it.

"Is something the matter?"

Your lips pressed into a tight line, tail laying glumly on the intricately dyed carpet. The room was too large yet too small all at once. You wanted your space, yes, but you wanted to be embraced with that comfortable warmth again.

You wanted nothing more than to go home with one of your sisters tucked into your side and a storybook pushed into your bone-tired hands. You wanted nothing more than for your stomach to growl in the middle of the night with hunger pangs, knowing you went without so your siblings could grow tall and strong.

You wanted to throw up all the food you ate during the reception, erase the memories entirely, and run back to the countryside. You wanted to be free of the piercing stares, the dismissive shakes of the head when you panicked and forgot which fork to use for your salad.

Instead of trying to reason with your new husband, you gave a tired huff and went to sit down on your side of the bed. The plush material gave way to your body as your eyes scanned over your side of the bedroom. There was a small desk in the corner, but besides that it was largely barren.

In comparison, Neuvillette's side of the room seemed a little bit too cramped. You reasoned he was used to having the room to himself, he most likely had to clear all his belongings to one side in preparation for your arrival.

You hated that the transition to married life was easy for him.

He got to move all his stuff to one side, get used to sharing a bed at night, and wear a ring on his finger.

He knew nothing of your suffering.

Yet, curiously he followed after you, though he moved to his own area. The deafening silence caused your ears to ring, but you could care less. Eventually he, too, sighed when he sunk into the welcoming give of the mattress. He laid down quietly, keeping his distance.

"Goodnight, Husband."

The next morning, you were gone before the sun rose. Despite Neuvillette himself being an early riser, you seemed to have put him to shame with just how eager you were to leave your shared bedroom. He learned later that you busied yourself with the inner workings of the social sector.

It would be helpful to you, at the very least, to get used to socializing in a much more formal setting than you were likely used to. Still, he worried for you and how you would hold against the societal pressure that came with being married to the seemingly untouchable Iudex.

Despite your hatred for the socialites and the nobles of the court, the day you spent out quickly earned you a reputation as a "Cute Countryman", focused on chivalry and being as respectful as possible. It was laughable, really. Had they taken a moment to really think about it, they would've realized you were being respectful because you had no interest in learning about them on any kind of deeper level. Your eldest sister would've said they missed the forest for the trees.

You did find, however, a handful of nobles that were less than concerned with their public appearances. Specifically, her name was Navia, and you were happy to accompany her and the Spina de Rosula in their endeavors. In fact, this was what you busied yourself with most of the time. In the process, your name largely became synonymous with the organization and their influence throughout Poisson.

It wasn't much, you realized. But, the constant younger feminine presence brought a comfort to the gaping wounds in your heart. Spending much of your time with Navia started a few rumors throughout the Court, but they were quickly dismissed when a few prying eyes discovered you had plenty of sisters in your previous life.

About a month after your wedding, the matters of the Spina de Rosula managed to keep you late into the night and into the early hours of the morning.

As you returned home, you lamented the heavy downpour soaking your equally heavy suit and the extra cold that racked through your reptilian body. The moment you'd stepped through the doors of the Palais Mermonia, you were inundated with attendants pawing at your jacket to strip it off of you. You were quickly offered a towel, your belongings were whisked away from you, and in this little whirlwind, you were pushed towards the residential wing.

Despite having lived in the Court of Fontaine for just over a year, you would never become accustomed to the feeling of others in your personal space. It felt just as invasive as when the men in their fancy jackets came and measured you and your older sisters up and down, left, right, sideways and horizontal.

You stalked through the long hallway down to your marital chambers. You made a quick stop in your closet, changing out of your soaked street clothing and into something more palatable. The soft hug of the silk pajamas was comforting, but off putting in a way. It was as though you were a formerly feral cat now being domesticated. You hated the idea of surrendering yourself to the comforts of luxury, surrendering your dignity to become a loving little house husband. You would be provided for, more than comfortable, but that wouldn't stop you from longing for the outdoors.

You dried your hair off with the towel the staff at the door had provided you with, being extra careful to not be too rough with the horns. You tilted your head side to side to get the remaining rainwater out of your ears before stepping through the door that connected your dressing chambers with your sleeping chambers.

The room was quiet, and yet the lamplights had remained switched on. Soft snores were emanating from the man on his side of the bed, but he was still sitting up, propped on the headboard with more documents strewn across his lap.

You realized bitterly that he'd tried to wait up for you, ensure your safe arrival home. You hated the soft fondness that coursed through your bloodstream. You hated it just as much as you hated your inability to harbor any ill will towards Neuvillette.

The man had been nothing short of a gentleman to you the moment you walked down the aisle. The short kiss at the altar had been sweet, to the point, and he let you control it's duration. He let you take his hand and lead him back down the aisle and to the reception venue. He hadn't fussed in the face of your silence when the two of you got home, he hadn't complained that you never made yourself available to his various invitations for lunch.

You should've been appreciative of his attempts to make you comfortable, but you couldn't bring yourself to. If anything, you wanted him to be some selfish, evil, brutish older man that took advantage of you just like all the others. You wanted, desperately, for a reason to hate him like you hated all that declared themselves followers of Focalors.

But you simply couldn't.

Your pride wouldn't allow you to love him as your husband, but it also prevented you from hating him without reason.

In the end, he was a victim of this marriage as much as you were. He had not been the one to make these arrangements, he hadn't been the one to order those men into your home or the one that deemed you the most compatible with himself. He could've been sleeping beside another who returned his affections in full, someone who could love him unabashedly. Perhaps your older sisters would've been more skilled in navigating their inner turmoil. But you were not your kind, intelligent, and endlessly patient older sisters.

You had been a farmer, you had been an older brother, but just as quickly as you learned to love those titles they'd been stripped away from you in the span of mere hours.

You were a husband now, a noble.

You let your hatred for those titles consume you, but only for a moment. You wanted to throw your towel at him harshly to wake him up, to yell and scream at him for hurting you, but you knew you had no right. The very second you took a moment to gaze upon his unconscious serenity, you felt your resolve crack and shatter again.

So, instead you took to carefully plucking each paper off of his lap carefully, commandeering his quill from his dominant hand and gently laying them out for him on his desk. The amount of domesticity that coursed through made you feel indignant and pathetic, but for all the care he showed you, you could put your pride aside to do this one small thing for him.

You did your best to lay out the papers in the order you'd remembered them sprawled out on the bedspread. Afterwards, you very gently positioned him to rest and turned out the lights.

Despite the man laying asleep next to you and the ache of fatigue taking over your mind, you seemed to be unable to quiet the various conflicts taking place in the recesses of your consciousness.

If you continued to stay beside Neuvillette, how long would it be until you folded?

"Is he in the gardens?"

Neuvillette carefully adjusted his cravat, violet eyes gazing off into the expanse of greenery behind the Palais Mermonia. As of late, you had been avoiding him in his entirety.

Even on nights you didn't happen to be busy, you would be out and about. He'd grown tired of trying to wait up for you to return home. However, Fontaine was enjoying an extra long rainy season.

Formerly, you would be the one waiting for him to return home. You would be in bed, book in your lap, head beginning to droop. The two of you would exchange pleasantries while he would ready himself for bed. Every single night, you would wait for him to be tucked into bed before you would allow yourself to lay down. It had been endearing, cute even.

He knew it would difficult for you to settle into life married to him. He wanted to give you ample time and space to get used to it, but each and every day there was an ache in his heart when you continued to ignore him, refuse to acknowledge him.

He would fall asleep before you got home and then you would be gone early in the morning. Despite his hurt, he worried for your sleep schedule. Surely, your energy was suffering and you were most likely fatigued throughout the day. As your husband, one of his many duties was to ensure your health and happiness.

He was tired, in all honesty. He didn't care if you continued to be cold to him, as long as you would actually be there. The two of you might not have had the most conventional romance, but Neuvillette still found himself craving some kind of acknowledgement. You didn't need to love him, to be nice to him even, as long as you would be there for him again.

"His grace is currently enjoying tea at the pavilion, would you like this servant to announce your presence?"

The Iudex raised his hand dismissively, "There's no need for that. Please, allow us some alone time."

With a curt bow and a pivot of the foot, the attendant was heading back inside the residential wing of the Palais. This left you and the hydro dragon sovereign alone in the gardens.

Carefully, quietly, he paced towards the far end of the property towards the pavilion. His hands balled into clammy fists by his side. Normally, he was calm and reserved, and yet you managed to knock him off of his usually steady feet. He did his best to relax, flexing and unflexing his fingers.

Soon enough, he was greeted with the back of your lovely figure. Long elk-line horns reaching towards the sky, draconic tail brushed to the side to squeeze underneath an armrest so it could come to rest on the concrete behind your plush seat. It swept back and forth as you took in the scenery.

Even though his steps were nearly silent, the barely audible 'swish, swish' of your tail came to a halt. Before he could speak, there was a small clink of the highest quality porcelain money could buy meeting porcelain. You threw a negligible glance over your shoulder.

Even in what was your act of defiance against him, he couldn't help but allow his breath to catch in his throat at the sight of your countenance. Your eyes met with the same familiar silver violet hue, a small huff passing your nostrils before you turned your attention back to the array of pastries and the half-empty kettle of tea.

He tried to speak, but found his throat unbearably dry. Quickly, he cleared it, trying to formulate some kind of greeting in his mind. His mouth opened and shut a few times before he managed to stammer out, "Would you care if I joined you?"

He experimentally stepped in closer, hands coming to rest on the back of your chair. He took in the annoying twitch of your tail smacking against his shin, feeling his heart sink when he watched you stand from your chair. "There's no need. If you wish to enjoy time in the gardens, I won't bother you."

"Ah, but I see you haven't yet finished your own time in the pavilion." He pushed tentatively, gloved hands tensing on the wooden frame of where you'd been perched previously. Your tail carefully untangled itself from the arm of the chair. He noted your expression, examining it thoughtfully.

"If you wish to take my spot, I don't see a need, frankly." You crossed your arms across your chest, completely abandoning the pleasant shine of the sun on your skin and the half-eaten sweets on your plate.

His pressed into a line, considering his words carefully. Clouds began to circle overhead, blotting out the sweet radiance of Celestia in all of their haste. "Perhaps I wanted to share some time with you in the sun, would that be too much to ask?"

He'd meant it genuinely, but as soon as your lips turned downward into a frown, he knew he'd chosen his words wrong. "I am not your plaything, Monsieur. If you'll excuse me, I have much more pressing matters to attend to."

You went to turn on your heel, walk back into your shared home, but he interrupted you, "Wait-"

Your eyes shut indignantly, you took a deep breath through your nose before letting it out in the sound of a sigh. You turned back towards him, "What is it?"

You could sense the remorse brewing in his tone. You also took note of the light drizzle beginning to settle in the garden. There went your plan to sunbathe from the comfort of your small study instead. "I hadn't meant to offend you or insinuate that you were some commodity to me, if I did so please allow me to extend my sincerest apologies."

You hated that your own pity circled in the pits of your stomach. You still had no reason to hate him, no reason to deny him your affections, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to let him in either. You hated him, you hated him and all of his sweetness. You hated him and the feeling of trust you'd built for him in your heart.

"No, Monsieur Neuvillette. You simply bore me." The moment the words tumbled from your lips, you automatically regretted it. However, you couldn't stop yourself from pressing him further. "You come home from work and expect me to be happy to see a tired, haggard shell of a proud sovereign. You allow humans to string you along and work for them when they could care less if you and your sorry little "cute countryman" of a husband dropped dead so long as another Iudex would take your place."

You turned again on your foot, each fat drop of water falling from the sky burning into your skin as you went to retreat from him entirely.

"You are pathetic, as such I don't wish to see you or spend time with you. In the future, do not seek me out."

About a year into your avoidance of him and this sad excuse of a marriage, Neuvillette was awoken in the night by a strangled scream.

Before he could process it was you who made the sound, he was overwhelmed with the noise of pitiful crying and the sensation of wetness pushed against the crook of his neck. He could tell you were doing your best not to shatter his eardrums with loud cries, your chest shaking with each heaving breath you took.

In your desperation, he realized, you'd thrown off your covers, shot up like a rocket and you were clinging onto him like he'd vanish if you'd taken your hands off of him for a mere second. One of your arms secured him snuggly into your chest by the waist, the other combing through beautifully silvery locks.

Groggily, he called out your name, stirring from his deep slumber. His arm rested on the one you'd draped around his abdomen, face flushing a pleasant pink from the sudden intimacy of your actions. "What on earth has you so frightened at such an ungodly hour?"

You didn't answer him, instead opting to press your nose further into his neck. Effectively hiding your face, you babbled nonsense noises into his skin, never full words or sentences, cut off syllables and hushed sobs. You hands raked across his scalp like a madman.

Despite the clear fear in each and every one of your incessant affection, Neuvillette couldn't help the soft purr that resounded from the back of his throat. He squirmed in your grasp, moving so his back wasn't pressed up against your chest, but instead the two of you lay face to face.

His own hands reached up to your scalp, sleepily toying with a few loose strands that stuck up around your rather large antler-like horns. In this position, he could properly see the harsh rise and fall of your chest, hyperventilating at some vision he hadn't been privy to. "What makes you so afraid, my dear?"

Usually, you would've scowled at his use of a petname, but instead, when he reached from your hair to your face to stroke some of your tears off your cheek you leaned into his hand. The tears fell faster from your eyes as your hand wrapped around his wrist like a vice. Your actions begged him to keep his hand there, to use his comforting touch to get rid of the horrible things that plagued your mind.

He could feel your sorrow begin to translate into his own tragedy, his heart cracking at the sight of someone usually so reserved and filled with hate turn into nothing more than a tall child. A tall child that clung unto him like a frightened baby would its mother. His sharp features softened as a light drizzle began to knock at the windows of the Palais Mermonia.

It was a few more minutes of quietly holding one another before you could finally clear your breath enough to speak, "N-Neuvillette," you cried, painfully tugging at his heart strings, "Forgive me, please, forgive me-" You cut yourself off as another sob racked your being.

He stayed silent for a moment, his fingers interlacing with your own shaky hands. "What are you talking about?"

You shook your head, knocking your forehead against his rather unceremoniously. "I-I have truly been so awful to you- so utterly horrible to the one person who has done nothing but love me and patiently wait for me." You pressed a devastatingly hungry kiss to his cheek.

"You've done no such thing," he reassured, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. His ears lit up an embarrassingly dark red hue. Still, it seemed his words were no help to the wounds upon your aching heart.

"I don't care, if I must- If I must, I'll use the rest of my pitiful life to make it up to you, I don't ever want you to have a day that goes by where you don't know how much I appreciate you-" You sniffled against the skin of his cheek. "You deserved so much better than my hateful words and avoidance. The only thing I haven't done to you is lay my hands on you. Archons, I could never even begin to think-"

He called your name again, soft against your face, his teasingly airy laugh cut through the frigid air of the bedroom, "What horrors must you have seen to have changed your mind this quickly?"

Your face flustered a pink of your own, "Don't laugh at me! This is serious!" Even through the obvious annoyance in your throat, a certain sadness plucked at Neuvillette's heart in accordance with the quaking tremble in your tone.

He apologized to you with a soft kiss on the cheek, tentatively pushing the boundaries that had previously been established in your relationship. To his own surprise, you let out a content hum and settled against his figure again. "I apologize, but you must understand me."

You nodded, nuzzling a hand further into his palm, removing your grip from his wrist to wrap around his waist again. Despite the appeasement radiating from your body language, your voice was still huffy in it's response, "Of course, I understand you." You tugged him ever closer to yourself, scooting around to rest your head against his chest.

The sound of his heartbeat acting an impromptu lullaby as your eyes glided shut. His thumb caressed your cheek with an unspoken softness as he stared down at the tear tracks staining your beautiful features. Still, even in your sadness, your clear adoration of the man in your grasp shone through.

It was enough to make the the steadfast Iudex begin to crumble, suddenly taken with just how intimate the moment was between a formerly touch repulsed man and his longing husband.

You were curled up, just about wrapped around him like a blanket. You clouded every one of his senses, he could tell that he clouded a majority of your own in turn. What terrible thing did you see that caused your hatred for him to wilt like an aged rose? To bloom again as a newfound love and devotion to him?

He wondered to himself if he would ever find out.

But for now, he could enjoy the quiet and nervous, but also bold and blind reach for his affections.

The rain quieted to a stop outside of the window, the clouds beginning to sail across the soft winds. He twirled a lock of your hair around his finger, relishing the further slump of your body against his own.

You practically melted into him, your tail coming up to ghost around his shin. The small hairs on the end of it tickled just the slightest bit, prompting a loving smile to adorn his features. Against the crown of your head, he pressed his lips again. Then again as you finally wrapped your extra appendage around his leg.

It might not have meant much to Neuvillette, the lowering of your defenses in such a vulnerable display of your inner workings. But, his quiet comfort and understanding meant the world to you.

And so, before you allowed yourself to drift back to sleep, you promised to cherish him properly this time around.

There was a quiet rap on his door before your horns peeked from behind it, followed shortly by your face.

Yes, the night before had been nice, you had been through something rough, but he hadn't exactly expected the changes to be instantaneous. You had harbored a deep seated hatred for him for so long, it seemed as though you were a new person the next morning when he woke up to you still curled up around him.

He'd dismissed that as something unimportant, most likely the result of terrible sleep. Not to mention, your sleep schedule had always been much worse off than his own. Keeping this in mind, he snaked his way out of bed and gave you a kiss on the forehead before he made his way to your shared closet.

He pulled on his expensive suit, and, as usual, he skipped breakfast in the residential suite to get straight to work. He would have breakfast brought in later. Imagine his surprise when you were the one to turn up at his door, still in your pajamas, breakfast in hand.

You had the small cart loaded to the brim with his favorites, things he hadn't known you'd noticed. There was a kettle of tea and two cups perched on top of the precarious tower of breakfast luxuries. He found comfort in the fact you looked well-rested and eager.

"What are you doing here?"

You yawned, arching your back upward to get a good stretch in. It was apparent you'd just barely woken up before suddenly deciding to treat him. "Is it really so strange for me to bring you breakfast?"

He hummed, contemplatively, "I suppose it wouldn't be in any other circumstances, but I didn't know you were aware of my office's location. You certainly haven't visited me before."

You waved off his concern with your hand dismissively, yawning into your palm again. You pushed the cart towards his desk, towering over him from behind as you laid one of the two porcelain cups on the table. You poured him a cup before you retreated to seat yourself in a chair in front of his desk. "Even if I don't visit, it isn't strange that I know the layout of my own home."

He nodded again, letting the scent of tea waft up his nose. He noted your much more casual demeanor when you poured your own glass. You settled on grabbing a pastry from the bottom of the stack, allowing yourself to eat casually around him. Usually, when the two of you were forced to share a meal at some kind of event or other, you were prim and proper to the point of being mechanical.

It was rare to see you so... relaxed.

The sun shining on your face from behind him, hair still tousled, pajamas loosely hanging onto your figure, and crumbs all over your face. It brought a special warmth to the pit of his stomach, even more so when his hand reached out for your face to gently dab away the remains of your snack from your lips.

Instead of insisting on doing it yourself, you pressed yourself into his awaiting hand and simply let him do as he pleased. He couldn't help the fond smile that stretched across his cheeks. Lowering his hand back to the table, he allowed himself to take in the sight of you, half-awake and eager to spend time with him.

Soon enough, the moment was over when you yawned again and stood up from your chair. You gestured towards the cart, "Your breakfast is served, I'll be back soon enough after I get changed."

His eyebrows raised, "You'll be back?"

You nodded, not really all that shocked at his surprise. "I've occupied much of my time with the workings of the Spina de Rosula, but I haven't a clue what happens in this office of yours. Surely, as your husband it's one of my duties to make sure you aren't overworking yourself."

His brows furrowed again, conflicted. He was happy to be in your company after so long alone, but he didn't know if he was the one dreaming now. Would this dream transition to a nightmare when you went back to the way you were before? Even with the sun beaming down on his back, he wondered whether or not the feeling was genuine the longer he stared at you.

Would he have to wake up and be greeted with the cold reality of your absence from the bed once again?

"I..." he closed his mouth, resting his quill against the table. "Are you sure you want to bore yourself with the paperwork? I'm sure there are more interesting things you can do with your day."

You huffed, "What could be more important than your health? Even if I'm not home when you get into bed, our attendants still notice when you come home later. Starting today, it will stop." You put your hands on your hips, scanning his written archives of cases. "Now, as much as I love lounging in my sleepwear, your place of work isn't exactly appropriate for that."

He didn't respond, more so trying to decipher this blooming dread at the pit of his stomach. He had finally gotten just an ounce of attention from you, but he still feared the worst. When you realized your nightmare was just a silly little vision conjured up by your imagination, would you continue to ignore him?

Should he bother trying to enjoy this time? To get attached again? Would he be able to bear it if you were to sever the tie with more hurtful words and venom that dripped from your lips like honey?

Just as you went to walk away from him and towards the door to his office, he called your name. He hadn't really thought through what he wanted to say, but he did, however, know he wanted to say something. As you turned to look at him, alert but confused all the same, he considered dismissing you entirely.

But there was this gnawing feeling in his gut that he desperately need to solve if he wanted to be able to focus on his work.

"You say that there is nothing more important to you than my health, but in the same vein, you worry me with such sudden changes. Please, when you return, can we discuss what happened last night before anything goes further?"

'I'd seen lifetimes ahead of us Neuvillette, lifetimes you could hardly imagine. I saw our beginning and I saw our end.'

"Neuvillette?" you called out blindly into the dark. The door to your bedroom was just slightly ajar, it allowed an eerie sliver of light to trail out into the large corridor of the residential wing. In your many years of marriage to the Iudex, he hadn't waiting up for you since the first year the two of you had been wed.

After all, he knew better.

Was this some kind of special occasion? You could only speculate as the many discrepancies in your routine began to swirl through your mind. There was nobody that had come to greet you at the door, nobody to take your belongings off your or rip your jacket off. There was nobody to usher you towards your shared bedroom.

Despite your lack of real status within Fontainian society, nobody would've dared to insult the Iudex's spouse so.

Had Neuvillette asked for them all to be cleared out for some kind of special dinner where it would be just the two of you in the home? That didn't make any sense either. Neither of you celebrated your birthdays, you didn't celebrate an anniversary, you often left on holidays. So what exactly was happening?

You called out again, your voice trembling, "Neuvillette, this isn't funny. What are you up to?"

Something was terribly wrong, you realized. Terribly, terribly wrong. You summoned your blade quietly at your side as you approached the door that was just barely open.

You regretted that you hadn't come home sooner.

The formerly blue and turquoise carpet had turned to an ugly shade of brown, some parts so saturated in crimson you could no longer see the patterns you often traced with your eyes when you were bored and home alone.

You froze, unable to really process what could be happening.

The first thought in your mind was that Neuvillette had murdered someone and expected you to be out long enough he could clean the mess.

But who would Neuvillette murder? He had no reason to dirty his hands when a man of his status had so many connections.

And so, you realized what had actually happened when your eyes trailed to source of the pooling liquid.

A blood-curdling scream ripped itself from your throat as you rushed forwards at the sight of your spouse all but decapitated on the floor. His beautiful, beautiful neck has been sliced so cleanly it was obvious to tell which side of the blade had been sharpened for combat. You reached desperately for him, despite knowing he was likely gone.

You pulled his limp body into your lap, your jaw agape as you struggled to comprehend what you were seeing. You used one hand to keep his head on his neck, the other holding his blood-stained face in a gentle caress.

Even in his death, he was lovely. The peace in his colorless eyes was telling as he succumbed to eternal rest. You were upset, yet you felt you had no right to be. The man had pined after you for decades and you couldn't so much as muster the ability to spend an anniversary with him, to come home an lay next to him in bed a reasonable hour.

You had never been there for him to wake up to, you had never been the one to take care of him when he was ill or weak. You had never responded to his desperate invitations for lunch nor had you ever spared a glance at his attempts to be romantic. You set the bouquets he sent to your study in a vase and you let them die when you couldn't be bothered to water or care for them.

Why was it you were so devestated?

You swore to yourself you would never love him, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to part from his body. Perhaps, if you held him together for long enough, he would revive and you would be able to nag him like you always did when he didn't take proper care of himself.

Behind the both of you, a tall man loomed. His silhouette was intimidating, but you couldn't be bothered to care when you were faced with the devastation of loss that shattered your heart. You only really cared to pay him any attention when he stepped in closer to the both of you.

"Don't you dare come any closer."

You snarled at him, clutching Neuvillette's corpse closer to your heart. You refused to look at him, but the intensity in your tone cause him to pause for just a moment.

It didn't last long, seeing as mere seconds later he continued to close in like a predator would prey. A mocking laugh slipped past his lips as he looked down upon the sorry scene. "Will you stop me? You already failed to protect your husband once."

You pressed a soft kiss to Neuvillette's forehead before you stood up on shaky legs to face his murderer. You were met with only one of his eyes before you pointed your blade at him. There was a black mask draped over the side of his face, painted in an electric blue that matched the iris you could see.

"I may have been unable to protect him, but that doesn't mean I am unable to protect what he sought to protect." Your blade made contact with his chest, daring you to make the move to kill him.

"What I am here to retrieve is none of your concern, perhaps you would be happier if it were in my care than that of Focalors." He wrapped his fingers around the point of your sword. "After all, she is the one that forced you into this predicament."

You made a quick move to jab the blade into his chest, watching the shock wash over his face, before he promptly raised his own blade. You pulled your weapon out of him, watching the blood pour from the wound before it miraculously closed up once again.

"What was once Neuvillette's duty is now my duty to protect in his absence, you will not leave with his gnosis, harbinger."

"I see."

Neuvillette held your hands in his own across his desk, rubbing the back of your hands with his gloved thumbs. You let the small action comfort you, letting out a soft sigh.

There was a small smile on your face as you continued on with your little story, "I'm proud to say that the two of us ended in a stalemate. I was much worse for wear, but ultimately, someone managed to scare the harbinger off. I later succumbed to injuries, but for a short moment, I felt as though I could die peacefully knowing I fulfilled the duty you could not."

Your husband hummed in response. "Is this why you are so insistent on making sure I know I am loved?"

You nodded quickly in response, "Precisely. In that moment, the moment I realized you were gone without so much as a farewell, it was only then I truly came to terms with how I felt about you." You gave his hands a light squeeze, "It was only when I was too late did I realize I would be able to love you without guilt."

The Iudex cleared his throat, trying to hide the pinkening of his cheeks with his fist. "I understand, but I fear that your visions of the future have answered the questions of our relationship, but raised more about the potential future of Fontaine. Eventually, someone will come to retrieve the gnosis, but now that you've chosen to change the course of history, will that also mean the future will also change?"

You pursed your lips carefully, "I don't know, Neuvillette. I fear I can't answer those questions myself. I only know what I did, what I saw, and what happened in that specific scenario."

He paused again, letting his fingertips fall back into your embrace, "This is... indeed troubling."

You shook your head, "The only thing I can promise you is that I will be by your side throughout it all. I'm afraid for if the time arises when I will once again be unable to protect you." You swallowed some spit down your throat, "To see you in such a state is a sight I will not forget for the rest of my life, nor will I forget it in every single lifetime that follows. I wouldn't be able to live with myself should something like that happen to you again."

He could see the vulnerable tears well up in your eyes once again, likely being confronted with the image of his headless body, cold in your arms. The rain that tickled the glass of his study picked up as he reached towards your face.

His fingertips cradled your jaw sweetly, his blank expression distorting into one of anguish. "Please don't cry, beloved, it only hurts the both of us."

You took his free hand in both of yours, squeezing it insistently. "You must promise me in this life, if nothing else, that you will live. You may not remember the years we spent together, but I do. Each and every memory between the two of us from my past life is one I will cherish forever, but I want to make new ones with you."

The rain on the window slowly began to dissipate as an awkward smile graced his features. "You can't expect me to be used to hearing you say these kinds of things, my dear. I hardly ever hear your voice and suddenly you're pouring your heart out to me. At least give me a moment to recover."

You wiped your own brewing tears away from your eyes, letting out a chuckle at his words. "Never."

He let out his own airy chortle. "And why wouldn't that be?"

You kissed the palm that rested on your cheek softly, tenderly. You let yourself bathe in the sight of a flustered Iudex as you smiled at him, truly and genuinely again. "I've held my tongue for far too long already, I can't stand to let my precious husband go on forever not knowing that he is the one I will treasure forever."

He tugged at his collar playfully, "I didn't take you to be a charmer."

Your smile widened, allowing your teeth to be put on full display, "Like I've told you time and time again, I must make up for lost time."

Neuvillette smiled back, though it was more dim, "What if I am not the same Neuvillette you remember?"

You shook your head, "Nonsense, don't think such strange things. If you aren't the same Neuvillette, I will simply have to fall in love with you all over again."

Quick as a whip, you stood from your seat across from him at his desk, looming over his chair as you leaned down and playfully pepper kisses on the exposed area of his neck just above his shirt collar.

He gave a hearty laugh, holding your face off of his neck after just a few short seconds, "Easy now, you've only just told me that you're willing to offer me your heart, aren't you being a little too forward?"

You smiled against his hands, pressing another kiss to his temple. "Do you not like it?"

He did his best to feign annoyance, but he wasn't fooling anyone, "That isn't what I said."

"Then must you be so suspicious of me? Let me shower my lover with kisses!"

He called your name, reprimanding you gently, "I thought you were supposed to be helping me with my work, Monsieur."

You sighed, "And now, you're the one being formal with me. Is my love not a good way to destress from your endless papers?"

Neuvillette was overwhelmed, but it was a good kind of overwhelmed. The kind that made his insides warm and fuzzy, the kind that made his face burn a bright red.

He squirmed under the pure adoration and determination in your eyes, but he chose to allow himself to succumb to your whims. "I suppose you're right."

With a triumphant smirk, the moment his hands loosened from the sides of your face, your lips were upon his exposed face in moments. Peppering each ridge and valley with the tender caress of your lips. You positively drank in his boisterous laughter.

You hadn't been able to give him the love he deserved before, but you were certain you would not fail in this lifetime.

You told him that no matter how much he changed from your previous incarnation, you would fall in love with him. The only thing left was for you to get him to fall in love with you.

Not only in this life, but every life time that would follow it.

there's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

" thank you francis forever by mitski we all say in unison "

THIS IS A REPOSTED WORK FROM MY ORIGINAL ACCOUNT BEFORE IT CRAPPED AND DIED ON ME

I USED TO BE FOUND AT @steadybear

I FEAR YOU WILL HAVE TO DEAL WITH SEEING @bigtedbear INSTEAD FROM NOW ON

Part 2 here: " l'amour de ma vie "

[crystalflygeo]

two long dragon tongues down your throat is better than one <3

So I was going to answer this like a normal ask just fangirling and screaming yes but then it kinda reminded me of this abandoned wip I had sitting in my docs and IT WAS TOO GOOD TO LET IT PASS.

So sorry this sat on my inbox so long csvajckwxbhaj I promise I am not ignoring :c <3 work is just killing me and also this got out of hand HAHA WHAT A SURPRISE

it was written before 4.2 dropped (maybe before 4.1 even I can't recall) so there are some little things here and there that are technically not canon anymore//hit

Neuvillette is absolutely fascinated.

The chief Justice of Fontaine has lived for many many years, seen, learned and experienced a lot of what the world has to offer, at least within the confines of his beloved hydro nation. Always a diligent man, carrying out his role and job at the court to perfection. Yet there was something he’d always… disregard.

Some more basic instincts pertaining to his true draconic nature.

He’d had enough in his plate as it was, practically managing the nation, keeping lady Furina both entertained and out of trouble, taking care of the Melusine, and a myriad of other duties in between. Truth be told, he was a tired old dragon not having much time or interest in the pursuit of a romantic companion.

So how did he end up here? Having a sample of the most sacred and valuable treasure of another dragon. Their mate.

Neuvillette is mesmerized at how your body reacts, jerking and trembling in unadulterated pleasure. Entranced a how your lips part with labored puffs and cute little sounds he didn’t know humans were capable of. High pitched whines, long drawn-out moans. Hypnotized by your eyes, usually so alert, so smart and playful… now glazed over, clouded with euphoria yet so raw and sincere in their emotions, begging him not to stop.  

And your scent… oh, the most decadent sinful scent he’d ever sensed. His pupils dilating and turning back to slits as his stare focused on your drooling pussy. His mouth dry, his fangs aching. He wanted to drown all of his senses in you.

Darkened fingers slide across your folds, a little colder than normal for a human which is why he’d always wore gloves, but you mewl appreciatively and gladly accept them. Clenching warm and wet around the digits.

And his breath catches.

“Hmmm… you’re doing so well, baobei.”

The Iudex’s eyes flicker momentarily at the other man, or should he say, other dragon. The former Geo Archon Morax, quite literally a mythical figure exuding an aura of power far greater than his current own. He is older, wiser, stronger, a deity once involved in the likes of the Archon war and the Cataclysm. In this little… exchange, Morax is certainly the dominant dragon, simply letting Neuvillette please you.

Morax holds you close to his chest, purring contently in a display of affection towards you and confidence towards the other male, as if he needed not to worry about another taking what is his. Neuvillette knows if he were to even remotely try something funny, he’d likely face the infamous wrath of the rock. Under normal circumstances, he’d find it a little insulting to be treated like this. If he had his full authority…

But these are far from normal circumstances.

And he’s currently rather… ah… enchanted by you.

“Curl your fingers towards you and pump slowly… she likes that.” Morax explains, voice deep and rich like syrup. His hands roam your shoulders and chest, massaging softly at your exposed skin while he plants kisses at your neck, occasionally nibbling of a few past marks from his own fangs.

Neuvillette does as said, experimentally, and is rewarded by a sultry moan and a buck of your hips towards him when you feel those fingers wiggle and rub at a spot deep inside you.

“Oh? Got it on your first try Chief Justice, why you may be a natural.” Morax chuckles.

The younger dragon appreciates the praise underneath the teasing lilt.

“Now, you may use your thumb to rub at that little pearl, it’s just begging for attention.” Your mate nuzzles against your cheek, his own thumbs rolling over your perked nipples. “Slowly, careful… she is very sensitive.” He adds with amusement.

He does so again, the pad of his cool finger brushing over your puffy little nub, the spark of pleasure is immediate and you toss your head back and squeal.

“Please please please…” You gasp out, breath shuddering, body trembling.

Tears gather at your eyes and roll down your cheeks, it’s so much it feels so good.

The younger dragon stops and blinks at you, his demeanor shifting suddenly. His hands slip over your thighs to you hips, as if trying to cradle you, hold you closer.

Morax’s eyes narrow if only a bit, curious but wary of Neuvillette’s sudden… protectiveness over you.

“You’re crying… have I hurt you? Are you ok?” He asks softly, attention solely on you.

Your heart could melt at that, who knew the ever serious and imposing Iudex could be so gentle? He truly reminds you of your mate sometimes.

You nod, catching your breath a moment. “I-I’m good. Feels good.” You mumble, cheeks heating up with the confession. Your body already lays bare and presented for him, in it’s most vulnerable. But to open up your feelings too… “People… cry when they’re happy too, you know?”

He seems to consider it for a moment, you can practically se the cogs turning in his head, it’s rather endearing, his brow twitches the same way Morax’s does when he’s pensive, perhaps it’s a dragon thing? “I have observed that before, yes, but why-”

“Emotions are powerful. When y-you feel… so much… you need a let out. Be it angry, sad, even happy… our tears leak out, like emotions overflowing.” You smile and shift a little, hiding your face towards the crook of your mate’s neck. “Weren’t you the one who said waters carry emotions?” You nuzzle there and Morax responds accordingly, his hands once again massaging and roaming your body, knowing you’re still pent up and the sudden stop was probably a little frustrating.

Golden fingers slide over your folds and sink in carefully, thumb circling your clit once more and you whimper. “That’s it, my love… I want you to feel good. We want you to enjoy, isn’t that right?”

Neuvillette straightens up a little to meet Morax’s gaze. Not challenging (not yet) but there is something.    

“Indeed.” He leans in to nuzzle at the other side of your neck, the soft skin there unmarked. Morax tenses his hold on you, a slight growl coming out from deep within his chest.

“Careful Chief Justice. Remember our agreement.”

“Of course. No kisses, no marks, no claiming. No strings attached.” His lavender eyes a dark purple now as he follows the soft slope of your jaw. “I wouldn’t dare break a contract with the deity that presides over them.” He chuckles. “I just want to test…”

Or rather taste. His draconic tongue laps up softly at your tears, his hands tease your nipples as if trying to get more reactions out of you and you whine, arching towards him as Morax’s hand keeps working at your core.

It’s so… intense. They are both so clear about their desires, slow and reverent, kind in their methods, but so assured in their dominance that they will get what they want.

And oh, to be desired by two dragons truly is something…

“Interesting…” He mumbles pulling back. “So sweet.”

Morax nips at your mating mark then and tilts your head to press your lips together, your mouth happily parts for him and you let out a muffled moan as that long split tongue slides down your throat. Your feet kick and your fingers claw at whatever is closer.

Half-lidded golden eyes stare down at you with satisfaction, blown with lust. A third finger sinking in on your sweet pussy, faster, your juices gushing obscenely around them.

That tongue teases and chokes you and more tears come out of your glazed eyes, eagerly caught by another one. Bodies pressed together, hands roaming, Morax’s tail curled around your ankle keeping you open, Neuvillette’s swaying after him with excitement, cool fingers pinching your nipples, massaging your breasts…

“Mmphff…!” You squeak, high pitched and tense as the pleasure tips you over the edge and your body locks up in a delicious powerful orgasm. You sob and whimper as they work you through it. Shuddering. You see stars. Can’t think only feel.   

Once it settles Morax pulls back and you melt against him, chest heaving, legs weak, muscles aching just a little, they continue to pamper you with affection and attention.

Your mate’s fingers retreat with an embarrassingly wet noise and much to your further mortification he brings them up to his face and that sinful slip tongue once again comes out this time to lick them clean.

Neuvillette stares transfixed.

You groan quietly, it’s obvious what he wants…

Morax on his part only lets out a short laugh, possessive instincts seemingly more at ease now. “Oh? Want to have a taste too? I can assure you will not be disappointed.”

Archons, the way those sharp eyes shift to you.

“O-okay…” Your voice is barely a whisper. “P-please be gentle though I j-just…”

Your breath catches in anticipation as Neuvillette’s hands rest on your inner thighs.

And then your dear mate pulls you back into a kiss.

[mochinomnoms]

Ooo Mochi! I have a fun question. In terms of different TWST species, who do you think would be more or less likely to be polyamorous? Either in terms of sharing their partner, or wanting multiple partners.

Fun question! Okay, so very quickly, this is what I'd categorize them:

Strictly monogamous

Jack — wolves stick to one partner throughout their lives, and Jack is no exception. Once he has a partner, he's sticking with them for life.

Malleus — I imagine that dragons also mate for life, especially based on some JP spoilers. And while fae in general are not monogamous, draconic fae are. Besides, he'd only want a partner that sees beyond the image of the Briar Valley Heir, and there's only been one to do so, so far…

Prefers monogamy, open to polyamory

Sebek — I think this comes off as a surprise, but I think since Sebek was raised by regular fae, specifically ones akin to crocodiles, he'd be fine with polyamory under the right circumstances. He'd prefer to keep them to himself, though.

Ruggie — Similar to lions, hyenas are not typically monogamous. Ruggie is more inclined to stick with one partner though, as logically speaking having more than one mate tends to get expected. Unless you both get a rich partner that's willing to spend on you, then he's really listening~ *cough* Leona *cough*

Can do either or/no preference

Leona — Lions usually have multiple partners, usually one male with several female partners. The royal family tends to follow this rule, though Leona personally wouldn't want to bother with it himself, he's content with the one. If they'd wanted to try it, he's fine as long as he's always first, the others can come second for once. Unless it's with someone he knows he can depend on to view him as an equal, or is particularly motivated to pursue him and his partner. Then his interest is peaked.

Azul — He's going to be fairly attached to his partner, but a majority of merfolk under the sea are polyamorous, it's quite normal for him to consider having more than one mate. However, due to his insecurity, he would only share his mate with certain people under contract, which brings me to my next point:

Leech Twins — Like Azul, polyamory is normal where they're from. They've even made jokes about sharing Azul when they were older, mock fighting over who would marry their cute little Octy (Azul couldn't tell if they were genuinely joking or not, though). Once they get there's the introduction of a potential four partner (you), then they're starting to take their own jokes a bit more seriously.

Is polyamorous

Lilia — He's old. Like, nursing home old. He's lived his days and experiences most of life's enjoys and sadness. As such, he's found that he personally enjoys being poly. His family has been far from a traditional one, and he cared so much for his past lovers that he raised their son as his own. I mean, really speaking, Malleus is his son! I can see him, now that he's older, and his children are becoming more independent, wanting to focus on romance for himself again. He has much of himself to give, so he is content with making sure all and any partners of his get all that love and affection.

[hanafubukki]

I laughted so hard 😭 "Please don't-" The sky is blue, the birds singing, your two soon-to-be husband are dressed for the occasion as you walk through the castle hall Meleanor and Levan accorded you for the ocassion. Not many people are here, but things are sure lively. Everyone is ready, except for the wedding officer, who is nowhere to be found. Levan too seems totaly unaware of his wife location, but he suppose she was with their egg and didn't see the time pass.

Then. A motherf*cking dragon blow up the walls, takes you in his mouth, and fly away as quickly as she came, leaving you, your two signnificant others, her own husband, and the whole hall totally speechless. Now, here start the epic adventure to take back the bride-

And here is the origins of the legend of a dragon stealing brides from their husbands in Briar Valley that spread for centuries in other countries....

- 🦋 Anon

[Masterlist; specifically talking about this Ficlet]

Hello 🦋Anonie,

I’m glad I was able to meet my goal and make some of you laugh with that. Meleanor being chaotic fun like her son is something I enjoy, especially if it makes Lilia’s life that much more…interesting lolol

Now let’s weave a tale, or rather, a legend that becomes widely known. A legend about a bride being stolen by a dragon on her wedding day from her two grooms.

This story starts as all stories do:

Once Upon a Time, in the Kingdom of Briar Valley…

It was your wedding day, you were almost fully dressed. The last few pieces of your outfit were supposed to be placed by Meleanor, as per tradition.

But there lies the problem, said Queen never showed up. You had one of the maids summon the King, only for him not to know where his wife is. He was busy with the grooms and had assumed his Queen was with you or with their egg.

He had assured you that he would find his Queen before leaving. You sighed and waited, thinking about the wedding. It was a beautiful day. Clear skies, birds singing, and precious loved ones were attending your wedding. So where did the Queen go?

As one of Dawn's birds and Lilia's bats came to comfort you, a stray thought came to mind, of the Queen's joke from years ago.

You had a very bad feeling about this...

...and as if the universe wanted to prove you right, the wall behind you blew wide open.

Like mother like son, you couldn't help but think as you stared at Meleanor's dragon form. Her dragon form was beautiful, you just wished you saw it during different circumstances.

"Please don't damage the dress."

The dragon smirked at you, before grabbing you in her claws and flying away with you.

You dangled in her claws. What was the point in struggling? It's not like you can free yourself and you doubt she would ever drop you. So might as well enjoy whatever this is while waiting for answers.

The venue for your wedding was beautiful, you noticed during your flight. You hoped you could get married in it today, or sometime soon.

"MELEANOR! YOU?!"

Ah, there was Lilia.

You waved at him as he frustratingly yelled at his sister as she paused in her flight away to give him a draconic smirk, even swinging you slightly as if to mock him. Your Knight of Dawn was right next to him, startled and astonished. Levan was on the other side of Lilia, rubbing his forehead, you kind of felt bad for him.

Meleanor roared in laughter before speeding away, at least her claws hid your wedding dress from your grooms-to-be.

You were plopped down gently in a field of flowers before Meleanor returned to her humanoid form.

"Dare I ask?"

"I wanted to mess with Lilia a bit more."

"I figured as much. Now, what’s the plan?"

"Now, I help you get ready for your wedding."

You stared at her confused, everything was already ready back at the castle.

Meleanor donned a haughty smile, "I felt a change of venue was needed. This place is so much better, don't worry, I already gave the orders for everything to be set up here. The one you saw before was just an illusion."

She then led you away to an area magicked to be your bridal room, where the final touches of your outfit will be done.

As you followed her, you couldn't help but agree. This meadow was beautiful, the perfect place for a wedding.

Bonus:

Meleanor, officiating the wedding: "Are you sure you want to marry him? He's such a brat. One time when he was 150 years old-”

Lilia, the groom: "Meleanor, I swear..."

YN & Dawn, the bride and other groom respectively: *stifling their laughter*

[zazter-den]

Foul-Mouthed Frit | Stained Glass Circumstances Ch. 1

Series: Snippet #1, Snippet #2, Current

Synopsis- All stained glass begins as frit, but you're not as frit of the warrior in front of you as you probably should be.(Main Scene: Bakugou, Aftercare: Kirishima).

Warnings- Coerced NonCon, Oral Knotting, CumVom, Choking, Clothes Tearing, Degradation, Overstim, Org Denial, Slap(giving), Forced Bond, King/Consort Dynamic, Alt A/B/O, Yandere Bakugou.

Tags- Fantasy AU, BarbarianKing!Bakugou, Dragon!Kirishima, KingConsort!Reader, Black Haired Reader, Isekai, Creampie, Chin Grab, Excessive Seed, Aftercare.

Word Count- 7700, Chapter 1

Your heart thumped against your ribs, unease and curiosity battling it out, as you stood before the imposing blond warrior. On a good day, you couldn't help but feel out of place in the simple hand-me-down dress, a one of few mercies you received from the cold villagers when you arrived. Standing here in front of the decorated barbarian within the confines of the grandiose war tent, you felt dressed in little more than rags. Was this man here to finish the villager's sad attempt at uprising? Surely non-lethal injuries to a handful of soldiers, even if severe, didn't warrant a general's (or whoever's) presence.

Why am I here? I wasn't even involved.

The bodice of the scratchy dress felt nearly too tight to breathe, a physical pressure to match the growing weight of dread settling in your bones. It had been a month since your watery arrival to this world, but it hadn't taken long to miss your modern clothes, modern stressors, and the familiarity of home. A pang of longing shot through you like a static shock, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the intimidating figure ahead.

A shiver ran down your spine as you met the blond's piercing blood red gaze. His throne, made from the bones of fallen beasts long dead and a patterned patchwork of leather, only amplified the imposing aura surrounding him. With each passing moment, you couldn't help but feel like a small, insignificant creature in the presence of a predator.

"Pint-sized for a dragon, aren't ya?" the barbarian growled, his gruff voice boomed in the tense silence, tone heavy with amused disdain. A predatory smirk adorned his face, highlighting his intimidating yet undeniably attractive features. "You're quite the fuckin' anomaly."

Your eyes widened at his words, and for a moment you forgot your unease. You had become so used to the weight by this point that you honestly almost forgot. A hand instinctively went to touch the base of the draconic crystal horns that jutted back from your hairline, a bizzarre feature you had woken to on the lake shore, a side effect of the magic that had forced your entry to this unfamiliar world.

All of the lakeside villagers were human, but you had learned enough about this world's inhabitants to know that that you weren't a true dragon like the ones the citizens of this realm were familiar with—those with wings, a tail, and true dragon features. You are, at your core, still human, and really the horns were the only evidence to suggest otherwise. The asshole wasn't entirely wrong in calling you a mystery.

"Can tell you're no real dragon, some sorta bastard maybe" he remarked, rumbly voice smug. "Though I admit, those crystal horns of yours are intriguing 'nough. You'll pass as an addition to my collection."

You blinked once, twice, as you struggled for a mere second to process the words coming out of the pompous man's mouth before time seemed to resume again.

Should you have been scared? Probably.

But you weren't.

Your eyes narrowed to near slits with incredulity as you peered up at him. White hot anger filled your veins, fear of the undoubtedly dangerous strange warrior forgotten. Being a newcomer to the realm, you couldn't quite comprehend the gravity of the situation in standing before the man in front of you. Being an outsider to the village and their rebellion, also meant you weren't aware yet just how low cowards will sink to save their own skin.

" 'Collection'? " You repeated, scoffing loudly at his arrogance. The gall of him had your nerves shot and common sense short circuiting. All pretenses of appearing as a polite peasant were now firmly out the window, all bets were off. After a month of biting your tongue to rude villagers as you struggled to adjust to your new life, it felt amazing to spit exactly what you were thinking. "Who the fuck do you think you are, blondie?”

The fair haired barbarian's grin only widened at your boldness, relishing the rare occurance. It wasn't often someone had a big enough death wish to challenge him face to face.

"O, sweetheart, not just any 'blondie'," he sneered, weighing the weight his words had on you. "I'm yer fuckin' king." Enjoying the way shock washed over your face, anger clearly forgotten, overshadowed by the realization that you were standing before the most dangerous man in the kingdom.

King Bakugou's amusement was evident as he leaned forward in his seat, his eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction at your dumbstruck face. "D'ya wanna know why you're standin' in front of me?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension. "They offered ya to me, little anomaly," the barbaric royal continued, the corners of his lips curling into a cruel smile. "A barter for their miserable lives after a pitiful 'scuse of a rebellion."

You were shocked, your eyes meeting his with furious disbelief. "So, people I barely know, GAVE me to you to spare themselves?" your words were laced with anger and a sense of betrayal, unable to comprehend the depths of their craven desperation. Sure, they were cold to strangers, but to sacrifice you for their own lives wasn't something you had thought was even a possibility. Had it really been so foolish to want to believe they were finally warming up to you?

The barbarian king's expression hardened as he replied, his voice laced with a sharp edge. "Ya should feel honored," he snapped, his blood red eyes narrowing. Rising from his intimidating throne of giant bone and beast hide, he closed the distance between them with a purposeful stride. The sound of his heavy boots thudded against the packed ground within the war tent until he loomed over you.

“I rarely take consorts,” King Bakugou's hand shot out and firmly grasped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his piercing gaze. His touch was harsh, a firm reminder of the physical might that Bakugou wielded when he so chose. Your heart pounding in your chest as his fingernails dug into your jawline. Leaning in close, his face mere inches away from yours, his voice dropped to a low, dangerous rumble as he continued speaking. “especially not runt freaks like you." The disdain in the cold blooded king's tone sent a chill down your spine.

Your heart dropped, The weight of the revelation pressed heavy against your chest. Mind racing with anger and betrayal as you grappled with the harsh reality of your situation. You had only been in this unfamiliar realm for barely a few weeks and now you stood before the formidable barbarian king, a man who held the power of life and death over countless warriors and civilians alike.

It didn't take years of education, or really much common sense, to know the dangerous consequences of defying a medieval tyrant. You knew you had to keep your anger in check, to try to bite your tongue and submit. At least for now.

Your fate was sealed the moment you stepped into that fucking tent, and survival was now officially the priority.

King Bakugou's sadistic enjoyment of the situation was plain as he ruthlessly analyzed your appearance, his gaze lingering on the translucent crystal horns with an almost dismissive glance. "Yer horns are clear, nothin' special," he remarked, his voice dripping with annoyance. It was clear that your unique crystalline features held little significance in his opinion. However, as his eyes roamed down your body, a more sinister gleam sparked within them.

"Body, on the other hand, is fine enough for a concubine," the blond added with a twisted smirk, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. The shift of the dress' neckline sent a shiver down your spine, baring your shoulder to his inspection. Your heart beat faster as King Bakugou's piercing eyes bore into you, his actions invasive and dehumanizing. Your throat constricted in response to the humiliating position you found yourself in. Even having to resist the urge to pull your chin away from his grasp, knowing that defiance would only lead to suffering of some variety.

His eyes swept over your neck and shoulder, searching for any sign of a scar, any indication that you already belonged to another. You kept your gaze to the side, unnerved by the intensity of his bloody stare, a shiver rippled down your spine as his touch almost seemed to burn your skin.

"Good," he declared, a twisted smile tugging at his lips as his hot breath ghosting over the exposed skin. "No claim."

King Bakugou wasted no time in closing the remaining distance. Swiftly leaning down, he sank his canines into the smooth flesh with a forceful bite. However, unlike true mating, the barbaric blond did not release the necessary venom that would solidify an actual bond between souls.

The lack of numbing venom caused a sharp hiss to escape your lips, a mix of agony and indignation flooding your system. You might not have been here long and you certainly were no expert, but you knew the basics of mating marks, this world's lifelong courtship. It was a deliberate move, a clear reinforcement that he had no intentions of making you his equal partner in this arrangement. After all, you were merely a plaything, to be toyed with. You should be thankful not to be bound to the barbarian's soul, and yet you couldn't ignore the obvious insult. Or the pain.

The unexpected stabbing pain of fang sinking into flesh triggered a reflexive response, causing you to shove and slap Bakugou's face in a desperate attempt to free yourself from his grasp. The crack of your palm connecting with his cheek seemed to echo in the massive war tent, leaving a bright red handprint in its wake and a streak of crimson trailing down the king's chin.

The barbarian's eyes glowed with fierce delight, his feral nature taking enjoyment in the defiance of his new concubine. Despite the stinging pain in his cheek and the split in the corner of his upper lip from the strike, a low chuckle escaped King Bakugou's lips. "You've got guts, shitty horns, I'll give ya that much" he growled, his voice laced with a dark amusement as his tongue flicked over his split lip.

If you thought your heart was racing before, it certainly paled to the drumbeat it was pounding now.

You had dared to challenge the king, to strike him in a moment of instinct. If the tyrant himself marched to this village over a few maimed soldiers, what exactly was your punishment going to be? A part of you regretted the impulsive action, aware that it would only fuel the bestial nature of the tyrant and likely add to your own suffering...But another part of you couldn't suppress the thrill that surged through you when you slapped the shit out of him. You might be trapped in this new situation but you refused to be completely meek, cowering at his feet.

You would submit. But only as much as you had to.

As King Bakugou's wicked chuckle echoed in the confines of the tent, he swiped away the droplets of blood that trickled down his split lip, relishing in the taste. "Spirited whore, ha?" he continued with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You'll learn. 'Til then, I'm gonna enjoy breaking that attitude of yours."

Your breathing grew shallow as you just stared at the king, mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. You knew full well that true defiance would only bring more challenges, but still a small ember of resistance burned. You would not surrender completely, no matter the threat. And even bolstered with the courage of the dissociative haze that emotionally numbed you to the consequences of your actions, you still knew the danger was very real.

The red glistening imprint of his bite marked your delicate skin, a reminder of his sadistic tendencies and the cruel pleasure he derived from such acts. Your body trembled in frustration, mind grappling with the complex storm of emotions that threatened to take over reason. You may have to play the role forced on you but you would bide your time, until the opportunity presented itself.

And so began the balancing act.

"Your position, in this territory," the warrior king continued, his voice dripping with gruff superiority, "is t'be at my beck and call. You exist to serve my needs now, like any other fuckin' whore. An' rest assured, you will serve me well." With those words, he spun you around and pressed your abdomen hard against the tent's solid wood table, his hands gripping your hips possessively.

"Lemme show you your new role," Bakugou sneered, voice filled with dark promise. With one swift motion, he pulled the rough dress up to rest on your hips, baring your body to his gaze. His eyes hungrily took in your curves, his fingers ran up the exposed skin of your thighs and hips. Feeling his rough fingers trail over the sensitive areas of your thighs, you could feel yourself getting lost in the intensity of the touch.

The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as King Bakugou ripped apart the too-tight bodice, buttons popping off as your breasts spilled free from the barely reinforced fabric. His knees pressed painfully firm against the back of yours, effortlessly spreading your shaky legs apart. The motion trapped your hips against the edge of the table and exposed your pussy to to his gaze. Breath hitched as you felt the large tip of his hardened cock pressing against your slick entrance. Every inch of your body tensed. Judging from the thickness of his head alone, the lean warrior was larger than you expected him to be. Bakugou's girth tested your cunt's limits, forced to stretch wide. Initial entry was rough, inch by inch, as your pussy's tight walls struggled to accommodate the impressive length of the barbaric king's dick. The pleasurable ache making you fight to maintain composure.

Leaning forward on your forearms for support, your chest squished against the cold surface of the table. Fingernails dug into the smooth wood, your knuckles turning white with each of Bakugou's punishing thrusts. An unexpected surge of arousal coursed through your veins, and you decided to embrace the inevitable pleasure that his pace promised to bring.

Despite your feelings on the turn of events, your body responded to his coarse treatment, for the distracting orgasm and mind-numbing hormones that lay tantalizingly within reach. Determined to find some semblance of pleasure within your new prison, you forced yourself to shift your perspective. If you were going to be forced to be an object of desire, you may as well revel in the physical gratification it offered and claw back any benefit you could until you made your move.

As the table rocked against the packed dirt floor of the tent with each forceful thrust, the warrior royal couldn't resist mocking you. His voice was filled sadistic amusement. "Where'd all that fire go?" he taunted, amused by the contrast between your previous defiance and your current submissive state. "Don't tell me I already fucked it out of ya."

Your aching walls had struggled to accommodate his girth initially, causing you to tense up. You had to focus on consciously relaxing your body, allowing him to fuck you with more ease. The mixture of discomfort and increasing pleasure sent waves of heat coursing through your body, intensifying your arousal. At this point, you couldn't tell whether the fact that rough sex made your cunt leak like a faucet was a pro or a con.

You really couldn't help but snap back, voice loaded with a defiant edge. "You really like the sound of your own voice, huh, 'Your Highness'?" you quipped harshly, rolling your eyes knowing he would be unable to see, as you were swept up by the overwhelming pleasure of being fucked against the table.

Undeterred by your attempt at disrespect, Bakugou leaned forward over your bare back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. The warrior king's voice dripped with amusement as he addressed your lack of fear. "You're really not scared of me, are ya?" the blond chuckled sharply, the feeling of his hot breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Give it time," he sneered, his grip on your erect nipples tightening as he pinched and pulled. With a choked moan, your body arched instinctively in response, a symphony of conflicting sensations flooding your body.

Your black curls bounced with each punishing thrust, your body pressed against the dull edge of the table, the hard surface digging into your hips with a force that promised to leave bruised reminders of your afternoon in the days to come. The brutal intensity behind Bakugou's movements overwhelmed you, leaving you breathless and at his mercy.

Just when you thought you had found a rhythm, just when you though you were getting close to finally cumming- the royal bastard abruptly withdrew, his cock's sizeable head dragging along the walls of your dripping passage. A soft indignant gasp escaped your lips as the sudden emptiness left you yearning for release. Inner walls involuntarily clenched in a futile attempt to hold onto the fleeting pleasure, not that you would ever admit it out loud.

He took a moment to enjoy your needy frustration before thrusting back inside with renewed intensity. Each powerful movement caused your body to arch and quiver in response, teetering on the razor's edge between ecstasy and torment. Despite the lingering defiance in your heart, your cunt betrayed you, subconsciously craving the pleasure that Bakugou pounded into you. The aching bite at the junction of your neck felt hot, as your nipples squeezed between his vice-like fingers.

Your walls eagerly embraced the renewed pounding, tightening around him in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pleasure he provided. The overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through your body, sparking sensations that threatened to consume entirely. As the table creaked under the combined weight, your gasps and moans filled the air, merging with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and groaning wood. The intensity of the king's pace, each thrust pushing you closer to cumming around the thick cock slamming in and out of your needy hole.

As your body neared the peak of pleasure, King Bakugou enjoyed the control he had over you, keeping that orgasm just out of reach. Each time you felt the pleasure building within you reach that breaking point, he would cruelly withdraw, denying you much needed relief. The frustration reached a boiling point,as your walls involuntarily clenched desperately around the thick ridge of his cockhead in a feeble attempt to keep it inside.

"Stop fucking teasing me!" you shot over your shoulder in irritation. The pleasure that coursed through your veins was distracting, clouding your mind and amplifying your need to cum. The denial of your orgasm left you on the edge in what felt like a perpetual state of yearning, body aching for the release that the feral blond held in his cruel grasp.

As King Bakugou repositioned himself, angling his thrusts to target your most sensitive spots, and the pleasurable torment of denial continued. The conflicting sensations pushed you further towards either heaven or hell. With how your legs trembled with both the overstimulation of your poor pussy's stretched walls and the unbearable need to cum, you weren't sure which you were closer to.

"Ha? Think ya forgot who serves who here," bloody eyes narrowing as he sneered, his arrogant tone held an unrestrained hunger. A wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he drank in your frustration. He took great sadistic pleasure in this game. Knowing that, despite your protests, he had the power to bring you to the edge of cumming and keep. You. Trapped. There.

As the twisted dance between pleasure and denial continued, your body reacted eagerly to every movement, cunt walls fluttering near constantly in desperate need of fulfillment. Each time King Bakugou withdrew, your inner muscles clenched around the massive disappearing tip, another futile attempt to hold onto the pleasure that slipped through your grasp.

Wet, squelching sounds filled the air as he pounded back into your gushing pussy. The table beneath you was sticky with your juices, and his blood red gaze spotted a string of viscous slick suspended mid-air between the edge of the table and the packed dirt floor below.

With each turn of Bakugou's cruel cycle, a symphony of profanity spilled from your parted lips. Your body shook with the weight of unfulfilled lust, aching for the relief that seemed cruelly just out of reach. The rise and fall of your emotions danced in harmony with the motion of their bodies, humiliating frustration fueling your foul mouthed whimpers.

"'N fact," Bakugou laughed, gruff voice filled with sadistic glee, "I think that tongue o' yours has earned ya a punishment."

The barbarian's fingers curled around your quartz horns, his grip possessive and firm. As his grip tightened, you barely felt the dull ache spreading from the base of your horns through the haze of pleasure and overstimulation. The strain on your neck was evident, your head tilted back to reveal the garnet red bite print marring your exposed skin.

With a deliberate slowness, King Bakugou pulled back on your crystalline horns, his hold firmly guiding you until your upper body was no longer supported by the table's wooden surface. Weakened by the cruel cycle of ecstasy and denial imposed on you, your legs trembled with the effort to remain upright. The shift in position caused a head rush as you fought to remain standing upright. Turns out, you wouldn't need to fight that battle for long.

Using your horns as a guide, Bakugou yanked you down to kneel before him. Obediently following his command, your weakened knees sunk against the hard packed dirt beneath you. The shift in posture brought about a new level of submission, body now positioned at his feet, ready to fulfill the king's desires.

Bakugou's massive member hung heavy above you, his imposing figure towering over as he peered down with cruel superiority. "Ever get your mouth washed out with soap?" he sneered, a wicked grin stretching across his face.

With a snarky retort already forming on the tip of your tongue, you opened your mouth to deliver a biting response. However, in that moment of distraction, the massive cock head shoved past your lips, the sudden intrusion catching you off-guard. A muffled gag sound escaped your throat, eyes widening in surprise as King Bakugou claimed your mouth with little mercy. Musk filled your senses, the unexpected violation left you momentarily stunned. Your eyes watered as you struggled to accommodate his size, jaw stretched to its limits while King Bakugou hissed in pleasure at the feel of your hot tongue against his dick.

A gasp of surprise escaped your lips, muffled by Bakugou's large cock as he took advantage of the opening you unwittingly provided and began to thrust. The rough motion caused your tongue to press against the underside of the massive member, tasting both of you. The initial shock gave way to a mix of conflicting sensations - humiliation, arousal, and a begrudging surrender.

Your throat constricted around the tip of his dick as you fought against your body's instinctive gag reflex. The taste of your combined arousal filled your mouth, the combination of his precum and your own slick coating your tongue with every thrust. With each attempt, guided by the iron grip he held on your crystalline horns, you managed to swallow a little more of his length, throat stretching in an attempt to accommodate his girth. The barbaric king's control remained unyielding. He roughly guided your movements with an unwavering grip on your horns, forcing the pace at which you took him deeper. The sight of your struggle only made him grip you tighter, setting a faster pace.

You looked good, all fuckdrunk at his feet, submitting to his desires without question.

With each inch you took down your throat, your breathing became increasingly labored. Your eyes flitted upwards as much as possible, trying to meet his gaze as you continued to obey his every command. Teary eyes pleaded for mercy, yearning for the release that was just out of reach, as you continued to let King Bakugou's thrust into your throat. Bakugou locked gazes with you. It wasn't that he ignored your pitiful puppy eyes, all watery and unfocused, but it didn't certainly have the outcome you were begging for. His pace sped up, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his climax.

Your eyes narrowed in confusion and as you felt a new ridge near the base of his cock begin to swell. It took you by surprise, lips forced to start to form an O-shape as you struggled to comprehend what was happening. You mumbled uselessly around the resulting barrier, only managing to press your tongue harder against the enlarged gland.

"Never seen an alpha before?" King Bakugou asked incredulously, the tone of his voice heavy with pompous amusement. "Ya really are a fuckin' freak, this'll be fun" he added, sadistically excited for the surprise in store for you.

The swelling knot created a tight seal against your teeth, effectively trapping your tongue in a frenzy of desperate, frantic movements. As his lust hit a peak, Bakugou looked down at you with dark satisfaction, the intensity of his gaze piercing into your very being. His words cut through the pounding of blood in your ears, his mean grin widening.

"Y're gonna want to breathe through your nose when ya can," he instructed as his hips started to stutter, cruel grin never faltering. "For the next ten minutes at least." He took great joy in the power he held over you, knowing full well the challenge he was about to present. His groans of pleasure were the only warning of his orgasm that you got besides the pulse of his knot, before waves of warm cum were cascading down your throat. You fought against the rising panic, you just needed to relax you told yourself. The taste of his seed flooded the back of your throat, your lips stretched around his swollen knot, as you braced yourself to endure the minutes to come.

Your breathing grew ragged as you tried to comply with the barbaric king's instruction, the pressure of his spurts down your throat sending your body into a state of sensory overload. Each surge of his cum filled the back of your mouth, forcing you to swallow to make room for more, so you wouldn't be overwhelmed. Nose pressed against the coarse, orange wires of his pubic hair, your breaths coming in short gasps as you struggled to find enough air.

Your sore throat bobbed with each gulp, lips sealed tightly around Bakugou's pulsing knot. You followed his instructions, taking quick breaths through flared nostrils whenever his spurts allowed a moment of respite. As you continued to swallow the seemingly never-ending load, your eyes watered and throat contracted around the royal's throbbing cock. Bakugou ran his thumb over your neck, tracing over the ridge his twitching cockhead made in your throat, causing you to choke and sputter, your reflexive gag wrapped around his dick.

The primal sounds of you gagging and swallowing seemed to fuel Bakugou, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he reveled in your struggle to regain control of your reflexes. He found the cruel game fun, knowing that you had to drink every single drop or be overwhelmed by the seed that filled your mouth. As the barbaric king rolled his hips, his cock milked one last time by your tight walls, the deflating knot slipped past your teeth with a squelching pop. You felt each inch slowly withdraw from your pained throat, eliciting a mix of both relief and a weird sense of emptiness. Your jaw ached from the strain, throat raw and bruised from the rough treatment. Cum dripped from your swollen lips, a shiny string dripping towards the ground between your knees.

You leaned back against the leg of the heavy table, body boneless and weak from the intense sex. Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, senses still reeling from the experience. The taste of his cum still lingered in your mouth, a reminder of of just how well you had performed your role.

His cruel grin twisted with satisfaction as he held your weak chin with his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your glassy gaze to meet his blood red eyes. The arrogance in his voice was evident as he spoke, his words laced with a mocking tone.

"You did well, little whore," King Bakugou taunted, "Maybe you'll last longer than the others." His words cut through you like a knife, a reminder of your place and his complete control over the situation.

And it only got worse.

Your stomach churned, the fullness from consuming the sheer volume of cum you did, mixed with the exhaustion and strain on your body. It was rapidly becoming too much to bear. The taste of his bitter seed lingered in your mouth, adding to the increasing waves of nausea that welled up. With shaky legs, you bolted towards the clean bucket next to the table, a hand clamped over your mouth. Face contorted in anguish as you reached it just in time, hunching over and emptying the viscous contents of your stomach into the wood container, a curtain of dark curls obscuring the action.

Wave after wave of white, thick cum splashed into the bucket. Your throat burned even more from the forceful expulsion, tears streaming down your face as you tried to catch your breath between stomach spasms and hiccups.

Meanwhile, Bakugou simply rolled his crimson eyes in annoyance. He watched with a scowl as you succumbed to the ill effects of being orally knotted for first time, his own sense of satisfaction completely unaffected. The king redressed himself in his leather breeches, his muscular chest displayed proudly. He made no move to help or console you, instead commenting with a disdainful tone

"Y're gonna have to get better at that," he sneered, his dissatisfaction with the newest addition to his collection clear as day. Without a backward glance, he exited the tent, leaving you seething with roiling resentment.

As you continued to glare daggers at his retreating back over the rim of the bucket, an unbreakable determination burned in your eyes. The interaction had further solidified your disdain for the barbarian king. One way or another, you swore to yourself, you were going to find a way to make that man miserable.

Bakugou made his way through the field, his strides thudding quickly across the field. His blood red eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the lush greenery and wind rustling through the grass and leaves. In the distance, he spotted Captain Kirishima, his towering figure standing tall on a hill overlooking the lake.

The captain of the king's guard, tall and muscular, wore his signature dark grey uniform adorned with a crimson cloak denoting his station. His mane of long, vibrant red hair cascaded down his back, and his curved ruby horns glinted in the late afternoon light. Nearing a staggering seven feet, Kirishima towered over most humans and dragons alike. With a languid stretch of his wings and tail, he looked every bit the formidable dragon he was. Even though his stature was imposing- off the battlefield, there was a softness to his facial features, a warmth in his scarlet eyes that contradicted his formidable appearance.

Stretching his wings and tail with a contented yawn, Kirishima paused mid-spread as he noticed his long time friend approaching. His scarlet eyes widened in alarmed confusion as he caught sight of the split upper lip on the king's face.

"What happened to your lip?" Kirishima asked baffled, his tail and wings still unintentionally frozen extended as he waited.

Bakugou's grin widened, his blood-red eyes shining with a mischievous glint. He licked his split upper lip, savoring the sting that still lingered from your bold and unexpected slap. The memory of the defiance brought a twisted satisfaction to the king.

"Hah! The village's 'peace offering' turned out fiesty" he responded, a hint of admiration laced within his tone. The fact that you had the audacity to strike him, the mighty Murder King Bakugou, had caught the barbarian off guard at the time, but it definitely made you more interesting.

Kirishima's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, his tail flicking. "They attacked you?" he asked taken aback, “Are they still breathing?” The captain knew that the barbaric ruler was not one to tolerate defiance easily, let alone physical attempts to challenge his authority. Kirishima's mind flooded with questions, but he kept them to himself as he awaited further explanation from his commanding king.

Bakugou's smug grin widened even further, his blood red eyes sparkling with perverse delight. "Oh, they're alive," he responded, his voice dripping with a sadistic satisfaction, "Just paying for their little outburst, that's all."

The words hung in the air, the implication clear. The king's tone hinted at the punishment the new consort was enduring in the privacy of the tent.

Although he hadn't yet met the new concubine, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy towards them. Having grown up with the royal, he knew firsthand the levels of wrath Bakugou could reach. Despite these conflicting emotions, Kirishima's primary concern was ensuring the well-being of those in the king's care, even if it meant treading carefully in the sea of Bakugou's own volatile temper. It often fell to the loyal captain to keep the king from committing actions he would regret later. Well, less regret and more inconvenience him.

"'n fact, you're on babysitting duty while I deal with the village," Bakugou said, the murderous glint in his bloody eyes betraying his enjoyment of the situation. The king's command echoed in Kirishima's ears, causing his ruby scaled tail to stiffen and his broad shoulders to tense.

Kirishima let out a silent exhale, disappointment etched across his face as he processed the news. In truth, he had hoped that Bakugou would choose to spare the villagers and seek a peaceful resolution instead of resorting to violence. The captain believed that the actions of a few rebels should not warrant bloodshed on such a scale. After all, the villagers had made multiple peace offerings to appease the barbaric king, it felt like a breach of honor for Bakugou to now go back on that agreement.

However, Kirishima knew better than to openly challenge his friend's authority. He respected the position Bakugou held and understood the consequences of rebellion. Biting his tongue, Kirishima buried his disappointment and gave a casual bow to his commanding ruler, before making his way towards the tent on the hilltop.

Kirishima stepped into the large tent, his unfurled wings brushing against the side as he entered. His wings, magnificent and majestic, spanned wide, their vibrant ruby scales shimmering under the soft glow of the tent's filtered light. The ruby scales continued down the length of his long, sinuous tail, adding a touch of elegance to his formidable presence.

As his fiery ruby eyes landed on you, Kirishima's first thought was one of surprise. The person who had struck King Bakugou looked a lot less imposing than he had anticipated. You, unlike the powerful and intimidating dragons Kirishima was used to, stood before him at a mere average human stature. If that. The only discernible dragon feature you possessed were the crystal dragon horns that adorned your head, gleaming subtly in the low lit tent. His scaled tail swayed slightly, displaying a mix of curiosity and caution.

Your eyes widened as they met Kirishima's for the first time, and your body tensed instinctively. You had been thoroughly exhausted, both physically and emotionally, by your round with Bakugou. Your throat was raw and voice gone, leaving you unable to deliver the defiant expletives you desperately wanted to snarl at the imposing dragon that had just entered the tent. But your voice failed you, leaving you with only one avenue of expression.

With a fierce hiss, you expelled every ounce of ferocity you had left buried within. Your body tensed, lips curling back in a display of bare teeth. The hiss reverberated within the confines of the tent, a desperate attempt to communicate defiance to Kirishima, to convey that you would not be dominated or humiliated any further today.

The captain took a step back, scarlet eyes swept over your form, they couldn't help but notice the torn remnants of your bodice on the floor and the ripped dress clinging to your body. The rips and tears spoke volumes of the intense encounter you had undergone at the hands of King Bakugou. His gaze then landed on the mark that marred the delicate skin of your neck—an unmistakable claim.

Kirishima's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mind reeling with the implications.

As a dragon, Kirishima understood the significance of such a bite - it bound two souls together, sealing their connection as life partners in a way that couldn't be severed. When done correctly.

Marking a consort with a claim without fully mating them was not unheard of, but it was generally met with extreme judgment. Claims in terms of mating were typically reserved for life partners, a commitment that extended beyond physical desire. Nobles, known for their fickle nature and ever-shifting loyalties, often chose to mark their consorts with more temporary symbols, such as collars.

The ornate collars allowed the royals to easily discard their concubines when they grew bored. The nobility were notorious for their fickleness and often left their consorts behind as they moved on to fresh pursuits. By marking a consort with a bite with no intention of making you an equal, Bakugou had not only defied what little merciful convention held by the upper class but also inflicted a cruel fate upon you in Kirishima's eyes. The mark would make it near impossible for you to find a true mate, forever branded as the king's property.

Kirishima couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment towards his lifelong friend. While he knew the barbarian ruler's tendencies on the battlefield, he hadn't thought Bakugou would exhibit such cruelty towards a consort, knowing you would likely be discarded at some point. Kirishima's own sense of honor and loyalty clashed with the conflicting emotions he felt, itching at the back of his mind as he observed the vulnerable state you found yourself in.

The captain's gaze lingered on your throat, noticing the subtle signs of strain and discomfort. The realization for the hissing aggression struck Kirishima like a bolt of lightning. You had lost your voice, and it wasn't due to natural causes or illness. No, it became clear to him that it was likely a result of your first tryst with King Bakugou, an experience that he could only imagine had been rough and brutal, throat rubbed raw from the repetitive acts demanded of you.

Feeling a surge of empathy, Captain Kirishima decided to ease the intimidating aura he unintentionally projected. He understood that his imposing stature must be overwhelming to you, given the turn of events. He folded his wings against his back, their vibrant red membranes pressed tightly together, confining their expansive span. The act served to minimize his physical presence, making him appear less threatening. He slouched slightly, adopting a more relaxed stance, and kept his hands visible, showing that he meant no harm. It was a deliberate display of non-aggression, aimed at putting you at ease, or at least as much at ease as one could be in such circumstances.

The red dragon's eyes softened as he noticed the weary look on your face. He could see the exhaustion etched into every line, body still trembling from the recent ordeals you had endured. Determined to offer some solace in this tumultuous situation, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

With slow deliberate steps, Kirishima moved away from you and towards a pile of chests near the entrance of the war tent. These chests contained spoils from the village, items meant to appease the king after their attack on his soldiers. Kirishima knew that among them, there was a chest filled with garments. Opening one of the chests, he carefully sifted through the contents until he found a fine yet simple dress that roughly matched your size.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kirishima's lips as he gently tossed the dress onto the table, positioning it between the tow of you. Its delicate fabric fluttering in the air before settling down over the wood. It was a small gesture, but meant to convey that he harbored no ill intentions.

It was a silent message that you deserved respect and dignity, even in this tumultuous situation.

Sensing that you needed some space to collect yourself and change, Kirishima took a much smaller chest from the pile. He left the tent, giving you room to breathe and reckon with the pent-up emotions that surely swirled like storm clouds.

As the cool mountain breeze blew through his hair, Kirishima found a suitable spot a few paces from the tent, overlooking the serene lake in the warm hues of late afternoon light. With deftness and precision, he constructed a small firepit, arranging the rocks in a circle. As the dragon exhaled softly, a gentle stream of fire escaped his lips, the light glinting off his curved ruby horns. The flickering flames danced and crackled, casting a comforting glow over the hilltop.

As the captain patiently waited for the water to heat, he glanced back towards the war tent, briefly catching sparkle of your horns through the opening. His heart went out to you. Though he understood the gravity of Bakugou's actions, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of responsibility in making sure you felt as comfortable as possible, despite the circumstances.

Just as the water in the kettle neared boiling, Kirishima activated his innate talent. His hands hardened, gaining an impressive durability that allowed him to handle the intense heat without harm. With a swift motion, he reached for the kettle, hands possessing the resilience of a dragon's scales. His grip was confident and steady as he effortlessly removed the kettle from the fire, preventing the water from boiling. He gently tossed the healing tea leaves into the kettle, watching as they swirled and danced in the near-boiling water. The soothing aroma of the tea began to waft through the air, carrying with it hints of delicate flowers and calming herbs.

With a careful hand, Kirishima reached into the tea chest, procuring a magnificent stained glass teacup that shimmered in hues of red and amber. Draconic stained glass was a rarity, prized for its strength and ethereal beauty. The light of the late sun cascaded through the vibrant colors, casting an enchanting glow on his hands.

Unwrapping the glass bottles, the captain uncorked the crystallized honey and yuzu peel. He slowly poured a generous amount of honey into the teacup, its golden texture illuminated by the sunlight. Next, he added a pinch of the fragrant dried yuzu peel, allowing its subtly sweet and citrusy scent to infuse the air. These ingredients held healing properties, meant to soothe and restore vitality to worn souls. The captain took extra care, ensuring that the precise balance of ingredients was met, creating a concoction that he hoped would bring some measure of comfort to your weary spirit.

With a quiet exhale, Kirishima patiently awaited the completion of the tea's steeping process. He hoped that the healing properties of the tea, combined with the warmth and tranquility of their surroundings, would provide a much-needed respite for your body and mind. In this moment of quiet reflection, he couldn't help but hope that this small act of kindness would bring some solace amidst the chaos that was now your new life in royal confines.

As the tantalizing fragrance of the healing tea filled the air, it didn't take long for you to emerge from the confines of the tent, eyes cautiously studying Kirishima's every move. Clad in the simple yet elegant dress he had provided you, features betraying a mix of cautious curiosity, before you fully exited the tent.

Scarlet eyes met yours as he poured the infused brew into the stained-glass teacup, the colors of the evening sun casting a mesmerizing glow through its amber and red hues. With a delicate touch, he extended the teacup towards you, his gentle gesture offering a sense of peace and comfort amongst the chaos.

Your gaze flickered between the beautiful teacup in Kirishima's hands and his eyes, wariness slowly giving way to a glimmer of trust. You lowered yourself onto the cushion placed by the fire, its warmth seeping through the fabric and into your tired body. Settling in, you positioned yourself to face the serene vista of the lake, where the calm waters mirrored the vibrant shades of the setting sun.

Kirishima, mindful of your nervous vigilance, kept his movements steady and reassuring. His hand extended further, confidently offering you the teacup of healing brew. The crimson colored light filtering through the stained glass seemed to dance and flicker as if carrying with it a promise of respite.

A soft smile tugged at Kirishima's lips as he spoke, his voice gentle yet filled with earnest sincerity. "Can we start over? I'm Captain Kirishima." In that simple statement, he hoped to convey that he was not just a guard but someone who, at their heart, genuinely cared. Someone who would listen and support you, should you choose to share your burdens.

He waited patiently, the teacup held delicately between the two of you, awaiting your response. In this moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of the lake and the tender offering of healing tea, he hoped that they could find a glimmer of solace and a fresh beginning.

IRL Safety Disclaimer: Never Pull A Partner Up By Their Hair Off of a Surface. You Will Injure Someone.

Taglist: @themythicaldisaster

Comments and Reblogs carry me through the week!

[bullet-and-brain]

no one really talks about this but dan heng and pom-pom could have a Really Funny dynamic, btw. theres one scenario in particular that i would like to propose:

> pom-pom, who, despite the obvious irony, will not allow pets on the astral express. they’re convinced that the maintenance and cleanup would actually send them into overdrive- five trailblazers who “secretly” love to aggravate their conductor is enough of a challenge. they keep their shedding to an absolute minimum, but won’t allow pets due to their own inability to do so (though this policy applies to all animals, regardless of the presence of fur).

> dan heng, famously simple guy who is Definitely Human, who has kept his draconic heritage a closely-guarded secret. even after revealing this part of himself to protect his crewmates, he continues to inhabit his ‘human form’ most of the time- this is largely due to trauma warping his self-perception, fueled by his own reflection. thankfully, it does get better.

better, in such a way that dan heng can sometimes stand his own appearance, or that march occasionally gets the pleasure of touching his horns. better at wielding his cloudhymn magic on a regular basis, even if only to refill his glass in the dead of the night.

(naturally, something has to go wrong, because the entirety of the universe is absolutely out to get him. it’s not on the same caliber as being impaled cleanly through the heart- this is ranked much, much higher on his list titled ‘suffering’, because dan heng has just begun to get comfortable in his own skin, and pom-pom thinks there’s a pet on the express.)

the patience of a bipedal, toddler-sized rabbit should, under no circumstances, be tested- dan heng is a man whose will to live has since been rekindled, and so he keeps his antics somewhat close to a minimum. with this in mind, the conductor is willing to give their dutiful archivist the benefit of the doubt when faintly-glimmering turquoise scales begin to litter their dustpan. perhaps it’s an art project of sorts, or the grooves within the soles of someone’s boots have trapped shedded relics from a snake-infested land. it’s only when pom-pom comes across stray fur that the situation becomes increasingly difficult to ignore; it’s not of the short, plush variety that, on rare occasions, annoyingly sticks to their clothes. no, this is strand in particular is so long that they almost mistake it for human hair, an otherwise easy conclusion to make if not for the distinctive teal hue and slight wave pattern. pom-pom has no doubt in their mind, some naughty passenger is smuggling an animal aboard the express, and they WILL get to the bottom of it.

(cue a ‘family meeting’, in which:

-dan heng wishes to evaporate

-the conductor learns of what actually happened on the luofu

-nobody else can go two seconds without muffling their laughter in a way that discards any hope of subtlety)

i wish they interacted more in the game ajajhshs. also for anyone who wasn’t aware, there’s actually post 1.3 (i believe?) dialogue where pom-pom asks what happened with dan heng, because he’s being too secretive or wtv. they eventually drop it but that’s what prompted this

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune Character Info - Susie

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Text version under the read more:

Name: Susie  Being: Eldritch Beast Info: The very first eldritch beast that Kris befriends, Susie is a powerful reptile monster with the usual sharp claws and crushing tail. She is often rude and crude, eager to stomp on anything that so much as looks at her funny, but has her own rarely-seen soft sides…it might just take the right acts to bring them out. Abilities: Susie’s defining feature is her insatiable hunger. While other Eldritch Monsters may eat a mortal when attacking, Susie will eat anything and everything, although human mortals are her preferred food. Due to a strange magical quirk, Susie is much, much larger on the inside. Anyone unfortunate enough to get eaten alive by her may be wandering for days in her labyrinthian stomach before she eventually digests them, even digesting their soul. She also carries a constant draconic heat, which under the right circumstances can result in her breathing fire, although she usually can’t control this ability.

[kagooleo]

so with confidence I present my rarepair...fluffyriceshipping!

they were originally a joke ship (which was my last chance to get out) but they grew on me more and more throughout last year, and months later they've become my favorite pair to draw! their name was the funniest thing to make of them because i got to joke around with their jpn names

the tl:dr of them is that there's a lot of good drama to make of thirty-somethings with the weight of responsibility of their respective cultures on their shoulders, as well as their personal thoughts of the trainers of their respective regions, all this culminating together to be really compelling for me to develop, so I'll ramble a Whole lot more under the cut about them :D!!

~

ok now that the people that wanted to see more about what i'm crazy about when i'm not online are here you guys better prepare for the worddump lmao

before they meet its postgame and they’re both in their thirties (early to mid), lance post gsc/hgss still upholds his champion position and managing the dragon's den alongside any g-man/undercover rocket work on the side (in workaholic mode), riley post dppt is occasionally battling at the battleground but also holing himself up with patrols on iron island and doing egg research and training his aura (Also in workaholic mode)

i'd say all the work makes byron and roark try to get him a break from all that, convincing him at some point to take a vacation! see the sights my guy you've been workin yourself to the bone

it's canonically shown in hgss that riley does appear as a partner for the battle tower, so at some point he is in johto! the region resonates with his cultural sensibilities so maybe he revisits it again to instead actually relax there.

lance would probably catch his hat flying away when he's visiting elm's lab (a fellow egg researcher) in new bark and riley would have absolutely fell first for him (and i'm a sucker for meet-cutes,,,)

and from there they hit it off! being both skilled trainers in their own right they battle and go out to eat after and talk about their family (clair and the elders, for riley's case his family friends byron and roark), their culture (dragon clans and aura guardians), and then when they talk about their respective trainer kiddos (silver and dawn) something clicks between them (it’s a Really rough snippet but hopefully it’s decent)-

"Do you have any kids? I know the news loves to make up some kind of story about secret love affairs with a random person." the guardian says, awkwardly.

Lance smiles, "Oh, yeah! I have one but he's technically not mine." Riley chokes on his iced tea.

"I'm sorry?" A million thoughts roll through his mind as he processes his words said so matter-of-factly.

"Haha, sorry, sorry, I'm only partly joking."

"E-Elaborate..."

The champion explains the general gist of things as he's met him, Silver, his kid-by-odd-circumstance, was homeless for a while, but was training alongside some other up and coming trainers. Uncovering some Rocket related files, he learns he's the son of the boss of the entire organization, and after some on and off meetings he eventually got him a place to stay at the Dragon's Den, and soon after began living with him at his place when he warmed up to the idea of adoption.

There are times he gets overwhelmed with all that he's been through, and some nights its all too much. But Lance was there with him, stayed with him every step of the way, unlike the one who gave him that abandonment anxiety in the first place.

"He's my kid, not by blood, and maybe not by his family, either. But instead, by his own decision he chose to stay with me. I'd want him to keep the freedom he has now." Lance states, firmly. "And now he's grown up as strong as I believed he could. I'm proud of him, as much as he tends to deny that." Riley senses his draconic aura swell with pride, mixed with a humbling sincerity in his words.

"What about you? Any kids of your own?" the sudden flip of the question surprises the guardian briefly.

"N-Nothing adoptive but…I suppose it's similar, in a way to meeting them as you have."

The guardian's turn, now. Dawn was someone he met when he was training on Iron Island, and also served as a guide to get her through the caverns. When he felt something off in the aura surrounding the area, he eventually learned of Galactic causing the pokemon on the island to feel restless and agitated. With her, they were able to clear the island of their antics and even gifted her a Riolu egg on her journey. From there, he was impressed with how strong she was, and did hear from Cynthia that she raised his present up to evolving her into a Lucario. He couldn't have been happier.

That was the case, until he caught the aftermath of the events of Mt. Coronet.

What Cyrus did, the lengths he'd go to, and dragging the both of them into a mess that could have torn the world apart.

After that, Dawn stayed home for a while. Cynthia put him as a contact for her mom, who was really worried for her. With his aura and her friends, Lucas and Barry, they were a big help for her recovery. And eventually, after a lot of time and work, she became the region's champion. She messages every now and then to him, as processing any trauma is never an easy road, but he realized how lucky she was to have the people she'd met to keep her steady, and knew she'll be alright.

"I...still wish I could've done more for her," Riley says, quieter. "Cynthia told me about what happened in that other world, and it...it was a lot for Dawn, a lot of emotions to help her figure out." he finishes, sheepish.

"…I don't blame you for feeling that way, I wouldn't know what to do in a scenario like that, either." the champion says, unsure too.

"It's amazing, in a way. All these kids going through so much on their own. I'd be proud were it not so scary, realizing how young they are to go through what they have been through."

"There's only so much you really can do, as an adult. I've realized that fact a long time ago." Lance's aura felt oddly melancholic, as bright and pretty as it may appear. "It's either immediate or slow when things change for them, and sometimes you'll have to make a choice on the spot when the time comes for them to decide what they want to do." It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, but the melancholy makes it appear that he's had some regrets.

“I trust in them to find their own path, eventually. When they’re together, those kids are gonna be alright on their own.”

His reassurance helped, even if only by a small amount.

-

I should make some kind of master post about them at some point but WAH god I’m so happy I can actually put them together in pokemon masters, they’ve really grown on me and I’ve developed a lot for the both of them in my free time, but yeah this is the rarepair that’s been on my brain for ages now, a gaze into my goo brain 🤪

[bunchashapes]

as per your previous ask -- what's your favorite idea for a "twist" on conventional fantasy tropes/races/etc. either in a setting you're working on or just as a one-off thought that has entertained you.

this question is from a while back and i keep forgetting to answer it. i will happily take this opportunity to soapbox about my own setting so allow me a moment to talk about elves. or more specifically, dragons.

Dragons are basically extinct in modern times, but people still recognize them as they appear in legends; big scaly guys with regal wings, covered head to toe in scales, capable of exerting overwhelming elemental power. While this isn’t untrue, dragons are actually more legend than beast. “Dragon” more accurately describes a power that supersedes biology or even life itself. The very IDEA of dragons is an interminable force of nature. As such, anything can BECOME a dragon. A city-shattering hurricane with enough momentum can become a dragon, as can say, an exploding star (even a particularly angry swarm of bees, given enough determination, can become a dragon).

So what happens when ancient humans attempted to attune to draconic magic themselves? That’s where you get Elves! Long-lived, elegant, and intimately familiar with magic, the first elves were the result of an attempt to ascend to dragonhood, some more successful than others. In fact, especially long-lived and powerful elves can grow even closer to dragonhood, taking on any number of dragon-like qualities (this is where you’d slot in dnd-style dragonborn, except these would be EXCEEDINGLY rare) and under the right circumstances, an elf can even pass the threshold to dragonhood…

In terms of visual design, elves are pretty standard fare with the long ears and all (they tend to have long necks like elves in divinity) but also have the potential to have tails! The more “true” an elf, the more unnervingly slender and draconic they look, but in the context of say, a ttrpg, this just means you get a lot of little options for what type of elf you want. anyway that’s elves :)

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

Okay, I'll continue talking! So as we all know, RC9GN frequently involves characters being turned into rampaging monsters through no real fault of their own. And then there's Evil Julian, who was a whole thing. What I'm saying is, the Ninja cast are not strangers to the idea of people being forced into evil the way Chase was... but I don't think Chase goes around telling people about his tragic backstory unless he's trying to make a point. So, like, do any of them know Chase is technically under the influence of a mind-altering substance? That he didn't want to be like this, he just didn't want his best friend to leave him behind? Under what circumstances might the First Ninja find out? Under what circumstances might Randy find out?

Of course, what happened to Chase is definitely not the same thing as what happens to people under the Sorcerer's influence. For one, it's a lot more permanent. It's pretty clear in Xiaolin Showdown that Chase is too far gone and can't be cured at this point, if he ever could have been. The only way to stop him from ending a haughty, self-centered dragon would be to stop him from drinking the soup to begin with. And he's still himself on some level. As you said, he still has honor, he can still care, he's still capable of independent rational thought. It seems less like possession and more like very targeted (evil) brain damage. At the same time, this does mean it's technically possible for Chase to turn his back on what he's become. He may never be who he was again, but he can still change, as Omi believes he can. Though jury's out if he believes he can change. Anyway, there's a lot of drama to be wrung out of this, especially if the First Ninja realizes he probably would have liked the man Chase used to be.

Also, I'm just saying, the First Ninja denying that he chained up his evil husband to stop Chase from hurting people while he searches for a cure to the curse that makes Chase evil would be very funny.

OKAY OW HANG ON LISTEN The idea of First deciding to chain up Chase not just because he is an evil menace, but also in order to find a cure for his transformation, hit me so unexpectedly hard in the feels, like FR DUDE???? OW???

(Even if it is a bit of funny mental image AND the wording 'targeted evil brain damage' made me snort so hard, oh my god im so sorry.)

There is an argument/theory about how technically Chase doesn't need to constantly drink the Soup (based on how in alternative future, captured by Jack, Chase didn't drink it in captivity, and as soon as he was released he was kinda bordering on 'feral' lizard mode - Soup helps him keep in control AND keep ahold of his human form, rather that he is absolutely dependant on it), but he does it because he is, well, basically addicted to it.

SO it would be more of First chaining his Evil Brain Damaged Addict of (totally not a) Husband in order for to find a most likely nonexisting cure to his cursed (????) transformation. The ANGST POTENTIAL of it.

And your first points are so interesting and absolutely valid! Chase's situation can be compared to Stank-ification, but you know what would make an even more interesting comparison? The Sorcerer himself.

I think we often forget that technically, Sorcerer situation is him being separated from his humanity and twisted into an immortal monster by Chaos Pearls, because he - as the Peddler - made one decision, one mistake, after being seduced by power greater than him. Sounds familiar doesn't it?

Of course there are a few key differences here:

Sorcerer is literally separated with his human self (soul perhaps??) that is trapped in Land of Shadows, while Chase's humanity seems to have been surpressed and/or muted by his Draconic Self. (or perhaps stolen with his soul by Hannibal, which is a popular theory about how exactly Roy Bean/Soup turned Chase.)

Chase's change is permanent. While Sorcerer situation is possible to fix - it literally happens in the finale.

BUT!!! no one actually knew it was possible to fix before. At least no one gave any indication that it was a known fact about Sorcerer's humanity still existing somewhere in Chaos Realm/Land of Shadows.

I'm pretty sure First/Norisu Clan believed that the Sorcerer was a human changed and twisted into an immortal by chaos. Impossible to kill and impossible to return to normal - that's why he was imprisoned. To keep him contained.

I mean, couldn't First Ninja, after capturing The Sorcerer, try to get his human self from the Land of Shadows himself, if he knew? After all he had access to a Chaos Ball! But he didn't know there was anything to be recovered, that the Sorcerer could be actually unmade just by reuniting him with his human half.

(At least thats my personal HC, but im pretty sure the canon show just retconned/fumbled a bit the whole Sorcerer resolution lol.)

SO just imagine. First learns about Chase's past. And he is freaking aghast. Here is another twisted by evil, but while he and his brothers failed to save those changed that they first encountered (the 'killed first stanked monsters' theory tie in!), they managed to save those that came after. And if First could, he would have tried to save The Sorcerer, no matter how much he hates him. But... Chase is different. There is still something of humanity left in him. Perhaps he can save Chase.

And from Chase's pov? He sees how Ninja saved Stanked people, and he doesn't even consider those situations as similar to his. Sure, people are turned into monsters, but he was turned into a monster by his own choice, there is nothing to save him from. (Isn't there?)

But he watches as First releases those people from the clutches of chaos, watches as he tries so hard to save them... And maybe it makes him yearn, that someone tried just a little bit harder to save the 'him' before he made that choice.

And if First cages Chase and says: "I want to help you. To Cure you." It will certainly enrage Chase - because who does this man think he is, tryin to contain and cure THE Heylin Prince of Darkness, like he is some halpless trapped commoner??? He came to be long before this man's Clan existed and he will be there long after this man will become dust.

But also... maybe deep deep deep inside, Chase is... confused? and pleased? - that someone like Fist Ninja grew to care enough for him to try and save him, even if there is nothing to be saved.

So they would be at this standstill, where First is trying to help a cause that isnt quite possible to fix, and Chase is... well, being Chase.

But, yeah, certainly another amazing thought process from you Anon <3, I've been trying to answer this ask for so long, because every time i start to write i get overcome with emotions about those scenarios like...damn. It's funny, but also the possible drama of all of this... hnnnfgggg

[a-dragons-journal]

Humanity and the Lack Thereof

This essay was co-written between Rani and Viridian; Viridian's text is in green and bracketed.

Humanity is an interesting thing.

I am otherkin. I am nonhuman, a dragon-in-human-skin, draconic to my core. I feel phantom wings and tail, the instinctive knowledge of how to breathe fire even though I don’t understand how it works, a bones-deep longing and homesickness for the sky, numerous instincts and urges tied to being something other than human. Many who are like me reject humanity entirely, don’t feel human at all. And yet, I am also human, deeply and truly. I am just as human as I am dragon - I like my human body, I love the things I can do with it (hands, dexterous hands, are a wonderful thing), I overall enjoy my human life. I am nonhuman, but I am not not human.

Viridian, who is watching “over my shoulder” as I write this, is a vampire. She is a fictive, from one of the Vampire: the Masquerade games that I play in, wherein vampires are typically considered to be… on the boundary line between “human” and “nonhuman.” Many vampires cling to their humanity and adamantly consider themselves human; I would go so far as to say this is the norm. Those who do not often become monstrous indeed, though often they do not.

[ I do not consider myself human. I am Kindred, vampire, Cainite. I am part of humanity, as a general populace - but I do not like being called human.

[ I think part of it is that being human is often put in direct opposition to being vampire as a personal identifier. Those who adamantly insist they are “still human” often mean as opposed to being a vampire instead. Being no longer human is, as Rani wrote, often considered a sign of becoming a monster instead.

[ But I worked hard for my Embrace, my being turned into a vampire. I worked to earn the right to call myself Kindred for nearly a decade. And yes, perhaps some of it is that I was taught by my original sire that the Embrace was an ascension above humanity, and that still colors my feelings on my own vampirism even if I acknowledge that he was wrong to consider us inherently above humans. But much of it is that being called human feels like a denial of my vampirism, a rejection of it, and for me that is not empowering - it is denying and rejecting something deeply important to me. Kindred is who I am. Human was only ever circumstantially true, a circumstance of birth - Kindred was something I actively sought out, pursued, chose. ]

Which is interesting, because to a certain extent, “human” is only circumstantially true for me, too. If I hadn’t been born human, I sincerely doubt I would identify as one in the same way that I identify as a dragon despite not being born into a dragon body. I could be wrong, of course - I have no way to prove it either way - but I suspect that if I am correct about reincarnation and I end up in another body after this one, I will not have the same “spillover” of humanity that I do of draconity from my dragon life.

And yet, I am human, and I actively dislike it when people try to strip that from me. Part of that, admittedly, is that the handful that try to see me as only dragon, and reject that I am human, are usually doing it because they’re violently misanthropic individuals, so it’s soured the whole thing for me because the reason they’re rejecting my humanity is so they can try to get me to shit-talk the rest of humanity with them. (If I have to hear one more dragon legitimately, whole-heartedly say that they think humanity should be extincted, I’m going to lose it.) But part of it is that my humanity is important to me, just as important as my draconity. I am both. I’ve written whole essays on this topic.

[ In that way, perhaps we’re not so different after all. I dislike being called human because it feels like a rejection of who I am, who I chose to be; you dislike being called not-human because it is a rejection of who you are. ]

Maybe so. Funny how different societal circumstances can yield opposite results from the same kind of pressures.

I think that part of the discrepancy between us is also that I’m a very physical person. Frankly, I am a chemical creature; I enjoy physicality, I enjoy affectionate touch, I enjoy the physical pleasures life has to offer. I enjoy food. I enjoy sexual pleasure. I enjoy the exhilaration of getting my heart going and my instincts fired up in a self-defense class. I live, I live, I live! is ever a cry of joy in my heart. And a lot of that ties into my animality! I am a dragon animal, yes, but I am also a human animal, and both of these things must be satisfied! The dragon yearns for the wind and the view when I climb up to a height, for the fire of battle I can get out of a sparring match; the human yearns for the taste of sun-warm berries right off the bush, for the warm press of bodies when I hug and cuddle with loved ones. Both of them love a good nap in the sun. I am a physical creature, I am an animal, and my animal-ness connects me to my body and thus to my humanity, rather than separating me from it.

[ Meanwhile, none of this has ever been true for me. Yes, of course I enjoy certain delicacies; I miss my brother’s cookies periodically, it’s true. But I’ve never loved these things the way Rani does. It’s not that I dislike the pleasures of life, but I’ve just… never really cared. It wasn’t much of a loss when I was Embraced, to trade food and sunlight and heartbeat for immortality and knowledge and power. It was almost convenient to not have to deal with the maintenance a living body requires - no excretion of waste, no inconvenient aches or pains or stomach cramps, a frankly much more manageable frequency of requiring sustenance. My body is just a tool, and the Embrace made it more efficient in most ways. And now, after twenty-three years of being dead, being in a living body again is overwhelming in some ways and just downright unpleasant in others. Even most of the physical matters Rani actively enjoys are either overwhelming or uninteresting for me. I am happy to leave the care and maintenance of the body to them. It’s not necessarily that I actively had a disconnect from my human body, originally, so much as that I didn’t have an active connection to it to make me identify with it, and thus my being “human” was, as I said, only ever circumstantial. My becoming Kindred overrode it, and I prefer to leave it that way.

[ Ironic, that the one whose nonhumanity is so human-shaped should be the one to reject humanity, but here we are. ]

Here we are.

[emerald-technologist]

Why Am I Nonhuman?

1,747 words; estimated 11-14 minute read

A preface to this essay: This essay was written stream-of-consciousness as a method to sort out my thoughts on the subject, and then edited into a form more accessible to the public. If it feels a little odd or wandering in places, that’s why. I didn’t want to remove the portions that are my sorting-through of my thoughts; it felt important to the final conclusion that they be part and parcel with it.

Othercon 2024 was host to a panel run by two dear friends of mine, Goratrix of the Draconic Wizard Workshop (@goratrix-betrayed on Tumblr) and Chaiya of the Treehouse System (@treehouse-headspace on Tumblr). The panel in question discussed the idea of nonhuman personhood, how nonhumanity and inhumanity can give us insights upon personhood, and whether personhood is something we should, or indeed can, reject. It also, being run by two vampire fictives, one of whom identifies himself as human and the other of whom does not, touched on the nature of humanity as opposed to the nature of personhood - which got me thinking about my own feelings on humanity, and why exactly I reject the label of human.

Some vocabulary for those unfamiliar with the World of Darkness setting, so that I don’t have to stop and explain words mid-essay multiple times:

Chantry: the building where (typically) all the vampires of Clan Tremere living in a certain city reside and work

Childe, plural childer: a vampire created through the Embrace — the childe is the progeny of their sire.

Clan: the group of vampires one belongs to by blood, which determines which powers come naturally to them and, to at least some extent, their culture

Embrace: the process of turning someone into a vampire by draining them of blood and then feeding them some of the sire’s blood (capitalized when written)

Ghoul: a mortal who drinks vampire blood on a regular basis, granting them immortality (as long as they continue drinking vitae regularly) and a modicum of vampiric power

Sire: the person who turns one into a vampire (the person a vampire turns is their childe)

Tremere: the clan of vampires I belong to, a highly unified and organized clan of blood sorcerers who rely on intra-clan solidarity and adaptability as defense against our enemies (we have a… rocky history with many other clans; it’s a long story)

Vitae: vampire blood, sometimes also called ‘the Blood’ with a capital B

With that aside:

Some background on my history and the circumstances under which I became a vampire (or Kindred; I will use the terms interchangeably) is required to really explain where I’m coming from on this. Back in source, I was Embraced into what I recognize now was essentially a cult, run by my original sire (I have since been adopted by another), a man who I recognize now was extremely manipulative and abusive to all of us, but perhaps especially his childer and his ghouls. This cult, this chantry, contained Kindred, ghouls, and mortals who had not yet been judged worthy to be let in on the secret of the supernatural. Generally, how it works is that one is invited to the meetings of an “occult group” as a mortal, which is of course run by the ghouls and Kindred without revealing who they are, and typically observed for a period ranging from several months to a couple of years. If they pass certain tests and the general judgements of the Kindred in charge of the occult group, then they are invited to commit themselves more and more over time, until eventually they are invited to take blood from the Kindred, and be fed from in turn, for the first time (not necessarily in that order). This is a show of trust, of proving yourself; being made a ghoul is a privilege to earn - the ghouls are elevated above their peers by the gift of the Blood, brought closer to vampirism. Many ghouls remain ghouls forever, but almost all hope to one day earn the Embrace - most who are Embraced go a decade or two before being chosen, and spend it proving themself worthy of more and more trust, more and more power granted. Of course, the Kindred must constantly prove themselves as well, must constantly compete for rank both official and social - but to be Kindred is to be inherently above the ghouls and mortals, inherently more than them. To be Embraced is not just to be immortal and powerful, but to have your very mind opened to understand the world better, more deeply, than a mortal or ghoul ever could, even an elder ghoul.

Perhaps, dear reader, you begin to understand why I now have to sit and question why, exactly, I have rejected humanity, and whether I am right to have done so and continue to do so. I’ve unpacked all this enough to realize that if my reason is because it feels degrading to be called human, because it feels lesser, then… that is probably not a good reason.

And yet, even as I reconcile with the fact that I am not, in fact, superior to the mortals and ghouls around me for being Kindred, calling myself human still feels wrong. I worked hard to earn the right to drop that name; to pick it up again feels like discounting that effort and that victory. Moreover, I just… don’t connect with it anymore. Vampire affects who I am, how I think, and how I act more than human ever did. Vampirism is important to me; humanity was always merely circumstantial.

But what does that even mean? What is humanity, really? It’s not merely the circumstance of being physically human, alive and breathing; after all, many vampires still consider themselves human. What makes one vampire human, and another not? What makes me no longer human?

In many cases, at least in my world, it comes down to morality - Kindred have codes of morality called Paths of Enlightenment, or sometimes Roads of Enlightenment, and those who have adopted one instead of continuing to follow the tenets of the Road of Humanity, which is essentially what most humans can be assumed to be “following” (avoid doing harm, avoid violating other people, generally hold compassion and kindness for others, etc.), are often considered the “inhuman” vampires. But I’ve never been drawn to another Road. Indeed, I still walk the Road of Humanity; I’ve never seen a reason to leave it. Community serves me well, and compassion, connection, and consideration for others all serve community. Community and compassion are not unique to humanity - just ask the werewolves of home, or for that matter the alterhuman community here - and especially as part of Clan Tremere, where community and solidarity are highly prized, I don’t feel that they have to make me human. I can walk the Road of Humanity without being human, just as one can walk the Road of Kings without being a king.

Perhaps it’s the fact that ‘human’ and ‘vampire’ are often treated as inherently contradictory labels - that many vampires who insist on calling themselves ‘human’ do so as a rejection of what they have become. And, indeed, they do feel as though they fit into the same ‘slot’ for me, and trying to wear both at once feels wrong in a way that’s hard to articulate. But I know that that’s not inherently true either. I know people who are both human and vampire - Chaiya, as mentioned above, is one of them. Being human doesn’t have to mean rejecting what you have become, or pretending to not be what you are.

Perhaps it’s simply that while vampirism isn’t superior to humanity in general, it has been infinitely better for me personally. The Embrace is one of the best things to ever happen to me; before it, I was next to nothing, with little real hope of making something of myself. Vampirism gave me power, immortality, the chance to be part of something greater than myself, the chance to make my mark on the world. I could never have been what I am now if I had remained mortal. Perhaps it’s also that I’ve been considering myself no longer human for so long that picking up the label again feels wrong. I pulled it off, grew without it, and now it no longer fits when I try to put it back on. Perhaps it’s the very discarding of the word human that made me become something that can no longer be called human accurately, even though from outside inspection I might be mistaken for one. Perhaps. Perhaps that doesn’t mean anything at all; there’s nothing material to that.

But my friends have pointed out, as we’ve been discussing this, that perhaps the mere fact of the choice, and of being happier for it, is enough. That even if there’s no hard line between the two, that doesn’t mean which one (or ones) one chooses to use isn’t personally meaningful. After all, to borrow the analogy one gave me, is there a hard, definitive difference between a man and a woman? If there isn’t, should someone who is happier being a woman feel that she can’t call herself that because she was born a man and there’s no definitive difference? I’ve lived around enough trans people to say no, of course not. That would be ridiculous.

Ultimately, I think that is what it comes down to. Humanity as a social and philosophical concept is such a broad, nebulous thing that it’s virtually impossible to define with hard edges, as philosophy is wont to do. But… vampirism is something I chose, something I wanted, something I worked for. Humanity was only ever a matter of circumstance. Vampirism has helped me, made me a better person, made my life a better life. My life as a human was never what I wanted; maybe it could have been eventually, maybe not, but I don’t think I ever could have been as happy or fulfilled as a human as I am now. Humanity was ultimately simply not right for me, and while once it fit correctly at least as a matter of circumstance, it no longer fits even in that capacity. The Kindred aren’t above humanity, I know that now, but we don’t need to be to be other than. Vampirism is not inherently better, but it is better for me. I chose to be a vampire, and I chose to discard humanity.

Perhaps, in the end, that’s enough.

[sinn-bee]

Hey! I’m absolutely in love with your dragon au, your art is amazing! Super excited for more!

I’m curious, because of how SQQ changes when going from SJ to SY, will everyone be totally aware that’s he’s a completely different person or is there gonna be a way he ‘gets away with it’? Like the Qi deviation excuse

Thank you so much!!! 🥹❤️

So! 👏 to answer your question-

Sj!Sqq had been going through a Qi deviation prior to SY transmigrating, and Qi deviations for the peak lords especially as full draconic cultivators are Very Very bad. It can completely mess up their connection to their dragon form and cultivation as a whole and as we know, SJ died from it which is why SY was able to take over. SY had to experience the last bits of Qi deviation as his soul being crammed into a new body forced Sqq’s core to change and thus in turn made his scales change color to match the new soul.

Of course, no one else knows this has happened, dragons scales turning a different color happens extremely rarely and only under very bad circumstances. So others do assume that his Qi deviation just changed his personality for the better. Some notice that his energy and personally is completely different and challenge him on it but realize it’s not worth the effort with how powerful Sqq still is (much to SY’s relief as he doesn’t fully understand how to change into a big scary dragon form yet and just intimidates via keeping a cool head.) There’s no system in this au so SY doesn’t have any Ooc lock, so his shift in personality is much more apparent even if he’s approaching everything cautiously.

So yes? He does get away with it? Everyone is aware he’s different but they can’t prove he’s *not* Sqq so they coddle their fellow peak lord who’s lost all his memories and hope the pleasant personality sticks.

[witchyfemking]

🌹🐉Queen/Mother Lilith master-post 🐍🦇

DISCLAIMER

There are many people saying that working with Queen Lilith is closed, id ask that you please go to the last link. A Jewish content creator goes into detail about why 1.) That's false and 2.) Why claiming this is actually antisemitic.

I understand that this deity may hold a negative context to different people/cultures(i.e. people of Jewish culture)/faiths etc. Please be respectful and mindful. Both the people and the divinity have the right to respect. Just because a divinity/entity has been the best thing in the world to you, doesn’t mean that’s the case for someone else(vice versa). Thank you for your consideration.

Mother Lilith is a divinity that I hold very dear. She has been a big help to me and has guided me in my journery of self love and reparenting myself.

Lore/mythology (briefly summarized)

Lilith originally was the first wife of Adam; made from the same primordial matter as her counterpart by the one who created her. She has left the garden in anger because she refused to lay under Adam; Lilith wanted to be seen as Adams equal but he refused. God sent angels to take Lilith back to Eden at Adam’s request. She was located near/in/at the Red Sea. Her children had been slain because of her refusal to return. ( I have heard conflicting info from different sources but I’ll recall what I think is to be more accurate at this point). Some of the fallen angels (a big figure being Lord Lucifer) had made themselves acquainted with her and they had gained each others’ trust. This is the point where Lilith had became a demon and was at least set on the path to becoming a highly ranked Infernal deity(if not at this point already). Lilith at some point after this whispered empowering thoughts into Eve during her dreams; leading her to eat the fruit.

Lilith also has an aspect tied to the Mesopotamian demon Lilitu.

Signs/Symbols of Queen Lilith(some i’ve personally experienced as well):

Snake imagery

Birds( robins, cardinals, blue jays, doves, owls or any corvid/black bird) I’d like to mention that she left me a robin who had passed, cause she knew I’d give it a proper burial.

Witnessing any of her other sacred animals (mentioned below) or frequently seeing imagery of them

Me and other devotees of hers have known her to send really animal that’s black as signs

rose imagery

sudden interest in her

sudden yearning desire to explore oneself/identity

speaking up/ standing up for yourself in circumstances in which you normally wouldn’t

for uterus owners; in my personal experience she had gotten terribly frustrated that i wasn’t noticing her so she started affecting my ‘moon cycle’. I experienced irregularities, increased pain and moodiness. I also got much more fatigued during my time of the month in the time she was trying to get my attention. She may or may not feel the need to do something of this fashion to get your attention; My only assumption that she did so in my case is because I was extremely oblivious. However I highly implore you discuss things with your doctor before concluding that this is the cause.

You may notice the wind howling louder

Vampiric/Succubus imagery/energy

Draconic and/or primordial energy

Energy of water or the ocean

Feeling of not necessarily one certain element (maybe all of them together)

feelings of a motherly energy

dreams/visions of red or dark haired woman( i’ve honestly had her appear to me as blonde). She may be a witch, possibly a queen. She could be protecting you during the experience ( if you’re on her good side ofc)

Sacred animals of Queen Lilith

Snakes

Dragons

Hyenas

Cats of various kinds ( domestic, wild, especially with black or dark coats)

Ostriches

Spiders

Unicorns

Owls

Goats

Bats

What does Queen Lilith specialize in? What can she help you with?

taking back your power

shadow work ( specifically the feminine side of the side)

tapping into/ welcoming your dark feminine energy

welcoming dark femme energy into your life

dark femme workings

defends women/femmes and children who’ve suffered abuse(especially s3xually)

Improving sexual relationships

asserting independence

support in women/womxn’s/femmes rights

fighting oppression/sexisim placed on women/fem identifying people by the patriarchy(or in general)

assistance in gaining respect and/or recognition for contributions

exploring/awakening sexuality (especially if you need assistance with you libido)

sex magic ( more specifically feminine dominance)

Assistance with menstrual magic/spells/rituals

Help in any women/female health issues ( menstrual issues, moods swings, feritility, MtF/FtM etc.)

( i recommend you be treated by a medical professional along with the last point; mundane before magical; magic/spirituality shouldn’t be used in place of medical treatment, simply as support.)

Correspondences/ Offerings

Herbs/Plants/Scents:

Belladonna (POISONOUS)

Nightshade (POISONOUS)

Mugwort ( still use with caution)

Sandalwood(Red + White)

Patchouli

Rose

Jasmine

Lotus

Dragon’s Blood

Cinnamon

Olibanum

Camphor

Myrrh

Jasmine

Frankincense

Amber

Saffron

Crystals:

Onyx

Fire opal

Diamond

Ruby

Obsidian

Topaz

Red Jasper

Red Carnelian

Black Moonstone

Black tourmaline

Jet

Garnet

Clear quartz

Food/Drink:

Chocolate ( Especially anything Dark and/or spicy )

Lime

Pumpkins/ Gourds(idk if gourds are edible tho, but to a deity it doesn’t matter lmao)

Red velvet sweets

Chocolate cake

In my personal experience, she loved these Sriracha Peanut Butter Chocolate Cupcakes I used to be able to get.

Spicy foods

Apples

Pomegranates/Pomegranate juice

Colors:

Black

Reds (Especially blood red or velvet tone)

Purple

Orange

Gold

Magenta

Dark pink

Silver

Dark Grey

Time/Days:

Wednesday

Friday

Witching hour (either Midnight or anytime 3-4 am)

Dark/New Moon phase

Beltane Sabbat/May Day ( sexual theme of the holiday)

Oct. 24 ( some sources claim this is the day Lilith left Eden)

Feb 29 (on leap year. Woman are known to break traditional norms during this time)

Miscellaneous:

Empress (Tarot)

High Priestess (Tarot)

Moon ( Tarot)

Strength (Tarot)

Any Queen Card ( More Specifically to my UPG, Swords and Wands suits)

Air and Fire are her main elements. However, she does not limit herself to one specific element, she has traits of all.

Vampiric/Succubus energy

Draconic/Primordial Energy

What is she like?

To me, Lilith is very much like a mother. Im sure you could probably guess by how I addressed her in the beginning of this post( which I call her Mother Lilith for personal reasons). She very much holds the energy of a firm mother who cares very much for her children. Lilith is very much stern when she feels the need, but knows when you need her to be gentle. Many times she has been a source of comfort and encouragement for me. If you show her the decency and respect she deserves, she will give it to you in return. If she sees you as her child (or holds you dear in anyway) she will go to distant lengths to protect you or to show your abusers not to mess with you again ( at times on her own accord). There are times where she made things difficult for people who wronged me on her own(probably a lot more I don’t know about). Mother Lilith is extremely supportive and will be there when needed, but she will not coddle you. She will not baby you. I see a lot of practitioners say “ she wont hold your hand” that’s true in a sense. Yes there are things you need to face alone, but a mother wont deny holding your hand if needed, she just wont do things for you. She will empower you to do things with independence. Lilith is definitely the kind of mentor to give you a rude wake up call when you’re not acting like yourself or doing things that wont benefit yourself or others. She is not afraid to be mean and wicked with you if need be.

Lilith’s energy generally feels airy and fiery. She carries herself regally and a sense of pride. Like i’ve mentioned, she doesn’t necessarily tie herself to one element, I’ve felt energy of all elements come from her, I assume this comes from her shapeshifting nature.

Sources and links

My own personal experience and UPG

Lilith Queen of the Night

Lilith and Witchcraft

Lilith: The Demonic Paradise Wiki

Lilith ( Occult world entry)

Tumblr users entry on Queen Lilith (i’ve honestly had a rocky history with the author of this post, I hadn’t realized who this was until after I recorded the information, but I still am going to give them credit where it’s due because it’s only right and their post gives solid information)

https://occult-world.com/lilith/