#mage lover

[fiberpunk027]

oh noooooo

I have made science. Anyone who can relate?

[specshroom]

*°~There are many benefits to being a mage~°*

Includes: Fem reader x male orc, size kink, "human fetish", friends to more?

In which: Orc with a big problem confides in his mage friend who decides to help him out with a useful spell~🪄

You've been in this town for quite a while now, almost 3 years. That wasn't the original plan but It just so happened that this seaside town was more welcoming than many places you've been to on your travels. It sits at the coast of two major trade routes, connecting people of many different walks of life.

The friendliness and diversity you experienced allowed you to make a few friends you might not have otherwise.

Like the one you're sharing breakfast with right now. His name is Grimmok and he's the self-proclaimed, "Best fisherman in this damn town". He's your typical young, burley orc.

The first time you met him was in the local pub, you were intrigued when a crowd formed infront of the huge orc. He was dramatically telling one of his fisherman's tales and the small crowd hung onto his every word. He was a very good story teller and you happened to be very interested in folklore and myths. You made a habit of just walking up to him, if he didn't look busy and asking him to tell you a story. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see you sitting on the docks listening and writing intently as he waxes on about some old wives tale while repairing his nets.

Now you sit in his home, eating breakfast while he grumbles on about having to train a new fishing boy.

"The boy gets distracted by the smallest things, every time someone even resembling female walks past the docks he's panting like a dog." Grimmok bites into his ridiculously large breakfast sandwich signaling the end of his rant.

He did look more grumpy than usual when he opened the door to let you in for your weekly Sunday breakfast. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a hasty half up half down bun and his stubble looked more scruffy than usual. You can only huff in amusement at his troubles.

"Cmon, don't be too harsh on the kid. You did the same thing with Rosie Cotton, remember?"

The orc stills and huffs indignantly, scratching at his neck. This makes you grin.

"Mhm, you'd be telling me a story and then just stop in the middle of a sentence. I'd look up and sure enough there's Miss Rosie walking on by. Fiery hair flowing in the wind, cleavage spilling out her dress, swaying those hips and-"

Grimmok interrupts your overdramatic musing by flicking your pointy hat off your head.

"Hey!"

"You're acting like you didn't like looking at her too." The big guy grumbles almost like a child. He wipes his hands on his plaid pajama pants and picks up his empty plate, heading towards the sink.

You lean down to pick your hat off the floor, dust it off and mumble,

"Yeah, but I never got to bed her."

The dishes in the sink clatter a little too loudly as he tenses up. You hardly try to stifle your laugh.

"We didn't actually...she was...too small... For me to...." The orc struggles out as he wipes his plate clean.

It's quiet for a minute until you ask.

"But she did try, right? I'm pretty sure that counts, Grim."

The orc just grumbles something unintelligible. You want to sympathise with the poor guy but imagining Rosie Cotton, a "short stack" type of woman, trying to fit his massive green cock in her little pussy was pretty erotic.

"I want to feel bad for you mate but you kind of bring this on yourself. You obviously have a bit of a human fetish."

"It's not a-" The orc goes to defend himself but stops and just sighs when he realises it's no use.

"...and a size kink to boot." You mumble with toast in your mouth.

"I can't help it if I think horny humans trying desperately to take my cock is literally the hottest thing to me!" Grimmok finally lets the dam of sexual frustration burst after you've done a sufficient amount of poking at it. You always were good at getting him to actually talk about his problems.

"But the problem comes in when I actually have to fuck them, they can barely take half! How am I supposed to fuck them!? I'm too big! I'd kill them!"

You can't help but choke on your toast as a cackle forces itself from your throat. "Sorry. I'm sorry!" You struggle between snorts. Your big green friend just stands there with a grimace, arms crossed as he waits for you to finish.

You sigh and wipe your watering eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've confided in me because now I can help you." You wipe your hands clean and stand up from the orc sized table.

"You know that cool thing I can do with my hat?" You take your hat off and reach inside of it, the magic pocket space allowing you to reach your whole arm inside of it when you physically shouldn't be able to.

He nods sceptically still leaning against the sink, a bit concerned about where this is going. He thought by "help" you meant like you were going to pep talk him or something.

"We just have to do this but with...." You gesture down to your crotch.

Grim stands there, mouth slightly agape, blinking at you.

"I mean it's not exactly the same obviously." You pull your trusty spell book out of the hat before placing it back on your head while the pages of the spell book fly open to the page you want. "You basically draw this sigil on someone and then they'll be able to take whatever they can push inside no matter how big. Girth might still be an issue though..."

You explain this to him like you've explained many other spells, like you're reading him a recipe, deliberating what ingredients would work best. He doesn't even know how to react honestly.

"You're serious?"

You clap the book shut and adjust your hat on your head, smugly shrugging,

"This is what I do."

The poor guy just stumbles in disbelief.

"Magic, I mean.... Magic is what I do." You correct yourself a bit awkwardly and clear your throat, regaining your confidence.

"It's a pretty easy spell so we can try this whenever you want really."

"We?"

"Alright! Alright."

"Well yeah, unless you want me to go up to Rosie Cotton and say "Hey love, you mind if I put this sigil on your womb so my friend can finally pound your tight little-"

Grimmok rubs his face with his hands, sighing again and looking unsure. You lean against the sink next to him, barely coming up to his pecs.

"Look, it'll just be a one time thing so you can actually see if human pussy's all that and if you like it, I'm sure we can find plenty of humans who would love to try it out."

"...Alright. That sounds good."

You give a slap to his thick bicep and an encouraging "ata boy."

"and if you don't like this one, I'm sure I could find a spell that'll just make you..." He doesn't miss how you glance down at his crotch. "Smaller."

He huffs and pushes your shoulder playfully, he liked how you could always joke away the tension in any given situation. You walk up to the big wooden chair you were sitting at a second ago and pull it away from the table so that it's facing outward, struggling a bit as it's very much orc sized like most things in his house.

"Cmon. Sit."

You pat the chair, looking at him expectantly.

"Now?"

He's really not used to other people being so forward especially not when it's his mate. You shrug at him.

"Why not? I mean we can wait till you're ready, I don't mind. I have literally all day."

You put your hands behind your back and rock on your feet as you both just stand in his kitchen for about a minute...waiting. He eventually huffs and steels himself, fully committing to the idea and walking over to plop himself in the chair. He's going to put his dick inside one of his best mates.

You place your hat on the table so it doesn't get in the way of your activity and step in front of him. You levitate your spell book In front of you, looking down at the page with the sigil that's way more familiar than you're letting on.

"Okay, I'll face this way so it's less....personal." You turn around so your back is facing him. "You do still need to take off your pants though."

He smacks his teeth, "I figured that." He mumbles, pushing his soft pajama pants down to his mid thighs, immediately freeing his cock as he wasn't wearing underwear. He leaves his white long sleeve on, the sleeves folded to his elbows, giving you a perfect tease of his thick strong arms and multiple tattoos. When he looks back at you and sees that you've already disappeared your pants, he quickly looks away.

Sensing his nervousness you ask with a softer voice than before,

"can I sit?"

He clears his throat before grumbling a "Yeah."

You gently lean down and sit your naked ass onto his lap, legs open wide over his own you can see his half hard cock laying between his legs but try not to stare. Obviously Grimmock is a big guy but he's even big by orc standards so of course his cock is massive even when he isn't fully hard.

Grimmock clears his throat and jolts you out of your thoughts. You adjust a bit on top of him feeling his happy trail against your lower back. Your eyes skim the page levitating in front of you, when you finally find the incantation passage you straighten up and start chanting the ancient words in the text. Your eyes glow and the air feels static, Grim has seen magic before but the novelty never truly wears off.

An intricate shape starts to form right above your pubic bone, where your womb would be. The sigil glows brightly on your skin as Grim peers from above your head to look at it. At first glance he thinks it looks a bit demonic but then remembers he doesn't know anything about magic and decides not to mention it. When the sigil is complete you clap the book shut, immediately cutting off the static energy in the room and startling him in the process.

"That should do it."

You place the book on the table and lean back against his clothed chest, feeling the tension in his body not letting up.

"Damn, I can't believe little Miss Rosie took half of this. What a lass."

Your joke lightens the mood once again as Grimmock scoffs at you. Feeling him relax, you bring your hand down to finally touch the wetness that's been growing for awhile now. "We should still do some prep before you put it in. Is that alright?"

He nods and watches your hand disappear between your thighs. You readjust so that your boot clad feet are on either side of the chair rests. Opening yourself up to the air and to him, he can see you've already got two fingers pushing inside. He hesitates before reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke himself under you but it was painfully clear he was holding back.

"I know I'm not as short or.... endowed as Miss Cotton but I could put on a red wig if you'd like."

Grim huffed a laugh at the mental image of that.

"Oh wow~ Grimmie, you're soooo big and strong~"

You say in a high pitched voice (that doesn't sound anything like Rosie Cotton), using her embarrassing pet name while looking up at him and batting your eyelashes dramatically.

Grim scoffs and holds his hand over your mouth "Stop playing around." He tries to sound serious but his smile and the grumble in his chest betrays him. You laugh against his hand holding his wrist. You slowly pull his hand off your mouth and inch it gradually down your body giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn't and you move his hand to rub against your wet pussy ever so gently.

You're both looking into each other's eyes, this was not supposed to be so intimate but it doesn't look like he minds when he takes charge and slowly eases two fingers inside your aching pussy. His thick fingers stretch your pussy so good as you lightly buck into his hand, greedy pussy already hungry for more. The way he's looking down at you with so much need gets you so hot inside. A heat that only increases when he starts pumping his fingers in and out. Grim works you open with one hand and pumps his fat cock with the other.

This entire situation has you pent up and impatient so you pull his hand away and sit up, "I can take it now." He can't help but groan at your words but remains concerned at the perceived lack of prep. Whenever he fools around with humans most of the engagement is spent just doing prep so he's more than a little worried, "Are you sure?"

You don't reply as you gently take his fully hard cock from his hand, holding it up against your stomach to see how far inside you this thing could go. You both groan at the comparison between his ridiculously massive dick and your body, he reaches way past your belly button and into your stomach. Definitely more than a human could safely take. You adjust your legs so that you're almost squatting on his lap, your feet plant on the seat on either side of his hips.

You support yourself with your hand resting on the seat between his legs and lift yourself so you can rub your wetness along the length of his cock. He brings his rough hands to hold your hips gently, not applying pressure but just resting there so he can have something to hold.

You lift yourself up until his tip is in-line with your entrance, slowly rubbing it against your clit. You both groan lightly when the tip pops in and you slowly ease yourself down his cock. He's amazed at how easy your cunt swallows him. You pause half way down to adjust and give a few pumps to the rest of him before your hand leaves his cock to settle next to your other hand on the chair in front of you. He squeezes your hips a little in silent concern and you smile before easing the rest of him in, gently descending until you reach the hilt. Your pubes kiss his and he can't help but let out a weak moan at the sight and feeling of you taking all of him. Finally feeling tight walls grip the entire length of his cock has him reeling. You're overwhelmed as well, It's been a while since you've taken someone this big.

You slowly circle your hips around so that you really feel his cock against your walls deep inside you, you're obviously very pleased with yourself. Grim is seeing stars, eyes shut, head tilted back, trying to regain himself even a little while his literal dreams are coming true.

"Well, we know it works. I guess that's it then." You move to lift yourself off his cock as if your work is done.

"Nononono, Please no. Please."

Comes Grim's hasty but soft displeasure, both his thick arms circle around your waist to keep you in place as he leans against your back, head resting on your shoulder.

"What's the matter big guy?" You lean into his chest, stroke his arm and turn your head to look at him. He huffs, you know exactly what's the matter. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to look at you.

"I need you."

Your heart jumps in your chest.

"I need you to fuck me...please."

You look up at him, wide eyes, mouth agape as he looks back down at you. The moment is almost sweet until your mouth forms into an evil grin and you snicker softly, a dreadfully familiar mischievous glint in your eyes. Grim closes his eyes and almost regrets all the choices that lead him here.

"Riiight~. I almost forgot, this is probably the first time you've actually been able to fuck someone sooo much smaller than you."

"Poor guy, you must be so pent up, huh?"

You reach down to gently hold his massive ballsack, making him suck in a breath and twitch his thighs.

All he can do is let out a choked moan of your name which only makes you chuckle.

"I can really play the part for you, if you'd like. Y'know the, "Ah, your so deep!" and "You're filling this human pussy up so good!""

You laugh when you feel his dick twitch. Poor Grim can only grip your waist and try to keep his hot face from getting hotter. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and you decide you're not so evil after all. You pat his arms and move them so he's holding your waist. He startles a little when you playfully kiss him on the cheek.

"I've got you big guy."

You lean forward again with your feet under you and start to lift yourself up very slowly until the top of his cock is juuust about to pop out. Your thighs burn as you stay there for a few seconds, teasing Grim and yourself. Grim thinks he might actually cry if you don't move.

Suddenly you grip the edge of the chair and force yourself down hard on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust. You both groan very loudly, he downright yelps with the sudden movement. You grip the chair and clench around him so hard he can't help the way he grips your waist tightly. One hand covers his mouth as he tips his head back and tries to not cum immediately. He tries to regain his breathing but you have other plans. You can feel him twitch inside you and a desperate need to be filled engulfs you.

You start thrusting up and down on his dick, moving your whole body up and down his length. It's a good thing he can't see your face because you are enjoying this way too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite your lip, the sensation of being filled to the literal brim is intoxicating. You work yourself and him so diligently, it's no time before your thrusts become more frantic and you're right at the peak. With one final deliberate thrust you cum hard around him, clenching and unclenching like you're trying to milk him dry.

You both moan freely now, though his are more like growls. Your pulsing walls quickly lead him to his own climax, holding you close to his chest and thrusting up into your cunt, spilling hot seed deep inside your womb. You shake and squirm even more with the blissful feeling of your walls being coated with his spend.

After a few moments of you two spasming and twitching you eventually ease up and fall limply against his chest, adjusting your thighs to rest on top of his again. You breathe out a long sigh and bask in the fullness of your cunt, stroking your stomach up and down.

You're blissfully unaware of the knowing smirk that grows on his face. He cards his fingers through his hair, composing himself a little more. His warm hand joins yours in caressing up and down the expanse of your stomach and chest, loving how small you feel in his hold.

"You've done this before." His voice comes out in a low growl that makes you shiver, not expecting it. You crane your head up to see him smirking down at you and all you can do is sit and stare. He chuckles deeply,

"There ain't no way, this is your first time taking a cock this size."

You stumble for words but none come out. His hands caress your thighs and one hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. He leans down really close to your face.

"You're a size queen."

You suck in a breath and your pussy clenches involuntarily around his cock which you only noticed now hasn't gone down at all. Grim laughs louder this time.

"I should've known the second you pulled out that spellbook."

You sit there, quite embarrassed at being caught. You smack his hand away from your waist.

"Shut up, you're the one with the-"

"Yes, we both know about my kinks, you teased me about it enough which is very hypocritical of you."

Grim is just loving the way you fluster and fumble for words right now.

"Oh, so you don't have a thing for inhumanly huge cock?"

He challenges and uses both his hands to bring your naked thighs to your chest, exposing your pussy, leaking with his seed.

"So you don't like the way I stretch and fill this little human pussy?"

You can't help but whine at his dirty words and the position he's binding you into. His cock adjusting inside of you, hitting a new spot.

"If you don't, I guess I could just pull out and-"

"Nonononono... Grim Cmon."

You frantically babble your disagreement, shaking your head. He chuckles again, very pleased with himself at turning the tables on you but thankfully for you he's not as evil as you are and his dick is still painfully hard.

"Alright Darlin, I'll take care of you."

He lifts himself from the chair, leaving a puddle of both of you when he stands. He comforts your whines when he pulls out to set you ass up on the table and just stands at the edge, one hand on his hip and the other leisurely stroking his cock.

You look back at him with confusion, expecting him to just fuck you over the table already.

"If you ask nicely."

He says looking real smug, you sigh in defeat and turn your body so that you're facing him. You disappear the rest of your clothes, leaving you stark naked on the large kitchen table you were just eating breakfast at. That realisation makes him pump his cock harder.

You press your knees as close to your chest as possible and bring your hands down to your puffy, leaking pussy. You spread your folds for him with your fingers and say, as sexily as you can manage.

"Please fuck me Grim."

Grim is so fucking floored, he's cursing himself for not thinking of doing this sooner. He sighs and pumps his cock harder, lining the leaking tip up to your pussy lips. He eases it inside and the new position makes for a new sensation for both of you as different spots are brushed and tension melts away. Once he's balls deep again he gently worms his arm underneath your back to lift you up with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck for support being mindful not to pull his hair. Suddenly you're face to face, looking into his eyes for the first time since you started.

You look into his dark eyes and they relax you, this is your best friend, you trust him. His eyes leave yours to stare at your parted lips. When he sees that familiar quirk on your lips he looks back to your eyes, catching the mischievous glint. You lean closer so that your noses are just brushing against eachother. You feel his breath hitch when your lips meet his. He spares no time getting into it and moves his lips against yours. You make out while he adjusts your body in his hold, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist.

He then, without warning, lifts you up and brings you down hard thrusting the whole length of his cock into you in one hearty thrust. You break from the sloppy kiss for a moment to groan out in absolute ecstasy, loving the way he takes the lead from you effortlessly. He brings down your whole body to meet his upwards thrusts. The way he's basically using your entire body like a fleshlight makes you embarrassingly horny.

It feels like it's been years since you were fucked like this, the way your body is reacting, so sensitive you're sure you could cum again any minute. This is exasperated greatly when he brings you closer to his chest with one arm locked around you so that he can worm his other hand in-between you two and rub at your engorged clit.

You grab at his wrist as he frantically works you to your climax, you basically scream when you finally reach that high. Clenching and shaking on his cock while he holds you up with his buff arms. You cling into him so tightly, getting drool on his shirt. You even squirt a little, getting your wetness all over his cock and the floor. Your intense climax once again has him reeling. The sight of you clinging onto him, squirting and losing yourself on his cock makes his balls clench painfully as his frantic thrusts turn faster and sloppier. He reaches his climax as he holds you close, groaning into your neck, pumping another thick load deep into you.

You both stay like that for a while, coming down from your respective highs. Your fingers slowly unclench from his shirt moving down to lazily caress his chest, feeling it move with his breaths as you rest your head on his shoulder.

He slowly manoeuvres your legs so he can sit back down on the chair, holding you to his chest. His hand strokes down your back as you both soak in the warm, tranquil after glow. His breathing evens out to a steady rhythm and your eyes flutter closed.

Knock knock knock

You both jolt awake and stare at each other wide eyed and then at the front door, which is very much visible from the kitchen. You both stay quiet and he holds you closer to hide your fully naked body if the rude intruder somehow manages to break the door down.

Knock knock knock

"Uhh Mr Grimmock Sir?"

The tension in Grim's body sags when he hears who's on the other side of the door. A hand goes to massage his impending migraine.

"BOY! What do you want?!"

You can imagine the way the poor fishing boy cringes at the anger in Grim's voice.

"Sorry Sir, I was wondering if you could give me some extra lessons on the boat?"

Grim growls in frustration, you chuckle in amusement and start kissing up his neck which settles him down a little.

"Tomorrow lad, it's Sunday."

"But I was-"

"Tomorrow."

The finality in his tone seems to get through to the young man as he mutters an "Alright Sir, see you then." Before walking off, his steps getting lighter and lighter.

"He doesn't want to work all week but suddenly he wants to work on Sunday?!"

Grim's irritation is clear as he gestures to the door incredulously. You can't help but laugh at the orcs misfortune. You settle your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as his hand begins to stroke down your back again.

"Thank you for...helping out"

He says, quite genuinely.

"Anytime."

You throw him a thumbs up and he has to laugh and shake his head at the award winning nonchalance. When the amusement fades though he leans forward in the chair and brings his hands lower to cup your ass cheeks.

"Anytime?"

You can feel his soft cock gradually hardening inside your pussy and you look up at him in utter disbelief.

"Unbelievable."

You shake your head and chastise him but the smile that breaks on your face rats you put. He grins and lifts you up, walking out of the kitchen. His mouth marks up your neck and his stubble tickles, dull tusks dig into the sensitive skin.

"Just unbelievable."

You mutter to yourself again as your legs hug around his waist tighter and you feel his cum dripping out of your hole, leaving a trail all the way to his bedroom.

[askfordoodles]

That one Emmrich banter with Neve about how someone in Minrathous sold him fake talismans and he's just incredulous that someone would even think to do that :0 😅

He really was pulling full 'do you really think someone would just go on the internet and tell lies???!' meme energy, like oh my sweet summer child, who always assumes the best in people...

Neve be like, 'oh yeah that guy lol, I know him'

and Emmrich is in full 'why are there no regulations for this? I thought mages were respected in Tevinter???' >:0

Neve just countering with the ole "why do you think I'm always so busy" xD

[whereserpentswalk]

Wizards are ordered from oldest to youngest. All wizards are nonbinary.

[fumifooms]

"Marchil? I guess I can see it on Chilchuck’s end, but what about Marcille’s? What makes you think she could develop feelings for him?" I’m glad you asked!

The first thing to note is that she does think highly of him

In the page on the right, literally defending his virtues and literally comparing him to Dalclan. And oh…

She does love a brooding mysterious guy who closes himself to love. But surely, Chilchuck isn’t her type at all, right? He’s not princely or knightly at all. In apperances certainly not, both looks wise and demeanor wise, but then that’s why she seeks to know him on a deeper level, to not only look shallowly.

And hmm. Chilchuck really is quite selfless isn’t he? Always looking out for others, and saving specifically her often, always making sure himself and, staying in or even running towards danger for her sometimes. Modesty is often considered heroic…

And can we talk about that drowning one… You can definitely frame the special attention as him knowing she tends to hesitate or be clumsy, and then his insistance on pulling her out of danger that she’s the healer aka the most important to keep alive, but. From the one who says that he just keeps his ass out of fights and won’t help this is a lot of risk to take, and he does die trying to pull her to safety in the dungeon rabbits chapter. And the drowning bit??? That’s when the dungeon collapses. The only reason they DON’T die of drowning here is that the water then gives way to outside. There was NO hope of pulling her to safety here and resurrections would likely not work either, he truly preferred to die with her than try to survive himself.

Sit your ass back DOWN you are in no state, self-sacrifical hero much damn

And Marcille definitely noticed this imo, after all she loves learning all she can about him, remembering things like how he hates waiting on people too. She pays attention to him and what he does and what he says. This to say that it’s notable, whatever reason for it you may think (though we know by this point at least she was already aware he was an adult though it wasn’t internalized), out of everyone it’s Chilchuck’s bed that she wants to sleep in during the Golden Kingdom stay. He’s safe and comforting to her: dependable, the defining trait in her view of him as is shown by the relationship chart in the Adventurer’s Bible.

^ Lending handkerchiefs is a romance trope btw and handkerchiefs have irl history of being used for courting. Especially in old English literature and plays like Shakespeare’s Othello, and personally I do see a lot of Shakespeare in Dalclan (nobility political drama with some romance). There’s how his cowl is a dearly beloved souvenir from his family too, there’s a lot of aesthetic tropes you can apply to him.

All this to say you can 100% romanticize Chilchuck into a princely noble guy if you try and that’s exactly what Marcille does with the wife roleplay. She doesn’t need much in the first place, she latches onto crumbs and makes aesthetic narratives out of details, give her an inch she’ll take a mile.

But what’s interesting about the shift throughout the arc of her and his relationship is that she starts out idealizing him into a little angel of a kid (shapeshifter), and she ends it idealizing him as a virtuous husband and family man instead.

And what’s doubly interesting is that in the former, she’s actively warping who he is personality and demeanor wise to fit the aesthetic, he doesn’t have that bitter pride of not asking for help and the edges have been smoothened. But what she does during the wife roleplay is something else, she acknowledges the flaws and just… Accepts them, rolls with them. She’s aware of his flaws and implements them into the narrative, but the reason why his wife left doesn’t capitalize on them even, rather Chil is chilblivious and his wife loves him very much still, she’s just testing him after having had a night of feeling out of place at his side.

And this is what separates the idealization vs romanticization, she’s not twisting him into someone else she’s just uplifting what he is and focusing on the good sides.

Marcille: "he has a shitty personality sometimes but if he was my husband I’d still cherish him" "If I were your wife I’d be overjoyed to go out with you and would get myself prettied up while you complain about me taking a long time, your friends would tell me that I’m nice and that’d make me happy, but I’d also be sad because you wouldn’t tell me that you love me enough"

He’s angry and his wife left him, he’s *flawed*, but he’s still worth hyping up, still worth having his own romance story, still has a shot of winning back his beloved. She sees him for what he is, human and real and not a carefully scripted character that fits an aesthetic, and she thinks it’s still worthy of love and admiration and fighting for

And what’s funny too is that you might expect her to cool down on him once she learns more about him but actually she only gets increasingly into his business. You tell her your age and next thing you know you promise to introduce her to your family. Give her an inch she takes a mile. And too the thing is, Senshi is equally mysterious but she doesn’t pester him like at all, asks him ONCE about his succubus and he doesn’t even answer and that’s like… It. With Chilchuck it starts off innocently enough with her wanting to know his age, hometown, the stuff she mentions having asked pre-canon. But it just keeps and keeps going and escalating. Think she’ll be satisfied now knowing you have a wife and kids, maybe she’s disillusioned now? Wrong! She wants to know their names and ages and occupations and hey how did you propose to your wife? Do you think she’ll stop after meeting them? What’s next? What will she want to know next????

She’s… Like it’s not a reach that Marcille is all over him. Like it doesn’t mean it’s romantic but she just is. She is not normal about him idk. Can you not ask him about what tongue technique he used when first kissing his wife, give the man breathing room

Marcille could literally go "if I was Chilchuck’s wife" having deeply pondered and thought out the hypothetical and people would still ask where anyone sees any romantic potential between them. Oh wait

There’s a platonic explanation for everything (almost?) in Dungeon Meshi don’t say I’m saying otherwise, but it’s definitely not like there’s nothing here to read into lol

Going off a bit more under read bc it’s my fave topic

Marcille has a whole theme with the charming prince trope with her idealization and storybook motif and Chil is kinda the "Well someone perfect like that isn’t very realistic and romance is usually more complex and that’s ok and good and flawed people can still be ✨virtuous✨" catalyst

Do you see do you see she starts canon thinking the most romantic thing is a prince charming but her arc in the end has her romanticizing an average, flawed, real and realistic family man, who’s on the poorer side and is on the verge of divorce. And that’s what he needed, too, seeing the positive of himself and the situation instead of focusing on the negative is explicitly what inspires him to hope that he might be able to reconcile with his wife, gives him the courage and self-esteem to shoot his shot.

He IS a prince figure instead that now it’s not about idealizing the grand and overt it’s about romanticizing the small things in real life!! About finding joy and beauty in things that seem normal or mundane and uplifting them to make the world feel kinder!!!!

He’s the devoted virtuous man that she wantsss not the storybook prince that’s unrealistic and could crumble like a script at any time. He’s the perfect example of a flawed realistic but virtuous & devoted & loving man. Far from a prince charming, but not fully detached from it either. Something worth fighting for despite the flawed cracks. Like literally, flawed romance being worth fighting for is literally the finale of Chilchuck and Marcille’s arc on the matter, where their separate arcs and issues intersect at the most crucial moment.

Marcille is important to Chil’s arc not only because of her optimism, but also because of her interest and knowledge in romance & matters of the heart, and that’s what he needs to both open his heart up to hope and to try to reconcile with his wife, like idk sounds gay

Their arc together is literally learning to 1) see each other for how they are and not undermining their qualities capacities etc etc while still not leaving flaws unchecked either and 2) opening up to people. Marcille LITERALLY makes Chil open his heart up to hope like idk man. What do you want from me. He’s literally the guy helping her through deconstructing novels and fantasy and rose tinted glasses and like. Deconstructing the prince charming figure into something more real but still romantically beautiful like KUI KUI STOOOOP STOP I’M ALREADY HOOKED I’M ALREADY-

 Ok fine that’s me reading into the tropes too much forgive me for being storybook brained but like. Speaking his heart out to a lone woman on a balcony, Romeo and Juliette shit, asking if she, too, doesn’t want to meet his family, madly blushing. And like she’s learned with Chilchuck it’s all in the little things, all the implications he cannot speak aloud. She does reciprocate, does blush madly back, and the first thing she does is shower him in flowers and jewelry and what in her heart is coded as romantic gifts

A lady, stashed away in a high tower by her lonesome, waiting for someone to call out to her from below… Romeo courting type shit with an offer, a heartfelt spiel, implicit confession from underneath her balcony. Offering him flowers because he succeeded in calling out to her heart…….. And they have to climb to her too…. Crazy

Doesn’t it sound like a proposal. One that’s both so storybook-like and not, contrastedly real and grounded, all about the implications rather than in your face grand gestures, "Don’t you want to meet my family?". They literally have an arc about the topic of romance and this is the climax/pinnacle of it like god?? This is @ the woman who said "Chilchuck is a shy/bashful man so I know he wouldn’t tell me he loves me, but…" btw

To quote a friend, truly the shiny secret unlockable dating sim capture target : THE DUNGEON LORD BIT WAS SO FUNNY BECAUSE HE KNEW SHE'D TAKE IT HOOK LINE AND SINKER HES THE ONE WHO GOT HER TO TURN AROUND COMPLETELY SHES LIKE. WIDE EYED FLAG RAISED???? FLAG RAISED WITH CHILCHUCK 👀👀👀‼️👀👀‼️👀

And the way that this is the culmination of their arc together… Like people are not ready for the ‘Chil calling out to dunlord Marcille on the balcony has Romeo and Juliette romance novels imagery’ take. Or the ‘their arc is about growing to see beauty even in the non-idealized, in the flawed and in the real’ take which makes it so so perfect if she were to lower her ideal from a charming elven prince to a virtuous halfling man (which she does end up romanticizing)

So there, you got to witness in real time what happens when I think about marchil for longer than 2 minutes, there are so many layers it’s a deranged rabbithole. I saw the necronomicon of subtext and it’s driving me to madness with forbidden knowledge that no one else sees

……. Like what if I told you she implicitly picked Chilchuck over a "unrealistic prince charming who’s actually disingenuous" much earlier in the story already. If she was given the choice to think through going with a guy that seems perfect and chivalrous like her succubus she’d pick Chilchuck over the other actually. If I sound insane rn tune in for my full analysis on them coming this month hopefully thank youu. Interwoven arcs of fantasy vs reality and idealization vs pessimism I love youuu

So now you know the general thesis of my planned analysis about the importance of the prince charming figure in Marcille and Chilchuck’s arc, where she romanticizes things to a sometimes worrying degree or idealize people into something easy and digestible and poetic (like Chil being a kid, and then him being a virtuous ✨✨✨husband), and how she needs to value aesthetics less and actual acts and facts more, be more grounded (like seeing people for what they are flaws and all, and accepting that people need money and not pulling through on principles of honor or unity shouldn’t get Namari shamed) and a part of that is accepting that Chilchuck is BOTH flawed and virtuous, a loving husband that still has shitty moods and fumbled his marriage so bad etc etc. So it’s like, her image of perfect prince charming that will whisk you away on an ethereal romance -> realistic flawed middle aged dad with personality issues and a failing marriage but he still is worthy of love and having his cute grand romance story and his happy ending. Ik I keep repeating the same point through this but I need it to be burned into everyone’s brains it has its grip on me I can’t do this. They are so special……

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 27

Geralt is fighting a mage who takes his memory of the last 30 or so years and plops it in a jar before fucking off. Geralt is confused, but even moreso when he returns camp and some guy in obnoxious clothing is waiting for him. The man gasps at Geralt's appearance - No big deal, humans always do - Before rushing over to him and pouncing to attack. Geralt does the smart thing and flings the human away. The human slides in the dirt a bit and looks up at him with hurt in his expression, which is... odd. Roach also seems a bit peeved. Maybe because there's a strange man in their camp? "Geralt, what's gotten into you? That- That was rather rude. You could've just said you didn't want me to hug you today." "Today?" "Yes, Geralt! I hug you after every hunt gone well! Every day! What are you, a doppler?" "Are you?" "Hah hah, very funny Geralt, I'm laughing, truly, I am." "...How do you know my name?" And suddenly the human looks very worried. "Oh fuck- Did you hit your head or something!? Do you have a concussion? Can witchers even get concussions!?" The bright man screeches, reaching for him again. Geralt very awkwardly flails his arm up to swat his hand away with a harsh "Don't touch me." and the man glares at him, before slowly just looking... sad. Deep down, Geralt dislikes seeing this man look upset. It causes this odd ache deep to his core. Geralt begins interrogating this man about why and how he knows him, and the man keeps talking to Geralt as if he's some poor wet puppy in a box. Eventually Geralt tells him to leave the camp and not follow him. The man doesn't listen. Geralt is getting really fed up with him, until the man tells him he'll leave Geralt if he takes him to some woman named "Yennefer" because "She'll hopefully know how to help." This in turn becomes Yennefer saying Geralt's lost all his memories of Jaskier, Jaskier sobbing into Yennefer's shoulder as she awkwardly comforts her weird gay friends, and then her sending Jaskier and Geralt (and or also coming along) to track down the mage and get the jar of memories back, even though the entire time Geralt is adamant about Jaskier not coming, fearful for the human who seems to care so much about him for some reason. Either he can't trust this "Jaskier", or even worse, this Jaskier who seems too perfect to be true is real, and does indeed care for Geralt this much, and thus Geralt can't let ANYTHING bad happen to him.

[inspiredrawaw]

The Solar Eclipse’s Champion

[dashofmonsters]

Bonds of Blood & Delight- Prologue

Male Fae x F!Reader

"A bard? They'll let anyone in here these days," the gate guard scoffs as he tosses your order badge back at you.

The badge nearly slips out of your hand but you manage to grasp it and refasten it to your cloak. You hate when people call you a bard, even if they're not exactly wrong. You're a mage of the Order of Delight. Yes, a lot of entertainers have come from it but there are serious mages who take their skills beyond just illusions and spell crafted songs.

"I've taken the aptitude test like everyone else and sent in my qualifying spells. I've been accepted because I meet the standards," you frown at the guard as he checks your name.

"Whatever makes you feel better. You'll take a left once the gate opens and go towards the west tower where all the first years go," He sniffles and opens the gate.

You collect yourself and walk forward, trying not to feel too ruffled by the bard comment any longer. You've made it this far on your own with your own brand of spells. You're the first mage in your order to invent new spells in over two hundred years as well as the first to get accepted into the High Tower of magic research and development.

Here you'll be able to make a difference, here you'll be able to learn real magic and create more spells for your order. That, and hopefully learn more about the alchemists that reside here.

You grind your teeth just thinking about them. Alchemy has earned high regards in the world of magical research as of late due to the metal refining and greedy nobles. But it's demanding and requires a lot of blood. Not just normal blood, but blood with mana. There are many black market back alley alchemists who've take to kidnapping anyone with magic in their blood. You're late twin brother perished at the hands of a noble's alchemist and you'd have been next if it wasn't for his newly hired mage. Hendrick was a mage of the Order of Delight hired to entertain but his real job was a search and rescue. Unfortunately, you were the only one left to rescue out of the dozens of orphans that were kidnapped, drained and killed.

If Hendrick hadn't saved you when he did, you'd have followed your brother into an early grave. You recall how he took you in, practically adopted you and taught you everything he knew and then some. He was loud and boisterous with a stage presence that put many seasoned performers to shame. Nobody would ever guess that he was actually a mercenary.

It's funny to think that the least suspecting mage order has the most mercenaries and assassins than any other. Or maybe it makes perfect sense, no one would suspect the killing blow to come from the pretty man playing the flute.

The Order of Delight's underground sect known as The Dirge. It's small with only thirty members and you've been tasked with infiltrating the High Tower. You've spent the last five years crafting new spells that would allow me to qualify to study here, I created a persona that would be unassuming yet stereotypical. No one will know why you're here, least of all those fucking alchemists.

Feeling a bit more resolved you set your nerves aside. This mission is incredibly important in bringing down the alchemy rings and kidnappings once and for all and you'd be lying if you said that you weren't nerve wracked.

Biting your cheek you continue on to the West Tower and up the long winding staircase. The air is heavy with magic and a strange scent of salt water and incense. A guard stops you once you reach the halfway point and asks for your name and order badge. He doesn't give you any grief about what order you're from, in fact he seems to not really care about anything at all.

You decide to start making note of the guards first then since they seem pretty relaxed.

He points to a door to his left where all first years are sorted one by one in an interview given by the head of the West Tower. You've heard very little about this mage save for the fact that they tend to favor those from their own base order. A Daybreaker mage, probably the most logical and pragmatic of anyone here.

You enter the waiting room and see several young mages sitting around a fire rune. You instantly recognize one of them, a childhood friend of yours before you and your brother were kidnapped.

"By the light of the moon!" He stands up and holds out his arms as he rushes to you.

"Luan, it's good to see you," you hug him as he picks you up off the ground.

He swings you back and forth before setting you down, "I know you said in your last letter that you were coming to the capital soon but I never imagined that you meant you'd be coming here."

"And what about you? When were you going to tell me that you got accepted to High Tower?" you playfully shove him.

"It was meant to be a surprise for when you got here," He grins.

You laugh and shake your head, "I can't believe we'll both be studying here."

Luan nods and his sweet smile slowly fades, "Yes, well and then there's that."

You raise a brow and before you can ask him what he's talking about an elderly mage calls for him for his interview.

"That'd be me, we'll talk about it later," Luan smiles and waves you goodbye.

Though it was brief, seeing Luan has eased your nerves a great deal. You two became mages around the same time. You were both rescued by Hendrick however Luan had a knack for shadow and dark magic so he joined the newly reformed Order of Night. The both of you kept in close contact when you were separated and always sent each other gifts for birthdays and holidays.

He'll probably be the only one here who won't laugh at the fact that you're from the Order of Delight.

You roll your eyes and take his place in the circle around the fire rune. The other mages there eye you with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

"So...," one of them speaks up, a girl with a badge from the Order of Despair. "A bard? How the hell did you get accepted?"

Here we go, you sigh.

"I have a knack for illusion magic and spell song craft like most bards but I got tired of the old spells that didn't have much practical or everyday use so I invented new ones. The elders here heard about what I was doing and had me test in," you explain.

To be honest it's a half truth, the Order of Delight has a hidden book of spells that The Dirge has full access to. All the spells in it are unregistered so no one would be able to track them back to another mage. You were told to use three or four from the book for your qualifying spells but instead of taking credit you took inspiration. You invented thirty new spells but only sent in seven. Thirty would be too suspicious.

"Sounds like you should have tried for the Daybreak order, practicality is their specialty," another mage chimes in.

"I would have but my family wouldn't let me," you shrug. An easy excuse, most mage families like to stick to the same order.

"Ugh I get that," the girl from the Order of Despair groans. "My folks were the same way, I have light magic and know a few healing spells but no, I had to honor tradition learn mind speak and dream bending. Gods I hate traditionalist. My names Ruya by the way."

You introduce yourself and tell her your fabricated backstory, one that's a bit more cheerful and normal.

A couple other mages open up to you, both from the Order of Bones, Tarek and Ilta... Twins. They both wore the standard skull tattoos on their faces though it looked more menacing on Tarek. They both wanted to join the Order of Delight since they're strong in illusion magic but of course their clan refused them. You knew there was an issue with traditionalist but you had no idea that it was that bad.

"Tarek Falswith," the elderly mage calls to one of your new acquaintances.

He stands tall and stretches, his short black hair shining in the light of the fire rune making his skull tattoo all the more wicked. He glances down at you and smiles, "See ya later bard."

His sister laughs as he walks away, "Just ignore him, he's a stupid flirt. Got himself in trouble time and time again back at our Order."

"Noted," you laugh. "Not looking for love here anyways."

"Not the best place to find it honestly," Ruya adds.

"Our older sister is a third year here and oh the stories she could tell you," Ilta begins. You and Ruya listen to the tales of the twins' sister Asra and her encounters with the opposite sex.

And as she spins her tales, one by one the young male mages are called off to interview until there's only the three of you. Ruya gets called while Ilta is recounting the time her sister wore a deer skull for a month even while she slept and ate to freak out a few of her admirers.

"She sounds crazy," you laugh.

"Oh yes, most say she should have gone into the Order of Twilight with how chaotic she is. But alas-"

"Tradition," both of you say then laugh.

"Ilta Falswith," the elderly mage calls.

Ilta mimics her brother, adding in a wink and the both of you giggle.

"See ya later bard," Ilta mocks her brother again but her voice sounds just like his.

You can't help but to be amazed and amused all at once and laugh as she walks away.

And then it's just you, or so you though.

"Good evening Thaneswell," an elderly voice rumbles your last name.

From the center of the fire run circle a figure slowly appears. An elderly man seated on a simple wooden stool. He's wearing a worn greyish blue cloak with a silver badge from the Order of Daybreak. His eyes are a milky white and his boney fingers tap gently on his lap.

Realizing who he is, you quickly stand up and bow your head.

"None of that now, none of that," He waves a hand and the fire rune dissipates. Ever so slowly he stands up, circling his hand in the air until a staff appears and falls into his hand.

"There is no need to bow amongst kin," he smiles.

You thought it was odd that you and one of the highest mages of the Order of Daybreak shared the same last name, it had to be a coincidence right?

"I did my own digging, my late brother was your maternal grandfather. He was a mage of the same order you belong to, and the same sect as well," He straightens as he starts circling you.

Your nerves reignite and you feel your gut sink.

"The family Thaneswell is not traditional and has members across every order there is. You of course wouldn't know this as your mother passed before you and your late brother were of age. This was," He waves his hand to another door that slowly opens on its own.

"Then my acceptance?" you ask.

"By your own skill, I'm not apart of the qualifying department. I put young mages where they need to be. Skilled and bright mages come here all the time to break from tradition and free themselves from bonds of a family or order. You met three such mages today did you not?" He asks as he lights up the room with a flick of his wrist.

The small room is filled with light crystals and fairy bobbles that produce a soft warm glow. Nic knacks of all sorts both mundane and magical line the shelves and a fat horned cat stretches across the large oak desk.

"Have a seat wherever you can find one," he chuckles as he lowers himself into a puffy armchair.

You turn and look for a chair but you only see mounds of books, small side tables and a taxidermy deer. Small side table it is.

Grabbing a table you pull it up close to the side of the desk as the front is occupied by an old dire wolf laying on a large pillow.

"Now then, let's get down to business. First off within close quarters you may call me uncle, I'd prefer it since we're family. You are after all the only closest living relative I have now," He sighs.

"Wait but you said our family has members in every order," you recall.

"Yes and because of that most of us have become estranged. My brother and his kept close but as the years went by, they were picked off one by one. I only learned of your existence after Hendrick rescued you. I'm so sorry about your brother... had I known... Why your mother never said anything..." he pauses and you see the grief on his face.

"She kept us close to the forest border, in one of the dump villages," you tell him.

His wrinkled face crumples and cringes, "By the gods why would she do that?"

"Hendrick said that the likelihood of us getting kidnapped at a dump village would be slim since the sick and dying are rarely ever kidnapped," you shrug.

"I'm so sorry, there must be more to this... I just know it but at least you're as well as well as can be," He sighs. "Now then, you're a member of The Dirge sect. Very few high mages know of it and I'm only privy of your mission as I'm the one who hired a mage to carry it out. It must have been Hendrick who threw your name in for it."

You blink once, twice and your mouth gapes wide open, "You're the one who- Wait a moment, you know why I'm here then and-"

"The alchemist rings are more corrupt than you can imagine. Both registered and unregistered, back alley and black market. If things continue on as is our nation will have the largest human trafficking outbreak in history. The Western Empire is already calling on our king to put an end to it since citizens of the empire have gone missing in the past few years. They've been putting more and more pressure on his majesty by raising taxes on goods and banning travel between our countries," he taps the desk before slamming his hand down.

"And the laws he made banning unregistered alchemy have been nothing more than a joke, I know. The Dirge has brought down at least fifty rings in the last few years but there seems to be no end to them. What in gods name are they after?" you lean forward, hoping your uncle will have some sort of answer.

"The same foolish thing the registered alchemists are after, immortality. Or at the very least, the next best thing. Long and youthful life, like that of a fae," he waves his hand and a book flings off the shelf and flies right to you.

"The War of Iron and Blood, a history book?" you start to pry the book open but it flings itself to a page near the very end.

"The book leaves out the most important part until the end. A fae specializing in Blood magic was caught and arrested. He is immune to iron and is able to heal himself if he wishes. Since those days long long ago, he has been held here, has been studied, has been bled for research with no real end in sight. I can only imagine what little hope he has if any," the high mage looks up towards the door.

A soft knock rasps the old wooden door, "Mage Thaneswell, it's Dargan, you called for me?"

"Yes yes, come in," your uncle flicks his finger and the door opens.

A tall and lanky mage shuffles in and slowly removes his hood. His skull tattoo looks rather odd on his face with how sunken in his eyes are and how gaunt he is.

"As you'll need to be focusing on your upcoming graduation I've decided to pass off your job to this first year. As you know all fourth years are to hand off their jobs to the new students. I've already given her a history lesson, the rest is up to you Dargan. Oh and once you're done, you'll be allowed a three week respite to recover," the high mage looks to you and nods towards the other mage.

Dargan bows a few times to your uncle and thanks him over and over before he grasps your shoulders, "Of course, yes, I'll get them up to speed and have them trained before then end of the day! Leave everything to me Mage Thaneswell."

"Yes and oh, once you're done could you give my niece a tour of the grounds? I'd do it myself but these old bones don't move like they used to," he smiles.

The Bone mage looks at you and then at the high mage, "Niece? Oh uh yes, yes of course."

Your uncle smiles and waves you off, "I'll be calling you back for a visit soon but please come and see me of your own accord when you can."

Dargan shuffles you out of the office and the door closes behind the both of you. His wide eyes look down at you as he continues to rush you out of the waiting room and down the tower stairs.

"What a horrible thing to do," he shakes his head. "To his own flesh and blood."

"Wait what are you talking about?" you ask.

Dargan stops and grabs your wrist, "This way, not here."

He pulls you aside and leads you down a path that takes you to the North Tower. It hikes up the wall and into a breezeway. The Bone mage looks around and when he's sure no one is in sight he has the two of you sit on the stone cold floor.

"Tell me truly, is High Mage Thaneswell really your uncle?" he asks.

"Great uncle but I fear we're missing the point here so-"

"You're from The Dirge then?" Dargan asks.

Your eyes widen and you grit your teeth but nod.

Dargan lifts his sleeve and reveals a scythe, "The Order of Bones has a similar sect."

"Reapers, I've heard of them," you nod.

"Mage Thaneswell has been hiring from all mercenary sects to take care of the alchemist rings. Myself and four others have been slowly cleaning up the High Tower these last few years, it hasn't been easy." Dargan stars and lays his head against the wall. "I suppose I should begin with what will be expected of you."

The Bone mage details your upcoming job and schedule, the grim nature of it all unsettling you the more he speaks. You're to become the jailor to the captured blood fae. You are to feed him, check his vitals, and collect his blood. You are not to speak to him, not to listen to him if he utters a single word, and you are not allowed to let him bleed unless collecting his blood.

Fear coils in your belly as Dargan tells you all the horrid things the fae could do if he was allowed to bleed out. Slice you up with his blood, set his cell on fire, undo the runes cast upon his chains or turn his blood into weapons and massacre the entire Tower. High Mage Thaneswell doesn't want that, he just wants him to take down the alchemists.

"Your uncle believes if we can find a way to free him that he'll be in our debt and will by the laws of the fae carry out the bounty against the alchemists," Dargan sighs. "Quite the pipe dream huh?"

"Very much so, but fae are keener on magic and can track down different users way better than mage hounds. Plus, he'll have a personal vendetta against them so he might be all for it," you agree and lay your head back as well.

"Still kinda fucked up that he's making his niece take on this job though," Dargan puffs. "But he must have his reasons."

"It's probably because I'll work closely with the Tower's alchemist ring. The more eyes on them the better," you note.

"True, but I rarely spoke with them and even if I showed any interest they kept me mostly in the dark. Get the blood, hand over the blood, and leave. That was the preferred sequence of things," he shrugs.

"Well, fuck..." you groan as you sag against the wall.

Dargan laughs and fishes something out of his pocket, "Here, it's a pass to the Tower. You'll need this to get in, get to the third level and to the cell."

You take the pass and grimace as the blood red runes carved into the small black iron tablet. You could feel the magic resonating off of it, feel it draining a tiny bit of your life essence. You quickly wrap it in your cloak.

"Disgusting, isn't it? They say the pass doubles to strengthen the runes on the Blood Fae's cell. I've tried my best not to over handle it but sometime the alchemists will examine the pass and if there's not enough life in it, they'll make you hold it all day. This job is super fucked up," Dargan snarls and slowly stands then offers his hand.

"Thanks for the heads up I guess," you allow him to help you up then stretch. "Anything else that I should be worried about?"

Dargan shrugs, "Not really, well that's a lie. I'd worry about you dorm placement. Mage Thaneswell pulled some strings and had me bunking with other mercs but I'm not sure how many he's hired this time around."

You nod knowing that it costs a lot to keep up this kind mission. You don't know if he's being funded by the King or if this is his own personal project but hiring you alone costs over three thousand gold.

"I'll introduce you to the alchemists and show you where the cell is real quick before I show you the grounds. Since it's hardly midday we have some time before your sorting," he beckons you to follow and leads you back out of the breezeway.

He takes you back down the wall path and towards the Central Tower, a massive and ancient mage tower built over a thousand years ago before the great culling of the Order of Night.

You feel the magic rolling off in droves with every step you take. The different auras confusing your senses and causing your gut to roil. Dargan places a supporting hand on your shoulder and holds up a hand before chanting a spell that shields the both of you from the onslaught of magic.

"Overwhelming isn't it? Someone here will cast a longer lasting shield on you once you start working. Try not to throw up on the stairs if you feel the shield fading, not only will they make you clean it up but they'll have you manually clean to toilets too," Dargan cringes.

"Sounds like you've been through a lot of hell here," you grimace.

"Hell would be nice in comparison. There's no graces here, no mercy nor kindness to be found. The Central Tower is where mages are truly tested, young and old. Are you certain you can handle this?" Dargan takes a step back and looks at you.

There's real concern on his face, something you feel like you haven't seen in ages. His dull dark red eyes search your face for hesitance and close once he realizes that there's none.

"I have my own reasons for being here, personal and sad as they are," you shrug. "But things can't continue on like they have been."

He nods his head and continues up the stairs, "Fair enough, well then, welcome to the Central Tower." Dargan flourishes his hand and bows. Turning on his heals he points to a bulky guard leaning against the wall, "And this good fellow is Max."

Dargan exchanges introductions between the two of you and has you show the pass. Max opens the barred door to the tower where you're ushered up a series of staircases till you reach the third floor. You're introduced to another guard, Gildred, who you show your pass to. Before you're able to say farewell, Dargan leads you into the third floor lab and quickly shuts the door.

You try and catch your breath but the Bone mage drags you along and takes you down a hall that leads you to a circular room. Several mages clad in maroon cloak turn and glare at you.

"Dargan... has it really been four years?" One of them asks.

"Yes high mage Cragsith. This is my replacement, young mage Thaneswell," he introduces you.

"A Thaneswell? And of.... The Order of Delight? How... Amusing," High mage Cragsith chuckles. "Very well, I assume she's been educated?"

"Yes high mage, of course," Dargan bows his head.

"Good, then you may leave. Estan will show her to the cell, you should hurry and take your respite. I know exams will be starting next month," He waves Dargan off with a limp hand.

Dargan bows and exits with haste, leaving you alone with the High Tower's alchemists.

"You've caught us at an excellent time, we're needing a fresh batch of blood. Estan will take you down and show you the ropes," Cragsith beckons to a hunched figure.

"Follow me," Estan orders and shuffles towards the middle of the room. He places his hand on the central supporting pillar and a door appears shortly after. It opens to reveal a lift that will take you down to the Tower's prison.

Estan tells you that all vials are kept in a desk outside the fae's cell and on a normal day that you'll receive a slip with how many you are to fill.

"He's basically docile at this point. Hasn't been an incident in over two hundred years. It's an easy job, just taxing as I'm sure Dargan has mentioned," Estan says in an oddly comforting way.

Once you're down under the tower and exit the lift, Estan leads you to the fae's cell. He pulls out nine vials from a drawer in the desk and checks them for cleanliness, "Don't want anything but his blood in these."

After his inspection he has you place the pass in a slot on the wall next to the cell. You fell just the faintest bit of your life force slip as the locks turn and door opens ever so slightly.

There's a dank smell that wafts in your nose and the sudden charge in the air has every hair standing on edge.

Estan hands you eight of the vials to hold as he escorts you in. You fear that you might find a horrid and fiendish fae as Dargan lead you to believe but instead all you see is a sad one, bound in chains and leathers with living runes.

What was probably once lovely long flowing black hair is now matted and tangled in several areas. His eyes and mouth are covered with greyish leather that have ancient magic imbued in them. His skin is sickly pale and nails are curled from neglect.

The fear and nerves you felt entering this place disappear and are quickly replaced with pity and then something else. A deep need to free him settles into you and it's one that's beyond your mission or any ethical reason. You feel sicked and in pain at seeing him like this.

"It's just a quick prick right here, same spot every time," Estan interrupts your thoughts as he points to a tattoo of a circle on the fae's arm. As he goes to poke it you quickly ask if you can.

"I learn better by doing is all, that and I want to do well with this job," you say with full fake determination.

Estan chuckles and hands his vial and needle over to you, "I get it, I was the same when I was a student here. Not going to lie, but you're the first Cragsith has really acknowledged this fast, well aside from myself. Maybe he sees some promise in you."

Or maybe he's warry of me being a Thaneswell, you think.

Not wanting to drop your facade, you go and draw the fae's blood.

Bile quickly threatens your throat but you do well in holding back the vomit.

This feels so wrong that it's hard to stomach, is this a curse that the fae has in place? Why didn't Dargan tell you? Maybe you'll ask your uncle later... But first, to fill the other eight vials.

It takes all your strength and will power not to throw up while extracting the fae's blood but you somehow manage. After Estan takes you back up to the third floor and sings praises about your enthusiasm do you ask to be shown to the bathroom.

Once your stomach is empty you resolve to find and beat Dargan black and blue for leaving out the part about wanting to blow chunks when extracting blood.

You stomp your way out of the central tower and down the path to the east but quickly stop in your tracks when a notice echoes through the grounds.

"All first years to the North Tower for dorm sorting. I repeat all first years to the North Tower for dorm sorting," the voice rang.

And before you could take another step you found yourself being lifted for a moment, cold dark air rushing around you, and then you were set back down amongst a crowd right outside the North Tower.

A few others look around in confusion but for the most part people just shrug it off as typical tower magic.

"Hey, over here," you here a familiar voice.

You turn and see Ruya with Ilta, Tarek, and Luan. Quite the odd ball group but you're about to make it weirder, being a bard and all.

"I heard you got to go to central tower, how was it?" Tarek asks.

"And who'd you hear that from?" you raise a brow at him and he grins.

"From a senior of my sect, Dargan," he smiles and shows his reaper mark.

Before you can ask, Ruya, Ilta, and even Luan all flash their arms with the subsect marks on them. They all tell you how they each ran into their seniors here and took on jobs close to or in the central tower. The twins have jobs in the library near the central tower, Ruya brings meals up for the alchemists, and Luan is set to clean the equipment for the central tower.

"Dargan said there's a high chance that we'll get bunked with other subsect members as the Dorm Matron works directly with high mage Thaneswell," Tarek smiles and looks at Luan, "No weird shadowy shit."

"Then I hope you'll keep your knives and bones on your side of the dorm," Luan smiles.

Ilta smacks her brother's arm and Ruya rolls her eyes.

You can feel this group's dynamic setting in place already.

"All first years, dorm mothers will be coming around with dorm assignments. These assignments are final and we expect no complaints. Once you have you receive your dorm and room token you will be teleported there. Potions for teleportation sickness are on the stands outside the rooms if needed," another announcement rings.

Your group looks around for dorm mothers, all middle aged or elderly mages wearing light blue cloaks with yellow ribbons. You've heard many stories about the dorm mothers here and how even the highest mages offer their respects to them. They're truly a force to be reckoned with.

"Here you are... Thaneswell's bunch," A dorm mother approaches your group and looks everyone up and down before turning to Tarek and Luan. "The two of you will go to Mother Margo's dorm, you'll be bunking in room eleven. Here are your tokens."

The two of them reach out their hands with slight hesitation but once they touch the tokens, they vanish.

"I have to say, that's gotta be the second fastest I've seen my brother disappear," Ilta smiles.

"What was the fastest then?" Ruya asks.

"When he found out he broke up with the head Reaper's daughter," Ilta laughs.

"You three," the dorm mother glares at us and then at Ilta, "I expect you to be prompt, never out past curfew, and not a meal skipped. I am your dorm mother, Mother Beatrice. You'll each have your own rooms, connecting. Seven, eight, and nine."

You look at the girls but before either can say anything, Ruya reaches out for her token and vanishes. Ilta smiles at you and shrugs before taking hers. Taking a deep breath in you reach for room token nine and feel yourself being flung around.

Left and right, right then right again. You feel as if you're passing through sheets like a child running through laundry on a sunny day. Warm and cold air take turns at slapping your body before you suddenly snap to a stop and your body slams right into a door with a hard thud.

"Ow," you moan as you peel yourself off the door. Your face stings where it met the hard wood.

You look around and see Ruya doubled over holding an empty potion bottle with Ilta rubbing her back.

"Going to be alright over there?" you ask.

Ruya nods but stays down.

"She was slung into her stand and it knocked the wind out of her," Ilta winces.

"This is why I hate teleportation, too volatile and under studied. Now I know why the fae rarely use it themselves," you cringe at the thought of being teleported again anytime soon.

After the three of you check yourselves over for any wounds and sickness you part to your own rooms.

Your room is cozy and well furnished. A few wooden boxes lay on your bed with a few notes. The first note is a greeting from the towers and what to expect in the coming days. The second is from Mother Beatrice with a list of rules and a meal schedule. The third is from the central tower... A letter just for you.

"Good evening young Thaneswell,

We welcome you to the central tower and have high hopes for you. Estan spoke highly of you and your eagerness, a most welcomed delight, as Dargan was most melancholic. Estan will continue to escort you to the cell for the next ten days as he trains you. We look forward to having a mage with your enthusiasm."

You feel your stomach churn as you finish reading the letter. You quickly crumple it up and toss it in the waste bin.

Something about being on their good side this quickly unsettles you but you'll do your best to turn it around and use it to your advantage. You can't let this continue, too many innocent lives are at stake and you're not sure how much longer your great uncle can keep funding missions like this.

With that resolve you go through the boxes next, supplies and a uniform. Papers, books, ink, and pens. A first year's dark brown cloak and knee high boots with metal plates on the toes and knees. There's a map with local shops and a post office where mages who come to study can send letters and receive parcels.

Next you notice a small wooden box with a stamp from the West tower. You open the lid and see a small mirror, a pouch, a dagger, and a note. You quickly unfold the note and it has instructions on how to use the mirror.

"Use the dagger to prick your finger and sign this rune with your blood. I will be alerted that you wish to speak with me. Only use this in your room or in dire emergencies."

You have a gut feeling that he wants you to try it out know so you prick your finger and write out the rune on the mirror. Within seconds it lights up and an image of your uncle shoots up from it.

"I'm glad my gift has found you. Though I wish we could chat longer I have the head Matron of the dorms coming up to see me. I'll keep this short, get the fae to speak. Get him to talk, get him to listen, and get him on our side," your uncle orders.

You nod but feel sick as you do, "Understood, but I must ask, is there a curse on him?"

The high mage's brows knit in confusion, "Why do you ask?"

"I...I took his blood and I felt sick and there was this wrongness. Like I couldn't stand that I was hurting him, it was odd," you mention.

Your uncle's eyes widen but he says nothing for a few moments too long, "No, no curse. Keep me updated on these, odd feelings. I must go now."

The image of your uncle vanishes and instead of getting an answer to your question, you feel like you've gained a long list of inquiries that will be left in the box.

"What have I gotten myself into," you groan as you flick your wrist and move your things off the bed so you can fling yourself onto it.

At least I'm not alone, you think as you curl up and slowly pass out.

[the-kingshound]

So... Ehem.... When you say ANY part of Hound's body can be magically hardened do you really mean ANY???

it's for uhh

Reasons

...

[mage-and-the-tantrums]

Hopeless Romantic

I will write down all the sweet things you said to me I will hold them tight, close to my heart Next to the dust and the rust Praying that I won't burst

I will run my fingers along my scars, Painting them with the colours you brought, Through the pixels of our screen, Humming the tone of your voice

While the Mediterranean sits between us, Like a heavy guest, unaccounted for, Mighty, silent and vast, full of secrets, Waves upon waves, darkness above darkness

I will read through your lines, Drawing the divide in the sand, between your flirts and your honesty, Wondering about the exact shade of green of your eyes, Realising that it's too late to save my tranquillity,

I wonder about how you look when you wake up, And the way you smell, The way you love having your coffee in the morning, And how you prefer to wear your hair

I still remember the first time I saw you The familiar face of a stranger The instant spark of interest And the immediate sweet surrender to circumstances

I remember the first time I held my head in my hands When you whispered into my digital ear That I was on your good side From the second you saw me

You fired your arrows, without proper warning And I caught fire Only time will tell If it was for fun, or for the longer run

I still don't know how it happened, how I ended up here Having you constantly in my head, tangled this deep, It's like I'm slowly being submerged But I can't remember the last time I felt this alive

I don't know how it's going to end, And luckily that's the only victory I have To surrender myself to the tide Of the infinite wisdom of God

Through the thousand questions I have for you And the dire odds of this unexpected, unrequited conquest I mention you in every prayer To the One who knows best

The heart is a wave crashing wherever it wishes And I have always followed my inner sea But the ebbs and flows of your tide Keeps dazzling and puzzling me

I will remember the sweet things you said to me, And I will cherish it forever, whatever the outcome, I will wonder what it would be like to be your one, But who would you be for me ?

[geriaunelysk]

High mage Lust from "Cursed lovers"!

Some info:

•Lust is as proud as a peacock, which is probably why his palisman is a peacock.

• Lust excels in configuration magic(creating things from other things, turning things in to something else) and has opened a beauty and fashion salon in Ebbot, most of what he sells is affordable and he never makes the same clothes twice. Lust is currently teaching his apprentice Catty all he knows about magic and fashion.

• You will never find Lust wearing boring clothes, he will always dress to look his best.

• There is no point in asking him for his age, he will not tell.

• He's a good friend to Geno. They often talk about fashion, love and other things that happen in their life over tea. They have collaborated on multiple projects such as fashion shows, beauty/higiene products, fairs, celebrations,[....].

• He often likes to play "cupid" and help others with love problems and set them up or help them get ready for dates. He gives good advice, but he can never find a lover for himself. They always seem to be intimidated by his tall stature and eccentric personality.

• Lust dreams of opening multiple salons around the world and helping as many people as he can look and feel their best. He also wouldn't mind to design an outfit or two for royalty.

(might get edited in the future)

[a-drama-addict]

the thing about virika right now is that i think she unfortunately has the most romantic chemistry with vivienne. which isn’t bad the game will just cock block me

[specshroom]

Mage reader is definitely the type to purposefully jump into siren infested waters lmao.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏﹏𓂁﹏﹏𓊝﹏﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Like imagine you overhear some sailors talking about how they have to sail past siren territory and your ears perk up. You beg the sailors to let you join, under the pretence that you're a studious mage who's "researching sirens" and "studying their magic". 

The sailors believe you and bring you along the trip to the rough waters of the siren's territory. They've all plugged and covered their ears as usual, except for you, you're too busy leaning over the ships edge to get a peak at any sirens below. And wouldn't you know, the second you hear the siren's song you're gone. Lost in a trance, blank expression unable to hear the sailors yelling at you as you stand up on the ships edge and jump right into the sea.

The cold waters shock you out of your trance as you take in the quiet surroundings, salt water burning your eyes. You try and swim to the surface but feel a strong tug on your leg. Squinting down into the deep darkness you finally see the creature you were looking for. 

Dark black eyes stare up at you from below, it's powerful tail swaying behind it. The siren pulls you down, deeper into it's predatory hold with it's clawed hands. You stare at it in awe and the siren stares back, confused as to why you aren't struggling at all. 

You then feel a pinch in your lungs as you run out of air. You promptly take both hands and firmly grasp the sirens cold cheeks before pulling the creature into a deep kiss. 

The siren freezes in absolute shock as you kiss them deeply. The kiss breaths magic into your lungs, giving you temporary air. You release the sea creature from the kiss and take a hesitant breath.

"That actually worked?!?!"

Your excited yell comes out as just bubbles in the water as the siren continues to stare, dumbfounded. Your hands move from their cheeks to the sirens agape mouth, excitedly exclaiming how sharp their teeth are while touching the pointed tips with your fingers. 

You're very touchy, the siren learns as they let you marvel at their body. Running your fingers down the sirens arm, comparing your hands, intertwining your fingers. The siren is at a complete loss of how to deal with this but before you can touch anything too important you feel that pinch in your lungs again. 

You look up at the beast and tap your lips. The siren finally huffs at you in disbelief and you take that as a yes and pull them in for another deep kiss. You kiss for much longer than is necessary and you even try to sneak your tongue into the kiss which earns you a little nip from the siren. 

The creature grins at you, pulls your body against theirs and comes to the conclusion not to eat you

You bring your arms around the shoulders of their much bigger frame as they hold you close to swim deeper into the cold depths. 

They have to show the rest of the pod this very strange human they caught.

𓆉 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓇼

[cherrycherish]

Unbirthed Usurper

Ria is the newest addition to the work force in the royal palace, only getting the job because someone working at the palace noticed his pretty face in the market, 'not too pretty, just plain enough' the maid said while looking him over, his height and thick black hair obscuring his face enough that most people didn't notice him. She said something about being recommended by someone but didn't explain further. It didn't matter, he wasn't in any position to turn down a job, even if they make him muck the king's stables. He knows he's lucky to get the job, and luckier still that they give him something easy; he simply has to bring the meals the kitchen prepares to whatever room he's told to. It's easy work, the only problem is that he has such a hellish appetite it's torture to smell all the delicious food on the cart and hand it over to someone else to eat. He had always known hunger and somehow even after all these years still struggled to ignore it.

It took reminding himself repeatedly what the punishment would be if he dared touch a monarch's meal to stop him from taking any. Saliva pooling in his mouth as he pushed a cart of piping hot food to its destination. When he is given permission to enter the room he forces himself to straighten up and behave. He's delivering Queen Marissa's food today, such a graceful, warm woman, so willful and strong. He doesn't meet her eyes, but he knows how her face brightens when mealtime comes around.

As Ria turns to leave, his stomach growls loudly, like it's crying out for help. He goes red to his ears but tries to play it off and continue for the door, cursing his gut for its betrayal.

"What's your name?"

He can hardly breathe as he turns back to the queen with a bow, certain that he's going to be flogged for acting unseemly. When she hears his name she doesn't snap at him or call the guard to drag him out, she merely smiles and gestures to her table, "Come eat with me, Ria."

Even though he knows he could be severely punished for such a thing, the temptation of finally tasting the culinary skills of the royal chefs is too good to resist, and he meekly nods and takes the seat next to hers. Her heady lilac scent strikes him as she places a few plates before him, insisting that certain dishes were only sent by the kitchen at the physician's request, and that half the vegetable dishes were from hell itself. She much preferred the pasta and meat and fruits on the cart.

The smell of such decadent food made him salivate, and upon tasting it he'd half wondered if he'd died already. Ria wondered how food could be made to taste so wonderful, everything he'd ever eaten up until now had always been bland. His belly grumbled as he tore into his meal, as if egging him on.

The queen ate just as quickly, though she knew proper etiquette as she did so, he admired her gluttony quietly as he wondered if anyone would notice how long he'd been here. As she stood from her chair and grabbed the last tin from the cart, she arched her back just so, requesting he loosen her corset before dessert.

He quickly did as asked, nimbly loosening the bindings of her corset to allow her some room to breathe, trying not to stare at her healthy physique. She smiled mischievously at him and slid out of her corset and dress entirely, letting her softened form jiggle free. Ria was so in awe he couldn't look away, simply asking if there was anything else he could do to serve her. She sat back in her chair and spread her legs in an invitation, beckoning him to taste her.

"First," she said, "take all of that off."

He couldn't be more red in the face, but hastily obeyed, leaving all his clothing in a pile on the floor. He found himself on his knees between her thighs, lapping at her clit hungrily, eager to repay the kindness he'd been shown.

"Hah, has it been so long since you've eaten well?" She teased, but all he could do was hum and continue to worship her.

"I mmm, think you've earned a reward..." She placed a hand on the back of his head and pushed him face-first into her cunt. In the handful of seconds he sat there stunned, she lowered herself onto him further, stretching around him while moaning. It was tight and so very hot inside, and his mind raced wondering what was happening and how she was doing it.

Once he was little more than legs sticking out of her glistening cunt Ria squirmed a bit, hearing her groan and her body pull him in deeper, until all of him had disappeared inside of her, curling up tightly within her womb.

He felt her rub at her belly while catching her breath, "You'll make a fine heir, hahh, and I'll make sure that you eat very well. Don't worry about a thing, little one."

Ria could only shiver with pleasure as an umbilical cord attached to him and he sank into a deep sleep.

The queen smiled as his body shrank down, grabbing a fork and tucking into the cake she'd set on the table earlier. Polishing it off with a burp she stood and called for one of her ladies in waiting to help her get dressed in something more comfortable, knowing she couldn't squeeze her precious heir with a corset.

In a beautiful embroidered green dress the queen all but skipped to the physician's office, and after a thorough examination he caught her contagious joy, "It seems the king's seed has taken at last, Your Majesty."

She beamed, trying not to laugh, "I'll go tell him at once."

The king, who only had time for his concubines, wouldn't be given the pleasure of filling the queen with an heir. He only ever came to her room once a week to give her joyless sex and then disappeared again. No, the king hadn't earned an heir, and would surely replace her with one of his whores if they were first to produce a child. The queen couldn't suppress her grin as she marched into his wing of the palace, and into his bedroom.

"Rao!" She called, pulling open the curtains to wake him.

He and all his harem groaned at the light, "What is it, Marissa?"

"I've done it at last, my husband. I'm full with child, at last." She stood triumphantly before him, the slightest curve of her middle hardly even noticeable.

The king sat up, "Have you told the physician this?"

"He confirmed it before I came here, of course. I've already picked out a name."

"Should that not be the king's choice?" One of his whores dared to speak.

"Ria," Marissa rubbed a hand over the tiny swell, completely ignoring the question, "His name will be Ria."

The king smiled, looking almost disbelieving, "You think you'll give me a son?"

"Call it a mother's intuition." She couldn't get the smile off her face.

"We'll need to start planning a celebration to announce-- Marissa?"

"Yes?"

"You're crying."

She blinked, she was indeed crying, "I'm-- I'm so happy." She wiped her tears away, "Our son will be here soon."

"Let's save the tears for when he's actually been born, hm?"

Marissa smiled wider as his consorts tittered with laughter, this man didn't deserve a true heir. Once she'd birthed this child she'd get rid of Rao and each of his whores.

But first, she'd play the role of a ditzy pregnant wife, "I'll let the head maid know, oh and the seamstress, I'll go tell her at once! Get up and send word to the duke and the other loyal houses."

Then she was off to see the seamstress and head maid, along with her ladies in waiting. Everything needed to be perfect for her precious prince.

Between planning celebrations and hiring new staff and working with the loyal houses and meeting with merchants, the king hardly had slept and certainly didn't have any time for his consorts. He had to spend time lavishing his wife with gifts to show the opposing houses how united they were.

Naturally, it caught Rao completely off guard when not one, but two, of his six consorts ran away, leaving nothing but a letter of tearful apology in their wake. He'd sent people to search for them but they'd returned empty handed.

The queen meanwhile, was living the dream. Though her feet and back ached, her ladies in waiting were enamored with her growth, doing everything in their power to tend to her. Her prince was strong, kicking her relentlessly whenever it was time to eat. She delighted in knowing he was still an insatiable glutton. She hadn't really meant to eat the two consorts she'd passed in the hall late one evening, she just got such an urge to, and couldn't resist. The two whores made perfect padding on her massive form, she even needed wider seats now.

The physician and seamstress measured her round swell, taking notes as she admired her form in the mirror.

"You're growing well, Your Majesty, the child will surely be healthy, if a bit big."

Marissa ran a hand over the globe, "You said to indulge my cravings as it's what he needs to grow, I'm just following your instructions."

"Of course, Your Majesty, overweight is preferable to underweight. Just don't be surprised on his birthday at how big he is."

She nodded, telling herself that she wouldn't indulge the craving for anymore consorts, though the thought did tempt her.

It was another late evening when the back pain and ceaseless kicking pulled Marissa from bed, her prince was unaware that it was time for sleep, demanding more food despite the late hour. She dutifully put on her slippers and waddled toward the kitchens.

However, in the hallway she found herself cornered by two of her husband's consorts, one even brandished a letter opener at her, demanding to know what had happened to the two that disappeared. In such a position, Marissa told herself, she really didn't have much choice but to eat them, disarming the one with the letter opener and tearing away her night dress before gulping her down, pining the other beneath her huge body while she did so.

Once both of them were locked within her aching belly she struggled to her feet, clutching her full writhing belly with both arms and trying to make her way back to her room, unable to contain the loud belch that escaped. Her nightgown had split along the sides of her swell, it would mean more work for the seamstress to do in the morning.

"My lady?" The soft voice of the palace mage called.

"H-Hermes, hurrrrrrp! Ohh, p-pardon me. I think I, urp, bit off more than I can chew."

Hermes' dark eyes twinkled, "Indeed, it's hard work keeping up with the prince's appetite." He grabbed up the discarded clothes from the floor and threw them over his shoulder, placing one hand on the small of his queen's back and the other against the wriggling swell, "Let me help you back to bed, my lady."

Once she was in bed, he discarded the garments in the fireplace and rubbed at the Queen's aching mass happily. "Has the prince had his fill for now?"

"Urrp, ugh, for now. I'm sure he'll be kicking again by breakfast time." The queen's belly grumbled around the midnight snack. Luckily, the fat insulating her swell trapped the two consorts within, and in the dark the movement was indistinguishable from that of the prince. Finally satiated, the prince allowed her to sleep.

In the morning, after breakfast and before meeting the seamstress, Marissa slipped quietly through the library and into the mage tower. The palace mage was a bright eyed thirty something who had apprenticed under his predecessor, and he had proved especially capable to the queen.

Marissa had zero plans of climbing all those tower stairs, pregnant or not, and merely pressed a ringing charm on the wall. She could just make out the sound of a bell in the top of the tower.

The mage threw open the door to his room and leapt down the stairwell, landing without injury like a cat, standing tall before her and brushing his tawny hair back, she knew under the mage garb he had a powerful body hidden, "Good morning, my lady. I see that you like the one I recommended. Just who did you eat last night?"

"Good morning, Hermes. I uh, ran into two fools who tried to threaten me with a letter opener. The prince you picked was hungry, which didn't help. It's getting a bit difficult to haul all this around, I don't suppose there's anything you could do?"

Hermes looked over the swell like he could see right through it, jabbing a finger into the queen's side, muttering something. Some invisible force lifted her belly up, making it feel weightless. She stretched, relishing each pop of her spine, "Oooooh you're a gift, Hermes. Remind me to give you a raise."

The mage laughed, "I know you don't decide the wages around here, Your Grace, though I appreciate the thought."

"Not yet I don't." She rubbed at her belly with a smile, "I can finally walk around without having to hold all this up myself. I can walk through the gardens! You've blessed me, you truly have."

"Even magic has its limits, dearest. Try not to let the prince make anymore unreasonable demands of you. There's nothing I can do if you grow too wide to fit through doors."

"Yes, alright, no more consort midnight snacks, I understand."

"If you need the other two dealt with, I can--"

"No, I know how busy you are, focus on that. I imagine the remaining ones are too scared to act or Rao will hide them somewhere."

After being remeasured by the seamstress, Marissa took a long walk through the palace gardens, it was nice to have a moment of privacy and fresh air. She felt a flutter inside her.

"The weather is nice out today, hm?" She felt wet, her breasts were leaking, she sighed, "You should be born soon, then you can help me deal with all this."

When the queen came back inside it seemed the whole palace was bustling about. Her ladies in waiting quickly ushered her back to her room, explaining that the king had ordered security to be tighter.

With tightened security the queen was unable to get snacks at all hours, and guards followed her everywhere she went, but other than that things were much the same. She spent her days preparing for her prince's arrival, arranging a nursery, pumping plenty of milk in advance, attempting to make a baby blanket, and waddling around and stretching.

When the day finally arrived, Marissa spent hours suffering through labor, and the only people at her side were the physician, the midwife, Hermes and her ladies in waiting. Rao only bothered to show his face after the labor was over.

Prince Ria was as predicted, a big baby, though Marissa couldn't complain. He continued to show his healthy appetite while nursing, before falling asleep.

Rao stuck his nose up at the sight of the child, "He looks like you."

She laughed, "Nonsense, Rao, he has your eyes."

The king scoffed and left. Marissa watched him leave, wondering how much longer she'd have to wait.

It didn't take long, after a few months the king had caught some odd disease and passed despite all the physician's efforts. Marissa played the part of a grieving widow as long as was strictly necessary, even throwing out the remaining consorts, and then happily returned to proudly doting on her prince. Until he came of age, she'd have to manage the kingdom herself, but she was sure she'd do better than her late husband had.

Hermes was acting the part of someone who was courting her, despite the fact that they'd been together secretly for years, but the courting only made her feel young and more smitten with him than she already was.

He also took pleasure in helping her with the prince, having picked Ria himself, insisting that he looked like her. Mages are usually barren, and the queen had no desire to have a child with anyone else, so it felt nice to have a little family of their own making. Hermes enjoyed showing their baby little magic tricks, which gave Marissa time to get work done.

Yes, she thought, this was infinitely better than spending her life hiding. She was probably the villain by most people's measure, but she was content, as were the people she loved.

[antiqua-lugar]

Gale: I've missed them. I've missed this.

2. We still have each other. That's all I ever need.

Gale: I'm not sure I'll ever get over my good fortune in that respect. You are the happiness I never dreamed I could deserve.

Apparently you only get this line if Tara is busy around camp when you talk to Gale. To really hammer home how Gale really wasn't happy even before the Orb and thought he would never deserve *check notes* ...the happiness of someone loving him as a person.

...anyway if you pick option 4, he admits he would like to write down a book on all that happened! Perhaps with some embellishments! Yay!

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 56

Jaskier's tears magically heal whatever they fall on. Whether he's blessed, or has fae blood, etc etc is all up to you Geralt learned when he had a certainly fatal injury and his bard cried over him, only for the wounds to miraculously lessen in intensity, to the point he could stitch them up and he'd be fine in a couple of days. The only issue is that certain enemies are getting word of Jaskier's abilities, and are now desperately seeking some way to steal Geralt's bard from him in order to use those powers for themselves.