#or whatever the magical realm equivalent is

[dept-of-monster-affairs]

A Sea-Gift

???!merfolk (Ko'loch) x f!reader

Word Count: 5725

Contains: light yandere, possessive behavior, drowning, near reader death, oviposition/egg laying, possible Stockholm Syndrome

After being swept across a Rift while on vacation, you find yourself on a deserted island, and a merfolk is helping you to survive. The only trouble is that he thinks you are a gift from the sea and belong to him.

This story occurs in the Bahamas (its magical realm equivalent at least) and references creatures from indigenous Taino mythology. Tales of merfolk exist in many cultures, including Caribbean and Taino legends. The merfolk lore in this story is not meant to represent these legends but is created for my own purposes.

Calming waves lapped at the shore. The sun shone down upon you. A gentle breeze blew in off the sea. The palm trees provided the perfect amount of shade. Now, if only you were here on vacation and not stranded on an unknown island with no sign of sentient life.

You had been out on a dolphin spotting tour, while on your actual vacation in the Bahamas, when suddenly a whirlpool appeared beneath your vessel. The helmsman had struggled to keep the ship upright by fighting against the current. But the tourboat had started to tilt. You shouldn’t have tried to be a hero, but you had seen an older woman start to fall off. Grabbing her, you had lost your footing the moment after she was pulled to safety, toppling over the edge.

The next couple of minutes were a blur as you were pulled into the depths of the whirlpool. Perhaps the sea had been asking for a sacrifice as moment you were sucked under the water the turmoil ceased. Your life jacket helped your body rise to safety, or else you would have drowned for certain. The hours after were a blur as you swam to shore. At some point, you felt exhaustion overtake you, your mind went black, but eventually you came to on a beach. No signs of mortal life. Then you realized what had happened.

A rift. You had been pulled through the Veil by a random rift! Fucking Bermuda Triangle!

Gods, what was even here on the island with you? Thanks to colonialism, so many of the native monsters of these islands that would be found across the Veil were completely unknown, not to mention all of the ones that the enslaved people and the colonizers imported with their stories. And here you were all alone. 

At least, you hoped you were alone. You swore you felt eyes watching you from the water. Whatever it was hadn’t gotten you in your feverish swim to safety, though. Maybe it was just paranoia.

You had survived the night, curled up against the roots of some trees, having eaten some mangos you found nearby. Now the sun had risen, and it was time to figure out what to do.

You were no survivalist but you knew the basics from watching shows and movies. First you needed clean, fresh water. After spending all day swimming you were partched. You didn’t want to travel too far inland yet and risk getting lost but if this island was close in shape and size to the one you were staying at it might have a river in a similar location as well. 

As you walked along the coast you swore you felt eyes on you again. Not from the jungle but the sea. Every so often you heard a large splash out in the water. You started to get the dreadful feeling that something was hunting you. 

After an hour’s walk, you found what you were looking for. Eagerly, you cupped the water in your hands, drinking it down in hurried gulps. Alright, now that you had found fresh water, you needed a steady food source and shelter. On your walk, the island had been ripe with fruit, so you weren’t worried about food, and in the temperate climate…Suddenly, a bush rustled across the river. 

You gasped and scurried away from the river’s edge, hiding behind some trees. You heard something small dart through the undergrowth and disappear deeper into the jungle. Breathing out in relief, you took a moment to gather yourself. It was fine. You were fine. Everything was going to be okay--Another large splash just off the coast. Then another, even closer to shore.

Freezing in terror, you sank against the trees, trying to hide in the roots. 

Closer and closer the sound came until the splash was interrupted by sand. It had reached the shore. After a few moments though the splashes returned moving away before silencing altogether.

You waited a long minute before poking your head around the trees to look at the coast. Nothing. No. There was something sitting on the shore just past the wave line.

Cautiously approaching, you saw a palm leaf that wasn’t there before, on top of which was a pile of oysters. It looked like an offering of some sort. It was best not to touch it, or else you might upset whatever creature it was for. Hopefully, there wasn’t a spirit in the river, and you had just insulted it or something.

Hurrying away, you were a minute away from the offering when a massive splash caught your attention. Looking to the ocean, you saw a glittering shape launch out of the water and land on the beach in front of you. You fell back in surprise, landing on your ass.

A dark grey merfolk with vibrant blue and green markings, carrying a spear, blocked the path in front of you. “Een awraki hudaro mi’i?!” It looked angry. 

You stared at it silently, mouth gaping like a fish. It repeated the words, the language coming out like a hiss.

“I’m sorry! I don’t understand,” you cried, still on the ground. The monster looked down at you, the apparent anger fading into confusion.

“Een tulu com’ni’i?”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry,” you repeated. “I crossed the Veil accidentally. I don--”

With surprising speed, the merfolk rushed forward. Its massive body loomed over yours. It was twice your size at least. Its scale covered arms rippled with muscle. You tried to scramble back, but it grabbed your wrists and pressed you against the sand. It covered your mouth with its own and bit down, its sharp teeth tearing through your lower lip. You struggled as it pulled back, your blood on its lips.

It licked your blood off and grinned. Then, after biting its own lower lip, it pushed your mouth together again. The thin, fish blood dripped against your stubbornly closed lips. The merfolk growled and shoved its tongue in, forcing your mouth open and letting the blood seep down your throat.

The merfolk pulled back again. You struggled some more, tears pouring down your face. “Jut’a! Een tulu…understand? Present not-me understand?”

You blinked. Did it just speak your language? “Y-yes,” you replied carefully, your lower lip swelling from its bite.

“Appeasement. Present this-one understand not-me.” Whatever rudimentary translation spell the merfolk had cast certainly wasn’t perfect. But you were understanding its words at the very least.

“Can you release me, please?”

“Future-not land-swim not-me.” It took half a moment to realize what it was saying. Do not run.

“I promise. I won’t run.”

The merfolk stared unblinkingly into your eyes before slowly releasing your wrists. It pulled back, letting you rise from the ground. Carefully, you stood. The merfolk’s head was at your shoulders even when you were on your feet. It was massive. Yet, you felt safer now. If this thing had wanted to kill you, it would and easily could have.

“This-one amends regret,” it said poking at its lower lip before pulling a small leaf from a belt of pouches around its waist. It broke the leaf, revealing a gooey inside. Like aloe, you presumed taking the leaf and dabbing it on your lower lip. You felt the blood stem, and a tingling dulled the pain. The merfolk smiled, revealing its jagged, sharp teeth.

“Thank you. Have you been following me?”

“Yes. Past this-one hunt lusca. Next-past appear not-me surprise this-one. Past this-one aid not-me direction land. This one desire-understand reason. Present desire-understand human.”

It took another moment to piece together what it was saying. It was hunting, you appeared before it, it was curious and helped you to shore. It was still curious. “I was on a boat. A whirlpool appeared and I fell inside. Then I arrived here. I come from the world of humans not this world.”

This time, it looked at you for a long moment. Likely, the translation spell was poor on each end. Finally, it replied. “Sea decide not-me gift. This-one accept sea gift. Not-me reject this-one gift motivation?”

Again, it took you a moment. It thought you were a gift? And wanted to know why you rejected their gift? “The oysters were for me?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry, I did not know. I didn’t want to steal. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

The merfolk scoffed. “Not-me kind same-time idiot. Future survival means present steal.”

“Then I will steal in the future.”

“No. Steal not. Present to future this-one provide. Sea-gift welcome. This-one protect Sea-gift.”

“My name is not Sea-gift. I am--” The merfolk pressed a finger to your lips, causing the wound to sting.

“Past name gone. Present name be Sea-gift.” The merfolk undulated its tail, rising up so it towered above you now. “Present Sea-gift belong to Ko’loch.”

It had been about a month since you had fallen to the other side of the Veil. A month since Ko’loch had decided you were his property. Oh, yes, it was a him now. Merfolk gender may be non-existent so far as humans could understand, but if that creature could decide you belonged to it because you appeared in its territory, then you were going to decide what pronouns to use for it. Only a man would be as possessive as this thing was under the guise that it was protecting and providing for you.

Still, at least you weren’t struggling to survive. Ko’loch brought you the bounty of the sea, fish, crabs, oysters, and edible seaweed. There must have been a few shipwrecks in the area and debris from a rift, as he also brought you random bits of carved wood, jewels, and brightly colored plastic trash. After his outburst at ignoring the first gift, you had decided not to ignore Ko’loch’s gifts to you, whether food or decoration. So far, there had been no other incidents where you felt your life was in danger.

Some people may question why you didn’t move away from the shore, but to you, the answer was obvious. You had no idea what was in the interior of the island. Not to mention, if any help was to come, you wanted to be visible and ready. Though he didn’t know it, Ko’loch’s colorful gifts were making a perfect signal that sentient life was on this island.

“Sea-gift!” Ko’loch’s voice rang out across the waves. He had returned from his hunt.

“Coming,” you called out, heading from the shade to the set of flat rocks that jutted out like a natural dock, which Ko’loch and you had decided were the best place to meet. You could stay dry, and he didn’t need to haul himself across the sand.

“Sea-gift, I have found strange things for you,” he told you proudly. The translation magic he had cast had slowly learned over the past week, allowing you to communicate more normally. Abstract ideas and more complicated thoughts were still difficult to translate. You had tried to explain the concept of the Veil and the human world, but you were pretty sure he ended up thinking you were from the heavens.

“What are they,” you asked curiously, sitting down on the rocks at the edge of the water. From the depths below, he pulled out a crochet-style bright orange beach bag. Inside was a plastic shovel, a sand bucket, a straw sun hat, and goggles. Then, from behind his back, he produced a small cooler. 

“This is like a clam,” he exclaimed happily as he lifted the cooler lid. Inside were several bottles of beer. Astonished you reached out. They were all still cold. Ice cold.

“Ko’loch, where did you find these,” you asked, barely believing what you were seeing. These were all very modern; it looked like someone lost their beach supplies all at once. And if these beers were still cold, they must have been recently pulled through a rift.

“They were floating in the water near where I found you. The sea must want you to have them.”

“Was there anything else,” you asked excitedly. “Any other humans?”

Ko’loch stared at you before shaking his head. “No. Just these.”

You tried to swallow your disappointment, but you knew it showed on your face. Ko’loch reached out a massive hand, cupping your face. “These things make you sad. Why?”

“No, no, I am not sad about the things. Thank you. I just thought…I thought there might be someone to…” You stopped before you could say rescue you. “To keep me company while you are out and help me on land.”

Ko’loch was silent, his webbed hands stroked your hair, his claws gently scraping your scalp. “You are lonely. I know being lonely. That is why I ask the sea for a companion, and the sea gave me you.”

Pity grew in your chest. Merfolk were social creatures just like humans; they lived in shoals and had a complex society that humans were just learning to comprehend. You had wondered before why Ko’loch was the only merfolk you saw. What happened to the others for him to have been alone?

Staring down at Ko’loch’s dark, human-like eyes, you reached out as well. For the first time, willingly touching him. Your hand reciprocated his movements, sliding over the tiny, delicate scales of his face. Your fingers trailed up to the folded fins on his head that mimicked hair. The fins flexed at your touch. Ko’loch made a pleasured clicking noise, almost like a dolphin, as he leaned into your touch.

“I’m sorry you have been alone,” you told him truthfully.

“It is not your fault. Why do you apologize?”

“I feel sympathy,” you corrected, another flaw of the translating magic, “I feel sadness for you, Ko’loch.”

“I do not want Sea-gift to be sad.” He pulled away, his hand dragging down your arm to take your hand. “Come. You told me you wanted to see dolphins. Let me show you. Make you feel better?”

You froze. He had offered this before when you first tried to explain what a vacation was and what you were doing before falling into the water. That had only been a few days after your arrival, when you trusted Ko’loch less than you did now. You had declined then. Yet, at this point, you did trust that Ko’loch would not intentionally harm you.

“Alright,” you agreed. “Let me put these away first.”

He nodded and let you go. You gathered up the gifts and put them in your shelter before undressing. You didn’t need the seawater to ruin your clothes faster. Grabbing the goggles, you went to the rocks. Ko’loch was nowhere to be found.

“Ko’loch,” you called out, slapping the top of the water to send a signal underneath. A few minutes passed before you saw a dark shape rising from below. Ko’loch’s head broke the surface, and he smiled.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting. I had to find them. Come.” He reached out his hand for yours. Sitting on the edge of the rock, you put your feet in the water. It was cool compared to the beating sun, but not cold. Taking Ko’loch’s hand, you slid into the water. 

“Hold on,” you told him as he made to guide you. You wet the goggles and dipped your head underwater before putting them on. Ko’loch tilted his head curiously and leaned in to examine the goggles.

“They will help me see underwater, or else the ocean water hurts my eyes,” you explained.

“You look funny,” he chuckled, tapping on the edge of the goggles with a claw. Pulling away, he guided you behind his back. “Hold on to me, Sea-gift.”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, being careful not to press too hard on the lowered dorsal fin along his spine. The water shifted around you as his powerful tail went from keeping him in place to moving you both forward. Ko’loch kept his upper body close to the surface so you could breathe as you traveled.

His path brought you past the river you used as a drinking source and up around the other side of the island. As you traveled, you got the best view of the island that you had so far. Two sweeping hills covered in dark green jungle contrasted with pristine sandy white beaches. It was beautiful—far more beautiful than the tourist-trap dotted landscape on the human plane.

Ko’loch finally stopped after a few minutes of swimming. Looking down into the crystal clear water, you saw a rainbow coral reef stretching out below you. Lowering his head into the water, you could feel Ko’loch’s chest vibrate as he called out underwater. A moment passed, then, twenty feet out in front of you, there was a splash. You watched as a bottle-nosed dolphin burst from the water. Then another and another. A whole pod danced before you.

You gasped and laughed in amazement. They swam forward, circling around you, clicking and squeaking. “Hold your breath,” Ko’loch instructed.

You took a deep breath right before he dived below the surface. The dolphins followed, twirling around you both. It was now that you realized how huge Ko’loch actually was. The dolphins were twice your length, but as you looked down Ko’loch’s back to the end of his tail, he was three times as long as you were tall. You had never known that merfolk could get this big.

After half a minute, you tapped Ko’loch on the shoulder. He kept swimming forward. You tapped again, feeling a strain in your lungs. Nothing.

Releasing Ko’loch’s shoulders, you pushed yourself up toward the surface. A hand grabbed your ankle and dragged you back down. Ko’loch stared at you in the water as bubbles escaped your nose. You kicked your legs trying to surface while clasping a hand over your mouth, trying not to breathe in.

“Trust me, Sea-gift,” he told you, grabbing your hand and pulling it away from your mouth. In the water, his voice came forth as a song, wrapping around you like magic, calming you. “I will not let you come to harm.”

Maybe it was the lack of oxygen, but your heart fluttered as he cupped your head in his hands. Ko’loch pressed his lips to yours. His large tongue worked its way inside, forcing your mouth open. You expected water to rush in, but his firm lips formed a seal around your mouth. He breathed into your mouth, air rushing into your lungs. It was more air than you should be able to hold in your lungs, but as he pulled away, you felt different. You did not have to think about holding your breath; you simply did so.

“There,” Ko’loch said satisfactorily, “now you can hold your breath forever.”

You gave him an angry look and pushed him away ineffectively. The dolphins around you chirped as if laughing. Ko’loch looked properly chided, though. “It only works on humans about to drown. I am sorry, Sea-gift.”

A baby dolphin came up and forced itself between you as if to break the tension. It rubbed against Ko’loch like a cat, and he petted it, smiling at you once more. Despite yourself, you felt the anger melt away. Over this past month, you realized that Ko’loch was sort of an idiot. He had no idea how to really interact with or care for humans. 

Ko’loch reached out and took your hand, placing it on the dolphin. As you stroked the dolphin, you looked up at Ko’loch. He was watching you intently, a worried expression on his face. Yet, when he saw you glance at him, he smiled eagerly. You couldn’t help but smile back.

Two weeks after swimming with dolphins, things had changed considerably between you and Ko’loch. He spent hours with you now, curled up on the rocks or the beach. Oftentimes, he was just there, occasionally asking questions about what you were doing. He didn’t understand the idea of cooking food and had initially been offended when he found out that you were roasting the fish he brought you over a fire.

You had tried to ask him about other merfolk and why he had been alone, but he clammed up every time you brought up the subject. The more time he spent out of the water, the more you realized how heavily scared he was. You had to wonder if that had something to do with it.

When the two of you weren’t talking, or having him just watch you, Ko’loch was teaching you skills. He had shown you how to weave vines into a net and find the medicinal leaves. He had made you a necklace of shark teeth and pearls. You had repurposed some of the plastic and the caps from the beers he had brought you and made him a necklace in return.

But today, Ko’loch had been acting oddly. He was fidgety. Instead of calmly watching you and listening to you talk, he stared at you while shifting in the sand. Sometimes it was like he was trying to keep close to you, yet at other times, it was like he was trying to keep away. The sun was setting, and usually, he would have returned to the ocean to eat by now, but he stayed on land with you. Fidgeting.

“What is wrong with you,” you finally asked, exasperated as you walked past him, and he released a low groan while sniffing the air.

“I am sorry, Sea-gift, I…” He sounded like he was in pain, causing you to freeze.

“Do you need water? Are you sick?” You approached, worried. 

Ko’loch reached out a hand and pushed you back. His fins flared out, making him seem even larger. His eyes were pitch black like a shark's. “Stay back!” 

His roar sent a flock of birds in the trees flying. Without thinking, you broke into a run. Disappearing into the jungle. 

You ran and ran until you couldn’t anymore. Your heart was pounding, and your lungs ached. You fell against a tree, barely able to see as the sunlight vanished. What had you just done? What had been wrong with Ko’loch? Your mind raced with questions, but ended on one: what were you going to do?

You were in the middle of the untamed jungle. Making your way back would be dangerous. Staying here would potentially be more dangerous.

A few tears escaped from your eyes, and a couple of moments later, they turned into sobs. You were done. You had survived for a month and a half on this god-forsaken island, and you just wanted to go home. 

The hoot of an owl made you jump, breaking you from your sorrow. The owl hooted again a massive white figure landed from the trees in front of you. It was an owl, sort of. It was three feet tall with an owl’s body and face, but set in its face were glowing red eyes. On its rear was a long monkey tail with a pair of talon-like arms under its wings. It hooted again, cocking its head looking at your curiously.

“I’m sorry if I am encroaching on your territory,” you told it, knowing it probably wouldn’t understand you. You reached up and removed the necklace Ko’loch had given you; you held it out to the creature in offering. “I am lost. Do you know a safe area?”

It hooted again. One of its creepy talon arms reached out and took the necklace. It examined the necklace, then hooted again. Hopping around, it disappeared into the brush. You stared for a long moment before it returned and gave an annoyed hoot. Oh, it wanted you to follow it.

You carefully picked your way through the brush. Moonlight from a full moon peeked through the canopy, helping to light your path. You followed the owl-thing for a good ten minutes until you heard running water. The river.

The jungle opened up to a clearing. You were at the edge of a deep cenote that fed the river, full-moon light making the surface sparkle. The creature stood at the water’s edge and hooted again. You approached. “Thank you very much. I…”

It threw the necklace into the water.

“What? Why did you--” Your words were cut off as the owl-thing jumped up, its feet striking your chest as it pushed you straight into the water. You sputtered as you gathered your senses. The creature was gone. The strength of the blow had forced you several feet back into the water. What the fuck?!

You swam toward the shore when suddenly something wrapped around your foot. Oh no. No! 

You had just enough time to take a breath before you were pulled under the water. In the darkness, you could not see what had you, but you felt the long, strong tentacles grabbing onto your limbs and pulling you down into the depths.

No! NO!

You struggled and fought for the surface. Somehow, it was worse that you weren’t struggling for breath due to Ko’loch’s magic. The quick peace of drowning was denied to you. All you could do was fight against the growing reality of being eaten alive. 

Before your eyes, you saw the necklace floating in the water. Highlighted just enough by the moonlight reflected in the water. You reached out with your free hand and grabbed it. It wasn’t useful, it wouldn’t save your life, but if you were going to die, you wanted to do so with a memento of the last person to care for you. The person, you now realized, that you had come to care for, despite everything.

As pressure from the water grew and surface, you opened your mouth and released your breath. “Ko’loch.” The last word you said before water flooded your lungs.

Your consciousness was fading, but on its edge, a fearsome screech reached your ears. A powerful creature forced past you, diving into the deep. “Sea-gift is mine!”

Suddenly, the force pulling you down vanished. Whatever was happening in the depths below turned the water around you. The drive to survive re-ignited. You kicked your legs, swimming to the surface. You were so deep, though. Your eardrums felt like they were about to burst. Your water-filled lungs burned for air. 

A long, flailing tentacle struck you, causing you to spin in the water. The water around you was clouded with blood. Blocking your view of the moonlight. You were no longer sure which direction to swim. Your body was reaching its limit.

Clawed hands gripped your face. A mouth pressed against yours. Life-giving air forced the water from your lungs. Ko’loch carried you in his arms towards the surface. You were barely clinging to life. 

He held you in his arms as you broke the water. “Please, Sea-gift. Wake up. I’m sorry, I wasn’t faster. Not again. Please.”

Cool water dripped from his skin onto your face. His voice was distant and fading. You were so tired, it would be so easy to go to sleep...Then hot, salty water touched your skin, rolling down your cheeks, into your mouth. Tears.

Your injuries healed, your body brought back from the brink of death. Merfolk tears, one of the most powerful healing magics to exist. Your eyes fluttered open. Ko’loch’s scales sparkled under the moonlight. The necklace was still in your hand as you reached up and touched his face. Pulling yourself up, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. His grip tightened around you needily.

“Thank you,” you told him when you pulled away.

“I will always protect you, Sea-gift,” he restated with a sad smile. 

“How did you find me?”

“The necklace, I can sense where you are when you wear it in the water…and if you are in danger or not.”

That owl creature. Had it known or was it just luck? Ko’loch swam down river, still holding you in his arms. You didn’t fight, using the time to rest. In the moonlight, you saw he had a new gash across his cheek from the battle.

“Why did you run,” Ko’loch asked after several minutes of silence.

“You scared me. I thought you were going to attack me. What was wrong with you?”

Ko’loch looked away, ashamed. “It is the full moon, Sea-gift, and the waters have cooled. Nature calls me to…and I can smell it on you, Sea-gift. It is your nature’s time as well.”

You blinked, putting together what he was saying. “You want to mate with me.”

“Yes.” His response was a growl of desire, his arms tightening around you even more, but he shook his head to clear it. “The fight took the edge off the need for now. I shouldn’t have been around you today, but I didn’t want you to be lonely again. When we get to your nest, I will go until this passes in a couple of days.”

The two of you fell into silence until you arrived at the rocks that acted as your meeting place. Ko’loch placed you on the flat rock, his claws trailing along your skin as he let go. Without saying a word, he sank beneath the waves and disappeared. You sat there for a long moment before standing up. Walking to the beach, you were halfway to your shelter when you stopped and looked back at the sea.

Before you could change your mind, you stripped. Tossing your ruined clothes toward your shelter. Putting the necklace around your neck, you strode back to the rocks. Taking a deep breath, dove into the water below. 

It took a long minute before you saw Ko’loch’s head peek out from the water. He slowly swam toward you like a shark stalking a seal. In the darkness, you now saw the blue parts of his scales glowed with bioluminescent light. Upon reaching you, he rose from the water, his eyes pitch black, his fins raised—a mating display.

“Get back on land,” he commanded, “I cannot control myself much longer. I will pin you against these rocks and completely claim you as mine, Sea-gift.”

“I know,” you told him calmly.

He sprang forward. His arms clutching the stone on either side of your head, his body pressed against yours. Ko’loch lowered his head, and you could feel the yearning tension with every word he spoke into your ear. “Go now or you will never be free of me as I know you long to be.”

You shifted your body, opening your legs to rest on either side of his waist. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders. You spoke breathily into his ear. “I’m yours.”

There was no moment of triumph for Ko’loch that you had finally accepted you were his—just the raw animalistic need to mate.

Ko’loch sank his teeth into your shoulder with a growl. You cried out in pain, yet even so, you felt a spark of pleasure with it. His hands gripped your thighs. The two small spines by his wrist pierced your skin. There wasn’t even time to feel the pain before your body flooded with heat. 

Your nipples brushed against his scales. Your clit ground against his slit. You moaned with pleasure, the aphrodisiac setting you on edge. “Make Sea-gift feel good. My Sea-gift. My treasure. My mate.” 

You nuzzled his shoulder, needily pressing your lips against his scales. Opening your mouth, you bit him, your human teeth barely able to break through his tough skin. Ko’loch sighed with pleasure, his claws sank into your ass. He had claimed you. You had claimed him.

You felt something large and hot poke against your stomach. Ko’loch adjusted your body, lining up his member with your greedy hole. Slowly, he pressed it into you. As its massive size stretched you, your walls clenched around it. You screamed with pleasure. 

“More,” you moaned needily, “more.”

“Yes,” Ko’loch agreed. “All of me. Take all of me.”

He continued to force his large member into you. You felt a pressure, a deep internal pressure against your cervix. Then a pop as the tip of his member entered your womb. You gasped. It should have been painful, but the aphrodisiac made your body interpret it all as pleasure. So much pleasure to have your mate hilted inside of you. Your brain was barely able to form a thought besides needing more.

Ko’loch bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “You will look so beautiful filled with my eggs.”

Your stretched walls twitched. With a sigh of pleasure, Ko’loch’s body undulated in the water. He turned onto his back, your body straddling him, locked in place by his ovipositor. Then you felt it. Moving down the shaft inside of you, approaching your womb. It slowed near your cervix, as if teasing you. Then it slipped inside. 

You cried out in pleasure, your moans echoing across the waves. Egg and after egg was deposited inside of you. Each one extending your orgasm until you were past orgasm. Your mind was a blank canvas being painted with the pleasure of mating.

Your stomach swelled with eggs. Tears rolled down your cheeks from the ecstasy. “Last one, my Treasure,” Ko’loch groaned. “I know you can take it.”

The last egg pushed down his ovipositor slower than the first. It inched into you, squeezing into your stuffed womb. You whimpered, overstimulated. Ko’loch stroked your legs. “Good mate. Full of my eggs.”

Slowly, he lifted you off his ovipositor. You groaned and shook your head no, you didn’t want the pleasure to end. He hushed you, and a moment later, you felt something else pressing against you. Smaller and not as firm as the ovipositor, but you sank onto the member with pleasure. Your hips rolled creating ripples in the water as his sticky cum filled you. It seeped into your womb fertilizing the eggs and filled your cunt sealing everything inside.

Finally, after countless orgasms, your body was spent. Ko’loch caught you before you collapsed. He guided you onto your back so you were resting against his chest. Your turgid belly stuck up into the air. Reaching forward, you rubbed it, feeling the many bulges inside. Ko’loch placed his hand on top of yours. He vocalized clicks to express his happiness.

“Sleep, my treasure,” Ko’loch told you, his other hand stroking your hair. “I will protect you.”

The two Taino creatures in this story mentioned are the Lusca and the Chickcharney.

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You can read more about merfolk gender/sex lore in my world here, but summarized, merfolk go back and forth based on societal need. Ko'loch is intersex atm because there are no other merfolk around, but he still needs a mate to host the eggs.

Wondering about Ko'loch's pronouns situation? Basically, merfolk don't have gendered pronouns. As the author, I didn't want to use it/its the whole time, and they/them didn't feel right for the character to me, so I went with he/him for the reasons in the text.

[littjara-mirrorlake]

Nonexhaustive list of creatures I don't think should be able to get compleated

Because it's been 2 years since MOM but I'm still critiquing the biology in it anyway

Spirits and other immaterial beings I firmly believe, and this was fairly consistent in canon until MOM, that Phyrexian oil works on two fronts: physical and mnemonic. That's it. The oil can convert tissues or metal that it physically touches, and it is a vehicle of information transfer that can bend minds toward whatever ideology is contained in it--i.e. the will of Yawgmoth or Elesh Norn. Canon used to be very specific that Phyrexian oil can convert metal to flesh and vice versa. Nothing in there about spiritual creatures--or the fabric of funeral shrouds, for that matter.

Elementals Similar reasoning. Elementals are made of neither metal nor flesh, and should not be able to get converted.

Aetherborn, Kaldheim changelings Listed together because I believe they are extremely similar subtypes of the same creature. Aetherborn are made of aether, and changelings are thought to be made of the stuff of the Cosmos--Kaldheim's local equivalent of the Blind Eternities. Just as Phyrexian oil is largely incompatible with the retention of the aether soul in a creature that is compleated, I can't imagine that it plays well with the physiology of a mostly-or-completely aether creature. There's a chance this was actually confirmed or hinted at in Consuming Aetherborn, though it's likely they weren't literally drinking Phyrexian oil. There are no Kaldheim changelings in MOM so at least I don't have that to pick on.

Cosmos monsters, eldrazi Like aetherborn and changelings, I am listing these together because I believe they are analogous, just on different scales (the planar/interrealm scale vs. the Multiversal scale). They are eldritch plane-eaters that exist in the space between realms/planes, which is commonly known as the Blind Eternities. Like aetherborn and changelings they are not truly physical beings but projections of the Eternities. They should not be able to get affected by Phyrexian oil.

Most gods Similar logic to those above, but with a significant exception. Gods that I think can get compleated are those 1) heavily influenced by mortal belief (Theros) or 2) those who are basically mortals but with magical augmentation (Kaldheim). These are affected by the mnemonic and physical axes of action of the Phyrexian oil, respectively. This is one thing that I actually think MOM did right in portraying Phyrexia's approach to Theros, though it would've also been wild and surprisingly plausible to see a Yawgmoth Resurrected.

I'm withholding judgement on Capenna angels, because I don't know (and haven't speculated) enough about the actual biology of how their bodies produce and retain Halo, but this also does strike me as odd. I had always thought that Halo was some kind of angelic essence that could be extracted from the bodies of angels, and it "running out" doesn't make the most sense to me.

And then there are random, seemingly completely regular creatures that can resist--and enjoy consuming--Phyrexian oil. I have no explanation for this, but they seem to be having a pretty good time. Maybe Yargle is immaterial-spirit enough to resist it?

[2d-reality]

Little Things (The Prince of Demons)

characters: Diavolo, GN!MC navigation: Diavolo | Barbatos | Simeon | Solomon | Luke | Thirteen content/warnings: little things you do, out of love. dateables edition! fluff. could be read as platonic but why would u word count: 862 notes: Alas, Dia is the only one I have finished as of now on account of how my work/life balance has been absolutely wacked recently. I'll get around to the rest eventually, I promise! I have bits and pieces here and there but the dateables don't flow as easy as the boys. Mephis will likely not be included bc I'm not even vaguely familiar with his character, and because we are both horse girls and he is my bitter rival on principle. I stared at this piece a lot but did I edit it? no

Diavolo was a lonely man. He knew a lonely childhood, tucked away in the Demon King’s palace with only the grounds staff as company. He attended lessons alone as he grew up learning what it would take to shoulder his father’s throne once he came of age. When the reigning monarch fell into his dreamless slumber, Diavolo had effectively lost yet another lifeline to anything resembling a normal existence-- a parent. As a young man (or, rather, the demon equivalent of a young man), surrounded by nobility of all kinds vying for his attention, he knew they only saw Diavolo, the Crown Prince. Even the brothers, who were the closest to being considered his friends, played along with his antics out of duty. No doubt Lucifer drilled it into them to be accommodating. 

Sometimes he felt as though he was cursed-- paying for his original sin by bearing his existence, at the end of the day, alone. 

That was, at least, until you came along. You, so small and fierce and human. You, who upon meeting him at the beginning of your tenure as an exchange student, held his gaze squarely and didn’t back down, even when he could practically smell your fear.

You, who for whatever reason, be it ignorance or sheer, unmitigated gall or something else entirely, didn’t for a moment treat him any differently than any other demon you met. Once you were comfortable living among magical beings, it was as if the floodgates opened. Despite horrified reactions from Lucifer and gentle chiding from Barbatos, you told him when his jokes were stupid (even if you still laughed), slapped his arm companionably when greeting him, and called him by a myriad of silly nicknames. 

Your friendship is the most precious thing Diavolo has ever received in his long life. You aren’t one of his subjects, born to defer to him whether you wanted to or not. You aren’t an angel, who gave him a cautious respect for the good of your realms’ relations. You didn’t even know he existed before you came to the Devildom. You chose not to see the heir to the throne, and instead saw Diavolo-- a gentle giant with more love in his heart than he was born to carry. Diavolo, who would go to the ends of all three realms for those he cared for. Diavolo, who was loud and boisterous and always wanted to be involved. Diavolo, who liked cigar cookies and video games and could be a bit of a goofball. 

He cherishes every aspect of your relationship. He loves when you send him blurry photos of various pairs of objects or animals you see when out and about, with the caption "us fr <3”. He loves getting links to dumb memes in the middle of the night, followed by laughing emojis or “this u??” You poke fun at him, bite back with quips when he makes jokes at your expense, and play silly little pranks on him. His favorite is when you gesture to something on his coat, only to flick the tip of his nose when he looks down to investigate. He’d long since caught on to that ruse, among others, but your bright smile and chirping laughter when you teased him for falling for it yet again are too precious to him to not play along.

He even appreciates the times that you turn down his invitations to spend the weekend at the palace with him, citing exhaustion from the brothers’ antics or pressing schoolwork from RAD. You’re not automatically agreeing simply because you have no choice-- you spend your limited, precious time on him because you want to. More often than not you made up for declining by showing up entirely unannounced some time later, cloaked beneath a spell to shield you from Barbatos’ sixth sense for his Lord getting up to shenanigans, beckoning him to sneak out with you to suck on thick milkshakes in some cramped corner booth and giggle conspiratorially like a couple of misbehaving teenagers. 

When he’s around you, Diavolo feels like he can breathe. He doesn’t have to worry about keeping up appearances. You aren’t looking for political sway, or funding, or an elevated social status. For the first time in his life, he can set aside his heavy burden and feel... normal. He can ruffle your hair, and only half-heartedly hold you back from practically climbing him to dig your knuckles into his scalp and return the favor. He can laugh when you swat at his hand as he reaches across your plate to steal a few of your fries. He wears the friendship bracelet you braided for him at all times. He considered charming it to never fade or fray, but when it finally falls apart from wear, your mock exasperation when you tell him you’ll make him another makes him feel so real. 

Diavolo was a lonely man. But now, he has a friend. A genuine, honest-to-goodness friend. You have matching contact photos, and inside jokes. You don’t call him my lord when he comes up in conversation; it’s always my friend. Now, thanks to you, he isn’t lonely anymore.

[gazeofseer]

Universe is Infinite Darkness to find the Definite, hence there breathes an ocean full of stars and realms to ignite the gleaming light in a Life"

~}^°§| Pick a Pile }^°§|~

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Image. 1 : 'Mystical charm is a matter of debate, but ask a person who is themselves like one, who sheds multiple skins as the night takes turns beneath the days, the most awakened ones torn by the fate, but lives in a state of trance and melancholy where they see life and death at the same sight you are that one right?

Nice to meet you I never thought people could be wonderful too unless I reached to your energy a subtle leader who holds the world with their presence the chaos you soothe for your peace, your rage is as profound as the seamstress you are of Whatever is found..

Well I had a note from your spirits granny's favourite, and Mommy issues being as an trait you could match your vibe easily with men not because you are maneater or they see you as an damsel in distress too dumb to be shown and preyed so many concave your presence no my dear, you are the scapegoat a ones by the divine not for the world but to be in the world for the world, your purpose is clear your intent is too, what makes us worry is the way you feel alone, we keep showing up like day before yesterday in the market..? Find us in your tears, find us in your pain we are always speaking especially when you keep holding those volcanoes within the calmest demure of oceanic scenes -

With Love Granny.

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Image.2 : 'Oh the mess you create my love, as if all the complexity finds its ends in your simplicity, I see you know exactly what to do, when to do and how to do, my righteous queen, be at ease when things go wrong maybe, maybe someone is correcting you too, stop seeing life as a perception see it for the way your do it, live it, being one.

I guess you would have known by now whom am I right? Well I feel so little in front of you because your energy belongs to those of stars and the moon the divine one, this is your demon speaking....sacred huh? I know you aren't rather you are excited and challenged to meet people, to visit places that helps you to set up your own stage and create the magic that you are..

Like a jinx of your victory, I enter to annoy your darkness as it is my place and to soothe your aches and anxious hands with my alluring kisses leaving room for more space so you realise change is not an idea but it lies in you, I will be the cheerleader, the critic, the liar for you to be true in your nature I am your base to the extreme you are..I am your rewarding love for the resilience within you

- In Regards Your Spouse

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Image.3 : Lost? Is that even a world which has yet to find its terms of reality? My favourite warrior out there the vantage you reside in is my gift using it for battle is equivalent to your choice of using it to experience my existence even underneath the lies you found yourself around..

You are right life is daunting may death cut that, but what lies next is far more haunting for your soul to suffer from and I won't let you die till you fulfill the life I gave you my child.

If I have cursed you is for you to earn the blessings attested to the same, I am not playing nor will I let anyone play with you have faith and know whatever is led is come from my hands and walk towards it like you always do closing your eyes, seeing the light and attaining it by becoming one is you key.

You are the fire that walks with both the fire and burns, ashes and smoke there are two things you are one of all the contrasts you the main character you are the movie I have written quite proudly.

- Universe

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Image.4 : Escape is my second name, I know that what lies and what not was never a matter of bother because I speak through my existence, knowing my every move, being awakened and stretched to every inch of my soul and breathe, like the wind I do, and like the water I ground,

I am the memory of a life already lived, many of it adds to the ones I am living right now my journey is unique, different and beyond the queer or crowd because silence never settled in definite spaces rather moves the infinite space itself, I am the dust falling of your hands, I am hope walking through your feet it is my free will, And I am not pricing it for anything or anyone else ever or ever and never.

Life and fate are the players and my competitors they long like the shore for my heart beats thudding with grace of waves, I am not death nor life, nor an idea not a thing that can be said and ceased to believe I am a life happening millions in a while and once in billion time and I will make it to the savor of it like chosen one I volunteered my name to the divines and demons everyone forgets it's the damsel who enthroned as a queen, certainly.

- Yourself ( Ancestor )

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'Source is the one we all are connected with finding a way to it is always unique and why we millions of energies are distorted into uncountable ones to thrive towards' - S

Ps : Let me know did you find yours? ☘️🫁

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[cursedwithcaution]

Ooh! I'd love to hear more about your thought process when planning out Hunter's mindscape in Finding Palismen e.g. the different-coloured trees, ambience/vibes. Do share with us :D

Hunter's mindscape has been one of my favorite parts of writing Finding Palismen I have so many thoughts this may be more than you were asking for lol

[MAJOR spoilers for Finding Palismen obviously so if you haven't read it and you want to go do that first hehe]

This is specifically about the mindscape sections in chapters 56-58, not chapters 62-63, but I can talk about those chapters in specific if anyone's interested.

Inspiration was largely taken from Over the Garden Wall, some from mindscapery in Gravity Falls.

There's a significant water motif happening in the mindscape. It's raining in multiple places. There's an area that's mostly water. In Finding Palismen, Hunter has a lot of drowning-related dreams, and that carries on into his mindscape.

Hunter's dialogue and internal monologue vary between different areas. Over all, he's slightly more unfiltered than he is in real life, speaking more bluntly and not really able to stop himself from saying whatever comes into his head.

Very spoilery explanations of each layer below~

Layer 0: “Hey guys,” I said. “Welcome to my brain!”

The empty field of fog and whispers outside the wall. This is where Amity and Luz find themselves when they first go in. The wall is representative of the way he tries to protect other people from his memories.

Layer 1: “Well?” I said. “I don’t think Belos is hanging out on the magic of friendship floor, so we should probably get a move on.”

Essentially the forest of friendship. There are both red and green trees representing memories of the demon realm and the human realm, respectively. The lighting is equivalent to dusk/twilight time of day. He's wearing the full version of his O'Bailey cosplay. While these are mostly positive memories made since meeting Flapjack and his friends (including his initial rocky meetings with Luz and Amity), deeper in there are also memories of him hurting himself. That's what leads to the door that leads to the next layer.

Layer 2: In all the memories here, I was in uniform, masked in almost all of them. I braced myself for the inevitable appearance of the Emperor in the images, but he never showed up.

Golden Guard (public perception edition). When Hunter and Lumity go down the stairs, there's a series of voices repeating any name or nickname of Hunter's besides Hunter (except one but we'll get to that). He ends up in the GG uniform and picks up the snark and attitude of that persona as they go through. The trees are red and twisted tight, obscuring the sky or whatever is above. This is where he hears Flapjack (rather, this is where Flapjack finds him, but things don't exactly go smoothly).

Layer 3: I moved on, unable to keep myself from looking at other memories. Not all the images were as clear as that one. Seeing myself in that expressionless mask, I knew it was me. I did those things. I did anything for him.

Golden Guard (self-perception edition aka self-loathing edition). Memories of the worst things he did in the name of the Emperor. Things he did even when they felt wrong. The trees are the same as the layer above aside from the leaves being gold and smelling like rotten flesh. This leads into grimwalker-specific memories, of which there are fewer. The trees are sparse, distanced from each other, bone-white and surrounded by bones. At the end of the field of bones, he finds his earliest memory, and the first one in the mindscape that in any ways shows Belos.

Layer 4: On the other side, he sat on a log in front of a campfire. Outside. Another forest. Cold. It was night, but the sky was brightened by stars. Flecks of fire rose into the sky along with the smoke. The smell of rotting flesh was gone, replaced by burning wood. 

This is essentially a museum of memories curated by the Belos that's infecting Hunter's mind to manipulate Hunter into trusting him. It's the only section where there's an actual sky. None of the sections are described as warm (iirc) but this one has a campfire (an isolated little place to be warm). It smells like a nice campfire instead of death (wonder where the wood for a campfire came from...). "[The] trees were green and the grass was red and there were stars in the quiet night sky." This calls back to how Belos describes the human realm to Hunter at the beginning of Eclipse Lake ("the trees are green, the nights are quiet"), which I feel is the moment in the show most emblematic of the 'softer' side of Hunter's relationship with Belos (I also feel like Hunter looks more child-like in that scene than in any other pre-TTT scene). With the red grass, it's a mix of demon/human realm nature because Belos wants to make this space that is sort of the 'best of both worlds' to prove to Hunter that he doesn't need anything outside of Belos.

[CW: mention of CSA] Layer 5: Everything was still. Trees floated silently on the water. The lake glowed slightly, providing just enough light to see each other’s faces. On the other side of the water was a forest obscured by heavy fog. My clothes had changed again. My Halloween costume[.]"

The depths. Represented by the water and island of the graveyard. Below the water would be his subconscious. Instead of trees, the memories are embedded in wooden gravestones, with many of them being broken, torn, or distorted. This is where his memories of being sexually abused are kept, damaged but not destroyed, buried in the same place where the possession occurred.

There's more stuff down there that gets brought up in chapter 63, but that's for another post methinks.

There's also a secret section that we didn't get to see, which is where Luz and Amity were when they were separated from Hunter in ch. 57. I won't specify what that was because it might get revealed elsewhere.

Thank you so much for asking! I (obviously) love yapping about my thought/writing process and I put a lot of thought into Hunter's mindscape. I'm really glad people seemed to like it a lot. There's a lot of ideas I still have about it that may or may not end up happening later on; some things just didn't fit into the sections we've had so far.

[galebrainrot2024]

Gale x Tav Enemies to Lovers Part 19

Read on Ao3

Full transparency, I did pull some loose lines from a NSFW of mine. No reason for me to totally reinvent the wheel! Enjoy :) Gale's POV

After the rest of their companions retired, Karlach tentatively walked over to Gale and stuck her head in his room, “Pst,” she waved a hand. “Up for a little late night walk about?” 

Despite his exhaustion and because the orb didn’t loom over him, he obliged and stood, groaning as he rose to his feet. “Gladly.” 

They walked the outskirts of the inn, trailing along the black water’s edge in silence before Karlach broke the silence. “So…” she said, rubbing the back of her neck, “How are you feeling? I mean, now that you’re not the only one facing the possibility of death.” 

Gale released a quick, short puff of air. “Oh, you know, ever the optimist.” He paused, sitting on the flat rocks overlooking the murky abyss. “I wouldn’t wish this fate on anyone, least of all you. It would be selfish to talk about myself when you’ve only learned of your fate.” 

Karlach laughed and shoved his shoulder, “Come off it, mate. I’ve been living on borrowed time and we both knew it, the difference is now it’s been confirmed. It’s not speculation anymore. This engine is going to blow and I’ll be damned if I step foot back in the hells. Besides,” she said, tossing a stick into the lake, “what have I got to offer this world? You were a chosen, an archmage… you have so much to live for and your death is not inevitable.” She looked at him seriously, “You have to reconsider.” 

“I’m just a man,” Gale frowned, running a hand over his weary face, “An imperfect one, with needs, wants, and flaws by the bushel. A fragile vessel in which to place potentially world-ending power.” 

Karlach groaned and stood to pace. “I hate it when you talk about yourself like that. Mystra must have done quite the number on you, for you to think so little of yourself.” 

Gale fiddled with his collar and sleeves, uncomfortable and unaccustomed to such blatant vulnerability. “Well, it’s hard to think highly of yourself once you’ve been reduced to a pitiful excuse to the person you once were. And even more so now that my ex-lover, and goddness of magic, has more or less signed my fate. My end.” 

“You have so much to live for,” Karlach expressed, waving her arms. “What about your friends? Tara? Your mother? Tav?” Gale ignored her when she emphasized Tav’s name and he swallowed hard. “Fine, ignore whatever is going on between Tav and you. What about the rest? If I were in your shoes, there’s no way I’d be willing to kill myself for a God like her.” 

Gale felt his temperature rise and clenched his fists, “It’s not that simple.” 

“Isn’t it?” She walked back and forth, emphasizing her point with broad strokes, “First, she casts you out with no explanation - I mean, yeah, you meddled in a Goddesses affairs, and she could have at least told you what you’d done. Has she ever told you, the source of the orb’s power I mean?” Gale shook his head and bit the insides of his cheek. “Exactly. So, we don’t even know what this thing is and she, an omnipotent being, couldn’t be bothered to offer you the grace of an explanation? You’re not the first human to make such an error, I’d reckon.” 

Gale laughed and shrugged, “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I ought to be angrier… ah… ultimately, it was my fault, my choice - my folly. I thought I knew better than a Goddess… I sought to return one, infinitesimal diamond to her crown. The equivalent of pouring a canteen of water into the Chionthar.” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Sacrificing myself for the rest of the realm feels like adequate punishment.” 

Karlach groaned again, “I won’t sit here and listen to you kick yourself while you’re down, mate. It’s too damn depressing. You made a mistake - a foolish one - and a mistake all the same. If Mystra can’t think of another way to extend her forgiveness other than for you to take your own life, she’s not Goddess worth worshipping. We will find another way.” 

“Maybe you should take your own advice,” Gale volleyed back to her. She smirked and threw a fistful of grass at him. 

“Hey!” He brushed the leaves from his person, the tension leaving him. She certainly knew how to change his mood. “I don’t appreciate being decorated in this shadowed muck, thank you. Shouldn’t I be the one asking you how you’re feeling anyway? How did this become about me?” 

She bellowed, raising her hands to the sky like a penitent. “This is the best day. The best day.” 

Gale balked, his eyes widening. “Karlach. You were just given a death sentence. The best day?” He rose a brow at her, skeptical. 

“You should know better than most how lonely it’s been to not be able to relish in anyone’s company. For years I’ve been starved of the simple pleasures of being alive. I’m so happy for me - in fact, I might be the happiest woman on the sword cost since I may have someone to cuddle up to tomorrow night…” Gale grinned to match her curled smirk. “I didn’t expect to see him here. He was giving me the old eye, right? I’m not making that up?” 

Gale stood and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, “He was most definitely giving you the old eye. I’m happy for you, Karlach. Really I am. I.. I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you how worried I am, though. Dammon’s right - the world is better with you in it.” 

“Listen,” she clasped his shoulders, looking at him seriously, “I’m never going back. If you said I could die right now or live a thousand years in the Hells, I’d choose to go out now with my freedom intact. I don’t expect anyone to understand that - but I’ve been dealt a hand most people don’t have to contemplate playing. You have, too - you should know better than anyone.” 

“It doesn’t have to be forever,” he insisted, “it could give some time to find a proper solution. I have a hard time believing it can’t be managed.” 

“You heard Dammon. There is no solution. It’s hell, or bust. I choose bust.” She shook her head and sighed, stepping away from him to look out at the endless blanketed sky. Her voice quavered, “I don’t want to talk about this now. I’ve been given a huge gift. I can touch people I love for the first time in a decade. And for the first time in a decade there are people I care about all around me. Let me enjoy that, please. I just want to celebrate this. At least for a little.” Gale understood the sentiment deeply and allowed the quiet night to consume them. 

*** 

“Answer me true,” Jaheira said, placing her hands on the table. “Do not lie. The parasite is changing you, isn’t it?” 

Gale stood behind Tav, observing carefully as she navigated the conversation. He was intrigued by her couth and furtiveness, how she leveraged her tone, her word choice, all while holding her cards tightly to her chest. As the days passed, Gale began to recognize how much he admired this in Tav. How they’d been faced with countless dangers, incredible odds, and she rarely faltered in her conviction. It was inspiring and arousing. He was enamored with how diplomatic she was, how tactful, just how cunning… and her talent with magic… it was enough to make him feel unhinged. 

“Well,” Tav said, tracing her finger over the rim of the glass she refused. “I’ve experienced so much since the crash. Who’s to say it’s the tadpole that changed me?” 

Jaheira sneered and Shadowheart giggled, earning her an elbow jab from Karlach who was listening intently. “You speak frivolously. Do you not grasp the cost of what we’re dealing with? Look around you… good people, stranded here two feet in the grave. If we’re to survive I have no choice but to trust you. Can I?” 

“Trust doesn’t matter -“ Tav said cooly and Gale felt his stomach knot, her confidence was electric. “I’ll get the job done. What happened to being the godsend you’d been praying for?” He felt his lips curl into a crooked grin, and ran his fingers through his hair as he watched her, two snakes in an elaborate dance. 

“That was a public display of hope, despite private reservations. I have every reason to be cautious. I’ve traced people like you - people with parasites in their brains. The cult is spreading through the city. Quietly. Quickly. With unsettling deliberation. We tracked them to this ancient village, only to be faced with a man we killed and buried over a century ago. General Kethric Thorm. Remember that name.” 

After speaking with Jaheira, the group made a b-line towards the stair to seek out Isobel’s protection - if they were to venture to Moonrise, they’d need much more than crude torches. Gale was seized with the gravity of it all - how much larger than them this was. Larger than just the tadpoles. It was bleak, and he felt a sinking dread that detonating the orb would be the way. 

He felt a lithe hand on his shoulder and turned his head as they lingered outside of Isobel’s room. “There will be another way,” Tav murmured and gave his upper arm a reassuring squeeze. He felt sick, overwhelmed by her touch, overwhelmed by the possibilities before him. Gale sought to ignore the creeping thoughts, the unholy things he wanted to do to her each time she touched him.

There was no ale, no potion, no feeling on earth that quite compared to when he looked into her eyes or when she touched him.

Her gaze lingered and Gale felt exposed, naked almost as she peered into his soul, as if she was probing the deepest recesses of his mind. As if she could hear his thoughts. 

“How can you be so sure…” he whispered, averting her eyes. He was shocked when he felt her fingers brush his jaw, her gentle grip turning his face to meet hers. 

“Because I know you, and I know myself. Neither of us do particularly well when we are told what we cannot do.” They held one another’s gaze for what felt like a millennia before Shadowheart cleared her throat. 

“As much as I hate to interrupt this precious moment, we have a cult to ambush, remember?” 

They blushed and separated like oil and water. “Right,” Tav said in a strained whisper and they swung open the doors. 

“I didn’t realize I had an audience -“ Isobel said, her white hair iridescent in the shadow's light. “The true soul who’s going to save us all. Pleased to meet you.” 

“Word travels fast.” Tav said, crossing her arms. 

“Hm… it’s a small inn. It’s almost too good to believe. Free from the Absolute’s influence, yet able to walk among cultists... yet, a blessing all the same. Let me guess, Jaheira sent you to beg a protection spell of her favorite cleric.” 

As Isobel manipulated the blue light that projected from her palm, Gale cocked a brow at Shadowheart’s scoff. Bold, to openly denounce someone who was offering their guidance and help. Selunite cleric or not, he’d thought her more clever than that. Old wounds die hard, he supposed. 

“This should help get you closer to the towers… but there are places it won’t help, where the curse is too strong, darker. The cultists are able to traverse the deepest shadows - the harpers are trying to figure it out.” 

“Selunite magic.” Shadowheart scoffed and shook her head, as if to rid herself of the spell. “Dark Lady forgive me.” 

“Good nose - like a nasty little terrier.” Isobel quipped, a clip that would have earned a nasty retort from Shadowheart had there not been a strange, threatening noise that engulfed them.

Gale felt a rumbling, as if the ground itself threatened to split open. He reached out, grabbing hold of Tav’s arm. “Something is wrong.”

** 

As Karlach wiped Marcus’s blood from her axe, Gale wiped his face with a cloth. Shadowheart brushed off her armor and rolled her shoulder’s back. “Well. There’s always something, isn’t there.” 

“The plot thickens,” Karlach said, taking a gulp of water. “What I’d give for some precedented, run of the mill ass-whopping. This all feels… I don’t know. Too heavy.” Gale’s brow furrowed - it wasn’t often she admitted to feeling overwhelmed.  

“This is the same Karlach that fought in the Blood War?” Gale taunted, to which she stuck out her tongue in mock defiance and tossed the bloodied, balled-up cloth at him. 

Gale dodged the throw, holding out his arms as if to say 'See that? This Wizard still has some tricks up his sleeve.' Then, he looked steadily at Tav and his face contorted for a moment - was that a flash of jealousy? He licked his lips, trying to add moisture to his desperately parched mouth. Tav’s knuckles were white as they gripped her canteen.

Gale extended a hand to her, “Care to share?” 

He admired how her skin flushed, the beads of sweat pooling on her forehead and snaked in miniature rivulets down her cheeks. When she handed him the canteen, her fingers brushed against his knowingly and he felt electrified. Before he could reconcile with himself, the words spilled out of him like a bad batch of Hundur sauce. 

“You know… it’s quite thrilling, to fight off such grim creatures as this region throws at us. Especially being at your side,” he paused for a moment, embarrassed yet unable to stop, “I once… read a book that explained in some detail the effect a brush with danger has on one’s desire for… other forms of stimulation.” He swallowed some water, though it did little to alleviate the desert inside, “Have you ever read anything on that subject?” 

He was acutely conscious of the gleeful shock on Shadowheart and Karlach’s faces. He bit down on the inside of his lip and swayed a bit on his feet before relief consumed him as Tav spoke: “Read it?” she said softly, but with a knowing glint in her eyes that made Gale’s heart flutter, “I could have written the damn thing...” he saw her swallow hard, the hallow of her neck calling out to him like a siren song. What he would give to flick his tongue along the vulnerable skin.  

Gale cleared his throat, shifting to conceal his growing arousal. Thank the gods he was wearing a loose robe.”Oh…” he took a deep breath, a lopsided grin betraying his wanton need, “Then might I suggest we pool our knowledge. No sense in letting valuable, first hand experience go to waste.” He tried to steady himself as his mind whirled with salacious details, the lustful heat seeping through his body and soul. He wanted more than her physical body. He wanted all of her - her mind, her soul. To bond with her in a tantric, unworldly experience. “Perhaps it’s just the thrill of our near-undead experience talking, but standing at your side through such darkness and disrepair...my Gods..” Gale’s face softened, his voice cool. He couldn’t quite manage the rest once he realized he saw the same hunger, the ache in her soul.

The words lodged in his throat, unable to be uttered and so they lingered invisibly in the air: it only makes me want you more. 

He wasn't able to spare himself further embarrassment. “Gale - did you just,” Shadowheart broke the silence, “I’m sorry, did you just tell Tav you wanted to have sex with her by citing a book?” Shadowheart giggled, though not out of malice. "After we just murdered a teeming host of winged horrors and a mangled, freaky-cultist? I didn't think you had it in you, to be honest."

The way Karlach began to crack up made his ears burn. The air seemed to crackle, alive and whipping with the impending storm of two bodies desperate to intertwine. Gale and Tav were side by side, he staring down into her enrapturing eyes and allowed himself to indulge in every inch of her face, her body…

Karlach started: “So, Tav, are you going to let the wizard ba-“ 

But before she could finish her sentiment, Jaheira bounded up the stairs, accosting them and Isobel. The conversation would have to wait. 

[bloodycyrano]

I come bearing dragon age trivia and headcannons for this spooky season!

So, the equivalent of Halloween in the realm of Thedas would probably be "All souls day", or "Funalis"

It was named Funalis originally, and dedicated to the old god, Dumat, God of silence. Yet, when Dumat fell victim to the blight and rose as the first archdemon, the vast majority turned a blind eye to any remainder of what it once was for the old god. Thus renaming it "All Soul's Day", to be celebrated as a day in somber remembrance of the dead.

In northern parts of Thedas, All Soul's Day is spent dressed as spirits for parades after dark. And the Chantry uses the day to honor the death of Andraste, with public fires that mark her own burning, and plays that depict her death.- Creepy.

Now for the headcannons.

Zevran- Zev is from Antiva, which is up north. I have full confidence that our favorite assassin dresses in full costume on All Soul's Day and tries to start drinking games with the rest of the party.

Alistair- He.. takes time to himself. He's quieter than usual, and you realize why when you find him at the edge of camp. He's having a drink by the river and practically cradling Duncan's blade. He's carved the names of the Wardens lost at Ostagar into a tree. He pours one out for his fallen friends and spends the rest of the day trying to crack jokes like usual - but you can tell he's just thinking about the battle again.

- Zevran takes extra care to try and cheer up Alistair. Perhaps begrudgingly; it works.

Oghren- takes any and all opportunities to get drunk. He's interested somewhat in learning about the Parades in Antiva and Orlais and such, but mostly just because "Whatever it is the elf is doing" looks fun. I do believe he'd take the time to sit and think about Branka.. She was his wife, and he did care for her all things considered.

Sten- the Qunari prayers for the dead. He's quiet, he's by himself. He doesn't speak a word to anyone, but if you get close enough when he doesn't realize you're there, you can hear him praying. He looks sad, beneath the stoic exterior. But there is solace in his practice all the same.

Leliana- She has her prayers for her mother and for Andraste, but she's also fairly lighthearted about things. She probably wears a mask for the occasion, and is more than happy to tell tales and sing songs about the holiday. She will take time on her own, however. To pray and pick her mother's flowers.. Andrastes Grace.

Wynne- Wynne prays. She's probably fairly quiet, all things considered. She wonders when she'll finally pass.. If the spirit will leave her on a day like this one. She isn't afraid, but she is.. contemplative. She likes to observe the practices of everyone else on the holiday, quietly from her own tent. Perhaps she judges quietly, but she also finds amusement from some of the antics from Zevran, and Oghren. She's even delighted to find that Alistair is able to cheer up a bit.

Morrigan- She isn't going to be bothered with odd practices from her odd party members. Morrigan finds the culture to be interesting, but aside from that, she sees no need for strange beliefs. She doesn't care for Leliana's tales or songs of Andraste, and she certainly isn't going to dress up. This being said, she does secretly enjoy watching and observing from her tent, off at the edge of camp. She probably goes off on her own for some sort of magical practice, or even changes shape to frolic in the woods with the spirits.

Shayle- Shayle doesn't know what to do with the holiday.. But they have a list of names. Names from the Cadash thaig, and bitter memories of being reunited with Caridin. They think they will pray for Caridin, and maybe even the family they do not remember.

The warden- My warden is Dalish.. I believe she covered her mirror with a black cloth and got up early that morning to hunt. She doesn't like using bows, but Tamlen always did. He insisted upon it, even. And with his absence, she still felt the pull to do so. Who was she to argue with a spirit? She felt a particular guilt this time, knowing what he had become. Knowing she might've been able to save him. But the show must go on, and the mask must remain. She doesn't let the others see her suffer. Instead, she pushes herself to partake in whatever her companions wish of her. The only one who seems to see past it is Sten, but he will not disrespect her by calling attention to it. What would the need be, anyways? And he has his own prayers to attend to.

- When given the opportunity, the warden dresses up as the archdemon.. Perhaps in poor taste.

Barkspawn- The best pupper has a costume. Barkspawn has been dressed up as a Griffon! He tried to eat the fake beak..

[simplyvalinor]

Ranking Guy’s mlm ships by how likely they are to happen

1. Guy x Jasper

200000/10

this art

both jasper and guy’s routes give massive “this is my boyfriend guy/jasper and this is his boyfriend jasper/guy” WHY IS THERE MULTIPLE INSTANCES OF GUY AND MC GETTING FREAKY IN FRONT OF JASPER AND GUY IS LIKE “LET HIM WATCH” LIKEEE HUHHHHH

“Given the choice between you and Jasper, I would rather have him as my wife” ??????

that route where guy ingests an aphrodisiac and propositions Jasper and Jasper is like “i am honored 😇 but those pursuits are for the realm of sobriety😔” oh…so you might say yes if he was sober jasper? hmmm

jasper definitely services guy when he’s having a bad day

post guy’s route him and mc definitely let jasper watch as a special treat mc would be flustered but guy is like smh i let him watch me masturbate all the time this is nothing new

post jasper’s route mc says they should invite guy into their bed bc jasper would like it and jasper acts like he wouldnt 😐 but during the act would be like “omg my two fav people getting nasty🫣😍” he’d love it

2. Guy x Fenn

10000/10

they’re the equivalent of the “you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid” meme

they already have kissed!!!

this route if mc didnt interrupt…. oh they wouldve gotten nasty

Fenn is always wildin for Guy’s birthday 🫣first the collar and Guy puts it on mc and is like wow what a great gift??????? um ok

then the punch card where i think guy gets points if he sleeps with fenn or takes fenn out on a date?? And then if he reaches a certain amount of points his reward is an entire day to do with fenn whatever he wants……and guy keeps the card 💀💀💀💀💀 (jasper also has one and excitedly says he has three points and cant wait to have an entire day with fenn)

Fenn knows how much he can get away with and every once in a while i think Guy gives in😏😏 they would fuck so nasty im concerned for their health

3. Guy x Lynt

20/10

this one you genuinely have to be blind not to see the possibility im sorry

Besides Jasper Lynt would be the only other pairing that would not have to put in work to get Guy to agree to them. Lynt would just have to ask lol

Mr. “Lynt is a comfort to be around” Avari!?

Yeah…Lynt would only have to ask to fuck and Guy would be like sure why not and then be surprised when he catches feelings

There’s too many instances of Guy being a softie for Lynt I cannot even reference them all. I’d need a binder full of screenshots!

Just to reference Fenn’s wild ass birthday gifts again, Fenn gifts Lynt Guy for his birthday AND GUY GOES ALONG WITH IT

I swear there’s even an instance with Lynt sneaking into bed with mc and Guy in the middle of the night and Guy just allows it??

Spoilers for Lynt book 2, but it’s Guy Lynt turns to for help with the blue olive problem And Guy is like “you do realize you owe Avari? would you make such a vow to me so lightly?” and Lynt says “🥺YES BECAUSE ITS YOU, GUY” and Guy is like 😒😒this naive ass bitch….”but since its you who’s asking🥺🥺my magic is yours🥺🥺🥺” these gay ass bitches…. Guy would NEVER do that for anyone else the only other prince he’s done something remotely kind for is Toa💀💀💀

4. Guy x Roy

2/10

alexa play paparazzi by lady gaga

Everyone point at Roy and go SIMP 👉🏻👉🏻👉🏻👉🏻

is it mean to roy if i say i prefer this ship as unrequited—LISTENNNNN i just think that Roy would mever actually act upon his attraction to guy

Sherry dunking on her own brother in Guy’s route and being like “if you(mc) and guy get together roy is gonna be pissed!” and Rio agrees 💀💀 that scene had me gagged

Roy’s ear being pierced to match Guy💀💀

Their’s would be an angst filled romance 🤨🤨 like Guy would think Roy’s affection would be amusing at first but then he’d quickly get annoyed at Roy’s hero-worship. Roy would need to learn how to see Guy as a person but also show his true self.

IF they were able to get past each other’s princely status and just be people, i think they’d actually be very cute 🥰 🥰 but yeah lots of angst

5. Guy x Toa

-75000/10

oh brother….the two most shippable are always the most unlikely to be together in canon, aren’t they?

they both see love as a waste of time and that there is only political duty

it’d be the SLOWEST of slow burns we’re talking bible length proportions slow burn

they HAVE to fight or angrily kiss to get to the next level there will be no civil conversation here, only toxicity

the potential is there i could talk all day i very clearly obviously have a preference

like i said earlier, Guy actually did something kind for Toa once…. In Toa’s route he gets himself in deep shit for not only fighting Guy, but losing. And Toa’s basically in disgrace in consequence but Guy fixes everything simply by implying that he respected Toa’s abilities at a party in front of important people from all the kingdoms. Simple, but insane coming from Guy, all things considered.

and then this happens after…

alexa play once more to see you by mitski

alexa play i can see you by taylor swift

alexa play guilty as sin by taylor swift

[autisticsupervillain]

It's Fictional Throwdown Friday!

This Week's Fighters....

Stolas Goetia vs Darth Plagueis!

Conditions:

Stolas as of Season 2 prior to losing his title. Legends canon Plagueis.

Scenario:

Through his studies of the Force, Darth Plagueis discovers the parallel reality of Hell and so attempts to portal into it to study its infernal power. Stolas, knowing full well that such travel is forbidden to anyone but himself, decides to intervene personally.

Analysis: Stolas

What do you expect demon royalty to look like? Far beyond the lowly imps of the wrath ring and the loathesome sinners waring amongst themselves in Pride, royals are the rung between demons and sins. And no royal family is more loyal to Lucifer than the family of the Ars Goetia.

From that description, the last thing you'd expect from an all powerful royal like Stolas is an emotional wreck of a family man who's perpetually horny for a vulgar little imp. Let's take it from the top. But then again, this is the universe where Lucifer is a depressed shut in obsessed with rubber ducks. Let's take it from the top.

Stolas is youngest heir to the Goetia family, a scholar and a nerd ever since his youth. He seemed predestined for a life of misery when he was arranged to marry a woman he despised from a young age for the sake of providing a precautionary heir to the family. That was until his childhood best friend, Blitzo Buckzo (the first O is silent), crashed back into his life in spectacular fashion. The two begain a secret relationship behind closed doors, filling Stolas's life with love and joy again. For once, he wasn't caged up in a relationship with a woman who loathed him. For once, he felt... happy.

Sadly, it wasn't to be. Cheating on his wife had the expected repercussions and now his wife plots to assassinate him at every opportunity. His actions have completely shattered the happy home life he attempted to build for his beloved daughter and he was left wondering if Blitzo ever truly loved him or just saw him as a convenient business partner. He torn between his commitment to a lover he wasn't sure truly cared for him and a daughter whom he wanted to give a happy childhood to. To give the childhood he never had to.

Needless to say, Stolas is a bit of a mess. And that's not even getting into what he gets up to in the bedroom. But despite his rapidly self-destructing home life, Stolas is still demon royalty. And he won't hesitate to remind you of that should you lay a claw on his dear daughter or his beloved Blitzy.

Given his assigned role of studying the stars, Stolas is one of few permitted to travel freely between hell and Earth. He can create portals to and from the mortal plane or possess unwitting humans to force them to summon him. These portals can be so large and powerful, they completely split the sky over the ring of Wrath, shoving the clouds apart.

Stolas was also able to create a pocket reality containing numerous stars in a matter of seconds, a feat requiring energy equivalent to 16880000000000000000 Foe.

The speed required to create a realm that big that quickly would mean Stolas's magic was traveling 63180000000x faster than light.

But most damning of all his incredible powers is the one inherent to his status. As a member of demon royalty, Stolas cannot be killed by anything other than a holy weapon. This is because, so long as his soul is in tact, Stolas can simply reform his body back in Hell, regardless of whatever damage he's taken. Other demons have even come back from thoroughly cooked and eaten alive.

Stolas has the power he needs to obliterate anyone who would hurt those he loves. It's just that sometimes he's the one who hurts them.

Analysis: Darth Plagueis

Have you ever heard the Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?

I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. Darth Plagueis the Wise was a Dark Lord of the Sith so powerful and so wise he could use the Force to influence the midi-chlorians to create life. He had such a knowledge of the Dark Side, he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying....

But we get ahead of ourselves. Before he was ever a Sith, the life of Hego Damask was predestined to be a tragedy. From birth, he was destined to become a Sith Lord, for the man who would be his master, Darth Tenebrous, arranged the marriage of his parents specifically to create a powerful apprentice. From an early age, he had a remarkable grasp on the power of the Dark Side, effortlessly wielding his telepathic power to turn his childhood playmates into playthings.

When he eas inevitably handed over to Tenebrous, Hego was given his true name, Darth Plagueis.

In truth, Hego was simply..... Damask to hide Plagueis's true nature from the prying eyes of the galaxy and a financial puppet to manipulate history to the Sith agenda. Inheriting his father's fortune after a sizable amount of familial murder, Plagueis became head of Demask Holdings, an institution he would use to manipulate the politics of the Galactic Republic from the background. As far as the galaxy needed to know, all of his siblings died of genetic complications he had no hand in. Such was a common theme with Plagueis's enemies.

Even his master, Darth Tenebrous, would suffer such a fate in his hubris. Tenebrous intended for Plagueis to be nothing but a vessel for his consciousness so that he may one day possess the Chosen One. As far as the galaxy must know, Tenebrous was simply the victim of a mining accident. It was at least half true this time. Plagueis really just improvised the betrayal.

With his master dead, Plagueis could focus all his attention on his political scheming and his study of the Force. The dark side of the force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural, after all. He went about perfecting his midi-chlorian manipulation to extend his lifespan, will his opponents to die by forcing midi-chlorians to return to their source, and even resurrect the dead repeatedly. He had all the standard Sith staples as well, lightning, superhuman enhancement, and frightfully potent telepathy. He could even make your eardrums burst with one horrifically powerful scream.

As a Mun, Plagueis is already taller, stronger, and smarter on average than an ordinary human, but with the Force, he can amplify that tenfold. When a group of assassins attempted to kill him, succeeding in choping of his jaw and stopping several of his hearts, Plagueis rallied from otherwise fatal wounds to rip his would be killers apart bare handed, blasting them into mulch and atoms with force waves and punching through their armor like it was made of paper. The investigators at the scene afterwards assumed a bomb must have been used in the attack.

That's sort of the problem. Plagueis was heavily committed to maintaining his cover, so he may sometimes hesitate at killing his foes in ways that it might be difficult to explain later. While this can be a weakness under the right circumstances, in other cases it forces him to use the most direct means available to silence any witnesses. Means such as literally boiling your blood with a touch, flash frying you into a skeleton, or simply snapping your neck as the needs dictate.

Defensively speaking, Plagueis can absorb energy attacks with Tutaminis, hide his presence with force concealment, or cast illusions to fool and manipulate his foes.

While Plagueis is primarily a sorcerer who largely viewed lightsaber combat as archaic, he still made every effort to keep his skills sharp. Darth Venemis, his original master's actual apprentice, learned this the hard way when he attempted to aquire the title of Sith. It's implied that Plagueis primarily specialized in Niman, as not only is this the preferred style of his apprentice, Darth Sidious, but Plagueis was even able to recognize it in the fighting style of Darth Maul. Being a combination of every lightsaber form before it, Plagueis primarily utilized it to keep his bases in direct combat covered while focusing on his Force studies.

Darth Plagueis was regarded as the most powerful Sith Lord who had ever lived during the time he was alive. He was a product of the Rule of Two, a philosophy meant to concentrate the Dark Side into two specific vessels to make each generation far more powerful than the last. As such, Plagueis should be far more powerful than any Sith Lord who came before him.

I'm going so far as to say this would include Darth Vitiate, a being who transcended what it meant to be Sith within his era and threaten to destroy the entire Galaxy.

His plan was to recreate the Ritual of Nathema on a galactic scale to consume the entire galaxy. The vision we get for this feat shows it taking seven seconds. The baseline for destroying a galaxy is 1.053x10^66 joules. Divide by seven to get 1.5042857e+65 joules or 1504000000000000000000 Foe.

Naturally, an attack going that fast would have to be moving 270303000000000000000 times faster than light.

Darth Plagueis became so powerful that the only thing he feared was losing his power, which eventually of course he did. Unfortunately, He taught his apprentice everything he knew. Then his apprentice killed him in his sleep. Ironic, He could save others from death, But not himself.

Throwdown Breakdown:

This matchup is very, very interesting.

Plagueis takes the stat edge across the board via Vitiate scaling. Monsterously so, in fact. 4278300094.97x faster and only 89x stronger. Plagueis could eat an entire steak dinner in the time it takes Stolas to blink. You'd think that would make this a wash considering Plagueis's skill and intelligence advantages but... there's a hitch.

For one, this scaling is being especially generous to Plagueis by assuming he's far stronger than a feat Vitiate needed to be amped by a ritual to achieve and ultimately never actually performed. Without this, even the stars shaking upon Plagueis's death pales in comparison to Stolas's best.

Two: Plagueis cannot kill Stolas.

Whatever damage is done, Stolas will simply regenerate from his soul back in Hell, which Plagueis does not have the means to destroy. Realizing his opponent can now effortlessly obliterate him, Stolas will now focus on destroying him from Hell, outside of Plagueis's range.

Does Stolas have any means of killing Plagueis from within Hell, then? Well, yes. Stolas has constantly shown to be able to possess people, observe the living world, and manipulate bodies from within Hell. That last one is especially important, as Stolas can simply rotate Plagueis's head the wrong way around from Hell and there would be nothing the Sith Lord could do about it.

Plagueis has sustained himself through otherwise fatal injuries before, yes, but he still needed medical attention to survive afterwards. Hell, suffocation is how he dies canonically, so a neck snap would still work. On the flipside, if you don't give Plagueis the highest scaling possible, then Stolas is stronger, faster, can't be killed, and can turn the Mun to stone with a glare.

The only way Plagueis wins is if he mindhaxes out the gate. But, he has no way of knowing he cannot kill Stolas by conventional means or that killing Stolas would allow him to continue the fight from outside of Plagueis's range. As powerful as Plagueis is, his clairvoyance has still let him be ambushed by far less.

Both fighters can win with a single thought in theory. In practice, Stolas is better built for actually doing so.

This Throwdown's Winner is....

Stolas Goetia!

[madame-know-it-all]

࣪. 𖤐 : moira info post.

please be mindful, this blog contains mentions of : a little too much yearning, fourth wall breaking, and a deep love for the carpenters.

⌗ maire

the Irish equivalent of mary, usually more synonymous with the figure of the bible.

⌗ moira

a name which in Irish means fate, destiny, and occassionally refers to "moirai," aka the three fates.

⌗ this character is primarily intertwined with vertigo comics sandman / lucifer / constantine lore. however, many things were modified (or no less, bullshitted) for the sake of a character.

moira was not always a person. at the time before anything and also everything, she was simply a star; a ball of gas and heat floating and sparkling in night's endless dark body. per request of her husband, time, whom asked not only for some minor company but another being to watch and document as he withered, night chose to comply by giving him one of her many stars. moira, though only made of gas and heat, was born as all things were; shiny, and extremely curious.

moira was given two gifts when she was born. a hefty handful of twelve stars, which were to keep her company as she worked, and her own personal pocket realm, only in reach by other celestial beings and moira herself. moira was given a few jobs, all of which generally correlated toward each other; for one, to document the lifetimes of whatever God and earth seemed to be up to. two, to bestow her vast knowledge and documentation on anyone who may ask for answers ( so long as she may answer them ), and for three, to never allow someone to impede on her purpose. unfortunately, as many things do, they changed.

moira became easily infatuated with earth after many visits. having been a star, twinkling in the sky, watching from afar, she often considered earth to be something like her baby she watched over. she was taken by humanity nearly instantly. and then, later, was taken by something else during one of her excavations in documenting. as permitted, moira had been called upon for a favor. though, she could not have totally predicted a visit from the morning star himself. what started out as a simple favor for a few scriptures eventually turned into more regular visits; visits moira herself began to expect almost a little too happily.

moira, who had never quite known love, fell rather hard and fast. where simple appointments turned into more, there was simply the glaring issue of commitment, which was not only a plague impeding on moira's job, but equally something lucifer simply couldn't do as further events began to unfold and tear them apart. though love seemed to normally conquer all in fairytales, their visits grew fewer in size, and moira began to fret for the worst. decades to centuries together, and yet, she found herself doomed to be disappointed. so, with trying to take all of her eggs out of one basket, moira abandoned her realm with the company of her stars to live a life on earth. something she claimed primarily to be for her documentation sake.

currently, moira resides in la, where she's once again entangled with lucifer and his antics. moira lives in a four bedroom penthouse with her tweleve starry children, who have all made a delightful home inside of a spacious jar.

⭒ abilities :

although moira is not magical, she still has a fair number of important abilities generally attributed to her celestial physiology.

.𖥔 supernatural intelligence

.𖥔 stellar mimicry

.𖥔 levitation

.𖥔 fourth wall awareness.

accounts intertwined with this one :

꒰ lucifer ; the unfortunate tear in moira's heart. among other things, also the primary reason she's a bit hard on herself.

꒰ t.b.a

moira inclusive #'s :

⌗ moira knows all

⌗ sandman / lucifer tags

⌗ normal dc rp tags

⌗ moira answers

[rmjagonshi]

Chp 26: Pillow Talk

On AO3

Stanford blinked. Standing for several long moments without speaking as his mind processed this new information, piecing together the little he understood. 

He’d made a deal with Bill practically a lifetime ago. At that time, Bill could enter his mind as he pleased. Control and alter his mind at will. Their deal effectively linked them together, forming an open channel between the mindscape and the real world. So long as their deal remained, both He and Bill were beholden to its rules. Meaning while Bill could enter his mind freely, outright possession was only possible if Stanford lost conscious control of his frontal cortex. Without a portal, Stanford himself was the only channel Bill had to directly affect the physical world.

Then, Jeselbruam inserted a metal plate in his head. Specifically to act as a barrier to prevent Bill from reading his mind or possessing him. Breaking that open channel and throwing Bill back into the mindscape. The rift opened a hole through spacetime, allowing Bill to obtain physical form and far more power, but at a cost. Bill was no longer able to enter the mindscape at all. Even if he made a deal and was able to open a channel between the nightmare realm and someone's mind, he had to relinquish his physical body to do it.

But Bill was fully in the physical realm now. Whatever that entailed and said about their lives being intertwined from the beginning, Stan was human now.  The channel between the nightmare realm and reality was closed. He had no direct link to the mindscape anymore than Stanford himself had. Well, no mindscape except his own through meditation or the Evlokna Ritual. 

Bill was at his strongest during Weirdmaggedon….right? Stan was wearing the chord of unicorn hair and moonstone, effectively sealing his magic…for the most part. 

The only other way Bill could infiltrate his mind was in the dreamscape. As evident by Stan’s past efforts to ease his nightmares. They were effectively cut off from each other unless Bill projected his thoughts. Not unlike a ham radio broadcasting into the ether to any open receiver. 

But Stanford could do it too. And more than that. Stanford could infiltrate Stan’s mindscape just as Bill had done to him. 

Stanford blinked, taking two steps closer to the bed and probing the channel in his mind he’d labeled as Bill’s. He followed the channel back to the source, vaguely sensing a crumbing Mysteryshack around him. He couldn’t see it. He was awake and so was Stan, but he could sort of ‘feel’ it. In a way.

He didn’t bother looking through doors or pry up floorboards to look for memories. He went straight to the fine motor control center and fiddled with Stan’s neural pathways. A pinch here and….

“Ow!, Yeah, that makes my feet go numb. Congratulations. Please undo that now.”

Stan leaned back and tried to wriggle his toes and flex his feet to relieve the pins and needles feeling to no avail. 

Stanford backtracked, undoing precisely what he’d messed with, and did the mental mindscape equivalent of sitting down on the floor in a huddled crouch.

He’d affected Stan’s mind. No. He’d affected Stan’s body through directly affecting his mind. 

Without touching him.

Tha same way Bill had done to him… 

What. The Fuck!? 

It wasn’t something that had been possible before…well, before. He hadn’t ever thought to delve into Bill’s mind while they were research partners. It seemed rude. And it wasn’t like he could experiment while he was jumping from multiverse to multiverse. And Stan. Well, it was hard to describe what, if any, telepathic potential twins had. Nothing he was consciously aware of at any rate. No, this telepathy they had was only possible now that Stan had a body in the physical realm. Was only possible now that Bill had his abilities. His memories.  

Or rather, now that all the overlapping aspects of Bill had caught up with each other. And he was…whole?

“How?”

Stan smirked. “How are ya doin’ that, or how does that make ya special?”

“Both. Either.”

Stan shrugged. “Don’t know how yer doin’ that. Been tryin’ ta figure it out since the storm. I got a couple a theories, but none that I can actually test. Least not now. Rules and limitations of reality and all. And I never understood the ins and outs of the cosmic threads of creation. They’re fun to play with, but really boring when you get into the nitty gritty.” 

Stanford gave a harrumph, prompting Stan to finish his thought.

“As fer why it makes ya special….it doesn’t.” Stanford’s face fell, and Stan scrambled to fill in the gap. “Not alone. But it's certainly a factor.” He stretched, wincing as his shoulders popped and his back made a sound like a branch snapping.

Stanford rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air in exasperation.“Then. What. Does?”

“Aside from what I already listed?”

Stanford made a sweeping gesture, hoping Bill would please elaborate on what exactly all of this meant. It was already pushing the fringes of Stanford’s understanding of how the world functioned. Threads of creation? Was Bill talking about String Theory?  

Stan held up his hand, counting off points in rapid fire. 

“You laugh at my jokes. You indulge my schemes. You plug holes in said schemes. You’re the life of the party when yer drunk; no one I’d rather sing karaoke with.” 

Stanford rolled his eyes and groaned while Bill waggled his eyebrows and gave him a wink. 

“You’re amazing with the kids. I was terrified of them at first, but you jumped right in with both feet. You keep pushing past failure even if it's impossible. Hell, you make impossible, possible. Serious!” Stan shifted and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “There was a catastrophic failure in the portal’s schematic that would have resulted in a back flow of energy that would have either collapsed your universe into the second dimension or caused the hellscape I was stuck in to erase itself. Boop! Gone! I couldn’t figure it out. ‘Ol Jhesel couldn’t figure it out. Part ‘o the reason she jumped ship and escaped to fifty-two.” 

“You said you could fix it. Gonna be honest, I didn’t think you could do it. I loved that you wanted to try, but I was sure it wasn’t gonna work. Days pretending to be you and playing house with Mcgucket. Guys whip smart; he knew immediately something was off but didn’t say nothin’. Remind me ta see what I can do to fix his….” 

Stan gestured to his temple with a remorseful grimace on his face. “Everything. Least I can do. Anyway……”

Stan met Ford’s eyes then, soft smile pulling at his lips. “Then you come out of your mindscape and in one afternoon, solve the whole thing. Just like that. I felt so dumb and so proud at the same time. I was already head over heels by then, but I finally admitted it to myself when you showed me the math.”

Stanford huffed, hiding his blush by turning away to mindlessly dig through the scattered pile of clothes on the bed. Stan saw it anyway.

“Every time you sneeze, your lips vibrate together and you sound like a question quail. It's the most adorable thing.” His voice grows wistful, soft. “You always knew how to cheer me up after Dad was an asshat. You were always the one to help bandage me up after a rough match or a tussle with Crampelter. Figured with all the practicing you’d gotten with me, you’d go on to be a doctor or some shit. You stole booze for us from Dad’s cabinet when Carla dumped me. You covered for me when the police came to question me about Downe’s van.” 

He was rambling now, voice raising an octave. “You don’t quit. You see the best in everyone. Even when they don’t deserve it. Especially when they don’t deserve it. You are the best challenge I’ve ever had at 3D chess. You actually liked my comics, even when no one else did. You encourage me to write them even if the only person I was writing them for was you. You are the single coolest person I’ve ev….”

Stan wasn’t quick enough to dodge the wadded up crusty boxers aimed at his head. “OK, fine! You’re enamored, I got that much from your pathetic excuse for an arts and crafts journal!” Stanford huffed, grabbing the single most dirtiest sock he could find and throwing that too. It missed and grazed Stan’s shoulder. “You’ve made your point, now answer my question.” Stanford snapped, reaching for another article of clothing to lob.

“What was the question?” Stan grinned, face still half covered with the pair of black boxer briefs with little constellations on them. Stanford lobbed another sock, hitting Stan square in the chest. Too bad that one was clean. 

“What makes me ‘unique in the universe’ as you say?” He snarled. 

Stan pulled the boxers off his head and met Ford’s eyes. “What makes you special? What makes you different from all the other iterations of you across all of time and space?”

Stanford threw up his hands “Yes!” He was beyond exasperated. 

“Nothing.”

Stan promptly took a flip-flop to the face. 

The giggle that emanated from Stan sounded eerily echoey and high pitched. And Stanford definitely didn’t shiver hearing it. “Honest, there are countless iterations of you that are virtually the same. Maybe some minor differences like you were the younger twin, or had no twin, or there was one where we were triplets and Fiddleford was the third…”

“Then why me?”

“Why You?” 

“Why choose me to try and build the portal? Why pick me?”

“Besides the fact you were helping me achieve a means to an end?”

Stanford threw his hands in the air with wide eyes and a snarl. “Yes!” 

“You were there…? And Could? And you’re the one who summoned me as I recall.”

“Not….” Ford threw another dirty sock ball, “why are you being purposefully obtuse?”

Stan’s grin was less than mirthful. “You’re the one being obtuse! How about asking the question you actually want to ask.”

But Stanford stubbornly kept his jaw clenched and chose instead to try and sort out the dirty clothes from what little remained of the clean.  

“Ok fine. You aren’t asking, but I’m gonna say this, and yer gonna listen.” Stan stood, pushing himself off the mattress and teetering on his feet. Stanford jumped to stabilize him, laundry diversion forgotten. He let his legs and back take on Stan’s weight. “ooohhhh, whoakay…..maybe standing isn’t gonna happen right yet.”

Stanford felt a huff of warm air across his ear, and arms weakly wrap around his waist. They stood for a short while, while Stan regained his balance. Stanford pushed him back to the bed, losing his footing and being pulled down with him. He landed with his knee buried in Stan’s thigh, only feeling kind of guilty at Stan’s groan of pain. Especially when he felt Stan pull him up and over so Stanford straddled his hips. He was beginning to doubt that Stan was really as bad off as he acted.  

He purposely ignored Stan’s half-hearted hip roll, instead forcing his weight down and pinning Stan’s arms. He briefly had a sick thought of tying Stan’s ankles to the bed, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort when Stan made no attempt to escape his hold. And despite his lazy thrusts, there was no heat to accompany them. 

He loomed over Stan and glared into his eyes. All at once both seeing and not seeing the monochrome Mystery Shack and its ever changing labyrinth of halls and doors. He could see its singular occupant, hiding down in the very core of the shack. No. Not hiding. Stabilizing. Chains descended down from all corners of the Shack, all meeting at a singular lode point. Stan himself. Or Bill. Because there weren't two entities there. Only one. One that couldn’t decide what it wanted to be and something that couldn’t be everything it wanted to be. Ever shifting and fluctuating like the structure that protected it. Never stagnant. Never stable. His mind in utter turmoil. He could sympathize.    

He blinked and focused on Stan’s chocolate brown eye again. 

Stan signed, “Okay, look, I don’t exactly know whas goin’ on, or why. I got ideas but nothin’ solid. And you are picking up on this hella fast and that is terrifying enough as it is. But really, that isn’t what yer askin’. Ya wanna know why you? Why you caught my eye?”

“Yes!”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” 

Stanford felt a set of fingers trail across his collar and down his abdomen. A quick check to either side confirmed that Stan’s hands were still pinned. Guess body manipulation was a two way street. 

Stanford sighed. “If you say something sappy, I’m gonna punch you.”

Stan grinned, “Do it then. I’m gonna.” 

But before he could utter another word, Stanford covered his mouth, nose mashed between his fingers. 

“Mmmmhrrtmmmnn, offmhr…………”

Stanford yanked his hand back like he’d been burned. “EW, what is wrong with you?” He grimaced, wiping off the drool from his hand on Stand chest hair.  

“You. Yer what’s wrong with me. Always been you, even before I was me…”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”  

“Sure don’t. Know how many people, how many beings I’ve met and been with? Not one turns my head like you. Not Carla, Not Jessie, Not Edalyn, sorry, ‘Marilyn’, Not Rick…no one.”

Stanford frowned. “Why though…?”

Bill rolled his eye and signed, sinking into the mattress. “We keep talkin’ in circles. I just said why…”

“Okay, fine…you said why. I just don’t understand why. Your reasons don’t make sense.”

Stan heaved a sigh large enough to nearly throw Ford off him. “You. I can’t predict you. Thought I could. Thought I knew my brother inside and out. But you surprised me. Changed things up. Changed the plan. I think I know what you’re gonna do and then you go and do something I can’t predict. I think I know you, then you go and pull the rug out from under me. You constantly surprise me.”

Stan yawned loudly, feeling his jaw pop. He groaned. “Fer now thou’, ‘m tired. Full ‘n tired ‘n sore. So unless you wanna…” Bill rolled his hips, but there was still no heat behind it. Stanford felt little more than a soft bulge against his ass. 

It was a topic best left avoided for now.  

Stanford leaned back, putting his full weight on Bill’s pelvis and grinding down.“You wont get far with that.”

Stan groaned again and swallowed hard. “‘M old, cut a guy some slack.”

“Excuses…” Stanford smirked, but rolled off anyway. He moved to the open duffel on the floor and pushed the whole clothing pile into it. He’d sort out clean and dirty tomorrow. Might even do laundry if the hotel offered services. 

He pulled the bedding back and placed black light in the middle of the sheets, turned it on and covered it back up with the covers. 

“I wont bother asking if you want me to disinfect yours…” he said, kicking his boots off and tucking them just under the bed frame for easy reach. 

“Nerd, the sheets stink of detergent. These ‘r probably cleaner than the ones on the boat.”

“Can’t be too careful.”

“Whatever…..” Stan kicked at the blanket until it came loose enough for him to pull it up and over himself. Mostly anyway. He let his body sink into the mattress, shifting around the one loose spring digging into his shoulder blade. He closed his eye and let his mind drift. aches and pains slowly easing into one dull thrum. He was faintly aware of the radiator kicking on again, and of running water. There was a tv or radio on in one of the adjacent rooms. He could kinda hear music if he strained. The distant ‘ding’ of the elevator. His breathing grew deeper, and slower. 

Stan jerked when he felt something slap his thigh. 

“You’re going to regret sleeping with your dentures in.”

“Lemme sleep, nerd.” he groused, pulling the blanket up over his head. 

“I’m just saying..”

“You should sleep too.”

Stanford hummed but otherwise just sat on the edge of the other mattress, fiddling with the frayed threads of the blanket. Yeah, they were probably safe, but it wasn't a bad idea for one of them to keep watch. Being in the middle of the bermuda triangle had its perks. At least there they didn't have to worry about someone breaking into their room at night. Stanford’s eyes scanned the room, habitually checking for any hidden panels, doors or cameras. There was nothing there.

Nothing obvious at any rate, but he wasn’t sure until he took apart the television. He hadn’t seen anything in the lobby or in the hall that worried him, and the hotel itself was in a walled compound. Still, he’d been on the wrong end of crime syndicates too many times in the multiverse to be completely at ease until he’d checked everything. 

The door was locked and bolted, and the door stopper firmly in place. The vent panels were all tightly secured and looked as though they hadn't been removed in some time. There was nothing under the sink in the bathroom save for some extra toilet paper. No closets. Just a rickety set of drawers that was large enough to maybe hold a shirt and a thin pair of pants, and not much else. All empty mind, except for a bible. The window was locked, and they were high enough up that it was unlikely anyone would come through the window. 

Stanford’s eyes flicked to the TV again, debating on taking it into the bathroom to disassemble or not.    

“Stop pacin’ and sleep. I ain’t above makin’ ya.”

Stanford stopped mid step, unaware he had even begun pacing.

There was a beat of silence before, “Now poindexter. Don’t make me make you…”

Stanford sat on the bed closest to the wall and sighed before leaning back on the pillows. The sheets were a bit scratchy, but smelled of cheap floral soap. Stan was right, they were cleaner than the ones on his own bed on the Stan O War. And they smelled familiar. Almost like the soap their Mom used to use. Faint, but kind of like lotion and lavender. It was both calming and unnerving at the same time. 

He closed his eyes and tried to relax. Tried to let his body grow heavy. He was tired, but his mind wouldn't stop. It wasn’t even like he had any thoughts to blame. His mind was blank; horrifically aware of everything in his surroundings. Every flash of light, creek of the floorboards. Everytime that damned TV from down the hall blasted music. He checked the door…? Yes. And the vents. Right. No closets….

“Sixer, jeezus, jus, comere..” 

Stanford turned his head to see the faint shadow of Bill reaching out his arm across the gap between the beds. He hesitated.

“I…don’t think…”

“Just ta sleep. I swear. We’re safe here. Can’t see much, but we’re not in danger.”

Stanford took a breath. “Promise?”

“Yes, now come here.”

Stanford rolled out of his bed, grabbing his boots and tucking them neatly just under the edge of Bill’s bed. He slipped in beneath the blankets and felt a thick arm wrap around his waist. His face was mushed against coarse hair and something hard settled against his glasses. The moonstone nodes still held firm woven in the unicorn hair braid. He removed his glasses and hooked them in the collar of his shirt. Reaching down, he unholstered his pistol and tucked it under the pillow, his left hand gently curled around the grip. 

Stanford inhaled, feeling some of Bill’s chest hairs tickle the inside of his nose. It was strange. He should be smelling the cheap soap from the bathroom, or the detergent from the sheets, but all he could smell was a deep woody musk. Stan’s cologne. The same stupid cologne he’d worn for decades; pilfered from some storefront on the boardwalk back home. 

Against his better judgment, Stanford pressed closer, sighing when he felt a set of fingers trail up the back of his shirt. 

They lay in calm silence for a few moments. Stan had all but started snoring, nose pressed into Ford’s scalp. 

“Why am I special to you?” Stanford murmured, lips moving against Stan’s skin. 

“Jus’ are. Bill didn’t know why and Stan doesn’t care why.”

Stanford hummed. “And what do you think?”

Stan chuckled, words slurred and rolled together as he nodded off. “I don’t. You’re here. ‘S all tha’ matters.”

It would have to be enough for now.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Sorry for doing a third request, but thinking about the thoughts you posted for, I'll carry your heart made me wonder: What does Constantine think of Jason's core once Danny shows it to him? Does he know what it is? Can he tell that Jason is absent from it and not just in a coma? How does he break that news to Danny?

I'm just gonna put all of this under a cut for spoilers. ^.^

Danny pretends that he's a human with ties to the ghost king to Constantine. He doesn't say that he's the king himself. So he shows Constantine the core, says it's his boyfriend but he's in a coma and that his name is Jason.

He doesn't say anything about him being the dead Robin. He doesn't mention ties to any heroes or Justice League members. He's just a ghost that Danny is dating who fell into a coma.

Constantine doesn't really have any reason to suspect that's wrong, either. The best Healers in the Realms all see a ghost that's retreated into its core and has gone dormant. Constantine realizes there's nothing thinking in there, perhaps. Knows that there's something wrong with it. The ghostly equivalent of brain activity just isn't there. Does that mean the ghost is dead-dead? But then he hasn't faded or cracked or broken which is usually what happens when ghosts End.

But Constantine knows what he made a bargain for. He's gonna teach this kid magic, with a focus on healing magics. Specifically magics regarding comas and enchanted sleeps and the rest.

Probably the idea of soul-walking (or whatever the DC universe calls it) gets brought up. The idea of Jason leaving his body behind to send his consciousness out to spy or visit people or places he couldn't get to otherwise.

That's not how I plan for Living!Jason and Danny to actually reunite. But it could get Danny to Gotham once or twice and introduce him to at least Dick.

(The things I mention here are subject to change, but some of them are set in stone. You'll just have to wait to find out which is which. ^.^)

[r3allywtf]

for the ask game maybe 3 or 4 ? I live for the yapping

3. What tropes do you like writing about the most?

Interesting! Hm... I'd say slow burn.

There's a story rn which to summarise, there's Earth which has a lot of fictional locations in general and loads of supernatural and folklore and myths, magic and all that exists. Then there's a world that is equivalent to fantasy and has many realms the world itself very loosely inspired by DND. This world and Earth shouldn't be accessible yet it is.

Anyways, the slow burn part! 2 of the main characters of my story, Felicity ( who's from Earth) and Ulysses (who's from that fantasy world I was talking about) take a while to warm up to each other. Ulysses comes to Earth out of curiosity and to learn of this 'realm' should his own world get more involved. He is disguised as a human Detective and eventually he and Felicity work together on cases. Both basically start as skeptical coworkers to reluctant coworkers to questioning rivals to somewhat respectable allies and so forth. It takes a while for them to admit that they're even friends of all things. 😅

Eventually she does end up in his world and isn't able to go back to Earth but they're relationship develops more there and of course lovers!

Yeah, this should've just went to the oc lore thingy but still-

Anyways, I like it because irl you shouldn't have to rush relationships. Its always bumpy. And its like that here. Plus, getting to see how 2 ( or more) become strangers, to friends, hell, even enemies, to eventually lovers? It makes everything pay off SO well. And you've seen them grown so close too where its like " yeah, of course them being together makes sense" platonic or romantic, I just love me a good ol' slow burn. You just get a lot of humanity from it and what each party gathers from each other

4. Lore dump about the oc's

Ik my previous answer had a bit of that in there but I won't be talking about those 2. Instead I'll talk about an oc I've been posting about quite a bit on here which is Vix'en! ( Or Vix'xendrian or Vix'endral or whatever. Idk. Vix!)

As previously stated on other posts, Vix is meant to be Vex and Vax's sibling if they were a pair of triplets instead of twins

I haven't gotten too much yet???

I'll probably state something that's a lil meta(?) So basically they have an insecurity about feeling... out of place with the twins. Or like they aren't as in sync as these two are with each other. Which is meta because for one: this character does not exist. Period.

For two: idk Liam and Laura 😅

So I thought it only made sense to write a bit of that somehow.

[xinalith]

Demonic Transformation [ Character Update ]

warnings: gore.

A demon's core is the equivalent of a soul; it is the host of their unique abilities and magic, whilst being the carrier of all souls collated within their existence. Overtime, to allow their bodies to adjust to their newfound strength, mutations will occur.

It is believed that this is an excruciatingly painful process as the body is actively forming to suit whatever needs the demon requires. It varies from each core and their form will continuously shift.

Xinalith breathed heavily as their talon-like claws sank into the ground, drool dripping from their large tongue and sharp fangs. Every so often, they wheezed in agony, whilst their flesh along their shoulders started to move on their own. As if something underneath was trying to lunge out, creating a gruesome, pulsing appearance on their body.

Their skeletal tail swatted side-to-side in a frenzy, body twitching in a horrific, unnatural manner as this strange occurrence tried to force its way out. To Xinalith, the sensation was a mixture of torturous scorching and endless stabbing, something that one would think a demon would be used to originating from the Infernal Realm.

But this was something else entirely.

A loud, harrowing cry tore out from their throat as their flesh split open suddenly, blood spurting out and decorating the grassy terrain around them, chunks of pale skin and hot-red muscle joining the ground whilst wings sprouted. Almost dragon-like and covered in blood and torn veins, they spread open and all the demon could do was cry and whine in ferocious pain.

Next, bones started to snap in their joints, causing Xinalith to collapse as they seemed to almost stretch out gruesomely. Their flesh tore open more as the skin tried to hold on, only for it to snap into two like a thread being cut apart. Their horns seemed to grow large too, now slowly beginning to curl at the top. On the sides of their head, just below them, a newly, pointed top burst through, now welcoming a newly-growing set of horns.

This process seemed to last forever for Xinalith, when realistically it was only approximately 15 minutes. Once the mutation had taken place, they felt a wave of relief wash over them, their chest now starting to feel much lighter in comparison to what they would have felt prior. Soft, breathless gasps fell from their open jaw as they lay there, their tail slowing down into a gentle tap on the ground.

Their newly acquainted wings slowly curled over them, covering their form like a blanket, as Xinalith simply laid their to rest their body and slowly allow the healing process to begin.

[godmirrored]

on june's powers/abilities (wip)

fire, laser, lightning and water-related powers: fire powers/association referenced here (note that june's direct association with fire is mentioned once and is NOT as strong or consistent as sylaise's), lightning is seen to activate his power crystals or other inventions, which is consistent with the concept of the "spark of imagination", which is also referenced here. june's fire being prismatic in nature is hinted at here and displayed in origins with urthemiel seen breathing multiple colors of fire, including purple. this is in keeping with the nature of his lasers (called vir eluvelin), the triangle motif, and june's mirror/reflection motif with his eluvians; remember that putting a beam of light through a clear triangular prism results in a rainbow, which is even further in thematic keeping with the idea that the fade is shaped by powers of perception as well as june's other ability of separating things into their individual constituent parts or particles.

precognition/foresight: as an entity inherently tied to the realization of potential, causality, transition, and advancement (it his death and his breach of the black city prison that were root causes of so many events that move things forward, June also has a limited form of foresight or precognition. though destiny is not entirely predetermined and even the smallest thing may change the course of fate, certain outcomes and events are assured.

telepathy and mind-reading: as mythal and elgar'nan and solas have demonstrated, the most powerful spirit entities can whisper into the minds and dreams of others at will. june is likely capable of reading thoughts, but unlike elgar'nan, he is extremely disinterested in the average mortal's thoughts and therefore tends to avoid doing so.

eluvian redirection: though eluvians typically function by one leading to its direct mate as a bonded pair, june is able to forcibly redirect an eluvian to take him wherever he wants to go, as evidenced by kieran ending up in the raw fade where flemythal was looking for him. thus, there was no need for him to invent something like solas's vi'revas, as he would have no personal use for it and inventing eluvians that could take one anywhere would lead to a public safety hazard in a pre-veil world where demons run amok freely. he is also able to use eluvians for communication purposes by casting his reflection (or possibly by conveying images of whatever he wants people to see, according to tamlen's dialogue) into them, which is clearly something he taught elgar'nan how to do as well. he can also use eluvians to trap people within endless reflections, whatever that means. woe, eluvian shadow realm be upon yes?

adaptation/shape-changing: it's similar in nature to shapeshifting except that it's constant and typically more subtle (though it should be noted that he is capable of sudden and drastic alterations to both his form and any of his immediate surroundings.) his nature and capacity as a spirit to reflects reality is not limited to his incorporeal form - his appearance also does something similar, because his body (crafted from lyrium) essentially functions as a living rune that projects beauty in the eyes and minds of all who perceive him, as well as the appearance of many of his crafts, even ones that are purely decorative in nature.

atomization: the ability to reduce things into particles or constituent materials, as evidenced by his relic and its description text + elvhen technology having many floating particles and bits associated with it.

artificing: he's essentially da's equivalent of the dnd artificer class. bellara's character is very obviously meant to mirror june's. he can take those particles from atomization and re-arrange them to create something entirely new.

transmutation/state-changing: the classic godpower of turning water into wine and lead into gold. apply enough imagination and magic to anything, and it will be forced to become whatever you want it to be. the triangular symbols with lines running through them being meant to reference fire and danger according to the concept art (which we also see in game) are inspired by real-world alchemical symbols denoting the same thing.

limited sentience endowment: june may create wisps by engendering magical energy with emotion and limited sentience through a combination of emotional and magical exertion (which can result in wisps being spawned either on purpose and inadvertently), and he can also endow his creations with a measure of sentience or resonant emotions, as evidenced by the codex about archive spirits + passages in TME about elvhen craftsmanship radiating a palpable sense that it isn't meant to be used by humans.

generative creation/magical summoning: june can seemingly summon or create endless amounts of water out of nowhere without this resulting in a flood, as evidenced by his relic. he can also generate or summon arrows or crossbow bolts out of pure magic or by taking/salvaging parts from his physical environment to spontaneously create plates or shrapnel to be used in a defensive capacity as shields at will. he can also create shields out of pure magical energy when needed.

supernatural charm and allure: as the silver-tongued entertainer of the gods, june's speech and mannerisms compel the viewer/listener to hear him out or observe him further, evoking a variety of reactions depending on the nature of the individual he's interacting with. beauty evokes strong feelings of interest, admiration, and desire, whereby june shapes his interactions with others to his advantage by using their perceptions of him. he is one of the lynchpins of elvhen trade and barter and he personally created the concept of vir sulevanan, or the right to property in exchange for performing a task, hence its association with merrill's quest to retrieve the arulin'holm, which is one of june's relics that those lacking the advanced magic and skill can use to repair eluvians. he often achieves this through manipulating his own vocal chords through the subtle yet incredibly precise application of blood magic to achieve a certain tone or pitch that resonates in a manner designed to produce a specific emotional response.

hypnosis: eye are said to be windows to the soul, after all, and not all things are meant for our comprehension. direct eye contact with june is extremely dangerous and often results in hypnosis, due to the viewer's mind being flooded with imagery that is beyond what your average mortal can or should be made to comprehend. prolonged direct eye contact with june has been known to cause lasting mental and psychic damage.

flying/floating/levitation: laws of reality, such as gravity, do not matter when we're talking about a guy who cheated the system by combining his crazy fademagic with the reality-reinforcing magic of lyrium. floating and levitating are more convenient due to june's unrealistic and idealized proportions making it difficult for him to walk the same way an anatomically correct individual does.

dreamwalking: june spent a great deal of time walking through the dreams of his followers for the sake of depositing seeds of inspiration and ideas within their minds, as he did with the titans and the dwarves in the days long before he manifested. having been freed from the form of his archdemon and later reunited with the sundered and now-disembodied original self that was in the black city, he's reclaimed all of his former powers and capabilities - and then some. his ability to manipulate the fade is considered uncanny even in the estimation of other spirits due to his immense faculty of imagination and ingenuity.

preternatural awareness: june is able to sense, 'see', and understand the composition of nearby materials (both organic and inorganic materials), as evidenced by kieran stating that an elven inquisitors blood is "very old." and that "he saw it right away."

[beedreamscape]

LONG POST. This is just an interpretation of mine, but hear me out

The only thing that separates the greatest mages in the greatest age of mages from the beings that created them is the flaw of mortality. One realm all who walk Exandria are doomed to traverse forever one day.

I love Aabria's insight on this post, but it puts Laerryn's view of the gods in a framework of power alone, and that might be all she cares about in truth, but power alone is not what we generally think of when we think of deity.

We think of worship and devotion, about philosophies and guidelines which to follow, guidance and protection.

What does Laerryn know of worship?

One plane barred from mortal egress. One plane where she believed Evandrin went that she could not follow, from which she could not fetch him. One place that would someday steal Quay from her, or vice versa.

In my opinion she knows it through Evandrin.

There's this quote I was reminded of when I read this: “It's impossible to compete with the dead. I wished I could stop trying.” ― Sharp Objects

We don't hear about Evandrin's flaws in the game, at least that I can remember, the biggest one might've been trusting Laerryn too much, giving too much, which is the equivalent of saying your biggest flaw is being a perfectionist or a workaholic in a job interview.

He's almost saintlike if you think about it, mythological. He loved Zerxus and their son, he loved Laerryn, a kind selfless man that'll never give up on looking for you, the true first Knight of Avalir standing under a blossom tree, made of amethyst and starlight. Even his death was a soft one, no bloody mess, no coffin, no grave, no corpse to tell the story, not even a true death but the simulation of one.

“Why would you let someone go—away from you—untouchable—two people? I couldn’t—I loved them too much—I saw the face of Earth and choked the life out of it and ate it whole.” ― Nona the Ninth

He has, through death gained a new status, of sanctity, in Laerryn's eyes especially. So she wants, needs, to go to him, she wants to be forgiven --- finishing the Leywright was her devotion, her marriage gutted at the altar as sacrifice, its remains stored to be revived later.

And it's harder to put those lenses on Loquatius because he's there, still flawed, still questioning her, still a nuisance to her 'worship' because staying near him means sharing the devotion, he means relishing in the feelings she, very indirectly, deprived Zerxus and Evandrin of.

But for forgiveness, she'll abstain.

She doesn't know devotion any other way.

She'll build her Tower of Babbel and reach for Evandrin again.

But alright, that's all after he's gone.

She wanted to reach over before that.

Laerryn explained her vision to me, the Astral Leywright. (...) By what token do (the gods) award themselves that title, and what realms beyond could we explore? It was a beautiful dream, and I knew that there was danger and I wanted her dream to come true.

Evandrin himself calls her plans, her dream. It's a dream that could be shared but in a way also very selfish. I really don't think she envisioned that glory and power for everyone, the same way that if the people of the age had gotten their hands on what the Matron found out they wouldn't have shared any more than she did.

Her vision was not the simple magic of the threshold crests, not a quick move, not a one-way trip, not a single destination, but truly to take a leyline off of the face of Exandria and chart it to the stars, that we could go wherever we wished and be whatever we wished, and...

That "and..." catches my attention.

Again a sole focus on the power and not the philosophies, the devotion, the love for their creation which they can't control. It loses sight of the loneliness of the divine.

Then what would be done once they all acquired that power? For what end? What did her dream entail beyond the conquest?

What was her dream for Avalir after all of this? After they surpassed Aeor, what would come next?

To me it parallels nicely with the way so much money is spent in space exploration and insane technologies then we look back at the Earth and we're killing the planet and people are dying from solvable things like hunger. And I wish I could remember where Matt says this, but somewhere he mentions how Avalir is this place of opulence and power and not all of Exandria was like that in that age, there were serious class disparities.

She's in a place of privilege where she can dream up into the stars, Avalir is literally floating on the air, there's nowhere to look but up.

Then I bring back to Loquatius, because I'm shipper trash but also because it ties into something Sam said that it was through their relationship that we see a more mundane side of her. Of all the secrets, his was the simplest one: he missed her, and after all the lights and all the noise, even if she had succeeded in all that she had planned for, it would circle back to him.

“In another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.” ― Everything Everywhere All at Once