#mischief mana

[mahoushoujoumonster-x]

“… This is a lot more fun than I would have thought… perhaps I should go to work and see what kind of fun I could have there… neeheehee!”

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

Conversation (pwp)

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Joel Miller x f!reader | WC : 2.7k | Proof read : NO | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN |

Summary: porn with minimal plot

Warnings: m!oral, switch vibes and p in v

A/n: yall im posting again wooooo

You had been teasing Joel all afternoon, throwing him playful glances and dropping suggestive comments. It was a game—a game you loved to play, especially with him. Joel, is always so composed, always the one in control. But today, you felt like pushing his buttons, testing his limits. You were in the front seat of his truck, parked in a secluded spot overlooking the city, the sun beginning to dip behind the skyline, casting a golden hue over everything.

“Start a conversation with me,” you had said earlier, a mischievous grin on your lips. Joel looked at you, puzzled, his brows furrowing in that familiar way that always made your heart skip a beat.

“What do you mean, start a conversation?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of amusement. His eyes scanned your face, trying to figure out what you were up to.

“Just trust me,” you replied, placing your hand gently on his knee, your touch feather-light, almost innocent. But there was nothing innocent about the way your fingers started to move, tracing slow, lazy circles on the worn denim of his jeans. You could see the way his breath caught, the way his eyes darkened with a mix of confusion and desire. He was trying to keep up with you, trying to play along, but you could tell he was already struggling, caught off guard by your sudden boldness.

“Okay…” he said slowly, still watching you closely, as if trying to decipher your intentions. “Where’s your dream vacation?” he asked, his voice a bit tentative. He glanced out at the city skyline, a nervous habit of his when he was unsure when he didn’t quite know what to make of you.

You leaned back in your seat, a smirk playing on your lips as you answered, “Somewhere sunny.” You let the words hang in the air, your tone light, teasing. Joel’s gaze flicked back to you, his brow arching slightly.

“Sunny? No specifics?” he pressed, his tone a mix of curiosity and amusement. He was catching on now, starting to sense where you might be leading.

You decided to take a bold step. Your hand slipped higher up his thigh, fingers brushing dangerously close to the growing bulge in his jeans. You watched as he gulped—a small, involuntary movement that made your stomach flutter with excitement. A 56-year-old man, usually so confident, gulping at your touch—it was delicious.

“Do you want specifics?” you purred, your voice low and sultry. Joel shifted in his seat, his body tensing under your touch.

“Darlin’, what do you mean?” he murmured, his voice a little strained as if he was trying to maintain his composure. But his eyes were glued to yours, his breath coming a little faster.

Instead of answering, you moved your hand to his belt, fingers working deftly to undo the buckle. “Shh… we’re having a conversation here,” you said softly, but with a hint of mischief in your tone. You watched his eyes widen slightly as his cock sprang free, thick and hard, from the confines of his boxers. A slow, satisfied smile spread across your face at the sight of him so worked up, so on edge.

“I think somewhere like the Bahamas or Costa Rica,” you continued, your voice sweet and innocent as if you weren’t stroking him slowly, deliberately. “They have pretty beaches, don’t you think?”

Joel coughed, trying to regain some semblance of control, but his voice came out rough, and uneven. “Well… uh… Florida… um, Florida has some nice beaches too,” he stammered, his eyes fluttering closed as your hand continued its torturous rhythm.

“Yeah, but I’d kill to see the Caribbean,” you teased, your voice soft and airy. Joel was starting to lose it now, his hips bucking slightly against your hand, his breathing coming in shallow pants. You could feel him getting closer, his body betraying him.

“You should see Florida too,” he managed, his voice a bit desperate now.

You smiled, bringing your other hand into his lap, finding his balls and caressing them with a soft, teasing pressure. “Maybe we could go to Disney World in Florida,” you mused, your tone still light and conversational as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

Joel’s eyes snapped open, locking onto yours. His gaze was intense, his neck tense, a vein pulsing there. “I… I can’t… fuck, suck me off, darlin’,” he begged, his voice rough, almost pleading.

You paused for a moment, almost surprised. Joel begging? The man who could make you see stars with a single touch, the man who had fucked you so hard his back had gone out? A shiver of excitement ran through you, but you decided to play with him a little longer.

“No… we still have to—”

But before you could finish, he grabbed the nape of your neck, his fingers digging into your hair, and pushed your head down onto his cock, his need overtaking him. The suddenness of it made you gag, your throat constricting around his length. He held you there, forcing you to take him, his hips thrusting up, driving deeper into your mouth, each movement rough and demanding.

Then, just as suddenly, he released his grip, letting you pull back, gasping for air, your eyes watering. “Fuck you,” you muttered, your voice hoarse.

Joel's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression a mix of disbelief and arousal, but there was something else there—something darker, something simmering just beneath the surface. The truck's interior felt suddenly smaller and more intimate, the air thick with anticipation and the scent of leather and sweat. You felt a rush of heat, a blend of excitement and defiance, pulse through your veins.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, as if daring you to repeat yourself. The truck's engine was off, and the world outside seemed to fade away; all that mattered now was this confined space and the tension crackling between you.

You smirked, feeling a thrill at the challenge in his voice. "You heard me," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper, but filled with a teasing confidence. Your hand didn’t stop, your fingers working his cock with a firm, steady rhythm. He was rock hard, and you could feel him throbbing in your grip, the veins on his shaft bulging with each pulse. It made you bolder, and braver than you usually felt.

Joel’s breath hitched, his control slipping. He wasn’t used to this—being toyed with, being pushed to the edge. He was the one who was supposed to be in charge. But right now, with your hand wrapped around him, teasing him, driving him crazy, he wasn’t sure who held the power anymore.

“Keep talking,” he demanded, but his voice broke, a desperate edge creeping in. “Tell me more about this… Caribbean vacation.” He tried to sound casual, but you could hear the strain, see it in the way his hand gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white.

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "I think it would be beautiful. Warm sand beneath my feet, the ocean stretching out forever, the sun kissing every inch of my skin…" Your hand moved faster, your thumb swirling around the tip of his cock, collecting the slick bead of precum that had gathered there. “And maybe,” you continued, your voice husky, “we’d find a secluded spot, just the two of us… where I could do this.”

You bent down, finally taking him into your mouth, your lips closing around his swollen head. Joel groaned, his hips jerking forward involuntarily, pushing himself deeper into your warm, wet mouth. The sound he made—a deep, guttural moan—sent a thrill through you, your own body responding, heat pooling low in your belly.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he breathed, his hand finding its way to the back of your head again, but this time his grip was gentler, his fingers threading through your hair as he guided you. “That’s it… take it all.”

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper, your tongue flicking against the underside of his cock, feeling the way he throbbed against you. His taste was salty and intoxicating, and you moaned around him, the vibration making him curse under his breath. You felt powerful, and in control, every whimper and groan from him feeding the fire inside you.

Joel’s hips started to move, slow thrusts that matched the rhythm of your mouth. His breath was ragged now, his control slipping with every second. “Jesus, you’re gonna make me come,” he warned, his voice tight. “Is that what you want?”

You pulled back just enough to murmur, “Not yet,” before plunging back down, taking him as deep as you could. You felt him hit the back of your throat, and you fought the urge to gag, pushing past it, wanting to give him everything, wanting to drive him wild. You looked up at him through your lashes, watching his face contort with pleasure, his lips parted, eyes half-closed, lost in the sensation.

“Fuck, you’re such a tease,” he groaned, his grip tightening again. “You want me to beg, is that it?”

You hummed around his cock, a low, teasing sound that made him buck into your mouth. You pulled back, letting him slip from your lips, and smiled up at him, your hand still stroking him slowly, torturously. “Maybe,” you said. “Or maybe I just want to see how far I can push you before you snap.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, the shadows in his gaze deepening with a mix of frustration and hunger. He looked down at you, his lips curling into a predatory smile, a hint of challenge flickering in his eyes. "You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart," he warned his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “And you know what happens when you push me too far.”

Your heart pounded, excitement buzzing through your veins. You loved this—the edge of danger, the thrill of seeing him unravel. Leaning in, you let your breath ghost over the slick, throbbing head of his cock, your lips brushing against his skin just enough to drive him crazy. “Maybe,” you whispered, “I want to see what happens.”

His grip on your hair tightened, his knuckles brushing your scalp, and he yanked you up to his level, his face inches from yours, his breath hot against your lips. “Oh, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice a rough, needy growl, “I’ll show you exactly what happens.”

Without warning, Joel’s mouth crashed onto yours, the kiss hard and demanding, filled with a raw, desperate hunger that took your breath away. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming you with a fierce possessiveness that made your knees go weak. You moaned into the kiss, your hands clutching at his shirt, needing something to hold onto as his intensity threatened to consume you.

His hand slid from your hair to your waist, pulling you closer, his rough grip on your hips bruising in its urgency. You could feel the hard press of his cock against your stomach, still throbbing, still aching for release. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, sucking and biting, leaving a trail of marks that made you gasp, your body arching against him. 

"Joel…" you breathed, your voice a mix of a plea and a challenge. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the dampness between your thighs growing with every touch, every kiss. You wanted more. You wanted all of him.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes boring into yours, dark and intense, his chest heaving. "Turn around," he ordered, his voice rough with desire. There was no room for argument in his tone, and you felt a thrill run through you at his command. You loved it when he took control when he showed you just how much he needed you.

You obeyed, turning around in the cramped space of the truck, your hands bracing against the dashboard. You felt his hands on your hips, strong and demanding, pulling your ass back against him. The heat of his body pressed against yours, his cock hot and heavy against your backside. You could feel him shift behind you, the sound of your zipper being pulled down, and your breath hitched, anticipation coiling tight in your stomach.

"Spread your legs," Joel growled in your ear, his voice a low, dangerous whisper that sent a jolt of arousal straight to your core. You did as he said, parting your thighs, your heart racing with the knowledge of what was coming next.

He didn’t waste any time. One hand slipped down between your legs, finding the wet heat of your core, his fingers sliding through your folds, teasing your clit with a rough, skilled touch that made you gasp, your hips bucking back against him. “So wet for me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “You like this, don’t you? Being my little slut.”

You whimpered, nodding, unable to form words, your body trembling with need. His fingers pressed harder against your clit, rubbing in slow, torturous circles that made you see stars, your head falling back against his shoulder. 

“Joel, please…” you begged your voice a breathless whisper. You needed him. Needed him to take you, to fill you, to make you his.

He chuckled darkly, a low, dangerous sound that made your skin prickle with anticipation. “Please what, darlin’?” he taunted, his fingers slipping lower, teasing your entrance, his cock brushing against your slick folds, just enough to make you moan. “Use your words.”

You swallowed hard, your body quivering with desire, your hands gripping the dashboard tighter. “Please, Joel… fuck me,” you pleaded, your voice raw with desperation. 

That was all he needed to hear. With a rough, almost feral growl, he thrust into you, filling you in one hard, deep stroke that made you cry out, your body arching against him. The feeling of him stretching you, filling you so completely, was almost too much, too intense, and yet you craved more. 

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he set a brutal pace, his thrusts deep and relentless, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you that made you see stars. “So tight… so fucking perfect.”

You could feel the truck rocking with the force of his thrusts, the windows fogging up from the heat of your bodies. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your moans filling the small space, mingling with the sound of skin slapping against skin. Every nerve in your body was on fire, every touch, every thrust driving you closer to the edge.

“Joel, I’m close,” you whimpered, your voice breaking with need. You could feel the coil tightening in your belly, the wave of pleasure building, threatening to crash over you.

“Then come for me,” he growled, his voice rough, his thrusts becoming even harder, more erratic. “Come on my cock, darlin’. Let me feel you squeeze me.”

His words were your undoing. With a loud cry, you came, your body convulsing around him, your walls clenching tight around his cock, milking him for all he was worth. The pleasure was blinding, overwhelming, crashing over you in waves that left you trembling, breathless, your mind spinning.

Joel wasn’t far behind. With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as he came, filling you with his hot release. You could feel him throbbing inside you, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm, his hands gripping your hips so tight you knew you’d have bruises.

For a moment, the only sound in the truck was your combined heavy breathing, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Slowly, Joel pulled out of you, his cock softening, and you slumped forward against the dashboard, your body spent, still quivering from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He leaned over you, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice still rough, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

You laughed breathlessly, turning your head to look at him, your own lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Worth it,” you replied, your voice soft, teasing.

Joel chuckled, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips. “Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes softening, a rare, tender look crossing his face. “Definitely worth it.”

[lokidjarin-7567]

Down Bad

Wolverine/Logan x Reader You meet a mysterious man called Logan in a bar, and end up having some fun… fem!reader, 18+ MDNI 1.2k words TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

You couldn’t even make it to the bed. It was pathetic really - the desperation you felt for a man you had met in the bar only a couple of hours ago. But there was something about him. A gravitas. A magnetic pull that made you breathy and needy, both your shirt and his off before the door was even closed.

“You don’t get a lot of girls starting conversations in bars, bub.” He muttered, the first crack of a smile appearing. He had the kind of face that looked serious, almost aggressive in some lights, but when he started to smile, you knew it would suit him, a hint of mischief setting in. He was tall and toned, a fact you could see regardless of the oversized plaid shirt he wore, and just so incredibly attractive in a rugged way. Just your type. You were never one to talk to a stranger, but you just couldn’t stop yourself. And you weren’t sure why. You said as much to him with a shrug, which earned a chuckle.

“I guess I can’t argue with that.”

And now you were here, your body pressed firmly against your kitchen counter, his hands tangled in your hair as he kissed you deeply, hungrily. A need that matched your own. He somehow pressed even further into you, back painfully biting into the hard material, and you whined, the pain mixed with the headiness of his mouth on yours making you more turned on than you thought possible. His hands trailed to your thighs, gripping you tightly and lifting one leg to wrap around him, grinding himself into your core with a noise that could only be considered a growl, low and reverberating. Feral.

His lips didn’t leave yours as he spun you round, your tangled bodies colliding with your dining table. He broke to breathe for a short moment, hands falling to your jeans as you panted, trying to catch your breath too. God, he looked hot like this. Bare chest heaving, brow adorned with a small trace of sweat, eyes wild and frantic. And you had been right when you saw him at the bar - he was incredibly toned, almost as though his muscles had been carved out of marble. You couldn’t help but run your hands over him, the ridges of his abs, his unruly chest hair, down to his jeans, where you swiftly undid the fly and button, allowing him to step out of them as you did the same. And then you were back on each other, an aggressive kiss that knocked the wind out of you, one that consisted of biting his lip and his tongue working its way deep into your mouth. There was now very little between your aching core and the tent in his boxers, two thin layers of measly fabric, and you rubbed up against him, desperately trying to get some friction. You broke away again, needing a breath even though you didn’t want it, not if it meant leaving the taste of his mouth, whiskey and cigars.

“Fuck, Logan.” You barely managed to whine the words, a pathetic noise as he kissed your neck, then quickly deciding to bite down, your whine turning into a guttural groan. “I need you…”

“Fucking hell, baby, get those off please…” You didn’t hesitate, pulling down your panties and kicking them off quickly. He followed suit, pulling down the waistband of his boxers and allowing his cock to spring free, fully hard and magnificent. You instantly pulled him closer, needing him inside you, and he lined himself up, his hands falling to your hips and gripping hard, painfully so. A moan escaped your lips, a pitiful one, almost like a beg, and he grinned.

“You want something?” He muttered, voice low and husky, and you sighed.

“Shut the fuck up.” You whispered back, hands moving down his back and pulling him into you. He growled, a noise so raw and desperate it sent shivers down your spine. He was big, so big it completely winded you, but before you even got a chance to get accustomed to his size, he had bottomed out. You whimpered - the only noise you could manage with no air in your lungs - and he pulled out, slamming back into you with a force that made your eyes roll back into your head. Your hands found their way to his back, desperate for something to hold onto, sinking your nails into him. He felt so good that you could cry, each thrust taking you closer to the edge so quickly. You couldn’t do much but moan his name along with a string of expletives, and you let one of your hands fall from his back round to your clit. You barely needed it; the angle where you were perched on the table allowing him to hit that spot deep inside you that made your vision go blurry. You felt one of his hands trace up your body, over your stomach, the lacy fabric of your bra, up to your neck. His hand wrapped around it, giving it a gentle squeeze, testing the waters. You fluttered around him involuntarily, a soft whine escaping you, and he grinned. Then you could barely breathe.

You ground down into him as you gasped in tiny breaths shakily, his hand like a vice. It was starting to make you lightheaded, that divine feeling you often chased, and you knew you were getting close.

“There you go…” he whispered in your ear, squeezing slightly tighter. Your hands moved to his hair, lacing into it and pulling as he groaned loudly. “That’s it, baby, cum for me.” You were close, so close, and then it was on you like a wildfire, body going rigid and cunt clamping down around him as pleasure overtook you, a loud moan of relief leaving your body as he released his hand from your neck, allowing the blood and breath to rush back into your head and adding a blissful giddiness to the already overwhelming ecstasy your orgasm. He continued to fuck you through it, his hands and teeth finding different places to grip onto you with every thrust, and it wasn’t long before he was there too, pressing his hips deep inside you and cumming, his hot seed filling you as you rode out the final waves of your pleasure together.

He stayed inside you and lifted you up by your ass, cradling your boneless frame before placing you one your bed. He handed you some tissues, saying he was going to clean up, and you thanked him, breathing still ragged and body not quite cooperating with what you wanted it to do, so fucked out you had no energy left. He paused, a grin spreading across his face as he looked down at you, eyes taking over your body.

“What?” You managed to whisper, smiling shyly.

“I just… God you look so pretty like that, Bub. Makes me want to do something…” he paused, changing his mind, then walking to the bathroom, leaving the thought unfinished. You just smiled. The night wasn’t over yet.

[evolutionsvoid]

Harpies are known for their smarts, though this can be a good or bad thing depending on who you are talking to. They are capable of memorizing patterns, using tools, recognizing faces and performing multi-step problem solving. On top of that, they are incredible vocal mimics, able to perfectly copy those they hear and repeat it even weeks afterwards. While this creates a clever bird that some admire for their craftiness, others despise them when they use these powers for mischief. Depending on their environment and how they are treated, harpies can either be reliable allies to kind friends or ceaseless terrors to those who hurt them. Tales of wild harpies leading villagers to the site of an accident, so they can help those who couldn't call for help. Stories of folk being lured away by cries and sounds of distress, only to find nothing and return to a looted home or market stall. Regardless in how one views them, harpies are incredible creatures with a vast potential dwelling within them. And that is what one warlock realized on a fateful day...

Some time ago, a warlock who hid himself and his evil schemes away from the world decided that he needed some company. Long days and night working away without anyone to talk to was growing tiresome, so he sought to fix this by getting a pet. There were plenty of options, but he decided upon taking a wild harpy as his own. Their ability to mimic voices and learn patterns seemed like a good set up for a fake conversation partner. They could play the role and give him someone to talk to, even though he knew well that what was squawked back was simple mimicry. Regardless, it seemed like a good idea. He caught a young one out in the wild and spent weeks getting her used to living in this hidden lair and adapting to this new secretive life. Though there were some rough patches here and there, enough treats, pettings and enrichment got her to get comfortable. He gave her the name Celaeno, and set up her space right in his personal workshop. And so now the warlock had a companion as he toiled over his books, cauldron and runes, talking to her as if she was a minion scheming alongside him. In time, her responses back to him grew more life-like, as if she was truly holding a conversation with him. And there would be moments when he heard his own words thrown back at him in such perfect mimicry that it startled him. It seemed she was absorbing far more then he expected. All the rites, spells and plots he spoke aloud, she took in and memorized. One day, while working with some scrolls, his companion grew irritated with an empty food bowl and barked out a spell. The magical blast only singed his robes, but the weight of what he witnessed blew his mind.

It was then he realized the potential he had in his hand. He honestly cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Magic, when you boiled it down to its basics, was nothing but simple patterns and repeated phrases. Concepts easily mastered by a harpy. Celaeno had witnessed and heard so much, that she could regurgitate complex commands perfectly. After all, as long as he said it correctly in front of her enough times, she could just mimic him and get the same result. What happened in the workshop that one day was a simple pulse of magic, created by a mimicked spell with not enough juice. Harpies didn't have mana to draw from to fuel such magics, but if he could fix that...

In a flash, all his previous projects were pushed aside, as he now had a new vision to follow. If he could provide Celaeno with enough magical trinkets and mana-infused items, she could draw from them. And with careful training and cues, he could make her spit out specific spells and commands. If all this could be made to work, he would have a magical companion that would rival any familiar. Imagine! A pet bird that could fire magic bolts with their voice, or even summon the dead! She would hardly be a pet anymore, more like a pupil! And what if he were to train other harpies? The vision was too great to pass up. Flocks of magic wielding harpies, raining spells upon his foes and allowing him to pull off schemes in impossible ways. He would be unstoppable, a pioneer in a whole new realm of magic! So he got straight to work on this vision, teaching Celaeno more and more phrases and finding ways to add mana-filled baubles to her body. Magic alteration came into play, and she appeared to grow larger and smarter with each passing week. When she raised a rat skeleton that she puked up with necrotic energy, the warlock nearly burst with excitement. It wouldn't be long now.

But as his experiments continued and Celaeno became more and more infused with the dark arts, a crucial fact vanished from the warlock's mind. When he first got her, he knew this quite well and worked with it in his training. However, his excitement over his progress and the developing powers of Celaeno caused him to grow blind to it. The simple fact was: no matter how much she sounded like one or acted like one, Celaeno wasn't a human. She was a harpy, an animal. Though it certainly felt like it at times, she did not think like a human. The way she perceived the world, handled her emotions and understood the words spoken to her was through the lens of a harpy. There were great differences between the two species, but the eager warlock allowed himself to be overtaken by the fantasy that she was his equal. And with that came the failure to understand the dangers inherent to this plan, and what would happen if things went wrong. Sure, she could summon a horde of rodent skeletons to serve as her own minions, but was she truly understanding this action? They were tied to her emotions and thus reacted as she would to a situation, but did she know that? The warlock would love to believe the answer was "yes," but that was his fatal mistake...

Though training and magical experimentation, Celaeno has become a potent wielder of the dark arts, specifically necromancer. With mana-filled jewelry and talismans added to her body, she has an incredible supply of fuel for her spells, specially designed to slowly refill over time by drawing from her environment. She has memorized a great number of magic rites and spells, which she can regurgitate on command or when she feels like it. A particular favorite of hers is reanimating the skeletons of the rats eats, gaining new minions each time she pukes up a pellet. She can even use her magic to raise human undead and other piles of flesh. However, commanding them is not something she can really do. She doesn't understand the idea of ordering around these shambling creatures. Instead, all her creations are tied to her emotions and current state of mind. Thus, if she feels threatened by an individual, her minions will see them as an enemy too and swarm. The same goes for any other complex spells in her arsenal. She just knows how to say them and the basics of what happens after. She does not understand the gravity behind them or what really goes down with these spells. One phrase creates "loud light" to her mind, when it is actually a magic explosion of necrotic energy that can easily blow a man to pieces.

And though Celaeno is able to wield the dark arts, there is not a trace of evil to be found. Words that summon the dead and commands that unleash eldritch energy are said with the same tone and purpose as when she squawks for a treat. She doesn't know that raising the dead is a cardinal sin in many kingdoms, she doesn't grasp the vile reputation of the powers she has. Celaeno has no moral compass, she is a bird. All she knows is that repeating certain words makes funny things happen, and if she can make her puke pellets move than she earns a treat! All that complicated stuff is beyond her, she just follows her cues and says what she remembers. And some times, she'll say those things when she gets angry, as that gets her master to move. If she is hungry, or he is stressing her out with all that noise and orders, she will yell the words that she knows. That always garners a reaction, and soon food will follow! Or at least, that is what usually happens...

When shambling undead began to emerge across the countryside, the Knights of the Wrong Table took notice. Used to tangling with Ver'Rahl the Necromancer, the knights were quick to suspect him as the one responsible. So they wasted no time in heading out to face this undead threat, but soon found this situation a bit odd. The zombies certainly didn't look like Ver'Rahl's usual monstrosities, and they seemed to lurch about aimlessly. The only time they reacted was when food or flesh was very close by, and then they attacked. But once shoved away, they resumed their idle wandering til they were triggered again. Their investigation would eventually lead them to a secret lair, one that reeked of the dark arts. No doubt a horrible necromancer or warlock awaited them deep within, and thus they prepared for battle. Little did they know what they would find locked away down there...

----------------------------------

"Celaeno"

This was originally going to be a harpy deviant, but I wound up liking her too much for her to be a simple one-off beast. Enough time and thought passed, that I felt she would make a fun character.

[tokiro07]

Ichi the Witch ch. 3 thoughts

[The Hunt Begins!]

(Contents: narrative establishment - flow; lore - exposition/speculation; philosophy - respect for life)

Go With the Flow

Ah, there we are! If chapters 1 and 2 were meant to establish the setting, themes and dynamics of the cast, then as I noted was missing before, chapter 3 is meant to establish the flow of the series as a whole. Though it seems like it's only a glimpse, having a lot of the legwork happen off-screen, this is clearly what the series is intended to look like going forward - Ichi learning the habits of Magiks, applying his prior experience and knowledge, then finally passing the trial

Since this one was meant to just be a tutorial, and because Ichi doesn't have the capacity for extended magical fights yet, this hunt was practically over before it began, which admittedly makes it not all that exciting as the first "battle" of Ichi's story. However, it does to a great job of establishing just how much of a threat Ichi is to the Magiks

Raiko never really knew that Ichi was there, and all of his planning towards fighting Witches in a grand display of power were thwarted without him ever realizing he'd so much as seen one. He saw what he thought was defenseless prey and the next thing he knew he was dead(?)

Obviously future Magik fights won't be this easy, but it was important that we got at least one in before dragging Ichi to the Witches Association, as otherwise the first three chapters would be almost exclusively exposition with no real action. While this brief hunt may not really capture a lot of people's attention, it will certainly do more to retain that attention than the alternative

Plus, it's not like there wasn't any exposition in this chapter

Breadcrumbs

Ichi the Witch's approach to worldbuilding seems to be answering questions with more questions. Raiko claims that he manifested in "this world," which suggests that Magiks appear fully formed without the need for parents or reproduction, but that begs the question of how. Are they random? Are they in response to some kind of stimulus? Are they born in that moment, or are they born in another world first and then come here?

This method always gives you more information than you had previously, but also gives you something to chew on, kind of like Undead Unluck revealing that stars or the days of the week don't exist. You can take that information at face value, but it's always clear that there's something more going on with it that's rife to be explored, and pondering those questions between chapters is always a great way to keep the audience engaged (at least if that audience is me)

The lifecycle of a Magik is further enlightened/obscured by the fact that Raiko doesn't seem to need to eat; he spent two weeks barbequing every animal he could find, but instead of eating them he just leaves them lying around cus he likes the smell. Do Magiks subsist on mana in the air? The pain wrought by their mischief? Anything? Whether they need to eat at all, at the very least this behavior paints Magiks in clear opposition to Ichi's Death for Death rule

Speaking of, can Magiks even die? Both of the trials we've seen so far have effectively been "take my heart," but at least in Uroro's case he clearly persisted afterwards, and plenty of trials seem to be non-violent (at least towards the Magik, such as holding a flame for an hour or walking through the wind for 1000 miles)

When a Magik is turned into a stone, is that tantamount to their death, even if only temporary until the death of the Witch that holds them? Or is it more like a Pokeball, and they can be summoned or otherwise interacted with at the leisure of the Witch? Desscaras has yet to summon any of hers despite clearly having a myriad of spells, is that because she doesn't like doing so, because Witches as a whole are opposed to it, or because they can't?

Ichi notes that Uroro didn't turn into a stone, but I would argue that he did - it's just that his also had an entire ensemble around it too. The clasp on the cape clearly resembles Uroro's heart gem, which I took to mean that it was the same gem that Ichi had just stabbed in ch.1, with the rest of the outfit literally being Uroro's body cloaking itself around Ichi

Actually, since Ichi is a hunter and therefore inclined to wear the pelts of what he hunts, I wonder if he'll get unique outfits depending on the spells he casts...it is a bit of a shame that he didn't get to butcher Raiko...

Anyway, even if the gem in the outfit is Uroro's magic stone, it is still notably unique in that it has an ornate insignia in it rather than a chant as Raiko's does. Since Uroro grants the ability to amplify other spells, it seems likely that Uroro doesn't actually have a chant of his own (though I'm willing to bet he'll get one later)

I'm also curious if the chants are distinct from the names of the Magiks - I imagine so, since there's nothing stopping Ichi from just saying "Raiko" after hearing it introduce himself, especially considering that he was able to use both Lazud and Parthion without ever facing their Magiks. Presumably the chants are words in the Magik language that describe how their powers work, since again Ichi only needed to say the words themselves rather than the preceding command ("Pierce through all - Lazud" -> "Lazud")

Finally, there's the matter of the spells themselves. With over 3000 confirmed Magiks, there was always bound to be a ton of overlap between them, and Raiko gives us a good idea of how that overlap might look. He explicitly states that he wants to become the greatest of all Lightning Magiks, strongly suggesting that Magiks have categorical types

Dau, the spell to control water, is likely only one of many water-based spells, each having some way of distinguishing themselves from each other. Perhaps one allows the creation of water? Or the destruction of water? Stagnation? Location? Summoning? Integration? Absorption? Theft? Any number of verbs can be applied to any number of nouns, and each one has the potential to be its own unique spell given the framework that we know currently

The way that Raiko uses its lightning, it doesn't seem like lightning strikes in the traditional sense. The bird we see him fry in the beginning seems to just explode into electricity, which is confirmed later to have been targeting its blood to boil it from within. In other words, Raiko's power seems to be something like "the blood electrocution spell," whereas other Lightning Magiks may have things like "the magnetism spell" or "the static discharge spell"

How general or specific the spells are is up in the air right now that we can barely begin to speculate, but that's exactly what makes it so fun at this stage! When Undead Unluck started, I just threw out a bunch of "un" words to see what kind of things I could come up with, and while I guessed a few right and got the general gist of a few others, the final product was still far beyond anything I could have imagined on my own, both in scope and quality

Even if I end up being completely wrong about everything I've said so far in the last several paragraphs, the fact that this series is getting my wheels turning so much so soon is a great sign for how much I'll be able to engage with it going forward

Speaking of being wrong, I do want to note that there was one specific thing I said last week that was pretty much immediately debunked in this chapter

R.E.S.P.E.C.T

Based on Death for Death, I figured that the whole point of Ichi's approach to fighting Magiks was to demonstrate a flaw in the Witches' mentality, that since Uroro objected to how Magik culture was being treated the Witches must be callous and indiscriminate in hunting them

However, it would seem that to Witches, combat with Magiks is a fairly formal affair steeped in tradition, with each encounter being treated as an honorable dual against a worthy adversary. Even if they view them as monsters to be slain, there's a level of dignity that comes with facing them down and proclaiming one's name. It purports that the two are equals, even if diametrically opposed

Ichi, on the other hand, has no respect for tradition or the wants of the Magik. They're little more than glorified beasts, animals that happen to possess the gift of speech, and killing them is simply a matter of course. It's not about honor or glory, it's about survival, a primal need rather than a show of civility

Of course, there's still plenty of room for nuance in this. While the Witches seem to respect the Magiks as monsters to be battled with utmost caution, they also still view them as monsters. To protect civilians, killing Magiks is a Witches duty; it's effectively pest control. If there's a Magik, it's a threat, and it needs to be eliminated

But to Ichi? Magiks are living creatures. If a living creature kills to eat, that's simply what it needs to do, and it can't be held accountable for that. However, what it means to kill and eat is also a living thing, and therefore cannot be held accountable for its need to retaliate. Whoever wins was just more fit for survival, and neither is more morally justified than the other

In other words, when a Witch sees a Magik, they respect its power by dealing with it, but when Ichi sees one, he respects it by leaving it be until it proves itself to be a threat. Neither of them is necessarily wrong, but viewed from a certain angle, they're both flawed approaches, and I think both are going to need to be addressed down the line

Still, we're only on chapter three, so the nuance of these opposing ideas has only barely been touched upon, with minor analysis from the three core members of the cast. Once we start seeing more castmates, such as other Witches, Magiks and civilians, we should start to get a clearer picture of the dichotomy of this world's philosophy. I imagine seeing the teachings of the academy in Mantinel will be a great place to start

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

[theerrorofmylife]

Witch Queen Ch. 5

Thorin x Witch!Reader

HAHAHAH I LIVE I'm so sorry its been so long, it was not my intention to let this rot in my drafts like I did. I spent an ungodly amount of time researching MORE about the swords, Khuzdul, and Quenya. I never thought I'd be conjugating a fake dwarven/ elvish language and yet, here we are. I also added in some non-cannon plot/lore, it will be important... eventually. Some of it is book accurate, but if it has to do with Witches, its just me.

Also, i was casually doing a chapter layout and this could be really, really, really long. For that reason I'll be tidying up the Masterlist and making the Witch Queen its own link to a separate listing for chapters, and I'm considering making it available on Ao3 for convenience. Let me know it if this would be easier, I'm thinking it would be. Chapters would be released simultaneously for consistency.

THIS IS FOR MATURE AUDIENCES, IF YOU ARE A MINOR THIS IS NOT FOR YOU, THIS IS 18+ UNDERSTAND ME????

WARNINGS: Lore, sad shit, non-cannon backgrounds, non-cannon lore, I'm trying to make these to as healthy of a relationship as possible but I don't have a good personal databank, SEX, mild smut, cunnilingus, Thorin knows how to use his mouth, these two are gonna get in trouble I swear, he's royalty, like, c'mon. All translations follow in italics unless translated by a character.

It never struck me that dwarves were picky eaters, but as I watched almost every single one of them pick and prod their meals, I almost laughed. They stabbed at the green leaves like they’d never seen them before. They were asking for meat and chips; I couldn’t help but huff a laugh. A large, callused hand placed itself on top of my thigh and I turned to my right, quickly tuning in to the conversation between Thorin, Gandalf, and Lord Elrond. 

“This is Orcrist, the Goblin Cleaver. A famous blade, one of a set…. It’s sister?” He narrowed his eyes at Thorin, but not in suspicion. 

“In possession of the Lady (Name).” Elrond looked from Thorin to me, a smirk rising to his lips, ill-hidden mischief in his eyes. 

“Tambë, sí násë ana anwaldë?” So, now he is giving you gifts? My face flushed a bright red. In almost every courting custom in Middle Earth, giving gifts was an important part of the courting process. Why do I get the feeling like I’m a child bringing my partner home to meet my father for the first time? Gandalf went pink in the face and started laughing quietly, his shoulders shaking a little. 

“Ála cartyalië, Hér Elrond! San mana cé cilnyë essë?” Don't make fun, Lord Elrond! So what if I choose him?

“Atarlda-” Your Father-

“Essë laië atarnya.” He is not my father. I cut him off, the mention of Thranduil nearly ruining my mood. Elrond went quiet and I saw in his eyes that he recognized this and decided to move on. 

“The two are very famous blades. Forged by the high Elves of the west. My kin. May they serve you both well.” He hands the blade back to Thorin who, while still very confused by the quick conversation between Elrond and I, took it with a grateful nod. He then took the broadsword from Gandalf. “And this is Glamdring, the Foe-Hammer, sword of the king of Gondolin. These were all made for the goblin wars of the first age. How did you come by these?” 

“We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road, shortly before we were ambushed by orcs.”

“And what were you doing on the Great East Road?” No one spoke up, and I realized at that moment that he had already caught on. Thorin stood, excusing himself from the table, and I followed, no longer hungry. We walked for some time, until we found a small chamber open to the evening air, tall pillars letting the sunset dance at our feet, the rush of a waterfall nearby. There was no furniture in the room. This place was so incredibly peaceful. 

“It seems this evening has given me more questions than answers.” Thorin spoke up, leaning his shoulder against a pillar to my left. I sighed, going to lean against the one directly in front of him. 

“I’m sorry, I am the reason for that.” He pushed off the pillar, coming to stand in front of me, taking my hands in his. I couldn’t meet his eyes, I felt horrible, everything I wanted to tell him about felt too complicated to put to words. His left hand raised to hold my face, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. 

“Let’s start with earlier, you said you’d tell me why you didn’t mind being the last witch.” I nodded. 

“Can we sit, at least?” He huffed a laugh and we sat on the floor, crossing our legs and facing each other.

“So?” I finally looked up. It was just Thorin and I but it was still weird to talk about. I looked out to my right, trying to focus on the valley below us instead of what I was saying. 

“Witches are extremely powerful, especially in the old days, when there were a lot of us. But the thing is, one of our greatest strengths comes when we make a pledge. It’s like forming an alliance, except it’s life and magic binding and allows us to practically destroy entire continents. A long time ago, before I was born, there were the Great Wars of the second age. This was the time of Sauron and Isildur. There was a witch, a man, who was one of three lords of Númenor corrupted by the rings of power. He pledged himself to Sauron, and became the Witch-King of Angmar. Thorin, he did terrible things. He is part of the reason there are so few witches left in the world. He is the reason I don’t mind being alone. If we are capable of such evil, such horrible, heinous acts… maybe it’s a good thing there aren’t many of us.” Neither of us spoke for a while, but I could feel him staring at me. 

“You are not him, Amrâlimê…” 

“I could be. If something happened to you, or to the boys-” I had grown close to them, Fili and Kili. I knew if I let anything happen, I’d do terrible things, I’d be out of my mind. He reached forward, grabbing my hands and pulling me and turning me until I sat with my back against his chest, his thighs on either side of my body. I leaned my head back and he pressed a kiss to my cheek as he wrapped his arms around me. 

“Nothing will happen.” I huffed in response and he kissed my cheek again. “Tell me, what did you and Lord Elrond speak of at dinner? It upset you.” Oh. Right. My face went hot again. 

“He was teasing me about you giving me gifts. Then he brought up Thranduil... That’s what made me upset…” he hummed in understanding. 

“He did not say Thranduil’s name, I would not have known.” This was going to be a tough conversation. I had been worrying that when he found out my relation to Thranduil he would hate me just as he does the Elf king. 

“Atar… it means father in Quenya.” I physically felt him stop moving for a second. 

“Thranduil is your father…?” I shook my head. 

“No, not by blood at least. He took my mother and I in when I was born. He practically raised me, but I haven’t spoken with him in almost 70 years. Not since…” he hugged me tighter. “He just left you, and I…” 

“What happened then is over, Amrâlimê. I do not forgive him, but I do not, for one second, hold you responsible for the actions of your father.” My whole body felt empty, like I was trying to piece a puzzle together after not having all the pieces for years. 

“Can I say something? You might find it hard to hear.” My back was warming with his heat. He hummed a yes, always. 

“Just as you do not hold me to my father’s actions, I don’t not hold you to the expectations that others had for your father.” He went still again. “If things don’t go as planned, if we cannot reclaim the mountain, you cannot work yourself to death trying,” I sat up, turning to face him, “You do enough just trying, your people are happy, and if you have the chance at a good life then that is what you aim for.” His mouth was a hard line, but his eyes held something else. They were narrowed like he was intently listening, but his eyes themselves had a light in them, like he wasn’t upset with what I was saying. 

“If I have a life with you, no matter how long or short or prosperous or poor it may be, if it is with you, then it shall be a good and happy life.” My ears went hot this time as well as my cheeks, and I grinned with crinkled eyes. I pressed my forehead to his with closed eyes. He sighed into it, his whole body relaxing. We sat together for some time, talking about little things here and there, and soon the sun had left us completely, and the moon swept in a cool breeze on glittering silver light. 

 “Come, as much as I love sitting with you, you’re gross, and so am I.” He laughed and hauled us both to our feet, stretching our legs and beginning the long walk to the bathhouses. His ring finger looped with mine as we walked, slowly creeping through the dark halls. We could hear the other company members in the farthest room in the eastern wing of the estate. 

“Seems they’re all having a wonderful time.” I remarked, feeling chills run down my arms as Thorin wrapped a hand around my waist. I smiled and leaned into him, kissing his lips before walking off, slowly leading him down the halls to the bathhouses. We approached the three rooms, men’s, women’s, and the private house to the back. “I’ll be in the one back there.” I pointed all the way down the hall, to the two white double doors. He nodded, leaning down for one more kiss and he was gone, closing the door behind him as he went into the men’s room. As soon as the doors clicked closed I released all the breath from my lungs. I was alone for the first time since Gandalf showed up at my door three months ago. Now that Thorin was gone I felt myself drag, my feet trudging along the stone tiles, and I slowly pried my way into the private bathroom.

It would be more accurate to call the bathroom a bath-hall. The long, rectangular room had high walls with little alcoves carved into silvery stone. An inner row of tall pillars lined the large rectangular pool with an open-air ceiling, moonlight pouring in. There were walls lined with benches and tables, each littered with small vials and bowls, each with their own oils and dried herbs. I stood in the entrance of the room, dazed for a moment. Three months without a proper bathroom and suddenly I forget just how it all works. Muscle memory snaps into motion though, and my feet move me to the nearest bench, slipping off my shoes before walking over to one of the tables, securing two towels and a handful of little bottles. Setting the towels down on the beach by my shoes, I stripped off my clothes, tossing them on the floor without care. Grabbing the bottles, I placed two of them on the edge of the pool. One was Night Blossom scented and was for my body while the other was orchid scented and for my hair. If I was gonna be out there for another 4-6 months without another proper bath, I may as well take advantage of it. Steam rolled off the water, little petals danced on the surface as they fell from the open ceiling. I slipped my foot in, the heat tingling as it warmed my cold skin, but it wasn’t horrible. I eased my way in fully, the water only coming up to my hips. In the center of the pool was a raised block of stone that served as a submerged bench, and I sat so that the water sloshed just above my chest. 

I soaked in the heat, letting my limbs wane from the freezing tingling sensation to a warm buzz. I spent several minutes dipping my hair into the water, scrubbing out the dirt and grime, scrubbing my arms and legs until they were tinted red. I was never one for letting grime build on my person, it just wasn’t comfortable for me. Once I felt clean enough, I moved to the edge where I sat on a bench, leaning back and closed my eyes, letting my body relax once again.

There was knocking at the door. My eyes pried open. My arms felt so warm and loose, I didn’t want to get up. 

“My Lady?” Thorin sounded concerned from the other side of the door. I hummed in response, loud enough that I’m sure he heard it from beyond the door. The door clicked open and I turned, pressing my chest to the wall, hiding behind the edge for some semblance of decency.  I’ve spent 3 months with a group of men in situations where the best bath was a river; total privacy was unheard of at this point. 

“You know, it’s highly indecent for a King to look upon his courtship while they’re in the bath. People will talk.” His lips twitched up into a smirk, eyes narrowed. 

“I believe we’ve passed the point of indecency, Âzyungâl.” I snorted, crossing my arms over the edge and resting my head against them, taking in the picture before me. His hair was down and dripping, the little braids in his hair gone. He was also incredibly shirtless. Water dripped down his shoulders, over his chest, and farther down. I had seen him shirtless before, but only for extremely short periods of time. This was… purposeful. He was only wearing his pants, the hem getting wet as the water kept dripping. I was staring at his pants- I tore my eyes from his figure to meet his eyes. I don’t know what happened to me, but what shyness I once had was crushed by curiosity and bravado. 

“You seem to have already bathed, My King. Will you still join me?” Anxiety turned in my stomach as the words left my mouth. I swear I hadn’t touched the wine from dinner. This was all me. His eyes widened and I felt a cold prick of fear, thinking the worst, but his grin remained, like he couldn’t believe his ears. His thumbs hooked onto the waistband of his pants and my shyness came back with a vengeance. I turned, trying to play off my reddening face by standing and coolly wading away from the edge of the pool just a few feet. I heard him step in, taking to wrapping my arms around my chest for some coverage. 

He walked closer, the water moving around my hips as his hands smoothed over my sides to wrap around me. 

“Is this alright?” His voice gave me chills. I nodded, losing my voice to the wonderful feeling of bare contact. The heat of the water felt like nothing compared to the heat of his chest pressed against my back. I relaxed back into him, his head falling on my shoulder as he relaxed into me in return. His hands ran up and down my sides, moving down to squeeze my hips before moving back up to ghost over my ribs, brushing the underside of my breasts as he did so. I hugged my arms tighter around my chest to stave off the growing want in my lower abdomen. We stayed like that for a while until the water started to cool. 

“Mm…” Thorin grumbled, and I chuckled low in my chest, lowering one of my hands from around my chest, letting my fingers dip into the water and skirt around the surface, moving my hand to create little swirls in the water. Focusing on my own body heat mingling with Thorin’s, the water grew warmer until steam slowly rose from the surface once again. Thorin sighed into my shoulder, placing lingering kisses along my shoulder and up my neck. This time I happily leaned my head away, allowing him access. His hands grabbed my hips hard as he placed open mouthed kisses up my neck, up my jaw, to the spot just behind my ear. This is the first time we’ve been truly alone, no worry of the others coming in, no imminent threat. Just peace. Peace and the throbbing ache between my legs that was slowly driving me crazy. He was driving me crazy. 

I made up my mind quickly. Turning slowly, I moved my hands to hold his face, gently pulling him closer to meet my lips. It was slow at first, gentle and easy, but I got curious again, and began to kiss him a little harder, moving my hands from his jaw to the back of his head. He kissed harder, lips bruising, open mouthed and starving. I tangled my fingers in his hair and hardened my grip, pushing my chest up so that we were pressed against each other. What I can only describe as a short growl came from Thorin as his hands gripped bruisingly on my hips, one lowering to grab the cleft of my rear, lifting me to my tiptoes while the other moved to the small of my back, pressing me further into his chest. I lifted my leg that his hand was holding only a little, enough to hook my knee on his thigh, just enough so that he’d get the idea. 

He pulled his head away and he was looking down at me, eyes dark and gloating. A whimper was startled out of me as his hands reached down and grabbed the back of both of my thighs, hoisting me up to wrap my legs around his waist. I thanked every instinct in me that told me to tighten my core so I wouldn’t fall backwards. Walking over to the left, he sat me on the very edge of the bath. I sat a few inches taller than him on the ledge and it felt dizzying to be looking down at him like this. The water swayed around his hips as he pressed himself between my legs, hands wrapping around my thighs to rub circles to the inside with his thumbs. I placed my own hands on his jaw, tilting his chin up to press my lips to his heavily. He growled against my lips, hands leaving my thighs to thread one of his hands through my hair, tugging the hair at the nape of my neck. The other moved down my body, trailing down my abdomen, over my navel, and pausing above my sex. 

“Jalâ'gul astni azrul 'ala.” Tell me you want this.

“Azrul 'ala, Amrâlimê.” I want this, My Love.

He doesn’t waste his time, callused hand dipping between my legs to press his thumb to my clit. He pressed slow, agonizing circles into the already throbbing nerves and the sharp sensation made my thighs tense around his waist. My head is pulled back, and I hissed as he roughly kissed my neck, then my collarbone, then mouthing over my chest until he wrapped his lips around the bud. I slide my hands from his jaw to the back of his neck, weaving my fingers through his hair. The finger pressed against my clit moved away and I whined until he pressed the pad of his pointer finger against my entrance, slowly sliding his finger in as he continued to lap, suck and nip at my breasts. His hand detangled from my hair and wrapped around my hip, holding me firm as I tried to buck my hips into his hand. It felt incredible, a burning, tight, wonderful feeling that only got stronger. He rolled his tongue and my eyes rolled back. He pulled his hand away for a second only to add his middle finger. His hands were callused and rough, and they were big. 

We shouldn’t be doing this, he’s practically a king, but I didn’t want to stop, not now, not ever. A gasp left my chest as he shifted his hand between my thighs and pressed his thumb against my clit once again. I could feel my body getting hot as he slowly moved his finger in and out of me and his thumb resuming heavy circles. My chest was heaving, eyes heavily lidded and hyper focused on his own. They were a dark, stormy gray-blue, and staring at me, trailing up and down my body. 

“Lay back.” I could feel my heart pick up rapidly as I eased myself back onto my elbows. As I did his hands ran themselves down my back until they firmly grabbed the back of the hips, pulling them to the edge of the pool. I held his gaze, anxiety and desperation mixing into an ugly feeling in my gut. As cool and natural as I seemed at this, I had never actually done it. My only knowledge source was the books I had read, and those can’t prepare you for everything. I was moving based on feeling, want, desire, whatever my body and my mind said felt right. 

“Mahal… you’re perfect.” He was taking in the sight of me, legs spread, body leaned back and open to him. I felt my body shiver as the water on my skin turned cool in the air, nerves spiking. My heart jumped in my throat as he leaned down to place lingering kisses on my hips, taking his time as he made his way lower and lower, kissing my hips, the top of my thighs, the inside of my thighs, all the way down to my knees. I had never, ever, read about this. I’m practically panting, eyes hazy as I watch him worship my thighs. 

“Puitho…” My face flushed as the curse left my lips, staring down into his eyes as he made his way back up. My knees, the inside of my thighs, the tops. I could feel his breath on my sex. His hands tightened on the back of my hips. 

“Tell me… tell me it’s too much and I will stop.” I shook my head so fast I got dizzy. 

“Avo dharo... Please, please, please don’t stop.” It came out like a whine, and I watched as his eyes rolled back, adoring the way I pleaded for him. Thankfully I didn’t have to say anything else because he quickly moved forwards, holding me still as he used the point of his tongue to lick from my entrance up to my clit in one swipe. My whole body tensed at the sharp pleasure, and I fell softly onto my back, hands reaching down to thread into his hair. He repeated it over and over, switching from the point of his tongue to the flat then back again. My back arched, my head pressing against the floor. All too soon he stopped, pressing quick, soft kisses to the very apex of my thighs.

“Ibrêj… you are absolutely perfect.” He said something in Khuzdul, but I didn’t pay any attention to it. I squirmed, my hips twitching in his hands. A startled gasp jolted out of me as he placed a rough kiss to my clit, wrapping his lips around it, sucking and mouthing and smoothing it over with his tongue. He played with me for several seconds, flicking and circling my clit with his tongue until I was squirming worse, desperate to gain something rougher. My heels dug into the pool wall under the water and I was glad for it, because I used that little bit of leverage to move my hips. He growled into my cunt and the sound made my stomach do flips. I whined as he let go of my clit, but I was satisfied again as he ran his tongue along my entrance again, one of his hands sliding over my abdomen to press down on my navel while his thumb pressed on my clit. I was in heaven, truly, my hips twitching but unable to freely move with every sharp tang of pleasure, his tongue playing with my cunt while his thumb played with my clit was absolutely amazing. 

I lost my ability to speak as the tightening pleasure in my navel reduced me to whimpering and short panting breaths. I tugged on his hair, my hips twitching and grinding against his mouth. Low hums of approval came from Thorin. I had never felt this good, not ever. Suddenly a sharp, tight sensation started at the very center of my cunt and it felt like I was getting dizzier with every swipe of his tongue.

“Thorin… ah- puitho- Thorin!” I could hardly think, it was like a match being struck and suddenly my cunt was squeezing around nothing while wave after wave of suffocating pleasure wracked my body. My head fell backwards as my hips twitched and arched off the floor. One after another, it was like my body was tightening and releasing for several seconds. The throbbing sensation dulled slowly until I was drained. When the daze finally cleared, I took an agonizing breath, my whole-body limp on the stone floor. Thorin was still between my legs, softly kissing my thighs. My fingers slowly relaxed in his hair, slowly pulling away. I tried to sit up but found that my body was too tired. From my neck to my arms, my back all the way down to my feet, it was like the energy had been drained out of me.

“Shhh, Amrâlimê.” 

He pulled me up by my hands and my stomach did flips as I reoriented myself. I felt heavy and light at the same time, like my body was void of all energy and my head was void of all thought. He leaned forwards slowly and pressed his lips to mine, and I welcomed him gladly. Whatever that was, I want more. I tried to lean into the kiss but found that I was swaying, my body still low on energy. Maybe later… not right now.

We spent another half hour in the water, in each other’s company, but we did nothing more. He didn’t try to go any further and I didn’t ask him to. What we had already done was enough for now, and he seemed more than satisfied with himself. Almost gloating, his ego was clearly having a field day. After we had dried and dressed in something fairly clean, we make our way to the hall the Elves lent us for a few nights. But the hall was near empty. Not one dwarf or singular hobbit could be found in any of the rooms towards the front of the hall. In fact, all 13 of them were huddled in one room at the very back of the hall.

We sat in the singular room, scattered on the floor and on benches around a fireplace in the far right of the room. To our backs was a balcony looking out across the valley, and far across the room were the two double doors that Dwalin wouldn’t stop watching. I sat on the floor, my back pressed against a column with Thorin at my side. My shoulder jostled as Thorin passed a venison cube to me. Bomber and Ori had been cooking their own food over the fire, making snide little comments about Elvish foods as they passed around pieced of meat and bread. As they spoke, I had food passed to me from every direction; Thorin was passing me food from my left, Ori was handing me food from my right, and Fili and Kili were throwing food over the fire at me. I know Dwarves eat a lot, and Hobbits eat more, so why in Elentári’s name was I being given this much? I let the thought die in my mind as we laughed loudly with each other, joking and trying to ease ourselves before the journey continued. A knock came from the door, and everyone fell deathly silent. I looked to Dwalin and met his eyes as he looked between Thorin and I. Looking to Thorin I gave a near imperceivable nod and Thorin gave Dwalin silent permission to open the door. A tall, lanky blond Elf stood there; his eyes fixed on some unknown focal point in the distance. I can’t tell if its respect or distain that causes this.

“The Lord Elrond requests the audience of Thorin Oakenshield.” No one moved for a moment, all staring at Thorin. With a nod he stood, and Balin, Bilbo, and I stood with him. None of us said anything as we were escorted down the winding halls, down deeper into the Elven estate. We were brought into a chamber hidden under the cliffside, a waterfall pouring from the room above and falling like a curtain over the edge of the room. Unlike other rooms, this one had no columns or railing to indicate where the edge of the floor was. Instead, it was open on the entire back half of the room, looking out without barrier. All I could do was stare out into the sky, the moon lighting up every inch of the room. Something felt… off. Between the time we were called into this room and the moment we walked through the threshold, something pivotal happened. Someone else is in Rivendell.

~~

Piutho: Sindarin for the "Fuck"

Avo dharo: Sindarin for "Don't stop"

Ibrêj: Khuzdul for "Astounding"

@mrsdurin ,@capricorn-anon, @emmapotato88 , @dontaskmehowdontaskmewhy , @eilin-brillewin​ @hpthalia126 , @undecided-about-everything-ever , @dark-chxos, @artemis-the-ace, @floatingintheshire

if you want to be tagged, leave a comment <3

If tags aren't working, I'm so sorry :(

[faerunsbest]

Tav Character Worksheet: Ma'na

(i wasn't sure if you wanted dwylla or the new tav ma'na so im using this to flesh out mana)

with Ma'na i haven't even built her up in bg3 i just built her like Dwylla. with whatever i was capable of doodling and what i know from playing and researching.

as far as tags uhh if you guys wanna play @dutifullylazybread @falcatamandarina @cinnasalmon @commander-krios

thank you elven-e-girl

Name: ma'na its a joke because mages need mana and i made her for rolan! haha i thought it was funny anywho

Age: shes early to late 30's but doesn't actually know how old she is as she doesn't count it or celebrate birthdays.

Gender:female, happily woman although she does not limit herself to 'fem' activities and the like

Sexuality:Bisexual. she find herself attracted to certain features (dark eyes//split tongue//ect) although you can be none of the things she finds attractive and still land her if you make her laugh and feel safe

Pronouns:she/her

Tav voice:n/a

Family:Ma'na is one of 23 children. they are drowe that work mines, there are so many of them for the same reason farmers used to have a million kids. its cheaper to raise em then hire em. She used to be a rather mid worker but was prominent for the sole reason of she

Birthplace: Somwhere between mintar and thornwood there is mine. that mine is where she was born and where she lived her life

Job(s): she has done very little as since she was born she as told her purpose. to work. manual labor, mining, building, digging, demolition and all that comes with helping keep her family up and running

Phobia(s): drowning/suffocating ,nothing terrifies her as much as not being able to just perform the basic task of breathing

Guilty Pleasures:in all honestly she feels guilty about wanting to be wanted for more than she can offer.

she feels guilty about feeling pleasure in her body and her form, things like touching cuddling, kissing fucking and masturbating makes her feel likes shes doing something wrong

Hobbies:singing. sculpting sewing

she sings in the mines and her voice echoes down cold stone keeping people awake, sending chills when you've forgotten shes there.

with all the clay she pulls up from the soil, she pressed her fingers deep appreciating the feel of around her fingers, pressing, pulling stretching and smoothing clay until it resembles someone or something

she loves fixing old clothes, stitching in little pictures to make broken old worn out things feel new and loved still

alignment chaotic good. overall she wants good happy things but people aren't always good and she sometime retaliate with excessive violence or some form of mischief

sins.previous to the nautiloid she didn't have a lot of opportunity to commit any notable sin. even so probably the most notable things shes done is sleep with Dammon when she was supposed to be working. she also kicked the absolute living shit out aradin far past a singular punch

virtues: she does her best to believe people are good and give them a few chances to be good which is why she wont let astarion ascend

This or That?that?

Introverted or extraverted? depends on the day, but mostly extroverted

Organized or disorganized?mostly organized but any more than is useful

Closed or open-minded? forever curious shes quite open minded

Calm, anxious, or restless? calm, theres very little that sirs anxiety in her. shes always very much 'ill either die or i wont'

Disagreeable or agreeable?usually very agreeable as she just wants to enjoy herself

Cautious or reckless? moderately cautious

Patient or impatient? very patient, she willing to wait for good things

Outspoken or reserved?depends on the topic, shes very reserved with gale as she like to let him yammer but with astarion and laezel she feels its incredibly important they know how she feels

Leader or follower? she never lead anything until the nautiloid, as long as she knows what needs to be done she can lead but prefers to just do her part and be done

Empathetic or apathetic?incredibly empathetic

Optimist, pessimist, or realist?somewhere between optimist and realist, as in do the best with what you've got but a person can not expect miracles

Traditional or modern? whatever is easiest and most efficient she has no qualms in either direction

Hardworking or lazy? she will as hard as is needed but no harder than is required

OTP: ma'na and rolan my loves

BROTP:astarion/ ma'na they talk a lot, about things they wish would or wouldn't have happened. when he offers to please her at the grove she catches him outright, stating she wont touch him unless that what he wants, actively wants. he's so thrown off guard they wind up sitting out there talking until its time to leave in the morning

NOTP:SHADOW HEART

they just do not mesh and shart doesn't join them on the mission despite being rescued on the ship

[otakuworks]

Hello! Could I request a f!reader x ludger one shot from the academy's undercover professor where the reader has to take care of ludger after he overexerts himself? Could this be considered a hurt to fluff !

Tysm! I'm rlly new here so I don't know how this works.. I'm sorry for any mistakes!!

❛ 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘. fluff

feat. Ludger x F!Reader | wc. 1.2K

sum. One of the many things you got as perks as Ludger's girlfriend is to see the infamous Professor's vulnerability.

note. i considered this as fluff since ludger throughout the webtoon is just a bright neon sign that says "i'm tired, just give me a hug"

He tells himself he won't be overusing his magic, yet when disaster strikes he always count on his pills to replenish the lost mana he had used to subdue his enemies.

Under normal circumstances, it's just his everyday life as a professor. But when you're in the picture, it's a different story

He was reluctant in crashing in your place, but he had no other choice if he didn't want to totally collapse out of exhaustion.

If he had to endure your earful rant, it's tolerable than passing out in the middle of nowhere. He hopes you won't break up with him the next day though.

"I'm sorry, you're supposed to be resting and you you don't need to do this, but here you are taking care of me." He sighed and relished the temporary bliss of your hands kneading his shoulders.

Truth to be told, it was his fault for disturbing your beauty rest in the midst of the witching hour after his little excursion of eliminating some criminals stirring trouble in the city.

If he really means you don't need to take care of him then he wouldn't have barged in your home. But with the time you spent with him, you know one thing, he always comes back to you.

"Now this is new, you actually know how to apologize?" You teased.

"Don't push your luck." He grumbled, head rested on your chest as he makes subtle eye contact with you from his upside down angle.

He admires you while your eyes caught blood stains on his suit, the fabric is too dark that it hides away the crimson splatter so it wasn't a surprise you only noticed it just now, your face soon contorted in concern, "Ludger, what is—"

"They're not mine." He promptly cut you off and groans when the aching burn in his chest reoccurs, "What's the matter?" Your hands halted from its ministration and intended to reangle his body.

"Just stay." He caught your wrist and places your hand back on his shoulder, indicating for you to resume, "But you're hurting. I want to know what's causing your discomfort." You expressed.

"You don't need to fret over it. Trust me, this happens every once a week or so and I know how to handle myself." He then proceeds to snuggle closer to you, clearly dismissing the topic.

Your only response is your rueful sigh and leaned against the bed frame to support your weight and his.

He did his best to convince you, but when you felt his temperature slowly increasing under your palm, you can't dismiss it any longer.

"You're catching fever, Ludger." You firmly stated.

He was ready for his rebuttal but you shut him down with a glare.

"You're staying here while I fetch for porridge and a medicine." He almost whines when you gently placed his head on the pillow and rushed in the kitchen.

He doesn't feel heavyweighted like a typical feverish person would, but when he checked his temperature boy did he got burned. He deduced he might have gotten it after over exerting his body. It's not an impossible guess considering he deals with teenagers who just hit puberty by day and eradicates foolish criminals by night. If anything, he deserves that sweet resignation letter already.

You emerge minutes later with what you told him and practically commanded him to sit up and eat. All this while, you noticed the slight upturn of his lips, "What are you smirking at?" You perched your eyebrow, nothing good ever comes with his unusual mischief.

"It's delightful to see you worry over me. A mage who every student in the Academy respects and every professor envies. I'm the least person on anyone's mind to be worried about, yet you're here, feeding me porridge in my blood soaked suit."

Your cheeks instantly flamed, that's one out of the three times you ever see him so open about his feelings. But you also know he's doing this to get a reaction from you, which he successfully did.

"If you can talk in that state then I have no doubt no one should be worried about you." You snorted and shoved a spoonful of hot soup in his mouth without a warning and he yelped, almost choking.

"I feel pity for your future patients." He glared at you.

"You should pity yourself first before anyone, now drink." You handed him a glass of water and medicine for his fever.

With one last glare, he complied to your commands, "I followed your instructions, now we cuddle."

You grimaced, "You're sick, I don't want to catch your fever."

"It's only a mild fever caused by overworking, it's not that severe."

"I'll cuddle with you once your temperature goes down. Sleep."

He sighed, "I wonder what the students are going to think if they see me like this." You rolled your eyes, but a sudden lightbulb lit up, "Sleep, or I'll document everything that happened here and sell it to the journalists. You don't want that now, do you?"

He doesn't seem that threatened and only slumped on your bed and was fast asleep after a few minutes.

You decided against your better judgement and joined in to cuddle with him the rest of the night. You could've sworn something soft pecked the top of your head as you sleep overtakes you.

©OTAKUWORKS | 2023

[ishgard]

Send 🐾 to see them with a favourite pet or (animal) mount [for as many of your OCs as you'd like!]

Thank you~!!! <3<3<3

I realized Mana and Ayami have double dupe favorites, so I broke reality and smushed them together! Ayami's buddies are Chiriko (road sparrow) and Senri (fat cat who is basically Nyanko-sensei from Natsume Yuujinchou). Mana's are Sandy the road sparrow, and Muffin the fat cat. Lastly is the most honorable Kero, the whittret Magical Carbuncle.

(Senri and Muffin are telepathically plotting mischief, can you tell?)

(Ahru also has a fat cat named Mochi, but he belongs to the Rising Stones/Revenant's Toll at this point - or they belong to him, rather.)

Arshadaya doesn't really have 'favorites' among his many adopted children, but Aquilo stands out to me. Arsh rescued him as a hatchling from an Ul'dahn noble, (who lost to Arsh at the betting table), and the little creature has been at his side ever since - though, he's not nearly so little anymore.

[FFXIV Screenshot Meme]

[bittersweetcanary]

Dads of the Guide Committee

[Arcana Twilight / Found Family]

NOT A STORY BUT LIKE MY HEAD CANNONS

Inspired by Chat Messages: “Let’s go play” Series ingame.

Everyone being concerned about the number of uncarved crystals Pollux has in jelly jars concerns the Dads and Arcturus. I wonder if there’s something that could be potentially harmful about uncarved magic crystals…

Spica’s like the Dad who takes all the kids out to the Amusement Park, making sure they stay safe and having a bit of fun with them. I love how he teases his “husband”, and the other Guide Committee Dad saying “Are you scared Alpheratz”  which gets Alpheratz to join them!! PFFT!

Alpheratz taking their “son” Arcturus through the haunted house is adorableeeee! Helping him build courage <3 <3

Pollux: 

*serious bear emoji*

“Everyone, try to think it through.”

“It’s impossible to… Be quiet, isn’t it?”

Arcturus: *shocked bear emoji*

Polly justifying their loud parties-

Vega just does not want to take part in any of this at all-

Spica is the Dad that remembers where all his kids leave their things- and his “husband”

THE WHOLE Spica: “I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M ATTRACTED TO ALPHERATZ… IT��S UNBELIEVABLE.” MAKES THEM THE GUIDE COMMITTEE DADS. CONFIRMED. OTP. SHIP IT. 

Spica & Alpheratz: The Guide Committee Dads

Spica the Mother Hen, always makes sure the kids are presentable, well taken care of, and keeping up with their school work while Alpheratz makes sure they are well fed, taking plenty of breaks, and recesses, and maybe a little spoiled.

Spica chasing down Alpheratz like a married couple, one avoiding the serious conversation the other just trying to have it-

Arcturus: Eldest Child

Takes after Spica, he’s always trying to help the others, to the point of straining himself. But he can be teasing.

Summoner: Honorary Eldest Child

Honorary Guide Member to newest yet Eldest Child because they are a bit more responsible than the others- but only when they want to be, otherwise they might just add to the blazing flames. Babies Polly because he’s adorable. Everyone teases Polly over this.

Alpheratz and Spica keep an eye on them, Alpheratz worries about them for the same reason he is worried for Vega, their Mid-Earthiem background means they have naturally lower mana levels than the average Sorcerer which makes healing from wounds or recovering from sickness slower…

Spica sees potential in the Summoner, he wants to encourage them to push themself to the limit(a reasonable limit though), much to Alpheratz’s disapproval, he’d rather they stay out of the Guide Committee’s (sometimes) dangerous outings. This is the serious conversation they never have, other than Alpheratz constantly sleeping through everything-

Vega: Middle Child

Cold but joins in the mischief, often joining the others in teasing Alpheratz. Doesn’t join the others for outings often.

Alpheratz makes sure he is well fed, he’s worried for Vega due to his Mid-Earthiem background and terrible food choices… This boy needs real food, not juice and jelly packets…

Spica knows Vega will follow the Summoner(like a puppy-) and uses that to keep him coming to meetings.

Polly: Baby boy.

A baby. A mischievous as hell baby. Will cause problems on purpose and on accident. Cries easily must be consoled.

Often watched over by Alpheratz while Spica is working- can’t have the baby bothering the working Father. But sometimes- he might just set Polly on Spica for a good laugh.

[mamavino]

Land of Dragongeim and their Dragonriders

My OC land and more for Black clover

DragongeimDragongeim is a cold, rugged land far to the north of the clover kingdom, where blizzards rage for months and the sun barely graces the skies during the winter months. The land is dotted with towering mountains, vast tundras, and deep forests filled with mythical creatures. The people are tough and resilient, having learned to survive in the harshest of conditions. They are a proud race, some are descendants of dragon-riders and warriors who share a bloodline with these mighty creatures. Dragongeim has a rich history of dragon bonding, but the people’s most revered tradition is the preservation of their ancient bloodline—the Dragonblood, which is thought to give them the strength, courage, and power to survive in the unforgiving world. In Dragongeim people are born withou magic, but have a lot of naturale mana. 

The dragon riders: 

Nyxara Rhys(Leader - Pride)

Appearance: Nyxara stands out with her messy blond hair (she got that from her father Julius, our dear wizard king), in a thick braid, and dark gray eyes. Her Viking-like appearance is marked by a robust, athletic build. She often dons practical, battle-ready attire suited for both dragon riding and combat. She’s rarely without a mischievous grin. She wields a self crafted bow and thin arrows, her preferred weapon. The bow allows her to channel her time magic through it, making her strikes both precise and deadly.

Personality: Nyxara is known for her loud and brash demeanor, qualities stemming from her upbringing in a competitive and wild environment. She is highly intelligent and often challenges authority, particularly in relation to her strained relationship with King Alaric. Despite her tough exterior, Nyxara is fiercely loyal and protective of those she cares about.. Her pride comes from her desire to see her team succeed, and she takes their victories personally.

Dragon: Thalorian is a magnificent dragon with shimmering iridescent scales that reflect deep blue and silver hues. His powerful, broad wings make him swift and agile in flight, while his connection with Nyxara enhances both their abilities. When combined with Nyxara’s time magic, the two become an unstoppable force, striking with both precision and elemental fury. Together, they create chaos in the skies, embodying the wrath of a storm and the flow of time.

Roderick (Second-in-command - Greed)

Appearance: Roderick has platinum blond long hair tight half way up. He has a sharp, piercing eye and a lean, athletic build. He wears an eye patch on his right eye. He lost it when he tried to claim a dragon. Despite his serious appearance, he always has a cheery, naughty expression, showing his softer side for those around him.

Personality: Roderick’s greed isn’t for wealth or power—it's for his comrades’ success. He’s constantly pushing the others to be the best version of themselves. A perfectionist at heart, he wants everything and everyone around him to reach their maximum potential. He’s supportive and often acts like an older brother to the group, always nudging them to try harder. His “greed” is for a stronger, united team.

Dragon: Gullinbursti – This golden dragon may look flashy, but its true wealth is in its unwavering loyalty and strength. Roderick and Gullinbursti are a team that always focuses on pushing limits, always wanting more from each other and from the world around them.

Bjorn (Wrath) -The Giant with a Heart of Gold

Appearance: A giant man with a wide, infectious smile, Bjorn’s bright blue eyes twinkle with warmth and mischief. His large frame might be intimidating, but he’s more like a friendly bear who enjoys making others laugh.

Personality: Despite embodying Wrath, Bjorn is one of the most cheerful and laid-back of the group. He loves telling stories, laughing heartily, and making sure everyone around him is happy. His anger only surfaces when his friends or loved ones are in danger. When that happens, the shift from jovial Bjorn to an unstoppable force is shocking to everyone around him.

Dragon: Surtur – A fiery red dragon with a playful streak, Surtur loves to engage in fiery games of strength. However, when the stakes are high, Surtur’s flame and fury match Bjorn’s fierce loyalty to his friends.

Eamon (Sloth) The Lazy Genius

Appearance: A slender man with shaggy brown hair and a perpetually relaxed demeanor. Eamon always looks like he’s about to take a nap, but his eyes sparkle with quiet intelligence.

Personality: Eamon may seem lazy on the surface, but his "sloth" is actually a form of calculated efficiency. He conserves his energy, waiting for the exact right moment to act. Often found lying in a sunny spot, he’ll surprise everyone when he effortlessly solves problems or fights with incredible precision, as though he’s been planning every move while appearing not to care. He’s strategic in a way that keeps everyone guessing.

Dragon: Nidhogg – A slow-moving, massive dragon that mirrors Eamon’s demeanor. But when called upon, Nidhogg shows incredible power and precision, moving in perfect synchronicity with Eamon’s quiet genius.

Cian (Lust) - The Adventurer

Appearance: Charming and roguishly handsome, Cian has tousled brown hair and piercing blue eyes that always seem to be searching for excitement. He dresses casually but confidently, with a constant playful smirk on his face.

Personality: Cian’s “lust” manifests as a love for adventure, fun, and spontaneity rather than romantic pursuits. He’s the life of the party, always encouraging the group to try new things and live life to the fullest. His passion for experiencing new things can get him into trouble, but it also brings a contagious energy to the team. Cian is all about living in the moment and finding joy in every situation.

Dragon: Fjalar – Sleek and graceful, Fjalar is just as restless and curious as Cian, always ready to dart into action or explore the skies for new adventures.

Thorstein (Gluttony) - The Joyful Giant

Appearance: A giant of a man with a hearty laugh and a broad grin, Thorstein’s size is more due to his towering height than weight. He has a jovial face with a thick beard, and he’s always the first to suggest a feast or celebration.

Personality: Thorstein’s "gluttony" is for life itself. He’s not just obsessed with food and drink (though he loves both), but with enjoying every single aspect of living. He’s the one who encourages the group to relax, celebrate victories, and enjoy downtime together. His energy is infectious, and while he may indulge a bit too much at times, he keeps the team's morale high with his constant joy and larger-than-life personality.

Dragon: Jormungandr – A massive, slow-moving dragon with an insatiable appetite, but like Thorstein, Jormungandr is all about living large. Together, they’re a force of nature, bringing joy and chaos in equal measure wherever they go.

Lachlan (Envy) - The Quiet Learner

Appearance: Lachlan is lean, with dark hair and calculating eyes, but he often has a wistful smile on his face. He tends to stay in the background, always watching and learning from others.

Personality: Rather than being consumed by destructive envy, Lachlan’s envy takes the form of admiration. He constantly strives to better himself by studying and imitating the skills of those around him. While he can sometimes feel insecure about his own abilities, he turns that envy into motivation to grow stronger. He is deeply loyal to the team, often downplaying his own role to push others into the spotlight.

Dragon: Fafnir – A stealthy, dark blue dragon that, like Lachlan, is always observing and learning. Fafnir is cunning and strategic, embodying Lachlan’s quiet desire to improve and outwit any challenge.

Team Dynamic:Nyxara leads with pride in her team’s strength, Roderick greedily pushes for their collective greatness, and each rider brings their own unique energy to the group, creating a tight-knit family of dragon riders who can laugh and joke in one moment and rain fire down on their enemies in the next. Their loud, brash dragonblood heritage shines through, but it’s tempered by an unexpected depth in their quirks and motivations.

Rion Thorne - The Bard of the Dragon Riders

Rion Thorne, the flirtatious and charismatic bard of the Dragon Riders, is a master of balancing chaos with his music and charm. Saved by Nyxara, he was adopted into the group as their bard. Though his role is to soothe and uplift, Rion’s playful demeanor masks deeper emotions, particularly when it comes to Cian, the rider of Lust. The bond between them is intense but unspoken, filled with tension and quiet understanding. They ride side by side, and while Rion flirts with everyone else, there’s something more between him and Cian, though neither speaks of it.

As a bard, Rion uses his music to calm the riders, offering comfort during dark times. His songs are his gift and his curse—full of passion, but hiding a deeper melancholy. Rion is more than just a flirt; he’s the emotional anchor of the Dragon Riders, reminding them that even amidst war, there’s room for balance, joy, and reflection.

Royal Bloodline and the Throne Dragongeim’s monarchy is unlike any other. To sit upon the throne, one must possess the legendary blood of dragons. This powerful legacy comes from an ancient pact between the first Dragon rider and a mighty dragon, who bound their fates together. Only those with dragonblood can be at the throne.

Some fun facts about the land 

Bond Beyond Mana: Dragon riders aren't just bonded to their dragons through mana; they also share a unique emotional connection. When one rider is injured, their dragon feels it, and vice versa. This bond is so strong that some riders have even learned to communicate with their dragons through emotions alone, bypassing words.

Draconic Tattoos: Riders who successfully bond with a dragon receive a special tattoo on their skin, often on their arm or back. 

Rider Training: Becoming a dragon rider isn't just about learning to ride. Riders undergo intense physical and mental training to match their dragons' strength. Only those who pass a series of grueling trials, such as enduring the “Trial of Fire” (surviving a fire-breathing test) or “The Sky’s Challenge” (a high-altitude endurance test), are considered worthy of a dragon.

Ancient Dragon Language: Riders are taught an ancient language that was once spoken by dragons. This language, known as Draken, is said to have been passed down from the first dragon-riders. It’s a secret tongue used for commands or spells that even other magic users can't decipher.

Dragon Rider Festival: Every year, the land of Dragonheim holds a grand festival called "The Dance of the Sky" where they showcase their bond with their dragons through aerial stunts, races, and synchronized flying. It’s a spectacle of skill and bravery, where riders and dragons perform together as one unit.

Riders’ Code: Dragon riders follow a strict code of honor. Among the rules is the vow to never use their dragons as weapons of war against innocent villages. Riders are expected to act as protectors, not conquerors, and are taught to respect the land and creatures around them.

Politics of the land - Dragongeim Royal Council:

King Alaric: The King ultimately presides over the council, but the members hold significant sway over their respective domains. While Alaric rules with absolute power, the influence of his advisors shapes the direction of the kingdom. His ability to manage the ambitions and agendas of each council member is a key part of his rule.

Hand of the King (Gunnar Eriksson) Position: Older and Wise Advisor to the King Role: Gunnar is the King's closest and most trusted advisor. He is a man of advanced age with vast experience in statecraft and diplomacy, having served in the court for many years. 

Master of War (Einar Drakensdóttir) Position: The Elder Dragonrider, Military Strategist Role: Einar is Queen Ginevra's cousin and a seasoned dragonrider. His role in the council is to oversee all matters related to war and defense. Einar has fought in numerous battles, both defending the borders from invaders and participating in internal conflicts. 

Master of Coin (Freyja Skjoldsdóttir) Position: Treasurer, Keeper of the Kingdom's Wealth Role: Freyja is responsible for overseeing the kingdom's finances, including taxes, trade, and the allocation of resources. 

Master of Whispers (Haldor Valdisson) Position: Spymaster, Keeper of Secrets Role: Haldor is the King’s most trusted informant and spy. As the Master of Whispers, he controls the flow of information within the kingdom, including secrets, rumors, and intelligence. 

Master of Laws (Bjarne Thorsson) Position: Keeper of the Kingdom’s Laws and Justice Role: Bjarne oversees the kingdom’s legal system and is tasked with ensuring that laws are properly enforced throughout Dragongeim. He is a scholar of ancient laws and customs, interpreting and applying them in modern times. 

Master of Ships (Kjell Hrafnsson) Position: Admiral of the Fleet, Overseer of Naval Power Role: Kjell is responsible for the kingdom’s naval forces, ensuring that Dragongeim's coastlines and trade routes are protected. 

Lord Commander of the Landsguard (Prince Ragnar) Position: Prince and Commander of the Landsguard Role: Prince Ragnar, the King's son, commands the elite Landsguard, the kingdom’s military forces dedicated to protecting the lands from internal and external threats. Ragnar is the kings son is a highly ambitious, often pushing the boundaries of his authority, and he harbors a strong desire to marry Nyxara (who hates him deeply) and solidify his position. 

Grand Maester (Elrik Sigridsson) Position: Scholar, Advisor on Magical and Religious Matters Role: The Grand Maester is the kingdom's foremost scholar, specializing in magic, ancient texts, and religious matters. He provides the council with advice regarding magical phenomena, the history of the dragons, and the kingdom’s spiritual beliefs. 

[yoke9494]

Candy Coated. (Rindou/F.Reader)

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Requested oneshot turned fic. (Rindou /femReader/Izana.) Read the rest on AO3 Wattpad

Attempt at angst

⚠️: MDNI, drinking, being drugged, blood/gore, mean Izana--- Please read first page if you decide to read.

Mitsuya's sister but is not detailed much. Can be read by anyone

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You felt sick...

The week felt like it dragged on forever. Your mother picked up double shifts leaving you to watch over your younger siblings. Though they could take care of themselves, you always felt that guilt leaving them alone. Especially when Luna and Mana liked to bother Mitsuya who's been working so hard trying to gain a scholarship to attend his dream school.

**Some fashion schooling in France? You weren't completely sure but you hoped he'd make it..

Not only was home life hitting hard but work killed you as well. You worked part time at a small bakery. Thankful of the old woman who gave you the job so you could help out with bills but... She would not drop the subject of you leaving home and pursuing your own schooling for your "baking talents."

You laughed at the idea.. You weren't perfect. Sure your  simple cookies and chocolates could put a seasoned baker to shame but you yourself could never see it. You saw the good in everyone and everything but you just couldn't see yourself in that same light.

It was something your friends called "the Mitsuya effect". It was also something your boyfriend Rindou liked to tease you about. Supposedly you didn't need to try to be perfect, you just were.. (You weren't though? Or so you thought..)

All you did was try your best at everything that was placed in front of you? But to everyone,sunshine and rainbows just fell out of your ass. It was exhausting...

It was exhausting and made your smile falter. Something Rindou hated seeing... That's why when life got a little too heavy for you, Rin was always dragging you off somewhere to get your mind off of thing.

You had really hoped it was a night in. He'd kick Ran out of their house for a few hours, you'd both watch a movie or something. The both of you would make dinner together and fall asleep in each other's arms...

But this was not one of his finest "date" ideas... You really tried not to blame him. But you didn't understand why coming to a big party that was thrown by Hanma Suji of all people caught his interest.

Rindou told you to let loose, have a couple of drinks, take a few bong hits or pop a few mollies... He'd keep his eyes on you and make sure you were safe.

You knew he would, he always did. But getting drunk and high wasn't your thing? You preached to both Luna, Mana, and Takashi on the dangers of drugs, you weren't going to be a hypocrite.. You knew Rin and Ran had fun but it wasn't excessive.

You stuck to some mixed drink that Ran handed you. He promised it was mostly cranberry juice since he knew you weren't much of a drinker. He may have put an extra shot or two of vodka but it was just enough to get your stressed muscles loose. You kept his little bro happy so of course he cared for you... But he wasn't going to mother you.

Your nose scrunched up as you drunk the red liquid. Completely oblivious to the way Rindou was watching you. His hand sneaking around you waist to keep you close, his eyes blown like a puppy in love.. A small rare smile tugged at his lips when you shook your head at the strong taste.

"Oh my God Ran! Did you pour half the bottle in here?!"

Both brothers laughed before Rindou kissed the side of your head. He'd get pissed at his brother later, but this was a night you needed. Tomorrow he'd take you out and spoil you rotten, whether you liked it or not.

Rindou leaned back and grabbed his cup off one of the small tables by the couches you all sat on. You were so engulfed into a story some girl was telling about Ran's old highschool mischief, probably waiting to see if he would be mentioned. You didn't see the face Rindou made when he downed the rest of his cup.

His drink tasted a little bitter all of a sudden? Maybe if he wasn't giving you "fuck me eyes". He would have seen the girl he couldn't stand walk by and drop something into his drink. He would have looked around the room and seen her staring you down like you were some type of disgusting being.

If you weren't such a lightweight you'd notice her too... A bitter female by the name of Tola. She's hated you for no good reason. Just the fact that you supposedly take everything from her...

You took Rindou, when it was he who asked you out on a date. You turned him down 4 times before you even said yes. He just wasn't interested in anyone else.

The job at the bakery? You took that too! She had experience but you came in and the owner fell in love with your stupid face and fake ass smile... You had a sweetness to you while Tola had a face that permanently looked annoyed.

You were worshipped in school, You had siblings who saw you as GOD, despite already having Rindou you had boys vow they would marry you... You were a bitch and she was the only one who saw it!

For Rindou the room started getting a little fuzzy. He usually didn't get buzzed this fast? He wasn't even planning on drinking a lot? Just one drink while he let you blow off some steam.. What was happening?

Maybe it was because he didn't eat much today? Yeah, that was it... He had a few cookies you made him and continued on with his business. Before he knew it, it was time to pick you up from work.

You felt Rindou pat your thigh. He leaned in to tell you he was going to the restroom and was going to raid Hanma's pantry for something to eat. If he couldn't find anything you both would leave to go eat something..

That was all fine with you. The house was getting hot with all the bodies flooding in. Plus all the smoke was making it a little hard to breathe. Maybe it wasn't too late for your movie date after all?

Ran began to go on about something and you tried to listen. It had been 5 minutes and Rindou still hasn't walked down the stairs... Maybe it wasn't that type of bathroom break? Maybe he needed to drop a duce?

10 minutes went by....

20 minutes.....

30?... 38..

Was he feeling okay? Maybe you should go and check on him? Ran had left with the girl from earlier so that left you alone for a good few minutes. The small buzz from your drink had faded thanks to you only drinking one gulp and finding actual water...

You got up and headed for the stairs. Hopefully he didn't pass out on the toilet.. You'd have to find Ran for help, the older Haitani wouldn't let his little brother forget it.

Once you reached the top you nearly turned back from all the bodies crowding the hallways. Maybe you just missed him?

Suddenly the left side of your body got warm. The smell of weed, hard alcohol, and a little throw up made you want to gag.

You noticed the tattooed hands right away. You weren't really a fan of Hanma, too much chaos in one person. But either way you smiled at him, hoping he'd help you out so you and your boyfriend could leave faster.

You had to scream over the loud music. "Hey Hanma! Great party! have you seen Rindou?!"

His smile almost dropped. "Huh?! Weren't you just with him? I was going to ask what happened?!--Rindou bust a nut too fast?! I could lend you a hand but---" He pointed to a room down the hall.

Hanma loves drama! But he quickly turned to get away from the scene. He felt nothing when girls cried, there fault for picking assholes to fuck with... But he wasn't really looking forward to seeing a Mitsuya cry. Something about that just felt wrong. It would definitely ruin his high..

Your mind was breaking. At first it tried to stay blank. That voice told you Rindou wasn't like that, Ran sure! But not your Rindou..

You mind played all your dates and hangouts in one go. You hand reached for the door..

You could hardly hear anything but when the beat of the music changed you could faintly hear low grunting and high moans..

You shouldn't, Hanma was wrong. You were about to walk into some strangers enjoying one another.

But your brain knew better than your heart... Your brain pushed your legs forward, it made the muscles in your arm turn the knob and slightly step in.

Like a thousand glowing knives pierced through your heart... Your heart told you to look away! Your brain told you to run in there and beat both of them till they stopped breathing.

That wasn't you... Only use your fist to protect those you love.. Right now it was hate and hurt taking over you body. You needed to leave!

You slammed the door but the sounds kept going. They didn't hear a thing!

You face burned as the tears rolled.down your cheeks. Your chest felt tight and your legs felt weak. It was so hot in this damn house! Why couldn't you breathe?!!

You Ran down the halls and tried to make your way out of the sea of people. All seeing your tears fall and hearing the small hiccups leaving your pretty lips.

Most girls gasped at your hurt, having been there too. Some guys and girls felt sorry... Some felt a small sense of humor in it..

Either way you completely ignored the shoulder you just bumped into. You ignored the yell of your name as you passed Ran like he was invincible.

Were you crying? Who does he have to kill? Where was Rindou? Was he already killing he asshole or bitch that hurt you?!

Ran raced back upstairs to see where his brother was. He probably had you run to the car while he dealt with the problem. You were probably sober already so you'd play as their get away driver.

Instead of finding a crowd, instead of hearing the sweet sound of knuckles splitting flesh. He walked up to a few girls whispering instead...

"Was that Mitsuya? Poor girl.."

"That's what she gets for trying to always be little miss perfect. Guess it took a Haitani to humble her."

"That's so mean! What did she do to you?"

"I wonder who he dumped her for? Y/n's really sweet--, I would never if she was my girlfriend..."

"I bet she's model pretty for him to cheat like that?"

"Doubt it."

Ran had to stop and take a second before he turned back to face them. He looked at the girls like they were crazy -- What the fuck were they talking about? Cheating?! Rindou's love sick ass? "Where the fuck is he?"

The girls all stiffened up but quickly pointed at the door on the far left.

Ran wasn't as graceful as you. He slammed the door wide open. Leaving a clear view for everyone out in the halls..

Some chick with the same colored hair bounced her flat ass on top of Rindou. For once in his life Ran felt ashamed of his little brother. He wasn't like this?...

Rindou had his eyes shut tight. His speech was slurred but he could make out your name leaving his mouth followed by small I love you's ... That's when Ran knew something wasn't right.

He'd never put his hand son a woman but he felt no guilt when he grabbed the girl by her hair and tossed her skank ass to the side.

She hit the ground with a loud *THUD* and screamed.

Rindou's eyes shot open. He couldn't wrap his brain around what was happening? Where did you go? Was that your scream?

Whatever Tola out in his drink made his movements delayed. His vision started spinning and he leaned over the bed and began to throw up..

Ran ignored the girls screaming and shook her like a doll. "What the fuck did you give him you little bitch!?"

He dropped the girl when Rindou began to groan. His brother needed him but--

"Y/n?.. Y/n I don't feel right.. I-- baby, I think we need to leave."

Rindou didn't understand that the person helping him get dressed and up wasn't you. It was his older brother...

You were long gone by now..

------------------------------------------

You ignored everything and everyone as you left the house. Which way was home? You couldn't think right---

"Y/n?! What's wrong? Are you okay?!"

You felt your body get turned around. Two separate pair of eyes looked at you with worry. A set of yellow and a set of green.

It took you a minute to say a word. It was so hard to catch your breath. "Rindou-- he, Some girl in the room."

That was all they needed to know. Yuzuha had to hold Senju back by her jacket. She had murder in her eyes..

They'd kick his bitch ass later. Right now you needed them. Your eyes were puffy from crying and the way your breathing was.. Not I lay were you heartbroken but you were having a panic attack... It was all too much that your body didn't know how to handle it.

Yuzuha shook her head and dragged you to her car. She wasn't going to come to this stupid party but Senju convinced her to come out. She had heard gossip that both Haitani's were here so that meant a high chance you were too! It was supposed to end with them surprising you and stealing you away from Rindou to go dance and have fun..

Ever since you started working and dating the younger Haitani, they hardly saw you... They didn't want to see you like this.

Senju held you in the back seat while you cried on her. Yuzuha drove around for hours, playing all your favorite songs just to try and calm you down.

Eventually your tears seemed to run out while you told them the entire story.

It took everything in the female Shiba to not turn the car around and find Rindou to run him over. How could he?!

Senju was already planning on stealing Sanzu's Katana and paying him a visit...

But you came first.

--------------

Little did you know Rindou had sobered up a bit after throwing up all the alcohol and whatever drug was used on him. He frantically walked around his home trying to get you to answer at least one call, one text!

Little did he know that when you bumped into his brother, your phone fell out of your pocket and cracked as it cartwheeled down the stairs before being stepped on by some drunk dude. It still laid in Hanma's house, completely trashed..

Rindou could feel his eyes water. Your voicemail was now full of his messages, he's left about 100 texts...

Just one more time. He'll try one more time.

"Y/n... Please."

**The voicemail you have reached is currently full.**

He gritted his teeth and squeezed the damn thing.

"Please Y/n.. just please."

**The voicemail you have reached is currently fu--**

"FUCK!"

Ran walked in and dodged the flying device just in time. He looked at the small dent in the wall and the shattered phone before looking back at his brother.

Ran's never been heartbroken before. He doesn't even chase his liquor, let alone women. But seeing his brother like this made him never want to fall in love.

He wanted to say something along the lines of... "Get under another one? More fish in the sea?--" He didn't want to admit he was scared that he lost you too.. his sister.. the future mother of all his nieces and nephews..

Instead he walked up to ran who had slumped himself onto their couch. His head buried in his hands.

Rindou jumped when he felt Ran's hand on his shoulder. "Shit! What if shes trying to call me right now? Ran give me your phone."

The older Haitani shook his head. He knew you weren't trying to call...

"Rin, just give her some time to cool down--"

"Fuck you-- I'm gonna go to her hou--"

Ran pulled him back down. "Listen to me.. Just give her some time. Y/n isn't unreasonable when her mind is in the right place. Shell understand when we explain everything.-- Tell you what. In the morning we'll come up with an apology, along with the explanation. Get her some flowers, something shiney? You need rest and so dose she."

Rindou probably shouldn't have listened to Ran's advice. Don't get it wrong, it was good advice! But the problem is, Rindou's heartbreak was a little different than yours. The longer he waited, the more he thought you hated him. The more he thought you hated him, the more he became hesitant to knock on your door...

Would it be too late when he finally gave in because he missed you too much?

Flowers shaking in his hand from nerves. The chocolate you loved so much already ate because he found himself stress eating on the way here. The black box that held the bracelet you were saving up for gripped tight in his free hand, knuckles white, box crumbling in on itself from the pressure..

Sadly it wasn't you who answered the door....

..................

[ardenssolis]

@nvrcmplt said (inbox):

Fingers trail over Ramses' hand, the marking of summoning hummed underneath but so easily witnessed by his eyes. A powerful thing this, keeping Ramses in this time it seemed but also a leash to keep him under check? Tyler wasn't sure he liked that idea but he wasn't in this War thing, the other was involved in. "It's interesting, I'll tell you that. To reverse study it would probably take me years... Does it hurt or anything?" He was as gentle as he could be in touching it and whatnot, not shy in turning the others hand over to seek out anything more. When finished though, Tyler did link their fingers in the excuse of holding their hand up to stare at the difference in skin tones, sizes and marked and non-marked. "Does it tell your summoner, was it? Where you are?"

OZYMANDIAS WOULD NEVER CEASE being amused by Tyler’s fascination with his being. It was to be expected, of course, that he would be. After all, to say that the calling of a Servant was a miracle in itself would simply not be enough to explain just how difficult it was for such a feat. Even the greatest of mages would never hold the amount of mana to do so, and considering the state of the world nowadays, there was not enough in the air to be channeled. Not like when the gods were far more prevalent in the world; when fanciful tale was not so fanciful to those who had lived. ❝Ahaha, you would not be the first one. Such magic has been of great interest to mages for quite some time. At least, that is what I have gleamed from my summoner.❞ The process itself was simple, they had told him. Dull. Unexciting. It was everything beyond that which held their attention. They sought the root of all magic much like the other mages in this hidden war. A foolish endeavor that bored Ozymandias who saw it as something that should remain unknowable and outside of human reach.

      However, he cared little for what his summoner intended to do at the end of it all. That folly was for those of this era to deal with. Tyler, though…was nothing like them. He seemed so content where he was. There was no hunger that drove him forward in the same manner. It…fascinated Ozymandias – continued to do so even after all this time. As fingers danced across his skin, so warm and soft in comparison to the callous of his warrior’s digits, he hummed, eyes half-lidded like that of a content feline. ❝No, it does not hurt. The only annoyance I experience, is going too far from my summoner makes me considerably weaker. My body starts to fade – a reminder that I cannot wander.❞ A long, dramatic sigh passed his lips, then. The very thought of having to rely on another so undesirable, yet unavoidable. As his hand was taken into the other’s, he paused for a moment, golden eyes shifting to fall upon where fingers entwined with an odd, pensive quiet. He had forgotten what such a gesture was like.

     He was a distant king – born to be seen as the embodiment of divine favor, and with that fearful awe came a sense of loneliness. How peculiar it was, that nowadays, that gnawing feeling seemed so far away. ❝I can feel them better than they can feel me, but due to their command seals they have on their hand, as long as I remain physical like this and not my spirit form, they can tell that I am not too far.❞ A grin tugged the corners of his lips; teasing, and light, as he learned in slightly with familiar mischief within the brightness of his eyes. ❝What a shame that we do not share in such a similar connection. Though, considering how reckless you were when I initially met you, perhaps it is for the best that we do not. I would wonder what foolishness you were up to each time I feel something remiss.❞

[flightheory]

records show that HWA SOHWI is a 27 year old WEREDEER who has lived in yeonghae for A FEW MONTHS. they are currently a TICKET BOOTH ATTENDANT at the BUTTERFLY THEATER, but other parts of their reputation must precede them — their faint aura of PALE SUNGLOW, or how they remind others of THE FIRST FEATHERS OFF WAX WINGS and RESTLESSNESS ITCHING BENEATH SKIN. — (kim hyeyoon, she/her, ICARIAN in BLOOD TIES)

hi, you can call me ruvi (21+, she/her) and i bring sohwi, weredeer who once dreamed of being a witch and now simply dreams of being human again, if only it didn't come with a demand for blood on her hands. you can find her info and connections below, like the post to plot and i'll send a message here or send you my disc ♡

sohwi grows up quite human, with all the longing to be something more than that as humanity is wont to do, even when her birthplace is removed from the rift and magic and all the realities of what that entails. when she's nine, someone from the woods tells her about magic, mana, and those who have them. they even show her the broomstick they arrived on. she's just young enough to believe them, and old enough to know there must be explanations and how-tos for it.

so she goes looking, when she's old enough. she doesn't find a fairytale. it's quite the opposite, because she got turned 3 years ago. this is a big plot point that i'm leaving open as a wanted connection for plotting, but suffice to say it's a traumatic experience for her. she learns, not by choice, that a herbivore isn't necessarily harmless when she's on the goring end of their antlers—and when she's the beast itself soon after.

she ends up running from her birthplace with her sibling, seeking refuge or revenge or something else, anything to outrun the animal under her skin now. (she's also filling in for the turned sibling in the river runs red subplot!) their travels have taken them to yeonghae, one way or another, with a darkspawn picked up along the way from one night of desperation and helplessness.

she summoned serpentine out of anger/confusion and to fix things, to give her magic and power the way she had thought it ought to be like, and agreed too quickly to their deal. i think she's desperate enough to have been willing to kill but too naive to know what that actually means.

keeps trying to get her humanity back, but this might be a sisyphean task for her. either way, she's working in the most mundane spots of yeonghae, listening to stories at the theatre and wishing for simpler times (and trying to meet serpentine's condition).

sohwi is sweet and naive, but life experiences have turned her sharp. tends to have a quick tongue now to guard her heart, though she still gets carried away with good mischief and easy promises. kinder than she has the resources to be. she makes hasty choices on naivete or idealism, despite the fact that she should know better by now, and tends to regret them.

wanted connections

companions on witching hours, or someone similarly superstitious/magic loving

possibly the sorcerer/magic species who inspired her witching aspirations

a reprieve from being monstrous. human again for a moment

a reminder that she still is a werebeast, perhaps an acceptance for that side of her

an old friend who can't reconcile who she is now with who they remember

believer of the deer god who's mistaken her for it

comfort that helps keep away the loneliness. sometimes she wants to be seen (and sometimes she doesn't, make of that what you will)

a sensing that she's not as sweet or human as she seems, which unsettles her

the sun to her moon heart (pining from afar!)

[candycryptids]

58. How many hobbies have they attempted to have over their lifetime? Is there a common theme?

For whomever you please! Multiples of 'em if you like! Give us the hobby lore!

>:3!!!!!! Rolling this ask around my enclosure like a pumpkin full of ground beef! So I actually covered Mochiie’s hobbies earlier today- [Here] so I’ll cover some others ùwú! (Full of mischief)

Ishi’li’s hobbies are messy because of his origins: they enjoyed solving Sudoku’s, and playing games, which I’d count as hobbies, but in Eorzea his old hobbies don’t hold up, cos…. Nobody makes Sudoku puzzles… and Games straight up don’t exist, to my knowledge. But he DOES learn to haggle and trade and help run business numbers. He actually genuinely enjoys math (it’s why he picks up Arcanist XD) ….. hm.. He picks up painting, after visiting the First, and subsequently Elpis, and possibly photography (Me and Zombiesock are toying with creation magic making essentially a Sheikah Slate, because due to how we shook out events Ishi is the only one of the cadre of WoL’s to actually be able to go to Elpis and they get frustrated at an inability to show it to everyone else, lmao.) … There’s not much of a common theme, they just like Learning stuff, especially if it can be applied to helping the team, (like Astrology, which is picked up, but kind of as a side gig to everything else that’s going on.) … and honestly it leans heavily into Magic, because it’s unique and interesting even if there’s a constant battle to keep up enough Mana to use it lmfao.

Tuesday likes reading (History, Cookbooks, Travel Guides, YA Short Story Romance), and cooking, even if he can’t like… taste the food he makes for some time (not sure when he gets taste but ah! He shall someday :) ) which means he’s always in need of taste testers- but not Chuu. Who is a walking nightmare for food. (If it’s not easily eaten one handed in some fashion she’s not eating it. She’s been TRYING to care more about what her food tastes like but mostly the fact that she’s gaining weight and eating 3x a day + snacks is an improvement. She LIKES archon loaf. Anyways-) he likes experimenting with textures and smells and spices, so finding people that will eat it and provide feedback is. Nice. He also finds lots of joy in little repeating tasks like, spinning/weaving, and learning to make his own fabrics and garments opens up a whole other world. He’s already out gathering stuff, or shopping, so. Making clothes is it’s own sort of rewarding (and it makes Keathan. So excited, actually. That Tuesday is creating something. For himself???) … I think most of his hobbies stem from a desire to. Find? He’s grasping for what it means to be an Individual and trying stuff and customizing himself in little ways.

🤔 Hobby lore… I’m tryna think if I got anything else interesting knocking around up here. Oh!

Tangy used to have a hobby doing whittling, nothing too crazy, cos she was v small, but it was practice using a knife so she could be more confident later in life when she’d need to skin+ clean game, y’know. …. aaaand then it got lost in the haze of everything Pre 1.0, so she hasn’t done it since, but I like to think if she picked up a little knife in NOT kitchen settings she’d feel some muscle memory kick in for it. Nowadays she likes bird watching, and sooometimes fishing, though there’s not much to catch outside the waking sands that’s suuuper worth eating, she catches lots of small fry… and sometimes a sunburn. Right across the bridge of her snout. Dreadful. I like to think sometime between ARR and Heavensward she starts making little woven jewelry pieces- bracelets and hair ties mostly, but, it keeps her hands occupied and she can always unravel them again and do it over later. So long as she doesn’t give it to someone- if she catches someone leaving she’ll tie a woven bracelet around their wrist and very seriously tell them to come back in one piece. (🤔 Training in hand-to-hand doesn’t really feel like a hobby in Eorzea, where it can be your whole job…. And sorta IS, her job… it’s her main class anyways ahaha. So I’m gonna leave that one off.) …. I don’t think there’s a common theme here aside from being time-fillers that a person can do anywhere without a lot of stuff to do it with 🤔

[Oddly Specific ?’s for if you wanna take a crack at it!]

[look-oc-prompts]

FFXIV Whump Prompts

Morbol Breath

Living Dead

Seduced/Charmed

Aether Sickness

Ice Shard

Unstable Cerulean

Blood Drain

Devoured

Calamity

Poisoned Arrow

Tempered

Barbed Lance

Voidfire

Cleaved

Airship Crash

Miasma

Dragonbreath

Under-sand Ambush

Windburn

Ghimlyt Dark

Meteor

Woodsin

Collapsing Ruins

Held for Ransom

Magitek Lazer

Sin Eater

Goldbile

Fae Mischief

Flare

Ricochet

Coerl Attack

Bodysnatched

Cerulean Eye

Heavy Fog

Steam Burn

Bloody Banquet

Red Throat

Out of Mana

Human Shield

Aerial Combat

Coerthan Blizzard

Painflare

Garlean Assassin

The Vault

Drowned

Ritual Sacrifice

Healer Down

Ancient Curse

Night Terror

Doom

Ultima Thule

Delirium

Attack Hounds

Petrification/Paralysis

Eye for an Eye

Down for the Count

Sea Monster

Ransacked Village

Holy

Nausea

Lost in a Labyrinth

Marked as Prey

Final Sting

Blasphemy

Thorny Vines

Quicksand

Spiked Drink

Blue Death Flu

Wasteland on Foot

Zantetsuken

(You can read about various diseases mentioned as prompts here!) (While many of these reference specific spells/events/creatures/etc, you're welcome to take creative liberty with the interpretation of different prompts)