#and preying on people she sees as weaker than her

[vonlycsnn]

Hello, author! Can I request Wise/ Licaon with reader-Vidyadhara (from honkai start real)? Reader shows love in an unusual way. Their dragon tail wags happily when Wise /Lycaon is around. Reader protects them even if reader are weaker. They give out ancient jewels and can also purr softly. Dragons are hard to trust, but the reader lets them touch their tail. The reader's actions scream "I LOVE YOU. I AM DEVOTED TO YOU FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE."

If you don't like the idea, then feel free to skip it. Anyway, I wish you all the best~

❈ — A DRAGON'S WAY OF AFFECTION

~ WISE AND VON LYCAON WITH (GN) VIDYADHARA! READER.

SUMMARY: AU - You're a Vidyadhara from the Xianzhou Loufu, travelling across the galaxy and visiting numerous planets just for the fun of it. One planet in particular is your absolute favorite to visit: Eridu-47. | You narrowly escape Thanatos with Wise (in Eous' body). Lycaon is surprised to see you at midnight.

cw/tw: mentions of (minor) injuries on Wise's part, other than that it's all fluff.

A/N: Crossover prompt! How exciting!! We need more playable Vidyadhara characters on hsr...they're such an interesting species. :0 Very sorry for taking so long with your request, and very sorry for not putting some of the actions you've said. :') Thank you for your request and for the kind words! Hope you enjoy reading this.

Breathing. All you could hear was your intense breathing.

You didn't know how long you were running for, but that didn't matter. What matters is getting out of this hollow ASAP. The only problem being that you were being chased by a highly dangerous ethereal.

 

You recall the moment Wise warned you about the beast. A very fast ethereal capable of slashing its prey in seconds—putting your guard down even for a single second could lead to your demise.

 

The two of you were terrified, but compared to the small bangboo tightly locked in your arms, deep down—you were the most terrified.

Never have you dealt with this kind of situation before. Sure, Yaoshi's abominations are tough to deal with, but they were more annoying than anything.

 

This? This was out of your league. You've only fought Ethereals once or twice since you've been here, so you basically had little experience on how to fight them.

 

But as you were overthinking about the situation, you heard Wise talking from Eous' little body.

 

"There it is! It's the exit!" It's a small hand/arm pointed forward. 

 

You looked towards the direction it was pointing at; sure enough, the exit of the hollow was in front of you.

You picked up the pace, hoping that Thanatos would give up chasing you. Out of pure instinct, you threw the poor bangboo towards the exit before you could make it there yourself. Unbeknownst to you, Thanatos had created a scar on the back of your neck the second you got out of the hollow.

 

You trip and fall to the ground beneath you; your body slides against the pavement, creating some minor scratches on your body. But it was nothing you couldn't handle.

You tightly closed your eyes, now feeling the scar that the Ethereal created on the back of your neck.

 

You heard someone rushing towards you; soon after, you felt as if two people were looming over you.

 

"Belle, take them to the staff room. I'll recharge Eous in my room."

 

You heard a familiar voice, and you smiled gently when you realized who it was. You felt your tail wagging, sweeping dirt from the ground.

It was embarrassing to show this type of behavior in public, but you were too tired to care.

 

You sat up to see Belle in front of you, trying her best to help you. She took your arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, lifting you up to help you stand. But as you tried to listen to what she was saying, your vision became blurry, and then you passed out.

—

 

Your fingers played with your horns as you stared at the television in front of you. A blanket was moved aside to give you some space on the couch you were sitting on.

 

You've woken up 10 minutes prior, confused about what happened. Fortunately, Belle was here when you woke up and explained everything to you. She was always nice to talk to; she's optimistic and cheerful no matter the situation—its great.

 

But after a few minutes, she stood up from the couch and told you that she's going on a girls night out with Nicole and Anby. As she approached the door to leave the room, she looked at you and winked.

 

"Wise's making you some tea upstairs. Good luck with him, you hear?~" You heard her whisper.

 

And here you are now, sitting nervously as you overthink about Belle's words. Other than the bangboos inhabiting the store, it was only you and wise. You and wise. Your heart started to beat rapidly, and you looked to your side to see that your tail was wagging ever so slightly.

 

You tried to calm down, inhaling and exhaling slowly. Just as you were calming down though, you heard footsteps from upstairs...then they walked down the stairs.

 

Calm down, calm down. You can't let wise see you like this. It'll be embarr—

 

"Oh, hey, you're awake."

 

You jumped and snapped your head towards the door to see wisely at the doorway. He became concerned as he saw you breathing heavily, putting the two glass cups on the table behind the couch, and rushed to you.

 

"Sorry...did I scare you? Here. I made you tea."

 

He carefully picked up the cup and gave it to you. Still stunned by his presence, you shakingly accepted it. The cup felt warm; it wasn't too hot to the point where it could burn you. You smiled, and your tail wagged once more.

 

"It's nothing fancy. I don't know if the tea they serve on the Loufu is any different, but I hope you like it." Wise said.

 

You nodded, taking a sip of the tea he made. Your eyes closed as your taste buds danced with how good it was. Wise giggled at your reaction.

 

"I'm guessing that you enjoy it?"

 

"Mhm. It tastes slightly different than the ones from the Loufu...but still as delicious as any tea I've tried so far."

You held the cup up, inspecting it as if it were some piece of treasure. Wise laughed, but his attention was quickly stolen by your tail wagging constantly beside you. He smiled.

 

"Are you that happy to see me? Every time we meet in person, your tail always wags."

 

You paused your drinking, suddenly feeling embarrassed at your own behavior. You avert your gaze, trying to hide your red face from wise. He moved closer to you upon seeing your reaction.

 

"Hey, it's okay! I'm happy to see you as well; you shouldn't be risking your life in that hollow though..." He reminded you. You looked at him straight in the eyes, opening and closing your mouth as you struggled to get a word out.

 

"I-i just wanted to keep you safe...and Eous. Yeah." You awkwardly explained to him. Wise sighed, grabbing the blanket behind him and throwing it over your shoulders.

 

"Get some rest before you leave. You deserve it." Wise said. His voice was so comforting to you; it was soft and pleasant to your ears. You quietly purred.

"Oh right. Forgot to ask; did you bring back the videotape you rented a while back?" Wise asked. You froze in place.

You've completely forgotten that you rented a videotape from here a few weeks ago. And today was the deadline.

"I...may have forgotten it back in the Loufu. Haha."

You paced back and forth. Completely deep in your thoughts. You looked absolutely ridiculous in public, but people were too busy minding their own business to look at you weird.

 

In your hands was a box that looked like nothing from this world.

 

Of course it wasn't; it's a box containing the finest souvenirs from the Xianzhou Loufu. You held it close to your chest, preventing anyone from potentially stealing it. Or even worse, breaking the precious and fragile souvenirs inside. That would be a disaster. You'd have to pay a good amount of money to the seller you bought these from.

 

Sitting on the bench behind you, you quickly pulled out your phone. Looking at your contacts to find a specific person, he was the reason you came here in the first place.

 

A smile formed on your face when you saw his name; your scaled tail wagged simultaneously. But as you hovered your finger on the screen to click on his profile, you hesitated.

 

It was already late at night by the time you were here, so contacting him now wouldn't be ideal. You sighed, putting your phone back in your pocket, and stood up. Simply accepting that tomorrow morning would be a more appropriate time to give him the box.

 

You turned around to pick up the box, only to realize that it was gone. Your eyes widen at the sight, and your heart beats fast as you panic. You frantically looked around to see if anyone had taken it purposely or mistakenly.

 

That's when you heard it. From your pointy ears, you heard the echoes of rapid footsteps coming from your left. You snapped your head in the direction of the sound; sure enough, you saw a figure running towards the gross alleyways of lumina square.

 

"STOP. STOP IT. YOU THIEF."

 

You quickly chased him down as confused bystanders backed away in fear. The hooded man with your box created all sorts of obstacles to slow you down, from kicking down stacks of empty boxes to straight up pushing down a dumpster.

 

Unfortunately for him, this was nothing to you. Like any of the other Vidyadhara from the Loufu, you were athletic. Easily dodging the obstacles the man created.

 

He looked over his shoulder to see that you were almost caught up to him. He whimpered in fear, but just as he was about to pick up the pace to lose you, he tripped on something heavy and metallic. The impact nearly broke his foot in the process.

 

The box flung upwards, but thankfully someone effortlessly caught it with one hand. As you ran closer to the scene, you frozen. Tail wagging once more as you saw a tall, well-dressed wolf thiren standing in front of you. One of his prosthetic legs was stepping on the thief's back as a way to restrain him.

 

"Oh?" The man said. It was a familiar voice—the voice that makes you fall to your knees mentally every time you hear it.

 

"L-lycaon! I didn't expect you to be here at this hour." You expressed your shock to him.

 

"The same would apply to you. I wouldn't have expected to see you here in Eridu-47." 

 

As Lycaon said that, he felt the man below him wiggling himself to try and escape. The thiren's eye glowed as a warning, and the hooded man squealed in fear as he finally pleaded guilty for his actions.

 

"I-i-im sorry! It won't happen again! I promise! I swear! I-i—" 

 

The hooded man begged. Lycaon crouched and leaned towards the side of the man's face, whispering something directly to his ear.

 

You couldn't hear it, but you know Lycaon said something terrible when the man screamed in fear and quickly ran away the second Lycaon removed his leg from his back.

 

You were kind of scared, of course, but it was Lycaon. You trusted him dearly, and he has proved his sincerity many times before. So, you didn't question anything. Lycaon looked at you in relief, now holding the box full of goods with both of his hands.

 

"Apologies for my unbefitting behavior just now. I believe this belongs to you."

 

He handed you the box; he looked at you so softly that you couldn't help but stare at his face for a few seconds.

 

But you snapped out of your thoughts and declined. Lightly pushing the box back towards him. Of course, he was confused. Then you explained to him.

 

"It's for you, silly! No need to give it back to me." You giggled; you could see his one eye widen in surprise.

 

"My...you're too kind. I don't deserve such treatment from the likes of you." He said. You saw his ears twitching and his tail ever so slightly wagging from this; you smiled. Holding back a laugh.

 

He looked down at the box, now noticing that it's tightly sealed. Preventing anything from falling out.

 

"And what awaits me inside this box, may I ask?" He asked you.

 

One hand was gently placed on top of the box while the other held the bottom part so as not to let it fall to the break.

You walked closer to him, looking upwards to his face as you smiled widely.

 

"Inside are exclusive items from the Xianzhou Loufu. How about you open it and see for yourself? W-well, maybe not in this dirty alleyway at least." You awkwardly laughed. The thiren merely chuckled, gently taking your hand.

 

"Then I know just the place. If I may?" Your eyes widen when he offers you this; your horns glowed brightly as you felt your tail wagging. You smiled, nodding at his offer.

 

"Lead the way, dear attendant." You playful said. He laughed.

 

"Please. Just call me Lycaon."

 

Then the two of you walked out of the alleyway, admiring the nightly scenes of lumina square as Lycaon guided you to the rooftop of a building.

 

You smiled widely; tonight turned out better than you expected it to be. You couldn't wait to see his reaction to the items inside the box, and quite frankly, you were just very happy to be by his side.

Oh, what a happy little dragon you are right now.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Instinct

Synopsis: Astarion and Tiriel have a very busy night after a battle and have to deal with unexpected consequences.

Tags: smut, breeding, hurt/comfort, some emotional angst It's not exactly a breeding fic since neither Astarion nor Tiriel planned to have a child, but the shameless smut ended with unplanned pregnancy. And now they have to deal with what comes next. Bonus: you will learn why Astarion calls Alethaine 'princess'

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Tiriel won’t let them take her home from her.

She has never had one. Always a stranger, always a wanderer, but Daggerlake became her home. A place that welcomed both her and Astarion, thanking them for saving the townsfolk from a nasty fey pact.

Ever since then, Tiriel belongs – she has had a roof above her head and friends among the townsfolk. And even Astarion can relax because the town has a vast underground part where he is safe in the shadows without having to hide.

And those bandits decided they could take it away from Tiriel?

They should have thought better!

Tiriel steps over a dead body. The fight is over and so is her rage. She single-handedly finished off a dozen of these men and women who didn’t know who their enemy was. 

But her body wishes for more – more fight, more blood, more rage.

She looks around trying to see Astarion, but he is nowhere to be seen. It’s night and Astarion rushed to the surface part of the town letting the people of Daggerlake protect their homes and families while he, a full-fledged vampire, was going to show those bandits they had chosen the wrong town to attack.

Suddenly, someone grabs the fistful of her hair forcing her to gasp.

“Astarion?”

She looks at him and innate fear pierces her. They've been together for twenty years, but Tiriel hardly remembers him looking like this.

He looks like a vampire.

Like a vampire on a hunt.

His eyes glow red, and his clothes are soaked in blood. His skin feels feverish and his pupils are dilated. 

Tiriel knows it’s him but she also can’t suppress her fear. He is a predator, a hunter, a vampire. Should he be her enemy, she won’t be able to protect herself.

He pulls her closer and kisses her. Tiriel feels the blood of a dozen dead enemies on his lips. His strong hands squeeze her and she knows he will fuck her right here among the dead bodies in the streets of their hometown if she allows it.

Tiriel answers him with the same passion – he wants to be a dangerous vampire? Good to know – because she can be a wild warrior girl who takes what she desires.

But Astarion isn't in the mood for being dominated, and he drags Tiriel back to their home – anyone who would see them right now would think this an assault, not a prelude to lovemaking.

Astarion pushes Tiriel behind the gate. As he closes it, Tiriel gets a sudden idea.

If he wants to be a predator tonight, she should let him play till the end.

She drops her ax on the ground and rushes inside the house – there aren't many places to hide but she is going to let him chase her. And maybe fight a bit. 

“And where do you think you are going?” He growls. His voice sounds different and even scary. Nothing more intimidating than a blood-drunk vampire.

“Such a terrifying vampire needs to hunt his prey,” Tiriel laughs.

“Don’t tease me, wild girl!”

She rushes to their bedroom, but before she even manages to think about her next move Astarion jumps on her from the ceiling, pinning her to the floor.

And then he starts ripping her clothes off.

Tiriel roars and pushes Astarion with all her remaining strength. He pulls away but only for a moment before sinking his fangs in her neck. She gasps from the sudden pain but still tries to knock him down.

With every moment her movements become weaker and she finally stops resisting letting Astarion ravish her body.

He pulls away studying her face. 

“On your knees.”

Tiriel abides. Her shirt is ripped and shows off her breasts.

“Good girl,” he mutters, getting rid of his own clothes. His cock is painfully hard and Tiriel cannot think about anything but having it inside her.

He approaches her, tugs her by her shirt’s collar, and pushes her to the bed. He tears the rest of her clothes off and bites her again.

Tiriel’s world shrinks to these two things – pleasure and pain.

Astarion doesn’t waste any time and penetrates Tiriel, causing her to yelp.

His thrusts are rough and so are his touches. 

Tiriel, drunk with her own rage, keeps fighting back – she scratches his skin, tugs his hair, tries to push him as if he was assaulting her and every one of her movements makes Astarion wilder, rougher, scarier.

She manages to get away from under him, but he immediately presses her chest-down into the bed. Now, he fucks her from behind placing his blood-hot palm on her back.

Slap.

His palm leaves a red print on her butt and Tiriel gasps.

“Astarion-” Tiriel mewls as he leans to wrap his hands around her chest. He pierces her shoulder and keeps moving roughly.

He comes with a guttural groan and kisses Tiriel so intensely she is afraid to suffocate.

And instead of pulling away, he proceeds to fuck her again.

This time, he is very gentle and his eyes don’t glow anymore. 

“Astarion!” she gasps when he bites her breasts. 

“Delicious,” he mutters, licking the droplets of blood from her sensitive skin.

His second orgasm comes simultaneously with hers and she clenches around him forcing Astarion to stay inside her. 

Astarion sees it as permission for the third round. He sits up and places her hips on his lap. 

She squirms riding her orgasm and cries out something incoherent, but it seems like Astarion isn’t going to stop any time soon.

Tiriel has a weird feeling his heart is beating.

“Such a good girl,” he hisses. “And all mine.”

“All yours.”

Astarion moans in her ear and she feels his seed leaking down her sore thighs once again.

As it happens, Tiriel feels the world fading away, and the last thing she sees is Astarion’s red eyes.

**

When Tiriel wakes up, her body is sore and her skin feels disgusting. The mess between her legs has caked and the bite marks all over her body itch.

She gets up and gasps with a sudden pain – her body is covered in bruises, and she doesn't know which of them are from her enemies and which are from her lover.

Probably teasing Astarion was a bad idea.

She needs to bathe.

Tiriel puts her legs on the floor and notices her clothes folded up carefully. 

And repaired.

She smiles at the thought that all these hours of her sleep Astarion was right there sewing and watching her. He loves watching her sleep. When she asked him about this habit before, he confessed that he didn’t see a point in looking at anything else but her. 

Tiriel opens the door of the bathroom – Astarion sits in the hot water with a book he puts down the second she enters.

“Careful, darling, entering like that. I might want another round.”

“I can barely walk. Spare me, my lord.”

Astarion chuckles and tugs Tiriel into the bathtub.

“How much did I sleep?”

“Almost a day.”

Tiriel sits beside him and Astarion places his head on her chest.

“You know, everyone would think we should be less passionate two decades into our relationship.”

Astarion kisses her shoulder. “You are not getting any colder.”

“Oh no, you love me only for my body warmth! And what if some vampire turns me into an undead?”

Astarion doesn't answer immediately. A decade ago this joke would offend him so much he wouldn’t have talked to her for the whole day – but the nightmares and terrors of his past life have been left behind.

“Then we would lie in each other arms in front of a fireplace, forever young, forever beautiful”

She caresses his ears and he nuzzles her collarbone. 

Then Tiriel looks into the water.

“How much did you drink yesterday?”

“A lot.”

Tiriel sighs and straddles his lap, feeling his hardness between her legs. Astarion doesn’t hesitate – a second later, she is already rolling her hips as his cold cock gets warmer inside of her.

“You know… You feel much better… when you are like that,” she admits. “Cold, no heartbeat. That’s more to my liking.”

**

Tiriel feels awful. It seems like her own body is revolting against her.

“Go to see the healer,” Astarion asks. “Tiriel, honestly, if you don't go yourself, I will drag you there.”

“Tyrant.”

“And you behave like a child! Gods, sometimes I forget I am 200 years older than you!”

Tiriel looks at him and frowns. “You are not.”

“Tiriel, you are my sunshine and my love, but your lack of cognitive abilities is beyond me. How old were you when we met?”

“Thirty-six.”

“Good. By that time, I had been enslaved for 200 years and I was turned at 39. I am more than two centuries older than you.”

Tiriel wants to say something, but she vomits again.

“I'm just sick! Aaah!”

Astarion pulls her up and slings her on his shoulder as if she were his war bounty.

Despite all her efforts, she can’t free herself and accepts her fate. Thankfully, it's rather late and most of the townsfolk are asleep, though she notices a jealous look from a baker.

“Put me on the ground.”

“Let them see what real relationships look like. You know that the blacksmith’s daughters asked me where they can find vampires like me?”

“Hope you didn't send them to the Underdark?”

“I told them I am one of a kind,” Astarion slaps her butt. “But we need to remind these people who we are.”

Astarion stays outside as Tiriel enters the healer’s hut – its owner, a halfling woman, looks at her with annoyance.

“What happened, Tiriel?”

“I am fine!  My husband forced me to visit you.” Tiriel describes the symptoms. “I think I got food poisoning.”

“Food poisoning… Tell me, Tiriel, when was the last time you bled?”

Tiriel ponders. Her cycle has always been irregular –- a common thing among half-elfs. Humans are the most fertile race in Faerun, whilst elves are known to see their rare children as gifts from gods. So, Tiriel’s rare menstruations are unexpected obstacles, not something she should endure once a month. 

And besides, she sleeps with an elf AND a vampire. 

“I don’t remember. Maybe last winter.”

The healer hands her a tiny bundle of herbs. “Chew it. But don’t eat.”

The taste is so gross that Tiriel almost vomits again. She spews it on the floor - and the herb slowly changes its color to black.

“What’s the fuck is that?”

“Tastes like bile, doesn’t it? Oh, why do I have to go through all of this… I knew it couldn’t end well when we invited you two to stay here. You are pregnant.”

“I am… what?”

“You are pregnant, Tiriel.”

“With all due respect – my husband is a fucking vampire! I think his ability to fuck a child into anyone went to the grave along with his breathing, heart beating, and food preferences!”

“I am sure I’ve heard of half-vampires. Now go! I have more urgent patients to take care of. You know, it was a bad idea to use the innkeeper like a battering ram!”

Tiriel leaves the hut feeling as if she was just hit with something heavy.

“Tiriel?” Astarion looks worriedly. “What did she say?”

Tiriel is so scared she wants to cry. There is something inside her, something alive and growing – she can think of her husband as an elf all she wants, but right now she carries something half-dead inside her. Something unnatural. Something… that belongs to the shadows more than to the realm of mortals.

“My sweet, what is it?” Astarion demands. “What happened?”

And Tiriel confesses.

“Maybe… is it a mistake? She could have made a mistake! Gods! No, it can’t be…” He panics.

“Too much blood,” Tiriel says.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve drunk too much, remember? I could hear your heartbeat. You were almost alive…. And I…” Tiriel hesitates. “I have my period once a year. It probably was the day when I could conceive.”

Astarion shakes his head. He gets anxious. Scared. She knows this face too well.

“Astarion!” She tries to grab his hand, but the vampire is too fast. In a moment, he disappears in the tunnels. “Astarion!”

Tiriel stays alone in the streets. She sniffs and returns back home, so quiet and silent.

She can’t imagine Astarion leaving her, but she also can’t imagine herself pregnant. 

Maybe he is right, the healer could have been mistaken. She needs to wait. Yes, Tiriel needs to wait.

Astarion doesn’t return in the morning. He doesn’t return the next day. Tiriel feels terrible – she can barely eat or walk. The very thought of going after her husband feels exhausting – she just wants to lie in her bed without making any coherent movement.

She also constantly cries – Tiriel tries to justify it with the feeling of loneliness, but deep inside she knows the answer.

These are the mood swings a pregnant woman endures. 

**

Astarion has never felt so shitty and pathetic in the last twenty years.

He despises himself for his fear and doubts.

His nature demands him to run. To leave and never return. Whatever Tiriel has inside, he can’t deal with it. He can’t be a parent. He doesn't want to become one.

Two centuries of enslavement – only twenty years of freedom. And now what? Will he be stuck raising a child? Which might be born so deranged and ugly it will be barely a sentient being.

He can run. He can disappear and leave Tiriel. She is a beautiful brave woman, the moment the townsfolk realize Astarion is gone there will be a line of men and women courting her.

Even with a monster child.

He walks through Secomber, a sleepy town on the border between the Sword Coast and the High Wood. It took him two days to get here and now he tries to make up his mind.

And what if it’s not his? Tiriel is so loyal and loving, but what if she wanted someone warm, someone who didn’t drink her blood? She could have gotten drunk and picked a man for a one-night stand.

No, it’s not like her.

Astarion is just a pathetic coward who can’t bear responsibility. 

He has to come back. He can’t abandon the only person he ever truly loved and who never abandoned him even in his darkest hours.

But he is still afraid. He is paralyzed.

Suddenly he hears a loud cry.

He turns around and sees a human girl, maybe four or five (he still has issues with understanding human age, always assuming someone is younger than they are). She sits on the side of the road, her dress, a tiny copy of an adult one, is dirty, and her knee is bruised. The girl sobs as tears flow down her cheeks.

A weird feeling stirs in Astarion’s undead heart. A desire to console this child, to do something to stop her from crying. She is so vulnerable, so scared… and where the fuck are her parents, or whoever is responsible?!

The door to the tavern opens and a young man rushes to the girl.

“Daddy, I’ve fallen down… and…” She cries, wrapping her hands around his neck.

“That’s all, right, princess,” he answers, stroking her back. Suddenly the man turns around and notices Astarion. “Are you looking for something?”

“What? No, I just heard the cries.”

“Well, she cries so loud she can be heard in Daggerlake. If you need a room, there is another inn on the western side of the town. We are out of beds today.”

Astarion shakes his head. No. He is going back. The sunrise will meet him in the woods and he will hide in a cave. He will be back to Tiriel in two days, begging her to forgive him.

Because he can’t live without her. And he…he wants to experience what is coming next.

“Princess… An interesting pet name,” Astarion chuckles. The girl has already stopped crying and now she watches the vampire with curiosity.

“Yeah, we are far from nobles,” the innkeeper smiles. “But she is my only daughter and who are girls to their fathers if not princesses?” with these words he kisses the girl’s forehead and enters the inn, closing the door.

**

Astarion walks inside the house. Tiriel is fast asleep, he can hear her breathing. The kitchen is messy – it seems like his half-elf wife was hungry all these days but didn’t have any strength to clean the mess.

Astarion comes to the bedroom and lies beside her. Tiriel opens her eyes and touches his cheek with tender fingers.

“I knew you would be back.”

“I am sorry. I was scared.”

“I was, too. But I can’t run away from what is inside me.”

“I know, love. I will never do this again”

Tiriel places her cheek on his chest. “If the child is half-undead, can I ever carry it?”

“I don’t know.”

They lie in silence holding each other in their hands. 

“You know… I’ve been deprived of mortality,” Astarion says. “Everything normal was taken away from me. And yet I am here. Married. With my own house. Free to do anything I want. When I was in Secomber, I saw a man with his daughter. And you know, I just… wanted the same thing. To carry my own child in my arms. Because it’s a normal mortal thing and if so, I will be no different from that young innkeeper who calls his baby daughter ‘princess’.”

Tiriel caresses his cheek. “I need to go to that innkeeper and ask if he needs anything for returning my husband to me.”

“You need to see the girl. Such a lovely little creature,” he smiles. 

“Ours will be lovely too.”

Astarion elbows up. “Tiriel… we are going to keep it, aren’t we?”

Tiriel sighs. She did think about terminating, Astarion realizes. In those dark hours when he was hiding like a coward.

“I want to keep it,” Tiriel says. “Besides… I am still a half-elf. It’s not like miscarriages are rare among my race. Let’s see how it works out.”

Astarion smiles and finally relaxes enough to meditate. 

Druids hate the undead because, unlike nature, they can't change. He will prove them all wrong. His life is changing and he is too.

In the best and scariest way possible.

He puts his palm on Tiriel’s flat belly. Somehow, he is sure they are going to have a girl. -- Tag list

@tugoslovenka  

@herstxrgirl 

@herdarkestnightelegance  

@vixstarria 

@not-so-lost-after-all  

@marcynomercy  

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@wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

[ieatstarsforaliving]

Denial (1)

Summary: Hazel and (Y/N) are the tributes from District 12 for the 74th Hunger Games. Hazel doesn't want to see (Y/N) die. And (Y/N) just wants to live.

Pairing: Tribute!Hazel Callahan x Tribute!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), (Y/N) is kind of a bitch but aren't we all when facing death, I swear she gets better, mentions of death and suicide, lots of mentions of violence with pretty graphic descriptions but it’s just depressive hunger game shit

Word Count: 2614

Note: I KNOW I said I’d write part 3 of Spiderwoman!Hazel Callahan BUT I suddenly craved angst and had to write this. I had to. Just let me post this today and I’ll give you Spiderwoman soon– I SWEAR. Also this is lowkey bad cause I have not written angst in a while. Idk. It's not gut-wrenching enough. I'll make it work somehow.  - Bia <3

No.

Not you. 

Anyone but you.

Hazel knows what the Hunger Games look like. 

Violent. Callous. Sadistic. 

None of those words resemble you. 

Hazel watches as you walk towards the stage, each step weaker than the other. She thinks you’ll fall over, but you manage to stand beside the extravagantly dressed escort, who claps cheerily in your honor with a guiltless smile. As he chatters about his appreciation for the games, you are expressionless. Your fists are clenched, your eyes fixed on the crowd, blankly staring at the faces of the people who know you. 

Hazel has never seen you so scared. 

“Well, then, shake hands!” The escort chirps, pushing Hazel towards you. 

There’s a pause before Hazel takes your hand, giving it a tight squeeze.  

Please, please look at me, she thinks. It’s going to be okay– 

-But when you do look at her, it's automatic. Empty. Involuntary, as if meaningless to share eyes with a future corpse. Hazel recognizes the shift of the dynamic between the two of you. She is no longer your neighbor, your classmate— no longer the girl you once kissed in the grounds of the forest.

-She is your rival. 

Her eyes flick away from you. It feels like you can read what’s in her head, both the shock and the anguish. Hazel is not ready to deal with either. 

So she drops your hand and looks away, staring at the camera zooming in on her face. 

But in the second of eye contact, Hazel does notice this; 

Grief has already struck your eyes. 

The train ride is silent. The District 12’s assigned escort, who introduces himself as Meyers, continuously attempts to make conversation with either one of you, talking about what a privilege it is to be traveling to the Capitol. 

You choose to be speechless, sitting on the plump green velvet chair with your legs pulled close to your chest. Hazel sits opposite to you, persistently peering while contemplating on how to start up a conversation— or maybe, not to start one at all.

You’ve been subtly ignoring her gaze, trying not to look deliberate in your avoidance. Staring at the passing trees out the window, you’re forced to picture the forest back at home— A hug of browns, shelter of extended limbs, sunlight filtered through the overlapping leaves above.  

Along with the images of forest, you’re forced to remember. 

It was a particularly cold morning when Hazel first found you in the heart of the woods, the chilling air hanging heavy with the scent of pine and coal. In your hands was a bleeding bird, fragile body betrayed by your well-aimed rock. 

It turned out to be a mockingjay, and as the crimson stain spread across its black and white feathers, the satisfaction of your hunt waned. Your hunger persisted, but found yourself frozen. The irony of the prey was a slap in your face. A mockingjay– Why did it have to be a mockingjay? The failed muttation, the insult to the dystopia— the only thing in the world that seemed to be resisting the Capitol— and here you were, unwittingly taking its life. 

Hazel approached you, and you flinched– but you didn’t run. You couldn’t, not when her eyes had such softness within them, as if forgiving your savage hand in place of the bird. Without uttering a word, she knelt beside you on the forest floor. 

Her fingers dug through the dirt, prodding into her nails until a hole was made. Her hands were soiled but warm as she took the mockingjay from your hands, placing it in the makeshift resting place amidst the roots of a towering tree. You watched as she covered the bird with earth. She then took your hand and guided you back to the fence, back to the meadow, to the bakery, where she bought a small piece of bread in exchange for the shabby jewelry off her neck. You learned later the necklace was a gift from her absent father. 

That was the Hazel you became used to. She was strong. Stronger than anyone you ever grew to know– as if to acknowledge that she could one day be standing in the arena. Yet you found her kindness to be her weakness. She never harmed anyone. Anything. She was a refuge from the harsh reality of the televised Hunger Games. And you kept coming back to her, mistaking the comfort for a shield against the brutality of the world. As if being close with her could protect you from any fucking thing. Perhaps that had prompted you to kiss her on that day, the day before the reaping, and all you could think about was how she didn’t push you away.

You snap out of your memories, the weight of the past and the jarring truth of the present boring down on you. You can’t handle either of those. You can’t handle looking at her. You can’t handle being in the same room as her. But the intensity of her gaze has burned into the side of your head, and you feel demanded to meet her eyes once more. 

When you finally look at Hazel, her eyes widen. 

She starts to open her mouth, on a pathway to a ramble, but the compartment door swings open, revealing a rough man with scruffy braids holding an explicit magazine. 

Hazel recognizes him– the only winner left alive from the Hunger Games from District 12. He’s notably muscular, with tattoos that circulate his stocky arms along with a rugged beard to match his image. 

He is Hunger Games winner material, Hazel thinks, and feels considerably feeble in comparison. 

The man looks around the room.   

“Man, I got stuck with two girls this time?” 

Hazel starts, “G–” 

“-Mr. G to you. I may look like this, but I’m still your mentor.” 

You stare at the man as he disappointingly analyzes his two mentees. He decides you’re not promising enough, not giving more than two seconds to consider you two before plopping on the green velvet seat and flipping through his magazine featuring a barely-clothed capitol woman. 

“You’re supposed to give us advice,” Hazel mutters. 

He scoffs in response, “I’ll give you advice; don’t die too quickly.” 

“So you think we have a chance?” 

“Hell no,” Mr. G laughs. “Look at you two.” 

You and Hazel stare at him. He notices the angry silence. 

“Alright. I’ll help y’all.” He shrugs, not looking up from the magazine. “When you arrive, you’re going to be grabbed by the most annoying sons-of-bitches who're gonna get y’all cleaned up and pretty to parade around the Capitol. It’s gonna suck. But you deal with it. No complaining. No resisting. You deal with it. Then you get in the arena, let them throw you around for a bit, and then find something visibly mild to kill yourselves with.” 

Hazel stiffens at the line. 

“What is wrong with you?” You shout, your voice laced with anger. “My life is on the line.” 

Mr. G glances at you with a raised eyebrow, indifferent. “Welcome to the Hunger Games, darlin’. You think having a different mindset is gonna keep you alive?”

“You’re supposed to be our mentor,” Hazel says, her voice trembling. “You’re supposed to help us survive.” 

“Survive? You kids from District 12 don’t survive. You endure. You endure and you die. There’s a difference.” He emphasizes on the words ‘die’ and Hazel wants to throw up. “It’s just like the year before this and the year before that.”

“So you’re just giving up?” You push yourself to your feet and step towards him. There’s resentment in your words, clawing at the lifeline that is supposed to be your mentor. “You’re pathetic.”

Mr. G gets up from his seat, looming over your frame. Unwavering, you glare at him. He lets out a chuckle, a brief moment of consideration flickering across his features. Then he pulls back his fist. 

In an instant, Hazel rushes in front of you, her body bracing for impact. His fist swings towards you, but it doesn’t land on your face. Instead, it meets Hazel’s, sending her backwards to the floor. The collision makes Mr. G stumble back a step, surprise evident in his eyes.

Hazel groans, rubbing her cheekbone but gets up again, standing in front of you with a defensive stance.

“Ah, I understand now.” Mr. G gawks at Hazel, amused. “The fighter and her protector.” 

Then he starts laughing, slowly staggering away from the two of you, walking out of the compartment with his dirty magazine still in his hand. Meyers quickly trails behind him, muttering something about tributes being barbarians and forcefully shuts the door with a resounding bang. 

Hazel turns to you, hoping her face isn't red. “Are you okay?” 

“Don’t.” 

Hazel blinks, taken aback. You’ve pulled away from her, creating a perceptible distance, your face flushed in an unknown emotion. 

“I–”

“-Don’t do that.” 

Hazel recognizes the barrier you’re attempting to draw between the two of you. She refuses to accept it and steps closer. 

“Don’t,” you insist. “Don’t come closer. Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. We’re nothing.” 

“We’re friends,” Hazel protests.

“No,” you correct her, your voice cracking. “We stopped being friends when we were picked to kill each other. If we hadn’t—” 

If we hadn’t kissed, killing you would be easier. 

You stop. 

Hazel shakes her head, her expression in disbelief. “You’re the one who kissed me.”

She steps closer. You retreat. 

“Hazel, stop, please–”

She watches as your body begins to shake. A whimper escapes your lips, which is quickly covered by your hand. Then you’re sobbing uncontrollably, covering your reddened face as a means to hide yourself, but the tears manage to escape from the gaps between your fingers, soaking the condemned dress that you only wear on reaping days. 

“I- I don’t–” 

Hazel steps closer. “I know.” 

“I don’t want to die,” You croak. “I want don't want to die. I don’t want to kill. I don’t–” 

-I don’t want to kill you. 

The unsaid words ring around the room as Hazel pulls you into her arms. You don’t hesitate to hide your face into her neck, crying earnestly, body burning and painful, teeth clenched as the tears drip off your jaw and you refuse to let your lip quiver like a child. Hazel holds you tighter and presses her hand against the back of your head.

Hazel wants to say something. She opens her mouth.

Then she starts to cry.

As much as she hates Mr. G, he is right about the clean-up process before officially entering the capitol; it sucks. 

After arrival, the two of you were separated to different rooms with different stylists. Hazel’s stylist has been going about Hazel for two hours, scrubbing down her body with soaps of intense fragrance, trimming the nails into a smooth oval shape, rubbing makeup over her fresh bruise, painting on her eyelids, and primarily, getting rid of her body hair. She lays on the cold metal bed, barely clothed, as the hairs on her arms, underarms, eyebrows, nose– even places that shouldn’t matter being robbed of its hair. Hazel ignores the soreness of fabric being stripped from her leg, tearing out the hairs beneath it. 

Instead, Hazel thinks about killing. 

She thinks about the physicality of it. The impact of the blow, the act of stabbing, the struggle of choking someone. She assumes there would be weapons in the arena, there always is. But even back at home, she’s never crossed the line of killing even the smallest of creatures, not even when she was desperately hungry. But laying on the cold metal bed of the stylist’s office, she almost regrets the lack of practice. The visceral brutality, the raw and primal surge that accompanies violence— she’s unsure of it all. 

Then she thinks about you. 

She pictures a hand wrapped around your neck, slitting the flesh, warm liquid seeping through the fingernails— and the victim writhing, clawing, screaming— then finally falling limp. 

Hazel pales at the image. At the same time, she feels a particular jerk at her leg once again, and the stylist squeals the words, “Perfection! You’re beautiful!” 

She is ushered to sit up as the stylist grabs a cart filled with combs, bottles, and other products that Hazel doesn’t recognize. A mirror is passed, and Hazel blinks harshly at her reflection. She can see that she looks so… Capitol. Everything about her is enhanced; from hermetically coiffed eyebrows to her skin, perfectly shaped and painted, devoid of blemishes. The bruise from her mentor is gone, too. There's light bits of glitter on above her eyes, amplifying her blue eyes while giving her a much softened look. 

She looks like a tribute. 

“I really do wish you hadn’t cut your hair like this,” the stylist whines as she ruffles Hazel’s messy head with a sigh. A hairstyle she fearlessly trimmed with a pocket knife, now being sprayed by a sour, citrus themed liquid. “You are such a pretty girl. Perhaps we should glue a wig to your head.” 

“Don’t.” 

Hazel turns towards the voice. 

It’s you. You’re peering through the doorway, your entire form stripped and peeled away just as she is. Hazel does a visible double-take when she sees you, swallowing hard while staring at your half-naked body. She gazes at you, taking in the transformation that the Capitol has imposed on your appearance. 

If she thought you were beautiful before, she thinks you’re breathtaking now. 

“I like her hair,” You murmur, walking towards the bed. Hazel instinctively reaches up to touch her trimmed mullet, as if to confirm that it’s still there. 

“I suppose I can work with a tomboy image. Oh, I see a vision! I’ll be back,” The stylist sings to herself, running out of the room with a sudden enthusiasm.  

Hazel is still staring at you.

You shrug. “How do I look?” 

Like a lamb to slaughter.

“You… look different,” She says. “I don’t mean it’s bad. It’s good. But it’s also…” 

“I know,” you sigh, sitting beside Hazel’s bed. “A true depiction of Capitol beauty.”

“It could be worse,” Hazel starts. “We could be naked and covered in soot for the opening ceremony.” 

You laugh, knowing that the only thing District 12 is known for are coals. And there’s not many costumes you can be inspired by coals. Hazel smiles at your laughter, feeling instantly better. It’s a sound she hasn’t heard since the forest, as if a piece of home has been brought back to life. Although the room is cold and metallic, there’s warmth in between the two of you. 

Her gaze lingers on your transformed appearance. With the grime and dirt from the District rubbed off, you seem so fragile, so innocent, so out of place in the cruelty of the Capitol. None of you belong in that arena. And all of a sudden anger rises in Hazel. She wants the Capitol to burn. She wants the Capitol to burn for what it does to innocent lives like yours. 

Your laughter eases and you’re left staring back at Hazel. The forest and the Capitol are vastly different places. Even the silence is different. Back there, it was a pleasure to be silent. Here, silence is almost sickening. Still, your warmth persists.

“I’m serious about winning," You say.  

Hazel holds your gaze. 

“I know.” 

She offers her hand. You take it. And for a long time, neither of you speak. You just breathe and cling to each other, lost in a moment that's become heavier with your words.

There is a brief pause before the full effect of everything comes barreling towards Hazel. She ignores it.

Instead, Hazel thinks about dying.

Next Chapter: Anger

(Guys I don't know how a taglist works so just comment "Tag me next chapter or" "tag me in all upcoming chapters" on THIS POST if you want to be tagged ok???)

@vster0769 @milktea-academia <333

[paynomindtotheinsanity]

How did you come up with the au?

Like how did you decide to make dib a vampire?

And can explain more about what happen to dib after drinking zims blood?

*cracks knuckles* sorry, this is gonna be a long response lol

I like vampire AUs, and I hadn't come across one yet that went down a more body horror/disturbing route. I wanted to give the trope a little twist by making his vampirism slightly more cannibalistic and gross, and having it be an alien parasite rather than the typical vampire myth. Plus I wanted to try my hand at writing horror, because I'm working on an original book that will also be sci-fi horror, and I thought this would be a great way to see how people liked certain ideas that will appear in the book. Kind of like a test run.

In this AU, the venom from the initial bite that infected Dib was a serum from the parasite. It prepared his body to withstand the actual mutation (when the worm was attempting to crawl inside and attach to his body), which is why he started gaining certain abilities while also being unstable. Because the parasite was akin to fungi, Dib became sensitive to sunlight and funny stuff like garlic, which is an antifungal.

Dib has no memory of the night he was bitten, but he had been attacked in the basement while trying to help a woman who was injured. (This is the reason the woman who grabs him in the tunnel screams when she sees his face - it's the same woman he was trying to help. She recognized him and saw/sensed he was becoming one of the creatures that had kidnapped and fed from her. He obviously did not recognize her, since his memory was gone.)

The night he was bitten, he managed to escape and get home, and because the vampire was weak at this point in the cycle, she could not follow him. They used the tunnel that connected the mines to the asylum in order to prey on drug addicts and drag victims back to the cavern, but they could not go farther than that, and they are much weaker when they stray from their home.

When Zim accompanies Dib to the asylum the next night, Zim sees the vampire woman in the basement - she had come back to wait for Dib so they could finish the transformation, but obviously, none of that happened because Dib and Zim had that massive fight, and Zim took him home.

Anyway!

When Dib drank Zim's blood for the first time, the serum that had primed Dib's body ended up mutating to match Zim's Irken DNA. This is why the vampire was pissed to find out Zim's blood was already inside of Dib, because Dib was in a vulnerable stage of his transformation, and Zim's alien DNA basically took the spot of the alien parasite.

This is also why Dib's body rejected the worm - his DNA had already mutated, and he was now incompatible with the original parasite.

The human blood no longer benefits Dib in the same way it once did. Like, it'll keep him alive because his DNA is still mostly human, but he won't gain much else from it, like his previous regenerative abilities (when Zim stabbed him in chapter 20, Dib's body was healing way too slow because of this change).

Dib is now "attached" to Zim - Zim took the place of the creepy vampire aliens. He can control Dib, just like the first vampire was slightly able to do in the cavern (although she was less effective, given that Dib was already mutating with Zim's DNA). Dib can read Zim's mind and sense his feelings, but Zim can control his physical form, so they are now bound in their own parasitic relationship. Yay for genetic fuckery!

[hiddentrails7]

I gave the BG3 origin characters Pokémon teams and put way too much thought into it, so I thought I'd share my nerdish thoughts. Maybe I'll do non-origin characters at some point, but eh, we'll see.

Oh, and there's some spoilers for the character stories, so read at your own risk.

(Teams under the cut!)

Lae'zel

(I couldn't not use this gif, sorry girlie)

Kommo-o

"When it spots enemies, it threatens them by jingling the scales on its tail. Weak opponents will crack and flee in panic." (Pokémon Sun)

An intimidating, armored warrior, just like Lae! Its shiny also reminds me of her, haha.

Zangoose

"It has feuded with SEVIPER for many generations. Its sharp claws are its biggest weapons." (Pokémon Diamond & Pokémon Pearl)

Just like the Githyanki's fued with Mindflayers, it has a big issue with Seviper's mere existence. They also give the same attitude vibes.

Scizor

"SCIZOR has a body with the hardness of steel. It is not easily fazed by ordinary sorts of attacks. This POKéMON flaps its wings to regulate its body temperature." (Pokémon Ruby & Pokémon Sapphire)

They're both well-armored! It is,, also just her vibe.

Bisharp

This pitiless Pokémon commands a group of Pawniard to hound prey into immobility. It then moves in to finish the prey off." (Pokémon Black 2 & Pokémon White 2)

A hardened warrior, like the rest of the team. It not only plays into the fact that she likes to take charge, but I don't think she'd ever evolve it into Kingambit due to her whole awakening with Vlaakith and learning about the prince in the prism, lmao. She's content with Bisharp.

Falinks

"The six of them work together as one Pokémon. Teamwork is also their battle strategy, and they constantly change their formation as they fight." (Pokémon Shield)

The ultimate unit. She doesn't care if they're little guys, they're forces of nature! Not to be trifled with!

Charizard

"CHARIZARD flies around the sky in search of powerful opponents. It breathes fire of such great heat that it melts anything. However, it never turns its fiery breath on any opponent weaker than itself." (Pokémon Ruby & Pokémon Sapphire)

Even if she doesn't agree to become Vlaakith's chosen, she seems like the type to get a dragon herself just to spite Vlaakith.

☆

Shadowheart

(Oh my beloved Shart)

Umbreon

"When exposed to the moon's aura, the rings on its body glow faintly and it gains a mysterious power." (Pokémon Platinum)

It is so she coded. She worships the moon/darkness, no matter what path you go down with her, so Umbreon is perfect!

Absol

"Although it’s said to bring disaster, in actuality, this Pokémon possesses a calm disposition and warns people of any crises that loom." (Pokémon Moon)

Another dark, kind-of moon-esk vibe Pokémon. They also have similar haircuts!

Trevenant

"Trevenant is very kind to Pokémon living in the forest. It doesn't even care if these Pokémon take up residence in the greenery on its head." (Pokémon Violet)

A Pokémon I just think she'd like. I like to think it'd try to protect her from wolves in the forest, but when she came into contact with Sharr for the first time it was only a Phantump.

Hatterene

"This Pokémon can read the emotions of creatures over 30 miles away. The minute it senses hostility, it goes on the attack." (Pokémon Sword, G-Max form)

I think it's a really funny image. Shadowheart wouldn't mind watching with a wine glass in-hand as her Hatterene beats the shit out of someone that won't leave her alone. Its interaction potiental with Astarion is peak.

Mawile

"It chomps with its gaping mouth. Its huge jaws are actually steel horns that have been transformed." (Pokémon HeartGold & Pokémon SoulSilver)

Has her vibes. Good for both versions of her. Has her ponytail (kind of). Makes sense to me!

Zoroark

"Each has the ability to fool a large group of people simultaneously. They protect their lair with illusory scenery." (Pokémon White)

While kind of leaning toward Sharr, it works for Selune as well! Shadowheart is also naturally a Trickster Domain Cleric, so a Pokémon known for tricks is great!

☆

Astarion

(My personal favorite character. I love him. He's soggy.)

Hisuian Zoroark

"With its disheveled white fur, it looks like an embodiment of death. Heedless of its own safety, Zoroark attacks its nemeses with a bitter energy so intense, it lacerates Zoroark’s own body." (Pokémon Legends Arceus)

Its a very Astarion Pokémon. It not only has wonderful hair, just like him, the entry above sounds a bit too similar to the start of the Cazador fight... heh.

Gliscor

"It dances silently through the sky. When it approaches prey, it can land a critical hit in an instant." (Pokémon Black 2 & Pokémon White 2)

Of course, it's vampire coded, and it also just has Astarion's smug, rogueish vibes.

Thievul

"It secretly marks potential targets with a scent. By following the scent, it stalks its targets and steals from them when they least expect it." (Pokémon Sword)

Astarion is a fancy man! Former magistrate! Thievul fits the high-class vibe and, of course, the thief aesthetic.

Froslass

"A Pokémon inhabited by the soul of a woman who died bearing a grudge in the snowy mountains. Legends of Froslass placing deathly curses on misbehaving men send shivers down my spine." (Pokémon Legends Arceus)

I think it'd be funny, if this Pokémon saw Astarion and related. Like. It feels empathy for this poor mf and just kinda sticks around. It REALLY wants to kill Cazador, but doesn't for Astarion's sake. It's cute.

Crobat

"The transformation of its legs into wings made it better at flying, but more clumsy at walking." (Pokémon Platinum)

Ugh the thought of Astarion befriending a Zubat in Cazador's palace and getting it to evolve via friendship is so nice. Also another vampire-esk mon.

Liepard

"Their beautiful form comes from the muscles they have developed. They run silently in the night." (Pokémon Black 2 & Pokèmon White 2)

It's him. As a purple and yellow cat. What do you want me to say.

☆

Gale

(My favorite boot-eater)

Alakazam

"While it has strong psychic abilities and high intelligence, an ALAKAZAM's muscles are very weak. It uses psychic power to move its body." (Pokémon Emerald)

Okay, Mr. 45 Defense 135 Special Attack. The og wizard Pokémon. Of course Gale has one.

Meowscarada

"This Pokémon uses the reflective fur lining its cape to camouflage the stem of its flower, creating the illusion that the flower is floating." (Pokémon Scarlet)

While, yes, it's a Magician, not a Wizard, I still think it works. Gale has a sassier side, which I thoroughly enjoy, and it reminds me of Tara in a weird way.

Delphox

"Using psychic power, it generates a fiery vortex of 5,400 degrees Fahrenheit, incinerating foes swept into this whirl of flame." (Pokémon Y)

Literally a wizard. Gale would love a little Fennakin.

...also, uh, Fireball.

Ditto

"With its astonishing capacity for metamorphosis, it can get along with anything. It does not get along well with its fellow Ditto." (Pokémon Moon)

Gale loves his duplicates: no need for spell slots if you have a Ditto!

...unless he needs Ditto to speak, of course, but Ditto can probably write instead!

Meowstic (Male)

"When in danger, it raises its ears and releases enough psychic power to grind a 10-ton truck into dust."

Another lovely Psychic type! It's also cat-shaped so that's a bonus for Gale. Simply a little guy.

Chandelure

"This Pokémon haunts dilapidated mansions. It sways its arms to hypnotize opponents with the ominous dancing of its flames." (Pokémon Sword)

I wanted a magic item reference, and I think he'd think it's cool! There's quite a few myths surrounding it.

☆

Wyll

(My first romance. He has a special lil place in my heart.)

Gallade

"A master of courtesy and swordsmanship, it fights using extending swords on its elbows." (Pokémon Diamond & Pokémon Pearl)

THE BLADE OF FRONTIERS—

Aegislash

"Apparently, it can detect innate qualities of leadership. According to legend, whoever it recognizes is destined to become king." (Pokémon Y)

THE BLADE OF FRONTIERS PART 2—

Oh, and I also think he got his from his father.

Corviknight

"This Pokémon reigns supreme in the skies of the Galar region. The black luster of its steel body could drive terror into the heart of any foe." (Pokémon Sword)

Haha. Ravengard. Get it.

It's also another knight aesthetic. Yippee.

Sirfetch'd

"Only Farfetch'd that have survived many battles can attain this evolution. When this Pokémon's leek withers, it will retire from combat." (Pokémon Sword)

Oh, another knight! What do you know.

...Blade of Frontiers part 3.

Lucario

"Not only does it perceive auras, but it has also gained the power to control them. It employs them in battle." (Pokémon Sun)

It's very him coded. I also really like the jokes where people compare him to a puppy. Lucario is a bipedal puppy.

The thought of a younger Wyll with a Riolu also brings me joy.

Ceruledge

"The fiery blades on its arms burn fiercely with the lingering resentment of a sword wielder who fell before accomplishing their goal." (Pokémon Scarlet)

Ah, finally. The Warlock pact Pokémon. It really fits him after getting his pact, imo. I like to think Mizora didn't give him a chance to evolve it into Armarouge instead, which upset Wyll at first, but he gets attached to Ceruledge. It's still his, after all.

☆

Karlach

(My favorite female character! She brings me such joy)

Emboar

"It can throw a fire punch by setting its fists on fire with its fiery chin. It cares deeply about its friends." (Pokémon Black)

She'd love this fucker, especially as a Tepig! They're both bulky as shit and deserve the world.

Haxorus

"While usually kindhearted, it can be terrifying if angered. Tusks that can slice through steel beams are how Haxorus deals with its adversaries." (Pokémon Shield)

Haha big axe. Haxorus is just very Barbarian coded.

...Also Karlach with an Axew <3.

Tinkaton

"The hammer tops 220 pounds, yet it gets swung around easily by Tinkaton as it steals whatever it pleases and carries its plunder back home." (Pokémon Violet)

Another big-weapon Pokémon, but I think she'd also just think it's silly.

Imagine Wyll meeting her with this little menace, since he has a Corviknight.

(Yes, I might've done that on purpose)

Arcanine

"Arcanine is known for its high speed. It is said to be capable of running over 6,200 miles in a single day and night. The fire that blazes wildly within this Pokémon's body is its source of power." (Pokémon Omega Ruby & Pokémon Alpha Sapphire)

Loyal fire puppy. Essentially Karlach.

Bewear

"This Pokémon has the habit of hugging its companions. Many Trainers have left this world after their spines were squashed by its hug." (Pokémon Moon)

THEY CAN TAKE EACHOTHER'S BACKBREAKING HUGS. THEY DESERVE EACHOTHER.

I also just really had a fun time running Bear-Rage Barbarian Karlach.

Darmanitan

"Its internal fire burns at 2,500° F, making enough power that it can destroy a dump truck with one punch." (Pokémon Black)

A very Karlach mon, in my opinion. She appreciates how angry it can be. She is also quite angry.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

Adding to the “Velvette is the glue of the Vees” convo (and possible slightly out of character interpretation)

I feel like Vox and Valentino definitely need somebody to confide in other than a fuck-buddy y’know?

Like just a (somewhat) stable friend or business partner no sex involved

…Who they’ll sometimes cuddle on the couch with and bitch about their day to each other

I hc Velvette in all her independent girlboss glory can grow clingy towards those she’s attached herself to - that being Vox and Valentino

Say Vox and Val have an argument Velvette wasn’t around for, so they’re both pissed at each other - Velvette comes to their little shared common space, completely drained from work and drapes herself over whoever is there

Valentino; will immediately start bitching to her but also scoop her up and plop on the couch, maybe get some snacks and drinks as they both recharge

Vox; stays quiet - doesn’t like talking after an argument but will do something similar, maybe go into his office instead to stalk someone while having Velvette in his lap. Velvette is just there doom scrolling on her phone or taking a nap while Vox rubs her back

Whoever Velvette runs into first - she can sense the argument happened. So once she’s recharged and taken care of herself - she’ll text them something stupid like “Can’t sleep. Come here. Now.” without telling Vox or Valentino that the other one will be there - both of them go in her room and are - pissed lol

(Think of that Spongebob episode where Squidward tries to make Patrick and SpongeBob be friends again 💀)

But yeah uhmmm Velvette’s gonna 1. Address the issue directly 2. Force both Vox and Valentino to sleep with her bc she’s too tired to deal with them but will force them into the awkward situation cause she wants the entertainment

If scenario 2 happens Velvette is obviously sandwiched in between Vox and Valentino while they stare at each other angrily. Whoever speaks way too loud first gets punched by Velvette (happens multiple times) so they’re forced to quietly “discuss their issues” while Velvette is playing dumb and pretending to sleep - eventually things do work out and they all fall asleep

I don’t even know where I was going with this it’s incredibly disorganized I just like ranting about the Vees help - love silly Velvette headcanons where she’s the one who’s in control I guess lol

I totally agree with like half of what you've written - with the part taht Vox and Valentino both need someone to confide with. None of them has a lot of opportunities to be just comfortable with another person. Sure they have each other but romantic relatisohips are often more "loaded" than frienships and while they can grant deeper connection, they also generate greater tension. That's why lifelong frienships are way more common than lifelong romances.

But I don't find the idea of Velvette's infantilization appealing, sorry. She strikes me as a person who craves to be feared and respected, to the level that it feels almost like overcompesating for her young age (compared to other Overlords) and non-threatening form. I don't see why would she allow anyone, even her friends to treat her like a plushie. Especially when those friends are power hungry maniacs who nutoriously prey on people they see as weaker.

That doesn't mean I think your headcanon is wrong or bad. It just doesn't allign with my own interpretation. Which is perfectly fine, they can't even be compared in their accuracy in relation to canon because we barely have any canon. So please, don't take it personally - I love you have fun with your ideas, that's the most important part of fandom <3

[aliceismypixie]

The villain of my story ∥ Ten days granted

Summary - "The villain will always be the villain if the hero tells the story" or atleast that's what they say. No one knew why you became what you are. But you wanted your revenge on Isabella Marie Swan and you were ready to do anything to have it.

Pairing - Twilight x villain!reader

Pronoun - she/her (but can be read as a male reader or gn reader)

Warning - The reader is an immortal child, swearing, talk of kidnapping, brief mention of killing, my poor writing skill for hunting, mention blood, Edward being full of himself

Words count - 1.66k~

Set - After Breaking-Dawn Part 2

Chapter 2 - Masterlist

You were annoyed. You had Ratatouille Renesmee in your lair for five days now and honestly, she was slowly making you regret ever kidnapping her.

"So you don't want to kill me ?"

"No."

"But you want my mommy ?"

"Yes."

"Why ?"

"Because."

"Because is not a reason. Really you could have targeted someone with a family weaker than ours.".

"I have good reasons."

"What are they ? It's kind of boring here don't you think ? You should add some colors on your wall !"

"No."

"Why not ?"

"Because I say so."

"But it's boring !"

"Shut up."

"That's a bad word !!"

"SHUT THE F― oh my God, kids nowaday."

"You look younger than I though."

"I'll burn the kid today." A groan escaped your lips as you turned away to grab your coat and out on your hood.

"Imma go on a little hunt. Stay in your cage and try to find something to distract you in your tiny space." You walked out as the girl started to speak again.

"Hey, don't leave me alone ! That's not very kind !"

The moment you closed the door, you finally felt like you could breathe. How was that kid Isabella's daughter ? She was so talkative while her mother was probably the most awkward introvert you've ever got to meet. But when you were younger, people always prefered a shy introvert who loved to read than a loud extrovert who jumped on trees.

Rolling your eyes at the thought, you made your way toward the entrance of the wood and jumped on a few trees. It was always better up there, that way you could see your prey any human much better. And as if your thought summoned them, a couple walked in the forest. They were dressed in a bunch of hiking equipment so they were probably here to see the awesome view the mountain offered them once they reached the top. Sadly they would never get the chance to.

Following behind them quietly, you always vomit your dinner hearing their cringe lovey-dovey discussion. The couple was talking about their movie date a week before and it was an awkward date and also an annoying one. Because honestly, who goes to the movie theater to watch a documentary on otters ?

"I love you bug-a-boo~"

"And I love you more winnie poo~"

"No ! Me bug-a-boo !"

"Me winnie-poo !"

"No―"

"Both of you are dead now anyways." You jumped off the trees you were on and you pinned them both on the ground with your feet smoothly.

"Who am I going to eat first ?" You smirked at their horrified expression and lowered yourself before taking a deep breath.

"You love alcohol don't you ?" You asked the man and his eyes widened while his girlfriend glared at him.

"What !? I thought you stopped ?!" She claimed and you rose and eyebrow surprised.

"Man you lied to your girl ? That's kinda low." You pointed out and the woman huffed before looking away from her boyfriend and you smirked.

"She cheated on me three times with all my boys !" He claimed and you looked at the girl in surprise.

"Damn, low blow girl." You acknowledged and the girl gasped dramatically before glaring at her boyfriend or ex-boyfriend whatever.

"Both of you are dead anyways."

Screams echoed through the forest and then there were two bodies, lying lifelessly on the ground, a bunch of claw marks on their bodies along with a few burns but no blood coming out of their injuries. Their blood got drained and the bear that clawed them was already jumping from trees to trees to go back home.

On your way back, you crossed a deer drinking some water and you stopped on your track. For the past five days she was there, Renasberry didn't eat all because she was brainwashed into their weird aff vegetarian diet or because the hybrid weird kid wanted human's food. But you needed to keep her alive somehow. A silent groan escaped your lips as your eyes the deer before you and prepared yourself to kill it.

Snapping its neck was an easy part honestly, especially since you just feet, carrying it to your super villain's lair was also an easy part, opening the door though, was kind of harder. But you were a super villain so you guess what you did ? A badass kick in the door and busted in.

The weird hybrid kid named Rasputin turned toward the door in shock and you rolled your eyes before dumping the deer in her cage and creating a new fire door for your lair.

"Eat up. You're paler than your mom when she was able to be sick." You glared before turning away and the kid looked at you with a teasy grin.

"You got me some food ! It's because you care~" Renesmee teased and you rolled your eyes annoyed.

"No I don't."

"You so do."

"Do not !"

"So do !"

"Do not !"

"Do not !"

"So do !" You replied and the kid smirked at you while you realized what you just said and a groan escaped your lips once again.

"How the fuck did I fall for that stupid two year old trick ?" You muttered.

"You said a bad word !"

"SHUT UP AND EAT !"

The Cullen's household wasn't happy anymore. You know how Bella used to say that her life was a nightmare before meeting Edward because now she has a handsome rich vampire husband ? Well now she thought that her life was worse because she lost her beautiful super rare hybrid daughter.

"We couldn't find her anywhere." Jasper announced seriously as him, Emmett and Seth arrived in the living room and Edward rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Seeing his brother's reaction's Emmett felt his own anger starting to rose up. Yes, Emmett wasn't the type to get annoyed or angry, except if you won against him in video games, but he wasn't annoyed for that. No, the big bad himbo vampire was annoyed because Edward was acting like he was the only one affected by the disappearance of ReNameMe, sorry oh my goodness, your author may have a problem with Razzel Dazzel's real name, Renesmee. Edward was acting like Rosalie wasn't isolating herself in her room out of guilt and refused to face anyone. See Emmett was usually very playful. That was until his wife was hurting and everyone just ignored it.

But was Emmett McCarty Cullen the main character ? No, you guessed it. He was probably the most underrated sibling of the Cullen's family but let's not talk about that.

Reading the thoughts of his brother, Edward glared at him from his seat on the couch and scoffed.

"Well I'm sorry, if your wife would have kept a eye on my daughter we wouldn't be here !" The golden brunet expressed and Emmett growled.

"Hey ! Rose did what she could ! You should have kept on eye on Renesmee she is your daughter after all ! Don't put everything on my wife !" Emmett's eyes turned darker as he was ready to jump on his brother.

Seeing the outbrust about to happen, Alice decided to take Jasper out of the room. The empath was already overwhelmed enough by everyone in the room, he didn't need to feel the emotions of the fight as a plus. Seth followed shortly after them, believe it or not he thought of them like his second parents. Leah followed her brother obviously, leaving Esme, Carlisle, Bella, Jacob, Edward and Emmett in the living room.

"Everyone calm down." Esme tried to sooth the atmosphere miserably.

Poor woman hated to see her children hurting and she hated even more to see them fight each other. Over the past few years, it has been hard for everyone between the hunters, the newborns army, the pregnancy and all the drama following the Volturi, Esme's caring nature couldn't help but worry for her children. But people oftenly forget that she existed too. She was Dr. Cullen's wife, not Esme, just Dr. Cullen's wife, so let's not make a big deal about her and how she might feel after all those years, yes ?

"No Esme, I'm sorry but Edward here needs to know that he is not the only one being hella worried about Nessie." Jacob butt in and Edward growled at him before getting up and face the alpha.

"If you were so worried you would have run faster !"

"And if you were so worried you wouldn't have let your daughter in the guard of other people ! Especially if you're not gonna assume your mistake after it !"

"I'm going to―"

"Boys ! Please ! Don't fight each other. Not now." Bella begged and the two turned toward her pleading eyes before getting off each other.

Like usual, Bella was the peacemaker between the two boys. Were they supposed to be adult now ? Yes they were. But the main character is the hero in every situation am I not right ? So let's make Bella act like the perfectly not-awkward-anymore-super-powerful-vampire-newborn main character that she is.

"Emmett, go check on Rosalie yes ?" Carlisle told his second son who simply huffed before being taken out of the room by his adopted mother.

"Edward, I know that you're frustrated but we're all soing our best to find her. And Jacob, I know that your imprint link makes you act up but we need to calm down and sit to think about a way to get Renesmee back without any harm." Carlisle announced when suddenly Seth ran back into the room, a familiar type of half burned letters in hands and a horrified expression on his face.

"Carlisle ! This was by the entrance of the wood. The child's sent is all over it." The young shifter exclaimed and Edward snatched the letter from his hands before that his expression fell and the words of the letter rolled off his tongue.

"'Fighting each other for five days, losing her more for five days. You had ten days granted. Tic, tac, fire and flames'."

Chapter 4

[a-french-coconut]

Part 3

He attacks every monster he crosses path with.

It's funny to surprise them, their eyes widening because they are not used to being the prey. Chasing them is exhilarating, feeling their fear when they understand they are the one in danger.

Each one trigger a little more of his memory.

He's a demigod, son of Apollo.

He's the son of a fucking god who can't be bothered in actually checking on him to see if he's okay.

Whatever, he did fine without the guy and does not need his help.

His name is still unknown but others are swirling in his mind.

Lee Fletcher, the blond guy who got killed by a giant.

Will Solace, the smaller blond guy who wanted him to teach him healing.

Kayla Knowles, they did archery together.

Clarisse La Rue, the one he told to eat his quiver and something about a flying chariot.

Other people appear sometimes, two identical brothers, a dark haired guy swirling a pen in his hand often accompanied by a blonde girl. Those he can't put names on their faces but he knows they have been a part of his ancient life.

Everything is still foggy but sometimes it appears with painful clarity.

The water surface getting closer and closer because he fell off a bridge.

A lyre above his head and a centaur kneeling in front of him.

A dragon in the woods, arrows embedded in its skin.

So much memories, all in disorder, but it's a start.

He swiftly dodges the talons trying to tear him apart. This time he's the one who's got attacked by that weird donkey girl. He hadn't expected crossing a monster during his short stroll in the city, which in retrospective was a dumb thought, and she was fast.

A hit sends him flying against a wall, he groans when he feels his ribs are broken. Thanks to his dad, the only thing good about him, he heals faster than mortals. It's also the only reason they found him still alive two years ago. But it's not fast enough to restore his bones before the monster kill him.

He can't die again.

He's got a whole life to discover.

He can't die

But she's on him, claws suffocating him and teeth draining his blood.

"Get the fuck off me !"

He tries to kick her, scratch her, even bite her but the blood loss and the pain from the broken ribs are getting him.

Black spots cover his vision.

His attacks get weaker and weaker.

An arrow pierces the monster's neck, he's dropped on the ground.

He's against the street's wall.

A figure approaches him and he can dimly figure out the shape of a tall guy.

Tall guy kneels in front of him and lift his face.

They both freeze.

Golden curls and blue eyes. A bright smile on a small child, excited about learning.

"Michael ?", whispers Will Solace in incredulity.

Michael

His name opens the gates and he remembers everything.

The Battle of the Labyrinth, his brother's death.

Luke Castellan waging war on the gods, on him and his younger siblings.

Younger siblings he abandoned in the aftermath of war.

Did they even win ? He guesses so.

Will is still alive. What about Kayla and Austin ? Travis, Connor, Percy, Annabeth, Silena ?

Did they all make it out alive ?

"Will I'm-"

"Save your breath you're injured. I'm taking you back to Camp. Don't you dare die now Michael !"

Will scoops him up with embarrassing ease and he allows himself to pass out.

He is in goods hand after all, he trained them.

part 4 posted !

[weavercobra]

Original art by Aria Wraithe, modified by Shinris Starlight

Myoticia

Mother of Vampires, Great Hunter in the Dark, The Bloody Bat

Vampirism, be it considered a curse or a blessing, is not a natural condition. It fundamentally transform those who receive it into something else, something predatory, something powerful, something ageless. And the patron of these dark beings is Myoticia.

On Myoticia

The chiropteran goddess is an ancient deity, born in the primordial past of the universe. A predator at heart, she stalked the darkness of the chaos, preying on the great monsters and other deities of the era, feeding on their blood to grow stronger. Sometimes she traded favour for favour, lending strength in exchange for the intoxicating taste of ichor. Other times, she ambushed and hunted, taking by force what would not be freely given.

As the world settled and mortal races began multiplying, they caught Myoticia's eyes. Among them were those who were hunters like her, people of strength and will, of cunning and brutality, who by varied means chased their prize,whether that chase be literal or metaphorical. Myoticia found herself fascinated by these beings, so much weaker than her, yet striving so hard none the less.

The exact story of what happened next varies. Certainly, the number of vampire families who claim direct descend from this event are far too numerous for all of it to be true. And the story has been muddled by the passage of time. But broad strokes are that Myoticia was so taken in by a hunter that she offered a drop of her own essence. Why they choose to accept is also a matter of debate. Some say it was an old hunter, longing for the power of their youth. Other an arrogant but accomplished noble, who wished for more power. And yet others suggest a dying warrior, desperate to prolong their life. Whatever the case, they accepted and was forever changed.

The first vampire had been born, but alongside their new strength, enhanced senses and magical power came also a prize. Myoticia was a deity of the dark and so her new children were also tied to it, weakened and even harmed by the sunlight. Their hunger too became as great as their progenitor's and vampires were to forever hunt and chase the lifeblood of others to sustain their immortal life.

Myoticia truly sees vampirism as a gift that elevates those who receive it and her policy on the embrace is that it is a mutual process. The vampire must embrace a mortal as much as the mortal must embrace vampirism. Forced conversion is a good way to earn her ire. Myoticia has often offered vampirism to mortals whom she's grown fond of, but has always accepted a no.

The Myotician Faith

Central to the Myotician faith is the concept of predation and the hunt. The exact tenets of these can vary depending on the local congregation and, especially, how much they deal with vampirism. But in broad strokes, the faith holds that rarely are things in life freely given and that one must be prepared to take. This can take many forms. More beneficially, its an encouragement of ambition and personal development. If you have goals you want, strive to achieve them. Figure out how to accomplish them. Don't hold yourself back. Less so, some variants of the faith encourage taking advantage of others, however you can get away with it. If you want something, take it. Their pain is not your concern.

It is however important to remember that Myoticia is a hunter, not a parasite, despite that being a common comparison. The faith heavily disapproves of those who do nothing to earn, who just take and take without actually putting in an equal amount of effort. In some areas, this puts the faith at odds with the upper classes and the powers that be. The faith is not inherently against hierarchies, as such is seen as a natural expression of power, but a leader who does nothing but eat what their underlings bring them is not a leader at all. If the church doesn't attempt to oust them, they will often back whomever will. Not even vampires are immune to this, as Myoticia takes a dim view on any of her children who'd squander her beautiful gifts by sitting back on a silken pillow and letting the blood and money just roll in.

Vampirism is an unavoidable but thorny subject. In areas where vampires are disliked or hunted down, the Myotician faith is rarely welcome and worshippers are often treated as vampire allies by default. This is not entirely unearned. In lands where vampires rule, the Myotician faith often gains power, in return supporting such rulership theologically. How well that works out for the common people depends then entirely on the nature of their vampiric rulers.

Myotician churches tend to be dark, lit by enchanted candles that glow red or, for especially important rooms, purple. Sermons are usually held at night, especially under the new moon. Facilities vary, but usually at least one room is equipped with a blood font. This basin is filled with blood which never putrefies. These a said to be direct links to Myoticia and her faithful freely give of their blood to these fonts, either as an act of worship or penance. Some churches, especially those with wealthy patrons, can be quite elaborate. Many vampire castles often include a dedicated church as part of them, though some extremely grand projects involve adding entire cathedrals to the structure as a demonstration of either faith, wealth, status or all of the above.

Worshippers

Vampires or people who aspire to be vampires are unsurprisingly common. Many even relatively faithless vampires offer at least lip-service and the occasional offering to Myoticia, just to stay on her good side. But besides them are also those who worship her in her aspects as a goddess of the hunt or the night. This can include big game hunters, adventurers, anyone on the night shift and so on.

The colours of Myoticia are red and purple, and so her priesthood tend to wear the same. Capes are popular, especially designed to mimic the wings of bats. Some worshippers, especially those following her more predatory tenets, may file their teeth if their species don't generally have sharp fangs.

Paradoxical as it may seem, some vampire hunters also worship Myoticia. All her aspects are relevant to their job, after all, and Myoticia do not consider vampires above being hunted themselves. While they are more likely to receive her blessing if she's personally annoyed with their target, she has also been known to aid those who just displays the traits she favour. Other vampire hunters find this blasphemous to say the least.

Associates

Leo Carver: Myoticia sometimes develop such a fondness for a given mortal that she elects to court them, or let them court her, depending on circumstances. By the time most mortals can even attempt to try and get her attention, however, they're usually at least middle-aged, and thus most dalliances are either short lived or end in vampirism. Not so with Leo, who during one of his adventures was cursed with immortality(Cursed in Leo's opinion, anyway). The stubborn, grumpy treasure-hunter slash shopkeeper has steadfastly refused giving up his humanity and Myoticia has fully respected his opinion, though she is delighted that she can keep him around anyway. Leo in turn finds comfort in having an intimate relationship he won't outlive yet again.

Myoticia in my Settings

Spheres: While still goddess of all vampires, she is especially considered the patron of the vampires of the sphere of Arnyekfold. Each lineage of vampire in the Spheres setting takes after a specific blood-drinking animal, bats in the case of those of Arnyekfold. The Sanders family can claim the most direct lineage from her, though all families that have splintered from them claim some descent. Her church, likewise, is most powerful in Arnyekfold and is in a state of open war with the Soarelian Compact, a powerful alliance of faiths that would see vampires eradicated.

Panepithumia: The Myotician faith is most prevalent in Überwald and it is where most vampires can be found. The land is ruled mostly by various vampire clans, houses or whatever they choose to call themselves, and the church often has to use its influence to get everyone to play nice with each other. Her most famous church is the Church of the Night in the town of Greyburgh, which has grown considerably through donations by several powerful groups, such as the vampiric Sanders family.

[sorcerous-caress]

Honestly your blog is the only BG3 blog I check daily. (Dam you- for having me check tumblr everyday now)

Now for an ask. What do you think Selunite!Shadowheart- Were!shadowheart, Minthara and Gale (bonus Karlach) would react to a Dark Urge Tav who has apparently an insane questionable and despicable past (regarding the in game apparent sexual relation to Orin and necrophelia unfortunately, which mind blown from a player perspective)

- undecided anon

-

This actually means a lot to me that you're interested enough in my thoughts and writing to check it out every day <3 as much as it feals like I'm yelling into the void sometimes, it's nice to remember there are actual people on the other end in the void who are silently listening.

Thank you for telling me this, words genuinely fail me when it comes to describing how these small comments make me happy.

Now, mention of dark topics below cut

Including Necrophilia, Incest, Exhibition, Gore, Murder, Torture, Body fluids, Animal abuse, and Vivisections

Durge is genuinely unhinged. Through all the flashbacks and hints we see of their past through the game, one is more horrible than the last.

They dunked their butler's head into the open bladder of the guy they were preforming a vivisection on and choked him in their piss because he made a mistake. Source from the noblestalk flashback.

The sexual implications of their relationship with Gortash, a tyrant who killed and enslaved endless people. I don't recall the Orin implications but taking your words on it, it would kind of be considered incest since she is also a bhaalspawn. She is even a product of incest herself.

They have a long history of animal abuse and mistreatment, too. They aren't below preying on souls weaker than them. The cat on the rooftop in moonrise towers who mentions how Durge kicked her a lot, also the squirrel in act 1.

What they did to Alfira too.

Shadowheart, Minthara, and maybe arguably Karlach have a dark past. All of them have murdered and tortured people in the past.

Minthara

Minthara is the most extreme out of them. Not only did she participate in the cruel nature of drow culture, but also the fact she doesn't exactly see anything wrong with it. Yes, her crimes, her own crimes, not the ones she was brainwashed to commit, pale in comparison to Durge, but it still would make any sane good person turn away from her.

She doesn't react much to Durge's cruelty through the game. If anything, she encourages it and at times turned on by it. I don't think she would encourage Necrophilia and incest but those might be her only hard no. The rest like gore and turtore is not a deal breaker to her.

Minthara is the companion that Durge could be the most free with when it comes to following their dark urges. As long as they don't hold the knife to her own throat. She does think it is freaky and weird of Durge but she is used to freaky and weird from drow culture.

Her moral compass does exist. It's mostly evil. Her only deal breakers are when you betray her own trust, if you hurt other people she doesn't care.

She used to be in love with Orin, even worshipping her. Ingame. But Orin betrayed her trust so Minthara loathed her from that day on.

Although I have a feeling that she condems needless cruelty, sure, sate your appetite, but don't let it consume you. If you can't seize control over your own urges when it matters, then how are you any different from a frenzied mutt? Control yourself and prove to her you are a sane person and she will stay with you.

Shadowheart

Back in her Sharran days, she admits to torturing and breaking prople. She lied and manipulated do many people to get her way and to serve Shar.

It would be hypocritical of her to judge you on your past, no matter how much darker it is than hers in comparison. Especially a Selunite Shadowheart who would feel like she owes her life to you interference back at the nightsong confrontation.

But a Selunite Shadowheart wouldn't indulge your dark urges, she will only forgive your past. If you still seek bloodlust then either let her help you through it, or both of you can go your separate ways.

That's only after the ending tho, during your travel days, she will turn a blind eye to your gorey displays and chalk it up to the cruel road you've faced. She will give you the benfit of the doubt until the city is saved.

Her parents still had hope in her seeing the truth one day and waking up, so she tries to extend the same courtesy to you for as much as she can.

A Werewolf Shadowheart would fall into the same category if she had ended up a Selunite. Although being a werewolf and all, she will relate to your struggle more than normal Shadowheart ever could. She also has urges that steer her to darker thoughts and desires that she battles everyday, the two of you can get through this together.

Karlach

Now her case is...very speical. Technically, she committed no sins or crimes on her own because she was enslaved during her time fighting in the demon wars. Yet still she killed many, she has never developed an appetite for blood because of it.

She doesn't shy away from killing tho, it's an average everyday thing for her now. She will kill and fight if she had to in order to survive.

But, because she has lived among demons, even got almost close to befriending one, she has seen much worse than anything Durge could've ever done.

Incest and Necrophilia barely scratch the surface of what devils get down to. Let alone the humiliation and truely sickening things they force upon their victims. Karlach bared witness to all of that.

She wants Durge to change, not to end up like these devils. She reassures them that they are better than this, that they have the strength to change and not go down this disgusting road.

She isn't phased by it like Minthara, but unlike Minthara, she never endorsed or participated in the cruelty around her.

I think she'll have a heart to heart with Durge about it. Try to get them to see people as real people with souls and emotions, not just cattle for slaughter.

A single life is very precious, especially to someone like her who was robbed of their own life. She will never forgive Durge for robbing an innocent person out of their life.

But she would definitely freak out over the Gortash relationship thing, because more of personal reasons. You fell in love with that monster as he is? The same man who robbed her of her own heart and betrayed her trust? She would genuinely break down.

Gale

He is a very very speical case.

Gale is naive in a way. Not to infantilise him, but he tends to view the world through rose colored lenses. Part to being human, another part to having lived in the lap of luxury and privilege.

Gale saw the best of what the world had to offer, Gale fell in love with a zealous benevolent goddess who's good alligned, Gale was isolated in one of the richest cities in Faerun with rich scholars for friends.

Gale thought Minthara was just misunderstood when he met her.

He is aware of good and evil, he just has such a distorted view of evil that he never recognises it when it's face to face with him. He forgets that evil people can be charming, beautiful and funny and they might just be his own friends.

In his world view, he is good, therefore anything and everything he interacts with willingly must be good.

He is delusional.

And it doesn't help that life and sheer luck only encouraged his delusions, only soldified his views that bad people can be quelled by ordering everyone a shot at the tavren and that no one truly would wish to harm someone else given the chance right?

He will make endless excuses for Durge's past. So many far-fetched justifications to fit you into the box of good people he keeps in his orbit.

That is, if Durge never confronts him with their present urges to still participate in bloodshed.

Otherwise he will just downplay your confessions of guilt and brush off your unsettling comments. Always going the extra mile to give you all the benfits to the doubt.

Unless you make him face the cold truth reality in the form of a slaughtered grove of innocent people.

Even then, while he particpated, his delusions still make excuses for you, telling him there must be a reason for all of this, he just has to have faith in you.

Ans in the aftermath when it's just him and you, kneedeep in gore at camp. He revolts at the sight of you, sneers and glares into your face. Fully blaming everything on YOU. That YOU must be corrupting him, fully driving his agenda that he is good and will always be good! It's you who is responsible for his own actions.

It's also these delusions of him being a good person that inflate his ego enough to let him persure the crown of Karsus, that makes him think he is beyond the corruption of greed while simultaneously blaming any and all of his actions that he doesn't like onto Durge and saying they must've corrupted him.

He isn't just ignorant, he is choosing to remain ignorant.

Durge can manipulate a power hungry Gale into staying with them even while they openly bathe in the remains of corpses. If they feed into his delusions.

[dgrailwar]

Further Servant details under the cut:

ARCHETYPE EARTH:

A beautiful princess of the Moon who hasn't yet tasted blood. In another world, her Class would be 'Funny Vamp'.

She serves as the soul of the Planet, and therefore possesses immense power and purity, raised as a delicate and well-mannered princess. As a Servant she is theoretically much weaker than she would be in her natural state, bound to a Saint Graph rather than the planet itself. Therefore, rather than being able to augment the Earth's rotation and treat continents like pinballs, she's simply only able to create destructive storms and earthquakes with a flick of her fingers.

A version of 'Archetype: Earth' that has retained her innocence, one that being bound to a world of 'Fate' has not met her own. A natural phenomenon in the shape of a girl, a soul who watches over humanity without understanding, an Archetype of the Planet that exists brilliantly and positively, with only the slightest curiosity of when her life will truly begin.

SESSYOIN KIARA:

A Buddhist monk of the Shingon Tachikawa Eiten School. A woman of calm composure and pure veneer.

She is a master Spiritron Hacker, a type of magus from the future that specializes in Code Casts. She thoroughly believes in the value of 'desire', and sees that as her own personal path to truth, making her an entity of unrelenting faith. However, as pure as she may seem, there are no truly perfect souls in the world, and those with seemingly no secrets to hide may hold the most sinister ones of all.

A precise woman, who can see those for who they truly are, while leaving herself an enigma. Like a hungry beast, she stalks her prey, slowly peeling away their layers and exposing their vices before going for the killing strike. While her style of battle is patient, it is exceptionally brutal-- but that's just how matters of the heart are, yes? Reaching that secret flower garden in order to sully it and claim it for yourself.

B.B.:

“Everyone’s favorite kouhai and little devil, B.B.! The beautiful black blossom of the Moon makes her debut, and she has a real nasty cheat skill in order to commemorate! What? There’s something dark and obviously evil mixed into my Spirit Origin? First off, I was already devilish enough, so it was really just a power boost, and also… do you really care that much? I mean, watching our enemies struggle will make any sort of mods worth it, right?”

"Anyways, do I really need to sell myself? Oh, well maybe there are a few people who aren't in the loop, and I'd hate for any potential fans to get FOMO! What do you want to know? My three sizes? My greatest fear? My one true love? Well, that's a big 'nope' to all three! I'm what some people may deem a 'rogue (and powerful) A.I', a scourge on the Moon. A 'Moon Cancer' (obviously), and any sort of digital, quasi-digital, pseudo-digital, or conceptually-digital space is basically my domain! So, you know, if you're looking for winners…"

"Anyways, you know the right choice (It's me, if you didn't realize). I'll ~ be ~ in ~ your ~ care ~! ♡"

GANESHA:

The Great Statue God. The God of Prosperity and Fortune. The Elephant-headed God of Overcoming Obstacles, Ganesha. A mighty Divine Spirit, distilled into a vessel that Ganesha himself thought was suitable- a woman who had her very fate changed on the surface of the Moon.

Vessels are chosen, and often don't volunteer, so this particular soul was rather surprised to end up a Divine Spirit. However, she's willing to step out into the world and give it 110% to represent Lord Ganesha! Do your best~!

"…eh? Seriously?!"

…This Ganesha greatly enjoys living the slow life, not having to worry about combat, danger, or fighting-- however, as a vessel for a god that also represents forward progress and overcoming obstacles, she can’t sit and bide her time forever (despite REALLY wanting to). Finding out when to rest and when to strike… perhaps that’s a lesson that both you and this god’s vessel can learn together.

[chaoticgoodthief]

Undertale Characters as Pokémon

Ok, I recently had this dumb idea to reimagine some of the major Undertale characters as Pokémon. But I wanted it to be interesting. I couldn't just Pokémonify the characters. Hell, I couldn't even make them based on physical appearance. Noooo the overachiever part of me that only comes out in this exact level of Dumb Idea TM decided to make it based on the personalities and/or lore.

So, without futher ado, I present to you this thing that I drew instead of studying:

Before you we have:

Player as Mimikyu

People had difficulty recognising it as a Pokémon, many having believed it to simply be a ghost in disguise. It is said to be a cursed being, and those who have seen under their rags have all died painfully. No, I will not separate the player into different pokemon based on routes that's a choice, not a personality.

Undyne as Arbok

Vengeful and territorial. Will not give up chasing its prey no matter how far. Terrifyingly strong, can not be escaped once you are inside its grip. I'm so proud of the pattern I made for this one and will not accept criticism.

Mettaton as Alolan Meowth

It is very spoiled, selfish and arrogant, which makes it popular. Usually preys on weaker Pokémon. Will become very aggressive when someone dirties its coin or hurts its self-esteem. This one was perfect, handed down to me by Mew itself. I had to do it. Look at it and tell me I'm wrong.

Asgore as Kangaskhan

It has zero forgiveness for those who harm its child and will beat them down. There are records of a lost human child being raised by a childless Kangaskhan. Yes I know Kangaskhans are all female. Yes, I know I could have made Toriel the Kangaskhan and Asgore the Drakloak. But I already drew both of them and it was a pain I am not changing it now.

Sans as Abra

It sleeps for 18 hours a day. It senses impending attacks and teleports away to safety before the actual attacks can strike. Do I need to say more?

Papyrus as Wobbuffet

The patient Pokémon, the pacifist that will almost never attack foes without provocation. Prefers to avoid confrontation entirely, sheltering themselves away from most other Pokémon. It constantly hides its tail in darkness, which is considered to be proof that the tail hides some sort of secret.

Flowey/Asriel as Phantump

Ok, this might not be perfect in terms of personality, but the lore was just too good to give up the opportunity. Legends say that Phantump are spirits of children who got lost in the deep forest and perished. Their cries sound like eerie screams. By imitating the voice of a child, it causes people to get hopelessly lost deep in the forest. It’s trying to make friends with them.

Muffet as Frillish

Don't be deceived by its cute appearance, it will poison its prey and drag them into the depths of the ocean to drown and be eaten. I wish I was kidding. Ghost Pokémon are horrifying if you actually think about it for a few minutes.

Toriel as Drakloak

Blah blah blah Kangaskhan blah blah lazy blah blah. You've already heard this before, so I'll skip the rant. Without a Dreepy to place on its head and care for, it gets so uneasy it'll try to substitute any Pokémon it finds for the missing Dreepy. If a Drakloak is defeated in a battle, its Dreepy will wander off without a second thought.

You may have noticed that I didn't include Alphys. Other than wanting a nice, easy number of drawings to sort, I do have a reason for that. You see, Alphys doesn't really... fit a Pokémon that well. She acts more like a professor to me, especially due to her experiments with DT and the mess that it caused so yeah. It's totally not because I'm lazy (ok maybe only partially).

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

so i've been writing up a lot of sdmi meta lately, sometimes pretty scathingly and sometimes with a lot of praise, and man it is a real whiplash to go from 'sdmi did a fantastic job showing how a marginalized person--a villain, even--being body-shamed even one time is Fucked, and a major signal that the person who does it is abusive and about to do him serious harm,' to

'so people in the show constantly make unnecessary, derogatory, degrading comments about the abuser's body. he is an extremely marginalized person who has been dehumanized from birth for having that body, up to and including being considered legal property; he has been tortured in a pressure cooker of abuse targeted at his minority status for a quarter of his life. this is Quirky and Witty and Whimsical, no one has a problem with it, and we are going to just skate right on by that without ever even acknowledging that he's oppressed. moving along now'

like, in pericky's case it's interesting to explore how ricky does say some genuinely extremely shitty, bigoted things to pericles that are presumably part of why he snaps and hits him, but he's doing that in the context of being abused, and pericles is reacting to it in the context of abusing him. ricky's not a great person and does not spend his time around great people, but he's trying to stand up for himself with the verbal and emotional vocabulary he has available. the person he's trying to draw on for the strength and the beliefs to do that with--the language to do that with--is his only real example of someone in pericles' life who has never, ever bowed to him.

......aaaaaaaand she's super fucking racist. and is the one who makes the bulk of the body-shaming comments about pericles in the show. so no wonder ricky turned around and incorporated that into trying to imitate her.

but see, she also has a reason to be racist/ableist to pericles: he preyed on and traumatized her and the people she loved, and ruined all their lives (and tbh, my personal read is that he was probably pretty emotionally abusive to her when she was a teenager). like, sure, that's a lot less of an immediate reason not to take someone to task over being shitty about their abuser than Currently Being Abused the way ricky is. cassidy's a grown adult who's had two decades of distance from him to heal, and has had plenty of opportunity in the meantime to unpack that hey! your abuser was one (1) shitty person from this extremely vulnerable demographic of people who have otherwise never done jack shit to you! maybe don't do things like call them 'it' and threaten to put them down because you're mad at that one guy! just a thought.

but still, she had a reason, right? right.

and when marcie uses the fact that he's much smaller and weaker than her to grab him and threaten to break his neck; tortures him in a way that can only be done to him because of the kind of body that he has; and intentionally calls him the wrong species to compare him to a nonsapient animal, with the connotation of preparing him to be cooked and eaten ('one wrong move and i pluck this ugly little chicken').... well shit, dude, you can't exactly hold that against her under the circumstances, can you? just, like, gestures at EVERYTHING that's happened, including the fact that he'd just spent god knows how long torturing her by keeping her trapped in a box, and she's a teenage girl who's doing this to hold the line with the knowledge that she's about to die violently. which she does. at pericles' orders. like, jesus, that's not exactly a situation to lecture someone about Problematic Language.

after all: she had a reason. right?

right.

this is something i see over and over, especially in sci-fi/fantasy settings where it's easy for the writers to make up their own social contexts, exaggerate Bad Things to the extreme, or both.

on the one side of this equation you have the hatebait: a minority character who's written to be Super Evil and Monstrous and Hateable, who says slurs and kicks babies into traffic and often as not is a sexual predator--the worst of the worst, and you'd never defend someone like that, would you? they deserve any bad thing that happens to them, don't they? anything they say they don't like about their situation (god forbid want to change) must just be an excuse, a sob story, maybe outright hypocritical given how they treat other people, right?

awesome, glad we've got that out of the way. now we can move on to the part where you cheer for brutal violence targeted at that minority, or at least go 'well, that's rough i guess, but they're a Really Bad Guy, so....'

(one of my least favorite examples of this ever is the trope where the villain in their True Form(tm) is physically small, weak, disabled, and/or Really Really Old, and when they're defeated they're stripped down to that state to hurt/humiliate/imprison/kill them. and/or watch horrific things happen to their body as a direct result of being removed from the source of their size/youth/power/basic fucking life support. it is DEEPLY distressing and i hate it so much.)

it is really fucking upsetting how well this works. i tend to get really invested in characters like this.

so we have our object of 'justified' bigotry, hatred, and violence. but then you have the other half of the equation:

the person who Always Has a Reason.

there's been a lot said about the appeal of bodice-ripper fantasies: they're popular in large part because in a sex-negative society women are shamed for their sexuality and for wanting sex, and there's catharsis for some people in stories about being Allowed to cut loose and enjoy it because you had no choice in the matter. nobody can blame you for that, right?

(in real life they can and will, because society is shit about survivors and hates us. but that's real life; this is the safety of your own fantasy to work things through, with no voices spouting bullshit at you except the ones you're allowing to talk for the express purpose of telling them to shut up.)

so there's that. and somewhere there is an excellent post about SPN, and similarly full-of-whump shows marketed to the same demographic of men, being maybe the same thing for those men in a different way: if Every Possible Terrible Gutwrenching Devastating Loss and Trauma and Torture happens to you, then surely it won't make you any less of a man if you cry and break down, show weakness and pain. nobody can blame you for that, right?

(i don't know where that post went. if anyone has the link to pass on i'll add it here, because it is a Really Good Post and worth reading.)

all well and good so far. understandable.

and then you get to the person who Always Has a Reason. and what they Always Have a Reason for is bigotry, hatred, and violence toward minorities. or representations of real-life minorities with a hasty oppression-swap fantasy AU slapped on.

they oppressed the character's people. they tortured them. they murdered their family. they genocided their planet. they're abusing them. they raped them. they ruined their life. maybe the character is a kid who's young and in over their head and going through enough shit already, and can't really be held up to the standards of an adult who's not currently experiencing War Crimes.

you wouldn't begrudge them defending themself, right? you wouldn't begrudge them hating their tormentors and lashing out at them when they get the chance, and savoring it when they land a blow (no matter how low)? you wouldn't expect them to be a hundred percent progressive and politically correct and careful of their language in the face of that?

nobody could blame them for that, right? right.

right.

(funnily enough: it doesn't go the other way. the minority hatebait is always a hundred percent responsible for any shitty thing they do in retaliation for what they're subjected to, or attempt they make to stop it. often as not, their actions mean that whatever injustice they were yammering about should be dismissed for everyone suffering under it, because this guy used it as an Excuse and that's why you can't have nice things (basic rights).)

anyway, yeah, this is. a Thing and i see it a Lot. and it does really chap me how extreme and totally unaddressed it is in sdmi, because if you don't let the framing get away with hatebait and Always Having a Reason, then pericles makes for a really really complex and compelling exploration of someone who's been dealt a shit hand and suffered terribly also happening to be the miserable, hateful old cunt who wrecked generations of your family because they desperately needed help and didn't get it.

[thecreaturecodex]

Priscilla

Image © @iguanodont​

[A present for my girlfriend, @abominationimperatrix​. As you may be able to tell from the art, this OC started life as a Houndoom in a Pokemon setting. So we talked about how to fit her into Pathfinder, particularly my take on Pathfinder, and settled on the gerulfus. There’s definitely a tradition, possibly more in line with fakelore than folklore but still, of relatively benevolent dog-headed humanoids, like the wulver or dwayyo. Plus, I’m still awfully proud of digging up “gerulfus” as a generic name for dog-headed humanoids.]

Priscilla CR 19 N Outsider (native) This humanoid appears to be an anthropomorphic hellhound, with curving horns and a spade on the end of her tail. Her fur is a dark magenta hue, and growths like an external spinal column and ribs stretch along her back and sides. She wears mismatched leather armor and a spiked collar.

Before there was Priscilla, there was a gerulfus in the Sanos Forest. Created by the fears and anxieties of the people of Sandpoint, Wartle, and other nearby communities about everything from goblins to ghouls to the Sandpoint Devil, this gerulfus was determined to make the Sanos Forest its territory. Unfortunately, there was already a powerful monster occupying the forest—a phouka witch named Gigi, who considered herself the “Scary Fairy Godmother” of Varisia. Time and again, the gerulfus threw itself at Gigi, and time and again, Gigi repelled her with tricks and spells. Eventually a combination of fatigue and curiosity got the gerulfus to ask, “Why haven’t you just killed me?”

Gigi explained that she was impressed by the gerulfus’ tenacity and zeal, and thought that those qualities could be turned to more productive use. That was enough to start a friendship, which eventually blossomed into a romance. They talked of Gigi’s patron, Mormo the Goddess of Predators, and about how Golarion in general and the Inner Sea region specifically was plagued by demons and on the verge of ecological collapse. They also talked of identity and presentation, and Gigi helped Priscilla to decide on her new appearance, gender and name. Now reborn as her better self, Priscilla is Gigi’s right hand monster, and one of Mormo’s most powerful servitors in Avistan.

Priscilla is the bogey’s bogey. She hunts monsters that cause undue suffering and ecological catastrophe. Priscilla’s favorite prey are demons, as they are tactically challenging, worthy opponents, but she has fought an entire codex of creatures and lived to tell the tale. Prisciilla might be the foremost authority on monster biology, behavior and abilities in all of Avistan: certainly in Varisia. She has sworn her service to Mormo, and combines divine spells with her natural cunning in combat to eradicate Lamashtu cults and powerful monsters. Varisia is her most frequent hunting ground, but she can and does use her gerulfus magic to open portals to travel across the globe and into the First World.

Priscilla is a tenacious combatant. She may stalk prey for hours, even days, in order to observe their strengths and weaknesses. Her spells are primarily used to enhance her tracking abilities and to bolster the strength of her and her allies. Priscilla often fights alone, but may also lead commando raids of other Mormo worshipers, or work with local monsters and people who want to fight back against greater threats. Although she carries a bow and arrow for flying enemies, Priscilla eschews the use of melee weapons—she still likes to get her teeth and claws dirty. Against weaker foes, Priscilla uses stealth to take them out with a single decisive strike, but she does enjoy a good old fashioned, knockdown brawl now and again.

Priscilla           CR 19 XP 204,800 Variant gerulfus inquisitor (sanctified slayer) 8 N Large outsider (native) Init +13; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +23, scent, see in darkness Aura frightful presence (30 ft., Will DC 23) Defense AC 39, touch 23, flat-footed 33 (-1 size, +6 Dex, +9 natural, +7 deflection, +7 armor, +1 insight) hp 303 (12d10+8d8+198) Fort +20, Ref +16, Will +21; +4 vs. negative and positive energy effects Immune fear; SR 21 Defensive Abilities fortification (50%), terror shield Offense Speed 40 ft., 60 ft. gallop Melee +5 bite +34 (2d6+17), 2 +5 claws +33 (1d6+17) Ranged +1 adaptive longbow +24/+19/+14 (2d6+12/x3) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Psychic Magic CL 12th, concentration +19 (+23 casting defensively) 20 PE—crushing despair (DC 21, 3 PE), dancing lights (0 PE), dimension door (4 PE), dream scan (DC 22, 5 PE), ego whip II (DC 21, 4 PE), synaptic scramble (DC 21, 4 PE) Special Attacks bane (17 rounds/day), breath weapon (60 foot line, 6d10 fire, Ref DC 26 half, 1d4 rounds), fear feeder, fey portal, scourge of the enemy (+2, Lamashtu), sneak attack +4d6, solo tactics, studied target (2 targets, +2, swift or move action) Spells CL 8th, concentration +15 (+19 casting defensively) 3rd (4/day)—cure serious wounds (DC 20), dimensional anchor, heroism 2nd (6/day)—acute senses, follow aura, see invisibility, shield other 1st (6/day)—bane (DC 18), cure light wounds (DC 18), divine favor, shield of faith, tireless pursuit 0th—brand (DC 17), detect magic, detect poison, light, read magic, stabilize Statistics Str 32, Dex 22, Con 30, Int 19, Wis 24, Cha 24 Base Atk +18; CMB +30; CMD 55 Feats Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes, Dazzling Display, Exploit Lore, Extended Bane, Improved Monster Lore, Improved Natural Weapon (bite), Power Attack, Precise Strike (B), Shatter Defenses, Shielded Caster (B), Weapon Focus (bite) Skills Acrobatics +22 (+26 when jumping, +34 jumping while galloping), Diplomacy +30, Fly +26, Intimidate +27, Knowledge (arcana, dungeoneering, nature, planes, religion) +22 (+33 identifying monsters), Knowledge (local) +19 (+30 identifying monsters), Perception +23, Sense Motive +27, Spellcraft +20, Stealth +23, Survival +23 (+27 when tracking) Languages Abyssal, Aklo, Common, Sylvan, Undercommon, Varisian Gear manual of gainful exercise +4 (expended), manual of bodily health +1 (expended), belt of physical might +6 (Str, Con), headband of mental superiority +4 (Diplomacy, Fly), amulet of mighty fists +5 and natural armor +2, +5 defiant (evil outsider) moderate fortification leather armor, +1 adaptive composite longbow, bane baldric, ring of tactical precision, spiritualist rings, longarm bracers, rod of negation, dusty rose prism ioun stone, pearl of power (3rd level), flying ointment (x2), wand of divine power (25 charges), wand of lesser restoration (40 charges), scroll of true seeing (x2), scroll of arcane sight, potion of haste (x2), 60 arrows, steel holy symbol of Mormo, hunting horn, 5 platinum rings for shield other, 340 gp SQ cunning initiative, detect alignment (at will), discern lies (8 rounds/day), legendary, slayer talent (fast stealth), stern gaze, track, Zeal inquisition, zealous surge (15 hp) Special Abilities Fear Feeder (Su) A gerulfus gains one PE for every creature suffering from a fear effect within 30 feet of its space at the start of each of its turns. Fey Portal (Sp) This ability functions as the planar travel function of the gate spell, except that it can only allow travel between the Material Plane and the First World. This functions as a 7th level spell cast at CL 12th. Gallop (Ex) A gerulfus can switch between a two legged and four legged gait with ease. On all fours, its move speed is 60 feet, but it cannot make claw attacks any round in which is uses its gallop ability. Legendary Priscilla’s statistics are built with 25 point buy, and she has the gear of a 19th level player character. This raises her CR by +1 Scourge of the Enemy (Ex) Priscilla treats worshipers of Lamashtu as if they were her favored enemy (as the ranger class ability), gaining a +2 bonus on the appropriate rolls. Terror Shield (Su) A gerulfus gains a deflection bonus to AC equal to its Charisma bonus. Creatures immune to fear effects ignore this bonus, and a creature that casts remove fear on a gerulfus can make a DC 23 caster level check to suppress this ability for the duration of the spell. Variant Gerulfus Priscilla loses the spell-like abilities of a typical gerulfus, and gains a breath weapon instead. Zealous Surge (Sp) Once per day, when Priscilla is reduced to 0 or fewer hit points, she heals a number of hit points equal to her inquisitor level + her Wisdom modifier.

[dailycharacteroption]

Hunting Paladin (Paladin Archetype)

(art by Springouille and Iksumi on DeviantArt)

It can often be said that paladins are the hunters of evil, but few places is that more true than with today’s subject.

Now, we’ve covered paladins with a little bit of ranger in them before with the likes of the divine hunter, but that archetype was mostly about striking down foes at range and enhancing the ranged attacks of allies, but today we will focus on a form of paladin that focuses on emulating the ranger in terms of tracking foes. (Sadly, the two are incompatible, so no stacking them).

These “hunting paladins” specialize in tracking evil foes through the wilds, ensuring that such wickedness cannot hide far from civilization when it flees the settlements, nor spread wickedness in the untouched parts of the world.

As such, they are master trackers that can glean much more than physical clues about their quarry, as well as hunt them tirelessly where others might falter.

As we’ll soon see, they can be quite relentless, both when tracking and in combat.

These paladins do not immediately learn how to smite evil, instead being empowered by that art much later. Instead, they learn how to hunt evil, letting them track wicked prey with ease and sense when they are close by, possibily negating any cover they hide behind.

Additionally, while they can still sense evil, instead of focusing on foes to quickly ascertain their morality, they instead focus on the trail of one that they are tracking, picking up on the lingering aura of evil in their footsteps.

Eventually they are gifted with the ability to smite, though it is a bit weaker. However, they can benefit from both tracking and smiting at the same time, and spend smites to fuel their hunts as well.

Though limited, they do gain some access to the sort of spells that rangers use, only able to prepare a few from that arsenal at a time, the rest being traditional paladin magic.

Truly relentless in their tracking, these paladins rarely tire and cannot be put to sleep, and help ward their allies against similar effects.

This archetype is interesting. Not exactly a damage-dealer by default due to their relatively weak smite, they do provide tracking utility and increased accuracy against concealed foes. The ability to also cast a few spells from the ranger list cannot be ignored, however, as this provides both utility and offensive options, such as good ol’ leaden blades and the like. While you can build them mostly like paladins, consider feats that are more ranger mainstays for the utility side of the class.

This archetype is fun, but the fact that they can detect evil in a trail might seem a bit powerful in certain games, though it can also be used for schenanigans, such as a traveller who’s trail manifests as evil due to an extremely powerful evil item in their possession. Making assumptions based on secondhand evidence can make or break an encounter, depending on the situation.

The hard stone of Hermitage Pass makes tracking smugglers difficult, but Balen Firebrand tracks not just with mortal senses, but the divine as well, hunting down those who would take illicit goods, including would-be slaves, over the border.

Though he has fought hard to earn the respect of his peers, Kolg still prefers to protect the people in ways that keep him out of the public eye. Old prejudices die hard, and the half-orc would rather not have to deal with that. Perhaps that is why his divine powers manifest in ways that aid in his tracking of the wicked.

Murders on the mountain seem to indicate a rogue yeti is on the prowl, but such a foe is dangerous indeed even for a stalwart hunting paladin. And so Ukaia seeks to recruit local heroes to support her as she tracks the elusive and dangerous degenerate.

[isa-beenme]

Moonchild

Prologue 2.0: 28 Reasons

When Hybern falls, all of their prior experiments are free to take the world as they want, but for months no one hears anything coming from the castle. Until the massacre. Until the whole palace explodes. Their biggest weapon is out, and she only has one objective: get back to her sisters.

Warnings: mentions of child abuse, mentions of experiments with human beings, mentions of possession (?), mentions of child murder, I'm so sorry (please someone tell me if I forgot something)

No one can convince me that the King of Hybern didn't had a bunch of people to write everything that he made thinking that he would be so famous to the point where he would be deeply studied. Change my mind.

Hybern isn't a stupid country. Neither do we have a stupid king. When we made the agreement to turn the human queens into fae, we had already started to search for subjects for the research.

Once the cauldron was complete, we started the tests. What was the minimal and maximal age at which a human girl could get into the water and come out alive. What we could and couldn't do to the tested girl for her to survive the transition. It's easy to say the males weren't pleased by the fact that they couldn't enjoy their prey before and after the transformation or the girls could break. Humans are such fragile beings.

Once we defined those topics, we found out that all of them had some type of power. They were gifted from the damn bathtub. The cauldron considered all of them its children. Stupid magical thing. Not that it was a bad thing; we could always use some additional power in the war.

Of course, some of them were useless, such as helping plants and changing objects' colors. Some of the girls were too stupid and couldn't access their powers, and they ended up becoming nothing more than slaves for the females that could. But, of course, we were lucky with some of them — especially with the ones that were raised here as our old slaves' kin, due to the constant contact with magic — but the girls from Wotawa were the best; all of them proved to be good at bending the magic for their will. If we had more time, we would've created an army full of Wotawa girls.

But one of them — not one of the Wotawinas, surprisingly — is more than special. The king sees it too. He took her under his wing and trained her himself. Of course, she still sleeps in the cells with all the other girls; she trains in those horrible and smelly camps downtown and eats with them at lunch time. But she also took more classes. History, astrology, magic, and all this stuff. It's almost as if she were his own child. It was almost lovely.

Aemma Archeron is her name. Her grandmother sold her for a better property in the Human Lands of Prythian and some gold coins. We thought she wouldn't even survive the travel here, sick little thing she was. But she was also a fighter and a fierce leader. Somehow smart too. Young Aemma got here when she was three. At the age of eight, it was her time to be thrown into the cauldron. She was the first one to not cry or look scared. Some could say she was almost excited. When she came out of that stuff we felt the flame in her, but together with that, something else came too.

As the girls were always in duos (to make sure they weren't surviving out of pure luck), her weaker friend died there. As I said, Aemma refused to die. We crossed the line at the age of eight at that moment. But this is useless data to use here.

When she came out of there, for days in a row she claimed to have a demon following her. We thought she went crazy as a collateral effect of the transition. But then we saw it too, hanging on her shoulders, we heard the whispers the thing left in her ear, even if we couldn't make out the words.

Then she completely lost it one day when the shadow demon took her body and became her. Sweet and soft skin was replaced by burned and gray pieces of flesh. The dark brown silky hair was replaced by black disgustingly oily hair that dripped down her body. And the body was the worst. Marks were painted all over it, and ancient and undistinguished symbols were drawn—no, not drawn, burned in her. And her eyes became pure dripping silver blue, as if the original Aemma was still in there (it took us some weeks until we found out that she was indeed there, controlling or just watching it, depending on the demon's will).

The thing was an ancient being that was long locked in the cauldron, and while lovely Aemma was fighting for her life inside the dumb bathtub, this smart little demon sneaked into her and is now dividing the body with our special girl. If Aemma dies, the being dies. And the being cannot be killed unless Aemma fully takes control. That's why she took control that first time—to ask for rest in Aemma's name.

After that, the King took an interest and started to train her in particular. Bloodlust and killer machine that Enchantress (or how she asked to be called) demon was, Aemma easily became the best one at everything, if she wasn't so kind and gentle, she could almost be a replacement for Amarantha (half-failed attempt this female was).

Even if she is ready for battle in camp, we know exactly who we are going to find on the battlefield. All of the remaining Archerons will definitely be there, fighting for Night Court. We don't want to risk her getting all emotional during the war when one of her sisters recognizes her (which they definitely will; she and that Elain girl look exactly the same, even if we prayed day and night for them to be different).

It was an amazing idea to bring the other two Archeron sisters and make them a demonstration. The original plan was to throw whatever remaining girl we had in the cells, but once that dumb priestess told us about the Archerons, we knew what we had to do, especially with our girl's twin sister. We had to see if they were identical or if we could be a little bit lucky and both of them wouldn't have any resemblance, which unfortunately didn't happen.

After the war, we are going to release our powerful lovely experiment over Prythian and see them burning in her hellfire. If Maester Cassius is right and Aemma also has a power of her own, we might have to explore that after all. But just when we come back. Then, and only then, we shall be happy.

 

Maester Orwin,

From "The personal perspective

of the Hybern people over

their biggest weapon, Aemma Archeron"