#she did the necromancy of course and that's not to be ignored

[pricescigar]

Love Bites Pt4

Tw: Violence, gore

Summary: With the Vampire hunters banding together to rescue Elvira, little did they know they walked right into Price's trap where he wanted them to be.

“He really is an honourable man,” The maid said, talking about Price.

Honourable? What's so honourable about a monster?

Elvira stayed silent for a moment as the maid bathed her in the bathroom. The rumours weren't wrong when they said that Price was an intelligent man, many previous Vampire hunters said the Vampire King could teleport his Castle to wherever he wished, Price was a man of Science. A man of sorcery and Necromancy, an undead army of monsters and all sorts of creatures. He could transform into a bat, Wolf, whatever animal he desired.

Which made Elvira think…

“Don't you think so?” The maid cleared her throat, a little disappointed to the fact Elvira wasn't fully listening.

Elvira looked over to the maid realising that she was talking to her. “What is honourable about a man like him?” Elvira scoffed at what the maid said.

“You'll understand one day.” The maid dutifully said.

Elvira rolled her eyes slightly and mainly focused on the interior of the Bathroom. It was not like any bathroom, vastly different than all the others she had seen. She was quite privileged growing up, she had all kinds of facilities she needed. But this was much different.

After her bath, the maid dried her and took her to the dressing room to get Elvira ready for the evening. Time was of the essence, and Price wasn't a patient man at the moment.

Elvira allowed the maid to braid her hair, albeit she was a little rough but she didn't want to complain. After that she was then dressed in a beautiful linen red dress, the ends resting just by her feet. The fabric was out of this world. Richer than than all the dresses Elvira has ever worn, to match the look red shoes were placed upon her feet.

“All done.” The maid stood up. “The King would be most happy.

“Thank you,” Elvira mumbled. “And of course he would…”

The door opened and Price stepped in, although he had to bend down slightly to fight himself in the doorway. His eyes immediately went onto Elvira and smiled at the sight of her.

“You look amazing…” He complimented, taking her hand into his. Elvira couldn't get over how cold it was, alas she had no choice but to ignore it. “Let's go.” He said.

Elvira stood up and followed him out of the dress room. “So what's the occasion for tonight?” She asked again.

“You'll see.” He'd say, keeping everything vague once again.

Not saying anything Elvira continued to follow him, they walked through the corridor of the grand castle. Luckily Price was leading the way, otherwise Elvira would've gotten lost. They went down the stairs, he led her through many corridors before finally entering the dining room.

The dining room was large unlike any other, a long table stood out in the middle and many seats were placed near each other. The room itself could fit many people around the table, around 32 seats to be precise.

“Dinner? That's all?” Elvira crossed her arms looking up at him. “All of this keeping it a secret, and it's just dinner?”

“There's more to that… You ought to be patient. Seems your father has failed to teach you that.” Price mused, he pulled a chair out for her letting her sit down. Elvira sat at one end, while Price sat at the head of the table.

Elvira stayed silent and looked down to see all sorts of food was laid out for her, Price knew she would be hungry. Beside her was a large goblet of wine, all for her. Alas for Price? He would be drinking blood, as per usual.

Remaining silent, she got her cutlery and began to eat her food. Trying not to eat so fast as it would be rude, and also because she didn't want a stomach ache.

When he tasted her blood when he found her unconscious body in his bat form was magnificent, he saw how Elvira battled her father. Killing him in the process, risking her life. That's when he took the chance, he took the bite.

Though it was only a quick bite before he heard the large group of hunters rushing to Elvira's rescue. Price watched over her when she was taken back to the Hunters regime, knowing that they would send her to her death.

And now he wanted to taste her again, this blood that he was currently drinking did not suffice.

“The food is good, thank you.” Elvira spoke which made Price snap back into reality.

“Told you, it is not poisoned. Eat to your heart's content.” Price simply said.

He was nice, too nice. Which made Elvira suspicious, she knew he had something else planned but what was it?

“And the wine?” He asked.

“It's good, but what kind of wine is it? It has a strange after taste… Metallic almost.” Elvira said.

Price chuckled. “It's my own special kind of wine, if I told you what I put in it… I wouldn't be a secret. Most wines have a metallic taste.”

Elvira finished eating her dinner and drinking the goblet of wine, she placed it back onto the table.

“Sir.” Ghost walked into the dining room, looking at Elvira for a moment before looking at Price. “They're here, for her.” He said.

“Ah. It seems your little Hunter friends have arrived.” Price spoke as he stood up from his seat. “I will deal with them.”

“They're the best hunters out there, the kind that you shouldn't mess with.” Elvira stood up from her seat. “You're making a grave mistake messing with them.” She threatened him.

In a blink of an eye Price appeared beside her. “Oh really?” He chuckled at her statement.

“I'll see it for myself.” He grinned. “Keep an eye on her Ghost while we speak to them, I do not want her out of your sight, Ghost, till we feast.”

Ghost nodded, he observed the two closely as Price grabbed Elvira's hadn't gracefully to the Castle's entrance.

Elvira was beginning to become frustrated, she was tired of being trapped in this god forsaken Castle. The moonlight shone through the windows as they walked by, a thought crossed her mind… She knew the plan was risky. But it was a good one.

“Don't even think about doing what I think you're doing.” Price's grip on Elvira's arm became tight.

“I'm not staying in this Castle!” Elvira yelled at him.

“Yes. You will.” Price responded, his eyes glowing a crimson red colour. “You'll stay here for all eternity, no one shall ever take you away from me again.”

“You're insane.” Elvira spat at him.

“Maybe I am.” Price responded. He opened the door to show most of the Vampire hunters who had already been captured by Soap and Gaz. Many other vampires watched closely too, some eyeing Elvira and the others at the Hunters.

“My esteemed guests, how rude of you to walk around my land without a proper invitation. I did not invite you did I?” Price finally let go of Elvira as he stepped towards the Hunters.

“Let them go Dracula, you already have me. That should be enough.” Elvira said, but Price ignored her.

“You traitor Elvira, you're just like your father.” Jacob spoke. “We should've killed you when we had the chance.” He said in anger.

“You were the ones to send her to death.” Price stepped towards Jacob. “And now I have the love of my life back, I bid you thank you… Jacob.” He smiled before he used his claws, piercing a hole through his chest ripping out his beating heart.

Elvira's eyes widened witnessing what Price had done, she was at a loss for words.

“Now, let us feast.” Price gave the order to his men. With the last thirty nine hunters that were helpless, unable to do anything. The Vampires quickly attacked.

It became a blood bath quickly, men and women screaming in pain while the Vampires feasted upon their blood. Elvira felt her adrenaline kicked in while they were preoccupied, she quickly took her chance to escape. Grabbing one of the Hunter’s weapons, before she ran into the forest.

One of the Vampires that was not Price, nor his trusted men noticed this. With his hunger not satisfied enough. He stalked Elvira as she ran into the forest.

Elvira ran as fast as she could in the forest, she didn't know where she was going. Anything to get her away from the Castle.

Price noticed that she was no longer around. “Where the hell is Elvira?!” He looked around, all of his men were present, all except for one.

“Hm.” He mumbled, he sensed her in the forest, her heart beating fast.

Transforming into his Wolf form Price quickly ran into the forest, leaving the rest of his men at the Castle. Catching more of her scent as he ran.

“Finally I get to have you all to myself.” A voice spoke out loud.

Elvira stopped running as she heard the voice. She turned to see a Vampire she saw earlier in the courtyard. It wasn't Price, one of his minions.

“Elvira Wolff, the famous Hunter.” He stepped towards her. “You killed my brother.” The Vampire spoke.

“Well like most, Vampires are a plague in this world.” Elvira responded, she kept the crossbow close to her before aiming it at him.

The Vampire laughed. “I'm going to enjoy feasting on you.” He said as he stepped towards her.

Elvira shot the crossbow, which had a coating of holy water on it. The Vampire groaned in pain, holding onto his arms for a moment.

“You fucking bitch, You'll pay for that when I fucking kill you and feast on your blood.” He hissed, he quickly walked towards her using his claws to cut her arm.

Elvira groaned in pain slightly, dropping the crossbow from her hands. The Vampire pinned her down on the ground by her throat, almost squeezing the life out of her.

“When I finally kill you, the Wolff family will be finished.” He laughed mockingly. “You'll be my little pet when I'm done with you.”

Elvira gasped for breath as she tried to pull his hand away from her throat. His strength was too great, despite him being injured by the holy water.

The Vampire opened his mouth agape revealing his canine teeth, ready to rip out her jugular with his teeth.

She felt herself almost fading away, her eyes almost closing. She was losing oxygen quickly, the light in her eyes almost fading away

Price found the both of them, transforming back into his Vampiric form. He sped up towards him and grabbed the Vampire off of Elvira's body.

Elvira gasped for breath as she coughed, trying to regulate her breathing. Holding onto her throat gently.

“Your majesty-” The Vampire tried to speak, but Price didn't want to hear any of it.

“Your punishment will be death.” Price ripped out his jugular with his claws, blood pouring out of the man's throat all over Price and on the ground. With his strength he ripped the man's body apart, his intestines and organs falling down on the grass.

Price breathed heavily, dropping the man’s ripped half body on the ground, looking over to see Elvira on the floor. Quickly walking towards her, kneeling down as he placed his hands either side of her cave.

“Breathe gently,” He whispered.

Elvira took a few moments to compose herself, when she opened her eyes she saw Price. There was a hunt of worry in his eyes. She saw the blood all over his clothes, she quickly knew it wasn't his.

“Fuck…” Her voice was hoarse.

“You're fine, that Vampire won't bother you anymore.” Price sat her up gently, he brushed the strands of her hair away from her face.

Elvira cleared her throat slightly. “Thank you…” She whispered softly.

“Let's get you back.” Price spoke softly, he lifted her up bridal style and stood up. Keeping her close to his chest, holding onto her tightly as he began to walk back to the Castle.

[noodyl-blasstal]

Pretty huge Doughnuts

The word count's droppin', but I'm not stoppin' - @taznovembercelebration day 15. Prompt "baby"

Read below or on Ao3. Missed yesterday's catch it here.

-

“You’re doing what now?”

“Planning Lup a baby shower.”

“Lup’s pregnant?” Barry’s voice is doing something high pitched and weird and Taako’s unsure exactly what the fuck is going on, but someone’s forgotten they have like 8 PhDs.

“Wanna think that through, Barold? Do you think that maybe she might have told you if she’d cracked that one.”

Barry looks less panicked. “Yeah… fair. Uh.”

“Anyway.” Taako ploughs on valiantly, he’ll pull this one out at a later date, once Barold thinks he’s forgotten. “I’m planning a baby shower for her.”

“If she’s not pregnant…” Barry starts.

“Which she isn’t.” Taako adds, helpfully.

“Yeah. Uh. Which she isn’t.” Barry looks pale still, poor, sweet idiot. “... then why are you throwing her a baby shower?”

“It took her more than nine months to birth the thesis” Taako says, he shrugs because it’s obvious, obviously. He doesn't know why literally no one so far has understood. They're definitely the problem.

Barry’s still scrunkling his face up like Taako's being irrational. The joke's on him because Taako's never irrational.

“She’s had a tonne of appointments.”

“Uh huh.”

"She brought new life into the world."

"The necromancy thing isn't part of the main thesis after, you know, the legal issues."

“I meant the concepts, not the zombie. Anyway the university are cowards for not embracing him." Before they get into the ethics of free education after reanimation Taako diverts Barry again. "She had to do that scan.”

“What scan? Wait, Taako, do you mean the MRIs she did for the data collection?”

“Now you get it.”

“I…”

“Cha’boy found this banner.” Taako unfurls it dramatically and holds it up, it’s gold and spangly and far too much, which is, of course, the perfect amount.

“Congratulations, it’s a…” Reads Barry.

“PhD!” Taako replies. “I’m gonna write it in and add flames. It’ll be great.”

“She’ll love the flames.” Says Barry, probably trying to tactfully dissuade Taako from the rest. Optimistic fool.

“I made a game for us where we have to guess the circumference of her thesis. There's prizes.”

“Is the thesis measurement bound or unbound?” Asks Barry far too fast. Oooooh, Taako has him on board now. Suddenly he loves BaPhD showers.

“No can do, Bluejeans, you wouldn’t want to cheat, would you? Wouldn’t want to ruin Lup’s special day by making it all about winning?”

“No.” Says Barry, unconvincingly.

“No cheating, Barold!”

Barry doesn’t say anything. Taako never should have taken Bluejeans under his wing, he’s created a monster.

“What’s a baby snack?”

"Mush?"

"No, like, for this."

“Are you asking what a baby thesis would eat?” Barry sounds more delighted by the concept than he should be.

“Baby researchers, I assume.” Chews them up, spits them out, not that Taako’s bitter. He’s fine. He can come back any time. Any time the police get round to officially clearing him. Not that it’s a problem, he’s not bothered about his degree anyway. He’s peachy. It’s not weird to see Lup get her doctorate before him when they were supposed to do it together.

Barry seems to realise he’s triggered some kind of horror even though Taako's definitely doing an incredibly normal face. He's going to try sand be nice about it.

“What are PhD snacks?” He asks before Barry can say anything kind.

“Pretty huge doughnuts.” Barry replies without hesitation. Taako knew there was a reason he kept him around.

Taako makes a note in his phone. Giant doughnuts mean giant frying, mean big oil, mean big pan.

“Why’re we making big doughnuts?” Kravitz asks, cracking the door to his room.

Of course it was food discussion that summoned him from his regimented work schedule (ignoring what he needed to do because he got distracted by other things and then panic typing up everything for his deadline.) It bodes well for Taako’s ongoing wooing, the stuff about hearts and stomachs was true probably, but Taako was also hoping to make his way to Kravitz’s di…

“Taako’s throwing Lup a surprise baby shower.” Barry cuts through Taako’s wandering thoughts. “We’re planning the menu.”

“Oh.” Says Kravitz. “For her PhD? Neat!”

-

Hey, hey, enjoyed that? Find the next prompt here!

[spider-beetle-bee]

Partners In crime.

LMK Various x Demon!Reader

GN Reader; Not romance based; This takes place in season 3, Not too long after they are officially running from LBD. So MK has no abilities, correct me if I'm wrong. 

Reader is a demon of sorts, In short you can temporarily raise the dead. In order to gain more power you must either kill and absorb a living things living essence or a creature you "Revived" kills something. Whatever you raise has some form of chains on them, Usually the cuff(?) of the chains are centered around the creatures neck, arms, and legs. 

You chose what you look like but you do have chains hanging from your arms with the cuffs being around your wrists. You carry around a staff with a lantern hanging on the end of it. You chose what you and the staff/lantern look like. As long as something has died you can summon it, Doing so does physically and energy wise weaken you. As for who's side you're on? The winning side.

Type:No specifics

You looked down from the building at the large Mech, Barely keeping to the shadows. Eyes widening at the sight, watching as the boy had lost the Monkey King's staff to the The Lady Bone Demon herself.  You had been trying to keep up on the news of her, But ever since she had been released from DBK you hadn't been able to keep up with any news. Although it is very hard to ignore the giant mech destroying half the city.

During your thought process the staff had been encased in stone and the boy had fled, The spider queen giving him time to do so. Of course you were intrigued but who would you help? If you wanted to help the Ivory Lady then you could just sit here and have a unfortunate ending, Or you could help the people that seem to be failing very miserably now....Yeah that seemed to be the best option. You stood up, Allowing yourself to be quickly surrounded by green souls to get out of the overall area, The lantern swinging slightly as you arrived at your destination. 

You were falling.

"OH SH*T!!" You held tightly onto your staff, Surrounding yourself with souls again, This time landing onto a flying drone thing. Making a loud clanking sound. You unfortunately having landed on your face, Interrupting the speech The Monkey King was giving. Everyone turning to look at you, Everyone being clearly on edge, You stood up fixing your (H/L) (H/C) hair, Looking over the group you let out a whistle.

"Bad time to drop in?" You barely had time to get that out before the Pig man started yelling at you. The very beat up Monkey King standing infront of the group, dispite his obvious lack of power, "Who Are you?! How did you get here?!!" The pig man was holding the boy with spikey hair behind him. While the green dragon girl stood beside the pig and Monkey. The Monk standing next to the map protectively. Infact it all looked like they were. 

You raised your hands in defense, A nervous smile curving onto onto your features. Your staff had long gone into a "Sentient" mode, The lantern hanging on your hip with the staff itself positioning itself infront of you protectively. "Woah! Gettin' a little uhhmm...Jumpy aren't we?" your voice didn't come out half as scared as you thought it was going to be, "You never answered, The question. Who. Are. You." Monkey king narrowed his eyes at you, "Glad you asked, I am [Name]! The Ruler of necromancy!! and I want to help." 

First oneshot done! Obviously I will make a part 2 at some point, Tell me what you think of this! And I'll see you next time! Thanks for reading! I ended up cross-posting this from my Quotev.

[unreadpoppy]

Gwen and Raph shenannigans

little something that's been on my mind. Also yes, this is exactly what I did in my run of the game.

...

Raphael looked at the pink tiefling sitting in front of him, on his bed, her feet dangling. He sighed, putting a hand on his face.

"Let me see if I understand correctly: You and your friends found a way to my house, entered it without permission, talked with Korrilla, the Archivist, even with a projection of Hope, begging for help, which you chose to ignore."

He continued. "Then you lied your way into my boudoir, tried to bed my incubus and after you refused him, you killed him, his imps, and looted his body."

"Yup." Gwen nodded her head. "That seems correct, although some details are missing."

The devil waved one of his arms. "Oh please, enlighten me."

"Well, I tried to get a passage into your house through normal ways, but that damned diabolist charged too high a price, so I killed her. Then it was how I found the way to open the portal here, since she carried the book with the ritual with her - kinda stupid on her part if you ask me but oh well, it helped my cause." Raphael only raised a brow while listening.

"The little vampire spawn you have is a rogue." He said. "I'm sure he could have pickpocketed the diabolist."

"But what's the fun on that?" She retorted, with a look on confusion on her face. Why would she steal when killing was much easier?

"Anyways, I should make very clear that after I opened up the portal, I told everyone to go back to camp."""But what's the fun on that?" She retorted, with a look on confusion on her face. Why would she steal when killing was much easier? "Anyways, I should make very clear that after I opened up the portal, I told everyone to go back to camp."

"Why would you come alone to a devil's house?!" Raphael asked increduously.

"Gods, you sound like my mother with that tone." She whispered. "I didn't want them to know what I was going to do."

"So this was all premeditated?"

Gwen threw her hands in the air. "Of course it was! I knew what I was doing the whole time. Well, maybe except for Haarlep." The tiefling stood up and walked past him, grabbing a bottle of wine and serving herself. "Anyways, I got here and that Hope girl tried to ask for my help, which I told her no because honestly, what an annoying woman that is." She took a sip from the goblet. "I read the stuff in your house, do not know what you saw in her."

When Raphael opened his mouth to speak, she raised a finger, downing the rest of the drink. "I'm not done yet." Gwen took a deep breath. "Anyways, after she disguised me, I walked around, saw your room full of portals, spoke with those skeletons, told one of them about Moonrise, he seemed happy. Also why the hell did you have Gortash as a kid here? Never struck you for someone who liked children."

"I don-"

"Anyways," she ignored him "Found Korrilla, and I tried to tell her I didn't mean any harm coming here but she only said to be careful. Spoke with that archivist and he said I could go to the boudoir and Haarlep was there." Gwen looked at Raphael. "He said he was an exact copy but I don't buy it. Your noses were different." She shrugged. "I think you look handsomer than he did, but regardless, he tried to talk me into letting him have control over my body and I wasn't going to do that, so I killed him."

"How did you do so, alone and naked?"

"Some time ago I read this book, the Necromancy of Thay. Now I can summon some ghouls to help me." She raised a hand. "Want to see?"

"NO." Raphael shouted. He sighed, pinching his nose. It had been at that moment that the master of the house arrived, while the tiefling robbed the body of the now dead incubus. It was probably not even cold yet, and she had already looted it.

Raphael shook his head. "But why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you have the trouble of coming here and doing all of this?" Unless she had tried to steal her contract back, Raphael finished the sentence in his mind.

Gwen shrugged. "I've always been a curious woman."

He eyed her suspiciously. What she said appeared to be true, but he still had his doubts. The devil would take the truth out of her. "Were you attempting to steal your contract back?" His eyes darkened. "If you were, that would hav-"

Gwen interrupted him by breaking into a laughing fit, holding her stomach. "Hells no, Raphael!" She exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing ever. "Why would I try to do that? I made you a deal, signed a contract, got my end of it..." She caught her breath. "I'm also a woman of my word, dear. If I said I would give you the crown, I intend on doing it to the best of my ability."

Raphael stood there, confused and perplexed. None of what she just said made any sense, neither in the hells or in the material plane.

Suddenly, he felt soft lips on his cheek and a hand on the other. He looked down at the tiefling who had just kissed his cheek. "Well, I'm on my way now, before my friends question where I've been." She walked past him, her tail brushing his leg. "See you when I have the crown." She winked at him and ran away.

He felt the moment Gwen walked into the portal, returning to the material plane. The devil walked over to Haarlep, examining his body and realized...

She took the damn Helldusk gloves with her. Raphael chuckled and shook his head. He would have to speak with Korrilla about keeping an eye on diabolists, upping the security of the house and have her discover what Gwen's favorite dishes were.

He had promised dinner if she got the crown, after all.

[dragonologist-writings]

Title: Violent Delight Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3 Rating: M Status: One-Shot Characters: Naia (F!Tav), Araj Oblodra Ships:Naia/Araj Additional Notes: Belligerent Sexual Tension, Blood, Background Naia/Shadowheart, Flirting but in an Evil Scientist way Word Count: 2.7k Summary: Araj makes a proposition. Against her better judgment, Naia accepts.

read below or here on ao3

It’s unnerving, how easily Naia can move through Moonrise Towers. Convenient, yes, of course- but unnerving, all the same.

She clutches her bag closely to her side, putting her utmost effort into appearing cool and confident as she sweeps out of Balthazar’s rooms, still half-expecting to be caught and questioned at any moment. The guards watch the gray-skinned tiefling as she goes, but it is with little interest; she has been verified as a True Soul. In their eyes, she belongs here.

The belief, she admits, is not even a particularly misguided one. Balthazar did send her here, did put her on the lead to understanding more of his research, and it would be a lie to claim that his teachings on the deeper levels of necromancy were received without a small, begrudging amount of admiration. That admiration gnaws at Naia’s stomach with an echo of guilt…but it does make it easier for her to play the part of a willing student in Ketheric’s loyal army.

Naia descends the long staircase and makes it halfway through the entrance hall without incident, and the tension within her begins to ease. It was wise to come here alone, she knows this. Ketheric’s guards may not prove so amenable to a large group attempting to navigate the fortress’s upper levels, but she is quick and capable enough on her own. And this way, she does not have to worry about her companions’ eyes upon her as she studiously unravels the undeniably impressive magic woven by Moonrise’s necromancer.

Yet she is also anxious to be done with this place and return to her friends waiting just outside the gates. Mostly, she is anxious to return to Shadowheart, who has sequestered herself within the locked rooms of Shar’s Gauntlet so as to better focus on her trials. This solitude is just one of many worrying tendencies Shadowheart has indulged in as of late, and Naia can only hope-

“You there.”

Naia winces at the voice, but it is too late to duck and run. With no small amount of reluctance, she turns to greet the drow woman sauntering across the hall with a self-satisfied smirk on her lips.

A look of such smugness upon the face of Araj Oblodra cannot be a good sign. Unfortunately, Naia dares not risk ignoring her outright; the drow is the only one in Moonrise who seems to realize Naia’s true loyalties. As of yet, she has not cared enough to announce this to anyone else, but recent events have left things tense between them, and her good grace is surely wearing thin.

Those same events have also thinned Naia’s patience, and despite her resolve to remain diplomatic, her voice is curt as Araj draws near. “If you’re here to ask me about Astarion again, the answer is still no.”

The woman’s red eyes flash with petulant anger, but her pointed smirk remains in place. “How adorably stubborn of you. But regarding my intentions, you are wrong- a feeling which I’m certain you are quite familiar with.”

Naia has no interest in granting this woman the benefit of doubt. “As I told you before,” she hisses, stepping closer so as to shield their conversation from passing soldiers, “he is not inclined to speak with you, let alone do anything else with you. A feeling which I’m certain you are quite familiar with.”

Araj tilts her head, that look finally slipping from her face. “Such a clever little tongue,” she says, a hint of dark amusement still lurking under her tone. “A pity it’s wasted on a creature with no spine.”

“If you’re not here to say anything useful-”

“I speak the truth,” Araj snaps, cutting through Naia’s words. “I’m not here for him. I’m here for you.”

The resulting look on Naia’s face must betray her emotions, for Araj releases a sharply delighted laugh. “Not for that, my darling. Some may find your demon’s nature enticing, but I am a lady of more acquired taste. What I require from you is for a purely scientific purpose, I assure you.”

Naia crosses her arms, her tail swishing angrily against the stone floor behind her. “You still haven’t told me what you actually want.”

“Is it not obvious, for a specimen such as yourself?” Araj asks, cloyingly sweet yet still somehow dripping condescension. “I am a sanguine alchemist. I want your blood.”

Naia stiffens, arms tightening around herself. “No.”

Her quick response earns a scoff from Araj. “You remain too easily offended. This is as much for your benefit as mine. Allow me to draw a sampling of your blood, and I shall distill a portion of it into a potion, which you may have and use however you see fit. A trade more than fair, considering I shall be doing all the work. All you have to do is bleed.”

The answer should, once again, be a quick and decisive no. Yet against her better judgment, Naia asks, “What will the potion do?”

Araj’s entire demeanor seems to brighten, her eyes sparkling at Naia’s reluctant interest. “I don’t know. Each one I make is unique, attuned to the blood of its source. And you…you are more unique than most, True Soul. Are you not curious as to what may come of it?” She licks at her lips; her gaze sharpens into something hungry. “I am.”

If only an honest denial could be made. But Naia is curious by nature, and her attentions are often most caught with subjects that others consider best left alone. The pages upon pages of necromancy research stowed away in her bag right now are testament enough to that fact.

Araj waits through Naia’s internal arguments, but finally rolls her eyes and gives an impatient toss of her hair. “Don’t give me that sour face, darling. It will only take but a moment of your time.”

“Fine,” Naia relents. These potions may be useful; if she observes carefully, she may even be able to reverse-engineer Araj’s formula and process. It is, overall, a pragmatic decision.

Araj lifts her chin in triumph, and Naia is quick to add, “But take one drop more than necessary and I shall rot the flesh from your bones.”

The answering laughter from Araj is almost fond. She turns on her heel and waves for Naia to follow as she sets off to her makeshift laboratory. Naia obliges, and she is relieved to see that the space is empty; if she’s going to do this, she’d rather do it without the Moonrise guards hanging over her head.

Once in the lab, Araj’s bearing shifts, if only slightly. She makes her way to a corner of the room and begins clearing her books and scrolls, her movements sharp and focused. Soon enough, she has assembled a collection of glass vials and alchemical ingredients, some of which even Naia cannot name. Each action she takes in this process is precise and intentional; her fingers are deft as she arranges the glass-encased chemicals, her eyes vibrant as she assembles the space exactly to her liking with gleeful anticipation.

Loathe as Naia is to admit it- and oh, she is loathe to admit it- there is something about the woman that makes her just as intriguing as she is infuriating. Such devotion to her craft can only be admired, and few others can claim to have reached her level of passion for this type of science. While her methods are hardly standard…well, Naia is once more reminded of the research in her bag, and the spells inscribed in her own grimoire. She is hardly one to judge.

Hells, Naia’s begrudging interest is perhaps a signal of danger all on its own. Gods know that her own tastes have always had a tendency towards the ill-advised.

Araj finally steps back from the table, apparently satisfied with its arrangement. She pulls a chair forward and looks to Naia, blood-red eyes gleaming. She must be proud of those eyes, seeing as how she decorates the skin around them with identical red shimmer, emphasizing the striking color. Araj’s smirk sharpens as she catches Naia’s watching gaze, and she waves a hand over the chair in exaggerated welcome.

“Please, darling- make yourself comfortable.”

That won’t be happening, so Naia settles for dropping herself stiffly in the offered seat. Araj circles her finger through the air in a get on with it motion, and with a deep breath through gritted teeth, Naia rolls up the sleeve of her robe and presents her bared arm.

This is the part she is looking forward to the least- but when Araj’s hands make contact, it’s not as bad as she was expecting. In fact, there’s something oddly comforting in the detached professionalism of the drow’s touch, in the precise press of her fingers as she searches for a vein. Her fingers are cold, and as she trails them down Naia’s arm, she leaves goosebumps in her wake.

Araj is silent as she locates her desired point of study, even as she picks up the scalpel and vial. It’s only when she presses the sharp blade into Naia’s skin that she releases a small sigh of contentment.

Naia herself barely reacts to the cut; this pinprick is nothing compared to other injuries she’s received these last few weeks. Her muscles barely quiver at all as she watches Araj stare at the trickling blood, bright red against pale ashen skin.

“I wasn’t sure you’d have any to give at all,” Araj murmurs as the blood slowly collects into the vial, which she keeps in place with a summoned Mage Hand. “You look half a corpse already.”

“With your proficiency for astounding scientific observations, you might have noticed I am a necromancer.”

“That’s hardly an excuse, darling. I know Balthazar considers himself a genius, but you needn’t go following his example. You’ll decay into a boring old husk and lose the pleasure of this.” The scalpel presses just a little harder, and Naia releases a sharp hiss of a gasp- more in irritation than anything else, she insists to herself.

“Isn’t it a beautiful thing?” Araj continues blithely, her voice sinking into that awful, sensual rhythm of hers. “The bite of the pain…the slow drip of the blood…the fragility of the connection as your lifeblood spills for the sake of another’s pleasure…have you truly never been tempted by the idea?”

“Hard as it may be for you to believe,” Naia bites out, “vampirism has never appealed to me.”

Araj’s dreamy expression shifts into a pout. “No…of course not. That’s not quite your type, is it? But what about that Sharran that used to cling to you? Does she not spill blood for her goddess? Is her devotion so different from my desire?” As she speaks, she studies Naia’s reaction, a single eyebrow raised as a taunting lilt enters her tone. “Where is she now, by the way?”

The mention of Shadowheart does more to affect Naia than Araj’s little blade ever could…but she’ll be damned if she lets Araj see that. “Nowhere that is any of your business.”

Araj sighs, a taunting, pitying sound. “Nor yours, I should think. Those Sharrans always did guard their shrine so jealously. Is that why you’re here alone? Has she gone and locked herself away from you, to better offer herself up to something grander?”

“Do you remember when I threatened to rot the flesh from your bones?” Magic flares in time with Naia's anger, and the air around them grows colder. But Araj hardly seems intimidated; in fact, she chuckles.

“How could I forget?” Her lips curl upwards in amusement at Naia’s answering silence. “Let the Sharrans have their hiding hole, I say. Their dark lady will never deliver on her promises, no matter how much they bleed on her behalf. That is where the gods and I differ. I could show you something truly worth your pain.”

Cold fingers curl over Naia’s arm, and Naia wants both to pull away from the touch and lean in closer. It’s a foolish notion, and more than that it is petty…but Naia must admit, not all of the anger she carries today is pointed towards Araj. Something in her chest does ache at the way Shadowheart has closed herself off in the walls and shadows of that temple.

So when she should withdraw and snap once more at Araj to back off, Naia instead locks her dark eyes on the drow’s face and allows herself to lean the smallest bit forward. “And just what does that mean, blood-witch?”

“Are you interested in finding out, necromancer?”

“…I might be.”

Araj hums, and she shifts ever closer to Naia. Her tongue darts out to lick at her lips, and her fingernails dig just a little deeper into Naia’s arm. Where once she’d been standing above the tiefling as she drew her blood, she’s now practically in her lap, and her leg slides slowly against the skirt of Naia’s robes.

“Isn’t that adorable…” Araj breathes. “All your bluster, and you wish to be the one at my mercy? Are you imagining my teeth at your neck, your blood on my lips?”

Naia wasn’t. But Gods, she is now.

She swears Araj must be able to read her mind, because her eyes gleam even more viciously. Those eyes roam over Naia’s body, taking her in with an air of greed. Silver hair has fallen from where it was tucked behind her ear, and Naia is struck with the inane urge to brush it from her face- yet she also finds herself frozen in place, unable to move even as Araj presses herself closer. Naia’s stomach twists in a heated combination of anxiety and anticipation.

And then Araj pulls away, twisting a stopper onto the vial which Naia had all but forgotten about. “Done.”

A shaky breath escapes Naia’s lips; blood trickles down her arm from the cut left unattended. Araj stows away the small glass vial and returns to Naia’s side in a flash; her thumb traces over the cut, and with a small surge of unexpected healing magic the skin stitches itself back together. The blood remains, and Araj’s touch is not quite gentle as she smears it with her thumb and runs her hand down Naia’s arm, leaving red fingerprints down to Naia’s wrist.

“You were a perfect specimen, darling. What a shame it is, then, that I prefer to be the one bitten,” Araj muses as she lifts Naia’s wrist to her mouth. Her lips press a kiss against Naia’s thudding pulse; her teeth graze and tease at the skin, but nothing more, and then she’s pulling away again with a violently victorious edge to her voice as she whispers, “Were I so inclined, I’m certain you would be delicious.”

She then turns back to her assembly of vials, and her professional demeanor settles into place even as Naia is left half-frozen in the chair. The tiefling swallows and shakes her head, and finally regains enough composure to ask, “What about…”

“Your potion?” Araj responds innocently, throwing a smirk over her shoulder. “It will take some time to prepare. You may return for it tomorrow.”

It’s a clear dismissal, one that leaves Naia’s head reeling, as if she’s just lost a round of lanceboard she hadn’t even realized she was playing. But she rises to her feet, ordering her legs not to shake as she does so, forcing herself back to the state of passive distaste she’d held before Araj sunk her scalpel in.

“Tomorrow, then, if you insist on dragging your feet. I would have thought someone who thinks so highly of themselves would be capable of a quicker delivery, but I suppose even that is too much to expect in a place like this.”

It’s a weak barb, but it’s enough to let Naia leave with some small semblance of pride still intact, and to let herself pretend she does not feel Araj’s smug, crimson gaze on her as she goes.

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Rosemary Kane Species: Spellcaster Occupation: Receptionist at Mother Morta's Nursing Home Age: 36 Years Old Played By: Grace Face Claim: Margot Robbie

"Let them underestimate me- I’ll look hotter than them while I’m surpassing them."

TW: Parental death, misogyny

For twelve generations, the secrets of necromancy were passed down to the eldest sons of the Kane line. A portrait of the first in the family line, Cornelius Kane, had loomed over the mantel in Rosemary’s childhood home. She could remember her youth spent staring up into the face of a long since dead relation, and the torrent of emotions that came with it. Pride, that her family had mastered the most complicated arcane practices, and had gained mastery over death itself in the years since Cornelius had began his endeavor to conquer mortality. Sorrow, that she was, as all her relatives reminded her, the disappointing end to a dynasty. 

Rosemary Kane was the only daughter of the last living son of the Kane name. Years passed and still there were no heirs to the Kane line. Despite the fact, the family was happy enough. After all, there was always the hope that little Rosie could have a little brother one day. Of course, no one had ever dreamed a threat as trivial as a vampire would kill a member of the Kane family, much less turn one. No one ever spoke about that night, and Rosemary had been far too young to remember much of it. But she did remember one night, her father had sent her crying mother off with a strange man, and her mother simply never returned. The truth of her turned mother’s disappearance after leaving with who, years later, she would determine to be a vampire slayer was never explicitly told to her- ladies and their sensitivities seemed to be the excuse not to rehash it. But the death of her mother seemed to be the death of hope for the Kane family’s future.

Unfortunately for Rosemary’s father, and therefore there would be no heir to keep the family tradition, the girl was all but ignored by her family. Rosemary never spoke it aloud but the older she got, the more she hoped that maybe, just maybe, her father would make an exception and teach her. But no matter how hard she tried to ingratiate her father to her, the man simply dismissed her. Upon graduating college, she told her father of her desire to learn- to carry on the family tradition. It didn’t need to die with her- times had changed, and she was just as determined and capable as any son of his would have been. 

She could recall the deafening silence of the moments after she declared her intentions. The crackle of the fire in the hearth, the bitter winter wind screaming outside, and all the while the portrait or Cornelius Kane loomed over her like a foreboding specter.  

It shouldn’t have surprised her to hear no. It shouldn’t have hurt. She’d known her whole life her father was unwilling to compromise for the sake of his own family. So she left her family’s Connecticut home in search of instruction elsewhere. 

To add insult to injury, it was very difficult to find someone to teach her, due to the fact that necromancy was heavily frowned upon in most polite arcane circles. After several years of scrounging what little information she could, she got a name, and place. Aleksander Nowak in Wicked’s Rest, Maine. 

It took a lot of begging and transparency, but at long last, the man agreed to train her. Since then, she’s worked tirelessly to learn as much as she could, if not to prove to the Kane’s that she was more than capable of carrying on the family legacy, then to herself. 

Character Facts:

Personality: Clever, charismatic, perseverant, sociable, tenacious, prideful, impulsive, vain, willful, unethical

She’s a sucker for a good karaoke night. The second Rosemary found out about The Siren’s Song, she became a frequent customer. She’s there at least once every other week.

Her car has a bedazzled license plate frame.

She was the social chair of her university’s chapter of the Delta Psi sorority. While she didn’t attend UMWR, as an alum she’s been known to pop up at philanthropic events to pitch in. She’s also great at party planning due to this experience. 

She almost always has her pink, sticker covered e-reader with her. On her days off, she can often be found cozied up in the corner of A Latte to Love with a dirty chai latte with caramel drizzle and a romance novel.

She lives in a cute little cottage in Oldtown. The crocus lawn, flower garden, and stained glass windows make up for the ghost roommate that enjoys screwing with her electronics at all hours of the night. As a result, she’s fairly nocturnal, and can often be found out and about, enjoying the town’s nightlife. She’s particularly fond of The Raven

While practicing necromancy, it’s become a hobby of hers to make dead rats do the exact choreography of *NSYNC’s Bye Bye Bye. It’s great entertainment for a night in.

[hopeforkitten]

Astarion in his relationship with Tav did not ignore her words in the house of hope, he will definitely remind about them

"- Really? So all my sweet verified speeches pale for you before the appeal "little mouse" from the mouth of Raphael?"

Astarion usually did not leave his tent until lights out, but this time something made him linger. Tav decided not to wait for him and sat down on the mat and continued reading the last book that they started together. Of course, The Necromancy of Thay attracted the most attention, but the memories of trying to read it were fresh, which is why this creepy book lay untouched, shone with a purple crystal and made indecently many sounds for the book.

- What a little mouse is gnawing pages in my library - Astariona barely touching Tav with his hand drew a line along her shoulders.

Tav looked up from her book and gave Astarion a condescending look, as if after a bad joke.

- If you were an archdevil, it would have a much greater effect - she still couldn't help but smile

- I'm afraid this whim will be the most difficult for me, - he was already sitting next to Tav - I'm sorry to hope that vampires still excite you - he turned his face away from she and rolled his eyes

- You can be sure of that - the book finally fell on the mat. Tav turned to him and gently took his chin and pulled him to her for a kiss.

- And what made you stay late?

- it seemed to me that it was logical to ask a question about necromancy to the Withers, but he does not want to answer them. To be honest, skeletons just look much nicer than skeletons with leftover skin," he grimaced

- This creepy thing does not give me peace - he pointed to the necromancy folio - you need to put it away in a drawer, or give it to the Minsk animal, it's still no use

-We still haven't visited the magic tower in the city, as Gale recommended. Most likely, the solution is very close. A little more and you will send an army of dead on the heads of our enemies. - Tav ran her hand along the horizon and turned back to Astarion - Do you like it?

He intercepted her hand and pressed it to his cheek, blissfully closing his eyes.

- Very like

[sharffffff]

TES Fest #1

Breath / Forbidden

OC Featured: Taren Velas

Spoilers for ESO Necrom finale (idc it was used in promotional materials, still spoilers)

As soon as the vision of the second glyphic dissipated, Taren blinked twice and sighed. They didn't know what they were expecting from all that "forbidden knowledge that could destroy the entire Nirn by just being remembered" nonsense Mora kept whispering in their ear, but this wasn't it.

An entire Daedric Prince, forgotten, just like that. Her cultists, her daedric followers, even other Princes have forgotten about her ever existing. And the only reason she was ever remembered was one of her closest followers getting a strange dream. Dreams cannot be ignored, of course, especially those sent to Daedra, who are thought to be incapable of dreaming... but going after the most well-kept, most hidden, most forbidden memory of Hermaeus Mora, one that they themself forgot that they had? All because of the dream? Torvesard was a bold one, Taren had to give it to him. Bold and loyal.

Taren slightly chuckled under their breath after that thought. Yeah, of course, Torvesard went into the depths of Apocrypha because of his dream, but how is Taren better? If anything, they're worse. They're not here because of their duty, not even because of their deal with Mora, and not really to "save both Apocrypha and Nirn", like many would love to believe.

No, "Fate's Proxy" was here just because they were bored. And learning some forbidden knowledge while doing some small favors on the side is a good way to get rid of at least a bit of boredom. They were almost dreading how they were going to spend the majority of their existence in the future, as the mere concept of complete immortality was still foreign to them.

And if even the forbidden knowledge didn't completely satiate their boredom... Taren wasn't sure what would. If even fighting Aspect of Vaermina didn't as much as inconvenience them, what could? They have faced down too many Daedric Princes by now for anything to matter, so the only reason they were still doing all of this was to make sure Tamriel still existed - although even this reason had began to lose its importance.

Taren knew they had to do something to reignite their interest, and Forgotten Prince... she could mean something. Potentially not, but the very chance to discover something new had ignited a new spark in Taren's... not soul, but vestige would be the more correct term. Even though it's been more than twenty years since they stopped being mortal, they never quite got used to it. And with immortality, there is never really any risk, and with no risk, there's no motivation to take anything seriously. Taren didn't understand how more Daedra didn't go completely insane, but the answer probably lies in them never having been mortal, never having that second perspective. They were lucky.

"What was forgotten has been remembered. We must speak."

The rolling and thundering and quiet and whispering and feminine and masculine and animalistic voice had sounded straight into Taren's mind, causing them to almost lose their footing. They never got used to speaking with Mora, their incomprehensible presence always threatened to shatter the minds of everyone around them, and their voice was no different, especially when deep in thought. It always felt like each time they talked, Mora was looking straight into your being, taking note of every single one of your secrets and recording them for future use... and Taren wasn't sure if this feeling was false.

"So, your big bad forbidden memory that threatens the very threads of fate is the fact you undid one of your siblings? Why do I feel like this isn't the first time this happened? Oh yes, because it isn't. I've got to give it to you Princes, at least you did it in two different ways, once cursing the sibling you didn't like with insanity and completely reversing his sphere of influence, and the other making everyone including yourself forget about their existence. I've got to ask you, who was it there when you were deciding her fate?" - Taren's voice sounds as sweet poison, dripping slowly like honey as they recall the story of Jyggalag and all their encounters with Sheogorath. They found it quite ironic that both the Princes betrayed by their brethren had some kind of connection to crystals, even though for completely different reasons.

Mora was silent for a second that felt like eternity, and Taren had no idea whether they were stunned by the question, contemplating the answer or something else entirely. Reading the emotions of a giant blob of tentacles, eyeballs and ichor wasn't among their skillset, after all, but they were still satisfied by that pause.

"That which was forgotten is now remembered, and the damage is done by just this crack in the glass, yet you inquire of a different forgotten one and the terms of that meeting? That knowledge is irrelevant to you and was locked away by us from us, so we cannot give you that answer. What you have to know is Fate-Changer's ability to unravel strands of fate. Her very existence endangers everything."

This time Mora's voice had a much more forceful presence, and Taren cringed a little. However, although they couldn't read Mora as well as they could someone who actually had a face, this reaction of them still gave Taren the answer they were looking for.

"Oh, I was just wondering if you had Sheogorath unwittingly vote to have another Prince share a fate similar to his, or if it was Jyggalag who voted to have another Prince forgotten while wondering how long it would take for his siblings to stab him in the back next. Well, since it's irrelevant, I won't bother you with these questions any longer. I'll find your forbidden knowledge and deal with it, don't you worry - and if Torvesard somehow releases Ithelia, I'll hunt her down too. I've already faced that many Daedric Princes, what's one more, huh?"

Taren didn't see any perceivable reactions front Mora, however they still preferred to think that they got at least slightly under Mora's skin, especially with them probably being able to sense that Taren was potentially planning to intentionally let Torvesard release Ithelia - just for the fun of it. After all, how could they come this far and not have some fun with another Daedric Prince?

And as of forbidden knowledge... they didn't lie about that, either. Yes, it referred to the third glyphic, but not just that - it referred to some books they found in the very depths of Apocrypha, ones that Taren was certain didn't exist in bibliography of those authors. Yet here they were, in their pack, real as anything could be. Books on the nature of Demiprinces, on creations of Demiplanes and spheres of influence, on ascension. They didn't have time to read through them yet, but Taren was hoping to find what they were looking for in these books. And if not... well, it's at least a starting point.

@tes-summer-fest going to try and participate this year around. Maybe even do two prompts on select days

[darklordazalin]

Azalin Reviews: Darklord Tsien Chiang

Domain: I’Cath Domain Formation: 732 BC Power Level:💀💀💀💀⚫ Sources: Domains of Dread (2e), Islands of Terror (2e)

Previously, I wrote about Malus, the boy who hated all of nature because his druid father ignored him. This extreme rebellion continues with Tsien Chiang, a woman ignored by her father and decided she hated all those of the male persuasion just to spite him.

Tsien was the princess of I’Cath and though she was intelligent and beautiful, her father saw no worth in her. Naturally, this resulted in an overlooked child who studied many subjects forbidden to her – war, necromancy, and toxicology. I suppose this was before her obsession with the number four as I am sure she would have chosen a forth course of study.

In Tsien’s land of Kara-tur the character for the number four is the same as it is for death. Four winds bring storms, heat, ice, and dust. Four curses are written upon the scrolls of the gods: pestilence, despair, malice, and ill fortune. Superstitious beliefs entail that one who can unravel the secret of the number four may also learn of the secrets of life and death. Did Tsien ever find out this secret? Well, she certainly tried.

Tsien crafted a tincture made of four deadly poisons that she administered to her father who died in extreme agony. Upon his death, she enchanted her mother and 3 brothers turning them into helpless idiots and Tsien was named the ruler of I’Cath.

Tsien ruled her land with an iron fist. She could have used a bit of a velvet glove approach as well, but I can appreciate the tight grip she had on her people.

Of course, despite how tyrannical and evil one becomes, one always obtains a fair amount of suitors whether they want them or not. Tsien would wait until she obtained four suitors then bade them to fight to the death, promising to wed the survivor. She wed four times through this ceremony of hers, ending the life of her husband and obtaining another when she saw fit. Through these marriages, she bore four daughters.

Three of these daughters inherited their mother’s evil and they were named Scream, Hate, and Spite. The fourth, however, was a pure spirit with a voice loved by the gods and was named Nightingale. I wonder if her mother had named her Malice if she would have turned out differently?

Tsien became one of the most feared and hated rulers in Kara-tur, but there was little to be done about her for, unlike Drakov, she was a military genius and a powerful sorceress. Any attempts at defeating her, she easily repelled. Unable to dethrone her, the surrounding lands offered her gifts in attempt to gain her favor. She was given fruit trees, which she killed all but four and transformed them into malicious, cursed creatures.

Tsien also demanded a tribute of four sacred bells. She transformed these bells, placing her daughter’s spirits within as well of a piece of herself in order to hold their souls’ captive. A rather unique method to make a phylactery though as obvious as the giant, golden dragon skull my tormentors ‘gifted’ me with. Whenever the bells toll, they bring about great evil, except for Nightingale’s bell, of course. Trapped within these bells, Tsien has complete control over her daughters bodies and none of them, daughters nor mother, ever age.

As the daughters received suitors, Tsien put them to the same ritual combat she had placed her own suitors and over time she created a palace made out these suitor’s bones. The carpets of her palace were made of their hair and the walls painted with their blood. The shear amount of suitors it must have taken to create such a place leads me to belief that perhaps all the men of her land were the complete dullards Tsien saw them as, given more kept on attempting to win the hearts' of her daughters.

The three evil sisters delighted in their mother’s cruelty. Nightingale, however, took pity upon those her mother tormented and pleaded with her to stop, but only received her mother’s cruel hand. Each time she was beaten, the gods sent a warning the Tsien, which she ignored.

However, it wasn’t until she had beaten her daughter four times for questioning her four times that the Mists came for her and brought her into the mist surrounded I’Cath.

I’Cath is only inhabited by Tsien and her four daughters, four evil trees, and four cursed bells. She dwells in her Palace of Bones with her three evil daughters and trapped Nightingale’s body within the summit of a high tower with stairs made from the ‘broken promises of men’ and thereby endless.

Though Tsien does not realize where she is and she rules over a land of no one, she is quite formidable. Not only is she a powerful sorceress, but our tormentors have gifted her with the ability to take on the form of a treant. The only way to destroy her is to destroy the bells that contain her and her daughter’s spirits.

[florelia12]

Naturally, I was thinking about florelia and their backstories (what else am I supposed to do with my life?)

I was also reading dramione fanfics (again) and it got me thinking abt 6th year Draco being asked to assassinate Dumbledore…

Did I find a way to turn that into a Helia backstory? Yes. Yes i did.

So, I started thinking about first-year, fifteen year old baby Helia being sent to kill Saladin. Going undercover as a Specialist in Red Fountain.

And it’s got a bit of Necromancer!Helia in it. So CW for child abuse, DV and death.

I’ve had this headcanon that Saladin wasn’t always a cheerful/understanding old man. He used to be rather fierce and unforgiving, emotionally detached and tied to duty. I think it’s also canon that he left his ex-girlfriend because she went into the dark arts.

Something consistent in all my hcs about Helia is his parents straight up being on the dark side and working with Valtor (maybe inspired by that one scene with Valtor and Helia). So, Saladin’s son kind of turns on him and the light side and joins Valtor.

This would result in Saladin disowning his son in an effort to remind the rest of the Company of Light where his loyalties lie. Saladin has shown that his reputation matters highly to him so i think this would be fairly in character.

Even go as far as to killing his own son during a battle.

At this point does Saladin know he has a grandchildren? Nope.

So out of fear of Saladin and a new hatred for Valtor for letting her husband die, Helia’s mother takes her kids and goes into hiding. She turns to her family who are Necromancers, begging them to bring back her husband. She’s too weak to do it herself.

Her family was once on the dark side but turned neutral after realising that the Company of Light might actually stand a chance at defeating Valtor.

So they refuse at first but they know that after the battle is over, the light side will shun them out or even prosecute them so having power over Saladin’s grandkids might come in useful one day.

They bring Helia’s father back to life but he’s not the same since bringing back the dead will always have consequences. He’s more evil than before and swears to take revenge on his father. Kind of loses his mind a little from spending time on the other side. Since it took some time, his body also kind of stays in a half decayed state. for the creepy effects..

After watching Vox Machina I can’t help but think of Helia with a twin sister. However, in the case of twins in my hcs is that one of them (the healthier one in the womb) will end up absorbing magic from the other one. So only one twin can use magic while the other can’t, basically making them a human.

Helia is the one with the magic potential, twice as powerful since he absorbed his sister’s magic as well. Also he ends up inheriting the necromancy magic.

Helia is raised and trained by his father to kill Saladin while maintaining the cover that his father is dead.

They both grow up with his mother’s family but they don’t know about Helia’s father’s plans.

Helia of course doesn’t want to kill anyone, but since his father is crazy atp he uses his sister and mother to threaten Helia. Goes as far as to torture his mother to keep Helia in line. But, mostly ignores his sister because she’s useless to him.

He also leeches off of Helia’s powers to keep himself alive that makes Helia rather weak and sick at times, resulting in him having to visit Linphea to get help from the healers. Kind of makes sense for necromancers to work with Healers so they’ve got big connections, aka the royal palace where he meets Krystal. (Trying to tie it all in is tiring but fun)

Helia has a close relationship with his sister. She knows he does his best to protect her but she’s also treated badly for not having any powers. There isn’t any animosity between them but she does envy him. A lot. She won’t be able to fulfil the ‘task’ since she doesn’t have powers and can’t be a Specialist either which she finds extremely unfair.

She kind of has to become a caretaker for their mother who refuses to leave their father because she knows the man he once was but her health gets worse from the torture. Especially since their guardians, their mother’s family, doesn’t know what their father does to them.

So once he turns fifteen, he ends up in Red Fountain, just like any other Specialist. Saladin of course takes note of the resemblance and his magic signature but once he looks into Helia’s background he doesn’t find anything suspicious.

Maybe his records show that he was an orphan. Taken in as a ward. Still ironing out that part.

Helia is of course canonically one of the best students. Catching Codatorta’s and Saladin’s attention. This gets him closer to the professor and they end up sending him on more espionage missions that makes him a better spy. He then uses his advanced spying skills to plot out the best way to unalive saladin.

At some point, Helia starts to remind Saladin of his son before he turned dark. This kind of brings out the guilt he always felt for killing his son without giving him a chance to redeem himself.

The normally strict, fierce and commanding headmaster starts going soft on Helia.

This of course confuses Helia because isn’t this the man ruthless enough to kill his own son? How is he supposed to kill him now?

Codatorta on the other hand is extremely suspicious of Helia and he is the one who figures out who he truly is. But, when he tells Saladin, Saladin decides to not let Helia know that he knows.

When the time is right, Helia is supposed to carry out his plan. But when he does, Saladin is just there waiting for him. He offers to take Helia in, even pardon his mother and do his best to protect him they way he couldn’t protect his son.

Helia is torn and doesn’t know what to do. He wants to keep his family safe and he is terrified of what his father will do. He breaks down and tells all of this to Saladin.

Codatorta thinks it’s all an act but Saladin chooses to believe him. To end the cycle.

Helia realising he actually wants to stay at Red Fountain and that he can be something other than a murderer. That he can actually protect people, be a hero and all that.

Both Helia and Saladin take a leap of faith. Helia accepts.

Helia’s mother is first rescued and sent to Lightrock where she can safely serve her time since she too has started to deteriorate from the torture.

His father is arrested and sent to the Omega Dimension since they can’t actually kill him again.

His sister is missing at first but she finds Helia and is angry at him for betraying their family. She’s mad at him because they took their mother away and no matter how much Helia tries to reason with her, she refuses to listen. She says she would have gone through with the assassination but he couldn’t.

Then she abandons him and disappears.

The news breaks out that Helia’s Saladin’s grandson causing uproar and rumours that he purposely hid Helia’s identity to prevent nepotism accusations.

Having learned his lesson and in an effort to be a better grandfather, he publicly claims Helia as his grandson.

This backfires on Helia who was once respected by his fellow specialists but now they hate him for lying. It caused a lot of issues for Saladin as well.

Helia who is exhausted from everything that has happened and doesn’t know what to do with his newfound freedom, decides to leave and explore the world.

Saladin respects his decision but Codatorta wants him to stay because he’s grown fond of Helia.

Of course, Helia leaves for art school in the end, renounces his magic because he is so done with that shit and then the rest is history.

Phew…

Now ive always wanted to write a fanfic about Helia’s first time at Red Fountain but it always turns into this complicated mess of angst that I decided to just ramble.

If there was ever a sequel it would be about Helia’s sister coming back after years and she’s evil now (maybe even breaks their mother out of prison) but Helia tries to save her and all that. Or his father got out of omega dimension when Valtor broke out. So much familial angst.

Anyways that’s all for tonight. Thanks for tuning in.

[blingblandfanfic]

Lup and Barry clone Taako

i've been dabbling in taz fic lately, and i started this and realised i only wanted to write this scene, and thus didn't want to flesh it out further LMAO

one scene isn't enough to post on ao3, but it is enough to post on tumblr ;)

It starts with Lup’s hovering.

Her metaphorical hovering, that is, not her literal hovering. It’s been a month, maybe a bit more since they’ve defeated the Hunger, and on account of being a lich with no legs, she’d have to drift from place to place for all that time.

Taako doesn’t know why she and Barry haven’t made her a new body, but whatever.

To be honest, it takes a while for Taako to even notice her metaphorical hovering, let alone be bothered by it. There’s something about being separated for over a decade that’s made it so that neither of them can be apart for too long without getting panicky about it. But as Taako soaks up sister time, his Lup quota fills up a little bit faster every day until it’s almost back to pre disappearance levels. 

He’d expected it to be the same for Lup, but she’s still clingy. Still hovering. Metaphorically. It’s obvious that there's something she wants to tell him, and he’s never known her to be shy about anything, so he’s waiting for her to spit it out herself. 

One night, when she’s decided to ‘sleep’ in Taako’s bed instead of Barry's, she finally plucks up the courage to ask whatever she wants to ask him.

“Taako. How much do you love me?”

“What do you want?” his eyes are closed, but if they weren’t, they’d be squinting suspiciously. 

“Seriously, babe, just answer the question.”

“You’re my heart, duh,” if this is what she’s been worried about the whole time, then Taako’s gonna be pissed. 

“How would you like to make that literal?”

He finally pulls open an eye to see his sister, floating ominously above him, “and what the fuck do you mean by that?”

If Lup had a face, she would use it to give him a bashful smile. 

“Well… we need like, a lot of DNA samples in order to create a clone, and it was easy for Barry because he always had access to his body but–”

“But your body is dust,” Taako closes his eyes. 

“Hey, we’re already technically clones of each other! We just need to do it manually this time!”

“It’s still fucking freaky, though!” he sits up on his elbows, “I don’t wanna go about my day knowing there’s a version of me growing in a test tube!”

“Then don’t think of the clone as you, dummy, it’ll be my body, I just… won’t be in it, for a while.”

“Oh my god,” he slumps back onto the mattress, “when the fuck did this become our life?”

“I think we were pretty much locked in the moment we got the IPRE acceptance letters,” she floats down to lie on Taako’s body, her not-face propped up by her hands. “Seriously, though, if you really don’t wanna do this, then it’s fine. We’ll figure something else out.”

“Oh yeah, like what? Possess some poor schmuck and spend the rest of your days running from Kravitz? No way, this is the easier option.”

“I have a feeling you’re not fully 100 percent on board with this.”

“Yeah, of course I'm not! Who wants to be cloned? But I’m doing it anyway because you’re my sister, and I want to fucking hug you.”

“God, same,” Lup sighs, “and I want to bang my husband,” she ignores Taako’s retching, “it’s just that we have to be really careful about this, now that me and Barry are working for the Raven Queen and all, we have to make sure this is super duper ethical. Cloning is super light necromancy, and she’s barely willing to let us do it.”

“Fine,” Taako raises his hand, “you have my full unequivocal consent to clone my body and bang your husband with it. I just don’t want to see the fucking thing until you’re in it. Do you need that in writing or what?”

“Actually, yeah. Like I said, the Raven Queen is being super strict about it. Kravitz says we’re lucky she’s letting us do this at all. I guess being the saviors of the universe helped us out there.”

“She also has a big soft spot for Kravitz. She’s like his Mom.”

“Aww, really?”

“He can deny it all he wants, but I know the truth. He blushes like a motherfucker when I bring it up.”

“Ha!” She barks out a laugh and sits up, “I'm definitely gonna bring that up the next time I see him,” she floats off him and makes for the wall– doors are obsolete to a lich– but she pauses, turning back to face him. He can almost imagine her face in the empty darkness that is her hood, a reflection of his own, but far more open and gentle than he’s ever allowed himself to be. “Seriously–”

“Seriously,” he raises his hand, “I'm cool with it. Now can I go the fuck back to sleep?”

“Yeah,” she says, soft, with a hint of a smile, “you can.”

[pyronianmage]

My take on a Verandis backstory

Through the forest, she approached him. In her bag, unholy noises shrieked out, and the sound of limbs fighting to tear through the fabric reached far through the trees. In her hand was a knife of cool obsidian. It let off a chill that froze the mist, causing ice crystals to form on her hands. Despite this, her blood did not freeze. The enchantment knew not to hurt her. 

Verandis knelt on the soggy moss, waiting. He saw an ant scurry up his pants and brushed it off. No doubt worse bugs were already climbing his back. He would not flinch. He would not look. More disturbing things than insects roamed these woods. As if on cue with his thoughts, he heard a thud. 

Vallisare tossed the bag towards her son, and knelt down beside him. It was time. “Verandis, my mother taught me a lesson long ago. Her father taught her the same. Now, I have the chance to teach you. I may have fled my home, but I still hold those traditions with me. And now you will, too.” With these words, she reached into the bag. The creature inside thrashed and screamed, but she did not waver. It was not in charge here, she was. 

Verandis braced himself for what was inside. Of course, he knew of her background. He knew of the Corelanya clan’s tendencies towards necromancy and Daedra worship, and of her power. He knew she did things, created things. All at the behest of his father, of course. So it came as a great surprise when she pulled out a fluffy, and very alive, rabbit. 

And then she raised the knife. 

Verandis watched, frozen, as the creature’s neck was sliced open. The screams were haunting, but even more haunting was the silence as the creature’s life seeped out. 

There was no time to waste. There is a sweet spot, where the will can still be bent but it will not fight back. Using magic, she commanded the creature’s blood upwards, towards her son. “Taste it.” 

He lurched back. An unreadable expression graced her face. Taking a deep breath, he knew what he had to do. There was no ignoring her command. Out of both fear and respect, and a hint of his love and trust for her, he leaned forward, and took a sip out of the air. It tasted of iron, salt, and energy. Others may not have tasted it, but the life energy was strongly concentrated in the rabbits blood. He felt something… a connection to the poor creature. Like by tasting it’s blood he had taken over it’s soul.

“Do you feel it? It’s life after death is yours now. You know the taste of it’s being, and it’s soul. Now, as it leaves its earthly tether, take over. Command the last remnants of what it once was to be yours. Command it to Rise!”

Verandis felt a surge of power like never before. He saw through the rabbits eyes, felt it’s body shake, and the rush of magic that surged through them both. It was exhilarating, exquisite, it made him feel more alive than he ever was. And when the feeling dissipated, a pair of tiny, glazed over eyes stared blankly at him. He wanted more. 

——————————————————————————————————

The altar, soaked with blood and nightshade, glistened with energy. Decades had passed since his young self had the first taste of that cursed magic. He wanted more. He wanted the strength of blood, power over life and death like never seen before. He wanted to retreat somewhere no one could touch him, not the nobility of the Hegemony, not the pressures of responsibility. He wanted the power to do as he pleased. And most of all, he wanted the freedom to run away with the one he loved the most. 

Verandis saw power, and freedom, and love, and magic.

The Daedra saw an opportunity.

[jaeltree]

“I don’t, but you would. And at this point in time we can’t rule anything out when we barely have any answers.” Aladdin could be as angry as he wants, but sooner or later he’s going to have to realise that it’s not exactly helping him. “Like I said, I won’t have any knowledge to share until you die more often.” And that was the truth of the matter.

“Oh, Aladdin… I’d like to see you try.” It’d almost be worth to stick around as a ghost, haunting him, and watching him in his moral agony, the issue of the time loop not withstanding. In fact, Mozenrath wondered if Aladdin and his idiotic djinni has ever dealt with the undead besides his mamluks. He doubted it, but the street rat always was full of surprises.

Mozenrath absentmindedly brought his left hand to his right shoulder, and tentatively pressed into the rest of the damaged muscles it had left. He winced, unsure if the stabbing pain his nerves felt was a good thing when the ultimate result remained the same. He dropped his arm to his side the moment he realised Aladdin was watching him, and narrowed his eyes at his enemy. When he first met him and tried recruiting him as a mercenary, the curse only gotten rid of his forearm just below his elbow. Now, though… now he needed to resort bandaging up his shoulder so he won’t bleed through his finery.

Though he didn’t hold the glare for long, and glanced around the place. “In any case, as much as it pains me to say this… we’re each other’s best chance at getting out of this. Turning on each other will achieve nothing.”

He blinked. Did he just—? “Of course it’s not going to dispel it!” Mozenrath looked at Aladdin incredulously, wondering what kind of idiot he took him for. “It’ll distract her long enough for me to see if she’s behind this or not. But from what I’ve seen, you and your friends seem to handle her quite well.” Besides, Mozenrath already had his attention stretched thin as it was.

“But isn’t that what you agreed to? I happen to recall you saying not a moment ago, ‘if you can actually help us out of this, then we can experiment! But Jasmine had nothing to do with all this!’” Mozenrath mimicked Aladdin’s outraged voice to perfection back to him. Reminding him of the illusionary magics he had control over. That if he wasn’t willing to co-operate, that Mozenrath was willing to impersonate him to get things done, himself. “Really, Aladdin,” he sighed, “I suggest you start pulling your weight if you want out, too.”

Mozenrath’s lip curled up as he glared. Yes, he was alone but he wasn’t lonely. He only needed Xerxes. So why did it feel like he’s just been punched in the stomach? Mozenrath’s expression changed to a malicious, tight-lipped smile at Aladdin’s next question, even as his gut wrenched in on itself. “Oh?” He tilted his head to the side, a finger curled on his chin in thought, ignoring the internal discomfort for the point he was about to make. “I take it that you’ll be able to extract the data from my deaths because you’re such an accomplished necromancer?” He shifted, turned away from him and paced a few steps to the side, shrugging exaggeratedly as he continued. “And, of course, because you’re such an accomplished necromancer, you’d able to apply the scientific method, and find the culprit via studying their magic.” He let his arms drop, and glanced back at Aladdin. “Or do you expect me to do all of that when the pain would be too much for me to concentrate? Or when I’m not even alive to be conscious of such things?” Mozenrath paused, as if waiting for an answer— only to cut Aladdin off when he’d open his mouth. “There is a very slim timeframe on such a thing, street rat! The data will disappear the moment time resets! So, unless you’ve broken a world record at becoming an expert at necromancy in less than a year— no. I don’t think I will drink it.”

The question was absolutely ridiculous! It was like asking a surgeon to perform surgery on themself. Surely even Aladdin would understand the audacity of such a request in that regard. Surely…

There was no doubt in his mind that what caused him to breakdown was a combination of not sleeping, progressively getting worse and the Heart’s influence. “Let’s get one thing straight, street rat… whatever you think you achieved with that… me giving you the oracle… all the events that led up to you finding your father and expanding your family… all of that won’t matter in the end.” Mozenrath will never give up his quest for more power and world conquest.

“Perfect!” Mozenrath clapped his hands together and smiled. “Now, I believe your anniversary party is about to begin,” in the distance he heard Razzel (or whatever his name was) muttering to himself about searching for a lowlife street rat being criminal royalty, then turning into official royalty. Thanks to a glyph Mozenrath placed around the corner to the building they were next to. No doubt Aladdin could, too. Mozenrath pushed him out into the open. “Don’t forget to smile and mingle with the guests!” Since he was oh, so popular with exclusive parties… “Oh, and try not to die until at least three-thirty.”

“Y-you’re here…!?” Surprise flashed across Mozenrath’s face for just a moment, before it was overcome with a sigh of relief. He placed his left hand over his heart, as he continued, backing away from potentially being punched. Or tackled, then punched. Repeatedly. “I was worried about you! You were rather sick last night, but I see you’ve made a full recovery.”

(Heyo! I was thinking what if Moze ‘accidentally’ killed Al in a time loop, and Al confronts him about it (basically the only time he manages to kill him is when it doesn’t count 😋))

Upon awakening once more, Aladdin enacted his two-step plan. The first step was asking Abu for help finding some figs hard enough to cause injury when thrown at someone's face. The second step was sneaking off to find Mozenrath and throwing a fig at his face.

"Are you happy now?!?" Al advanced forward with clenched fists, eyes set on Mozenrath's face but aiming to put a fist at his stomach. "Yeah, you'd know I'd be sick! I'm sick of everything in you!"  He went to swing at the chest again, regardless of the sorcerer's distance to him. Even if Moze dodged out of reach, Aladdin had plenty of figs lining the royal garment's pockets.

"You said that you didn't plan to spend your life here with me! Well, I can certainly change that!" He went for another attack, aiming at the lord's jaw. "As long as I'm the only one trying to get us out of here, I'd be more than happy to have you locked up here to rot away!"

If only that would get them any closer to actually leaving this time.

He didn't want to wait, he wanted to scratch up Mozenrath's neck and face enough to leave scarring, but any escalation right now would lead to more resets and more excuses for Mozenrath to torture him with whatever that was again. His head no longer felt that it would split open, but he wouldn't mind the pain again if he could deliver the same to Mozenrath's skull with his own head.

Anyway, whatever was keeping him and Mozenrath in the same recurring time period could have a motive for doing so. If the motive was positive by any stretch then scarring up Mozenrath wouldn't net him any points in generosity there.

He'd just have to wait for a good reason to make it painful.

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

Ethics of Creating/Adopting/Influencing Sentient Life, as Ignored by the Valar

It's been a steady headcanon of mine that most Valar have their own form of sentient life that they had a metaphysical hand in shaping. Is this because I feel like everyone gets jilted bc of the big three? Yes. Is this how I explain all of the weird one-off things in the Hobbit? Also yes. No particular order here, just vibes.

Manwe: Giant Eagles, obvious, he asked his Parent's permission first.

Aule: Dwarves, also obvious, did not ask permission from his Parent but they ended up splitting custody so a pretty good deal all around. (Also maybe made sure that the possibility for AI was in the Song. Is very excitedly awaiting his robot children.)

Yavanna: Ents, again obvious, asked her Parent's permission, got it, dunked on her husband. Ents are strange because they aren't so much plant-like sentients as decidedly sentient plants. Most everyone but her (and Vana) are kinda weirded out by this.

Vana: Hobbits. With some input from Yavanna and Nessa. I know the prevailing hc in the Hobbit fandom is that it was Yavanna for those sweet Aule/Yavanna Dwarves/Hobbits parallels, but I feel like Vana's Domains fit them better. She didn't (technically) Create them, she was just wanting to make her own People without getting in trouble, and Yavanna offered sisterly advice in the form of "Evolution was already Sung, so if you just guide that evolution a little and happen to get a new People out of it... well, whoopsies, who'd've guessed ;)". Nessa, of course, heard about this and insisted on helping her girlfriend out. No one knows how Hobbits came from Humans, because it makes very little logical sense. This is why. Also she coopted mushrooms from Melkor and those things are if not sentient at least getting there.

Orome: The Beornings. Vana was like "LOOK WHAT I'M DOING :D!" re. evolution (and Magic/Song shhhh) and Orome went "SICK! I WANNA DO THAT!!" but didn't want to put quite as much effort in (he's busy) so he took a group of humans and was like "Ok you can have awesome disney princess bear powers for the low low cost of not technically being human anymore" and they all went "well, best not to reject gifts from gods, also that sounds cool, so sure I guess?" Some adaption/evolution was also involved, which Nessa helped with.

Nessa: See Vana & Orome above. She's the reason Hobbits have the crazy high stealth bonus, and the reason for the whole bear-dancing thing the Beornings do. Also I'm pretty sure she came up with an idea for talking animals really early on, carefully and subtly implemented by her, Orome, and Yavanna.

Tulkas: Giants. Orome and Vana and Nessa were all like "DUDE LOOK WHAT WE'RE DOING ISN'T IT COOL!" and Tulkas was like "YEAH THAT'S SICK BABES! GREAT JOB!" and they were like "don't you want to try? OwO? give us more niblings to dote on?" and he figured "hey, might as well, that sounds dope". He got Aule's help (bc experience w/ sentientifying rocks) and managed to accidentally find a bunch of new loop holes in the "Thou Shalt Not Casually Create Sentience What Are You Guys Frankenstein Or Something" doctrine. Manwe was like "...why" and Tulkas was like "Look, there's not even triple digits of them, their sentience is debatable at best, and it makes Arda cooler. Surely you want Arda to be cool? Also they throw rocks around!" And Manwe had bigger problems to deal with at this point and gave up. This is why giants are fighty.

Namo: Did NOT create sentience are you kidding? It's bad enough that SOME moron Sung the possibility for Necromancy into Arda (interesting as it is he desperately wants to slap the Maia who came up with that idea. it's So Much Work, and ever since Humans first woke up he has been So Busy. this is what he gets for wanting to micromanage the Death system), he's not creating MORE work for himself. He has technically adopted sentient life in the form of Spirits. He staunchly ignores anyone who tries to point this out.

Nienna: Did not create sentience but has adopted the Orcs. The ones that were corrupted elves can heal with a lot (a LOT) of time and therapy in Mandos, but orcs do end up as a separate People. A People who is Nienna's now. They're her babies. (Yes, this is a Threat.)

Irmo: As creator of dreams he occupies a very weird place re. creating sentience, since he's technically actively influencing it at all times regardless. Has not made a People but did very quietly figure out how to make not-quite-Maiar. He didn't make many, but there are a few Wishing Spirits in unexpected places.

Vaire: Similar to her husband, she's too busy to create sentience, and doesn't want that responsibility anyway. Perfectly content with being a mentor-friend to her Weavers, no desire to be a mom.

Este: Has not created sentience but did help Aule work on robot bodies once she learned about his little project. Is not a mechanical engineer, but can pass pretty well as a bio-engineer. Plus she needs to learn how to heal all the Peoples, not just organic ones. (They keep the project quiet.)

Ulmo: He was to busy trying to help the Original And Intended Children to make anything of his own. Did several of his Maiar figure out Fully Incarnate Bodies? Yes. Did they also figure out how to have kids? SOMEHOW, yes. Did these kids become their own People? Yes. Is this Ulmo's problem now? Yes. Anyway that's how mermaids happened.

Varda: She is competent and respectable. Are her constellations sentient? That's between them, her, and her Maiar. She's worked out the logistics on her own, thank you very much. No need for worrying about afterlives or whatnots, she's got it covered. (She just wanted some kids, ok? And it's so much easier if she isn't the only one watching over the skies of Arda.)

[casperghosty]

Puppet History S5E1- Analysis and theories

Everything about The Professor is so very confusing. We know he got eaten and possibly turned into a dinosaur (we see him hatch from an egg in the trailer) but now he is alive and well....

Or is he ??!

The first strange thing about him that I've realized is his color: on the left it's him from the s1e1 on the right it's him in the new episode.

Maybe it's just diffrent lightning, but his furr looks pale and over all weird.

the more prominent things that show he is not the real professor, or that something strange is happening to him is his glitching and demonc voices

I also just realized, DID HE JUST GIGGLE??! at first I thought it was Sara giggling

"The algorithm is better than ever" I've seen theories before this episode that maybe the algorithm is sentient and is making Ryan lose every time. I also saw theories regarding this epsidoe that maybe the physical algorithm took over the professor? But why would it let Ryan win this time....? I will get back to that one to

And of course the misterious Box, that adds to every theory while makes them even more confusing, but before I get to the theories I qanted to point out some of his behaivers that I found unusual:

He didn't flirt with Sara?? The two epsisodes she's been in so far he called her "my moon and stars" or called her the most beautiful guest he had.

In addition, the B- ball bit...?? they never did anything for B boys only for C dogs... which might not be much but if I'm already suspicious of him not being the real professor, I'm gonna criticise all his moves.

At first I didn't realize this but I saw people point it out, his weird obsession with meat, we could say it's because the episode was meat centric... but this moment in particular was creepy

There is something on the PH set, a ghost? maybe the energy if something is disturbing the environment??

Ryan asks a fair question, I mean the last thing he knows is that the professor got eaten (Ryan doesn't know the professor potential got reborn from a dino egg)

R:"You know a lot about ghosts. Are you a ghost?"

P: "what kind of question is that? come one"

P:" I mean I went through some stuff"

The proff ignores the question and doesn't answers, but we can conclude he went through stuff (maybe through a dino??)

Something shocking happens... RYAN WON?! But this win feels weird, Ryan didn't get a cup, the professor said he is out of it which is unusual because the Devil said to Ryan the professor buys them in batches.... instead he got... a Puppet Cream (I do not wanna know what part of the professor this is if jelly beans is his poop....) It was pointed out to me, that he is very insistent that Ryan puts on the lotion

p:"Make sure you use that a lot.You gotta moisturizer that skin of yours"

and the design on the lotion brings up questions

this design of the professor looks weird, his smile is weirdly mischievous, unlike any cartoonis version of him on any merch, and the weirdest THE EYES, WHY IS HIS EYES BLUE WITH WHITE PUPILS?! THE PROFESSOR HAS BROWN EYES?!

Now lets look at the end scene with final-girl Ryan, he is trying to bid on the Genies's lap (we know it's the same because in the item description it says it was sold by the devil and a three-headed demon, and it's surounded by jelly beans) this raises so many questions

Why would they sell the lamp? why does Ryan need it? We can see from his open tabs he was looking at "puppet necromancy" was he trying to bring the professor back?

Another thing that confused me is Ryan using Burgess Montclief as his name when buying the lamp. It's the name he came up with in the epsidoe, so are the events that happen in the office after the ep, play out after his lesson with the professor? why does he want the lamp still if the professor is more or less "back" and if it's after the history class, what does that glowy eyed professor doing there?! If it happens before his class is the professor who's teachen Ryan that creepy one with the glowing eyes? why was he in the Watcher hq?Ryan pointed out watcher and the puppet theater are far away!

To add to my confusion, the article Ryan is reading says they found Prof's glasses and hat, but when he gell to the dino's mout only his satchel fell he was eaten with glasses and hat, but in the episode he had all three with him?!

Who is Connie.M why do they want the Genie lamp? (again? for how long has Ryan been chasing the lamp??)

Now to my theories

The Professor is a ghost: He doesn't want Ryan to touch him, maybe because he isn't physical? someone pointed out that ghosts mess up election items and gain energy from them so maybe he uses that box for energy to manifest himself in a way he looks more physical (FBO kinda thing)

He is a hologram, the same way I assume the box powers a ghost professor what if he is a hologram Professor, this can explain the weird glitching we see ,and amongst the articles Ryan is looking at there is one very suspicious about holograms... foreshadowing???

He might be part dinosaur or some kind of zombie; this would explain his hunger for meat and why he wants Ryan to be soft and moisturized, maybe he is planning on reveng?? but this doesn't explain what is going on with the box?!

He is possessed by a demon or a genie, which would explain his demonic voice, but not the box, UNLESS the box isn't there to power HIM but the box sucks out his energy to power someone else that's why at some point he powered down or feel asleep!

In conclusion I'M SO VERY CONFUSED I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS AND ONE THEORY DOESN'T EXPLAIN IT, maybe he is a part dinosaur ghost hungry for flesh and needs energy from the electric box?!

I know that this creepy thing

IS NOT MY PROFESSOR!!

Can't qait for next week and and having to analyse even more things !!

[poisonouswritings]

*cutely crashing into your house* hey girl~

Listen I've just finished reading "heir to love and lies" and "two against the world" and I'm obsessed with El Fantasma and Nicky

Can I have a request of M3 with mc who's a boss of a Mexican cartel? They are an expert on weapons, Martial arts and street fights but they have a soft side to their loved ones (like Nicky)

Also they take pride in being the youngest cartel boss that ever made the government and other bosses kneel before them (for the sake of the request let's say that mc is about 28 and they've been in the business since they were a teenager) but also not so proud because the only reason they went through that business is to feed their family and provide good life and better education to their younger siblings and they did pretty nasty things in the past to reach that point

Ok thank you bye~~ *cutely jumping out of your window*

*sighs and calls up my woodland critter friends to help me patch up the damages* My poor metaphorical inbox-house

GN!Reader, not explicitly a Mexican cartel thing it's more just a gang/mafia thing, I didn't read either of those stories so bare with me here, nor did I finish watching The Godfather but I saw enough to get the idea

Felix Escellun

Okay,, so I feel like Felix isn't all that opposed to your background honestly. Like, he does necromancy. He is morally questionable and flexible.

Finds your knowledge of fighting, weapons, etc. to be pretty cool! I don't think he'd have as much of an interest in that sort of thing as, say, Anisa, but he'd definitely appreciate how clever you'd have to be to maintain all that.

I think your knowledge of how a criminal cartel works would actually prove to be useful with maneuvering the situation with Escell and all that. Since Felix has never really been interested in the political side of things, your knowledge of power-structure dynamics would actually be pretty useful.

Similarly! I think your relationship with Escell would improve. The two of you can likely relate on several points. He still might not like you per-say, but there's definitely mutual respect. I think he trusts you a little more with Felix too, once he knows what you're capable of.

Florian finds out too of course. I think he feels bad that someone so young had to go through everything you did for the sake of the people you love. Probably good at offering advice and comfort when your guilt bubbles up.

,,,Felix asks you to help him steal stuff he needs for his studies. Better not get caught.

Honestly he thinks you're cool. I think he also lavishes you a bit, all things considered.

Anisa Anka

,,,, okay so,,,,,,,, she's a uh,,,,, she's a knight. A Lieutenant at that. I Do Not Think that she would be particularly enthused about the stuff you've done. But once you explain your reasoning I think she'd be a lot more sympathetic.

Your knowledge of cartels is also useful to her! Obviously Anisa does have a better understanding of politics than Felix, but I also think she wears rose-tinted glasses. She tries to ignore problems within the Sunstone until she's literally looking cultists in the face. She's an optimist y'know? And you love that about her, you really do, but it means she can be a little naive.

She!! loves hearing about your experiences. Holds you during the sadder ones and praises you during the more impressive ones. I think she has a lot of respect for you, honestly.

M,,maybe don't tell Ayanna about it. At least not until she's calmed down with thinking you're gonna become the next LoS. Otherwise I think she's gonna try to use it against you.

Wish we could have gotten a liTTLE MORE INFORMATION AND ALL THAT BUT NOW THERE'S A FUCKING HIATUS

Anyways

I think she's especially interested in your weapons knowledge. She finds human ingenuity super interesting.

Sage Lesath

Alright so I don't think I have to explain how much Sage resonates with that. And I think he really appreciates the fact that you can clearly take care of yourself. It makes him feel a lot better about this whole partnership.

Haha I accidentally wrote 'partnerfish' up there. Yes I know no one but me finds that funny but shh

He uh,, he finds your fighting abilities to be really hot. Sorry not sorry. The first time you beat someone's ass to the ground like it's nothing and he is Completely At Your Mercy.

Simp!Sage Simp!Sage Simp!Sage !!!!! I just really love when traditionally masculine characters are complete lovey-dovey fools and simps for their partners asdgfkrefjsd

I think you guys both feel guilt about the things you had to do in the past. You help each other with that. Sage had to take care of Tulsi and Balsam and Lucan, and you had to take care of your family. It was - still is - ugly at times, but it was worth it too.

I think you're both proud of how far you've come. And you'll get even stronger together - hopefully with your morals a little more intact this time.