#what does ancient magic even smell like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

violet-eng · 9 months ago

Note

REMEMBER ME POOKIE? (THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FOLLOWING I APPRECIATE IT ♡♡♡♡

So Just think about it if zongli is your boyfriend right image he shows his dragon parts to u like tail and tongue scales horns👹👹👹

And dragon is a type of lizard so dose that mean he breeds whit his tongue and tail and he always wears gloves JUST THINK ABOUT WHAT GOODIES ARE UNDER THERE😚😚😚 GROWING FINGERS.

do u think he has 2 cocks?

You.Need.Jesus... And so do I...

About the 2 cocks thing... I asked an expert (my college friend) and she said yes...

Btw I took a little creative freedom bc I had this "jealous scenario" long ago and wanted to try again some interaction with hybrid Zhongli.

Also, in case you want something more casual then just tell me and I'll give it a try.

Order ready. Enjoy.

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Jealous Hybrid! ¡Zhongli! x fem!reader | NSFW 🔞

Summary: You traveled to Fontaine where you became close friends with Neuvillette. That's why when you return to Liyue and Zhongli SMELLS Neuvillette in your clothes, he goes feral and (basically what was previously asked).

Advertencias: smut 🔞. MDNI. Established relationship. Dirty talk. Does this count as fucking a monster? Zhongli hybrid sex. size kink. Incorrect use of the dragon's tail (not just once, but twice 🎶fancyyy🎶). Two cocks. Piv, anal. Fingering. Does tail sucking count as a bJob? Unprotected sex. Overstimulation. Dacryphilia. Basically, daddy Geo goes wild.

4.1 k words.

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In a few days, you will return to Liyue Bay, to your comfortable apartment in the center above the jewelry store, next to your beloved Zhongli, who has not stopped answering your letters since you left for your work trip to Fontaine. The immense city had completely amazed you, and dazzled by the avant-garde facades of its buildings, the days had felt more like a vacation than work.

Despite the ostentatious façade of the city, you miss home and the delicate architecture between the mountains that guard the city. You also miss the ocean, so different from the primordial sea, full of ancient legends and tales of war. Most of all, you miss your dear counselor at the funeral parlor. Zhongli had been very encouraging about the idea of your trip, especially knowing how much you were interested in working at Meropide Fortress.

This, in your lover's words, would give you a fresh perspective and update your knowledge of the law, as well as a useful contact like the Duke. However, your dear Zhongli did not expect that your thirst for knowledge would be overshadowed by a reluctant desire to help the helpless.

Wriothesley was the first at Fontaine to notice this, so he didn't stop you when you offered your knowledge and help during a trial at the Opera Epiclese, a murder case that was quite scandalous, but not enough to horrify you…

As a paralegal, your knowledge had become indispensable in subsequent trials, so much so that you spent more time in the office of Iudex Neuvillette than in the Fortress. One day you had to attend to a poor robbery victim, the next day you had to observe the petitions and lawsuits of a Sumeru traveler who had come to town, another day you had to make sure that Liney had not been sued for one of those dangerous magic tricks, and then you had to return to the Opera for more cases… and so on for the months you spent there.

Mornings and afternoons you were busy, surrounded by paperwork and research. Fontaine's technology was indeed a welcome relief, and you counted the days to return to Liyue with plans for those strange machines….

As long as the sun was high, you kept your mind on your work, whether it was at a trial or in Monsieur Neuvillette's office. But when the moon rose, and even the Iudex warned you that you had worked too hard, you enjoyed the tourist wonders the city had to offer. The cuisine was very different from Liyue's, the clothes and the songs… ….

Neuvillette, like the good ruler he is, as a result of all the help you had given him, dedicated himself to being your guide during your stay there.

You had found in the Iudex a pleasant companion, whose stories and knowledge consumed you with curiosity. He reminded you of your Zhongli in many ways, and in that ancestral spirit they both radiate… After all, both of them had been great ancestral dragons at some point in their lives.

The farewell from Fontaine had been anything but sad, you had promised to come back, the Melusines had obliged you… and they had given you a box of macaroons. The return to Liyue is much easier than the departure, and when you finally see the red-and-green tiled roofs of the atavistic buildings, a warmth floods your heart. Home… you're finally back.

You hadn't told Zhongli about your return, so he's surprised when he catches your scent while drinking tea near the Wanmin Restaurant. He puts the cup down on the table and, with a subtle movement, closes his eyes, concentrating on the scent emanating from your skin. Yes… it is definitely you, it is the scent of your hair, the balm of your lips, the smell of the cream you use to moisturize your hands… how he missed that smell… how many times he had masturbated smelling your clothes, in the dark solitude of his apartment, longing for you to come back to him and let him take you on the floor, on the table or wherever…

He could perceive every bit of your cinnamon scent, of the lavender cologne you had bought a few months ago, of the floral soap with which you washed your clothes, even the new smells, the dew from the plants of Fontaine, the scent of the flour with which they prepared their famous cakes, the outflow of the sea in which you must have swum, and… what is that smell?

Zhongli frowns, no matter how expressive his face contorts as he turns his head toward the cobblestone streets of his city to meet your figure and your surprised, almost disappointed expression.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," you complain as you embrace him from behind and leave a kiss on his head, how much you missed the scent of his dark curls, the feel of the softness of his hair… the scent of the man he is… you can't wait to have him on top of you that night…

"I smelled you from miles away," he mentions as if it were something banal, though in a rather stern tone of voice. You can't help but dive into the deep doubts of that foul smell. It seems familiar to him…

"I missed you too, my dear… Ah… It's been a long trip, but I had fun… I learned a lot," you say smiling, "Wriothesley was very kind to me, he gave me a lot of freedom to work in the Fortress…" you begin to tell.

The Duke, Zhongli thinks, no… that smell doesn't belong to him….

"Clorinde saved me from trouble when I first came to Fontaine…" you continue.

No… neither did she, Zhongli tells himself.

"Oh, Lady Furina was also very hospitable to me, even though she had a terrible flu when I first started working with the Iudex Neuvillette… oh, I almost forgot to mention the Hydro Dragon to you," you laugh, "you two have a lot in common…"

That smell… that reptilian stench of primordial water. So that's the name the vermin is using now…

Zhongli, smelling Neuvillette's perfume on your clothes, on your skin, can't help but think of all the days you spent with this man… being with him instead. He starts to feel a burning spark inside him that could explode any moment. Jealousy, people would tell him, he would call it thirst for death and war….

For the rest of the afternoon, all he hears from you is how wonderful and interesting Monsieur Neuvillette is… Neuvillette this, Neuvillette that, Neuvillette complimented me, Neuvillette helped me… Although you talk little about him and more about the other friends you made during your stay in Fontaine, in your territorial friend's mind it feels like you're explaining to him what a catch Monsieur Neuvillette is, a dragon who's not afraid to rule his country... while he…. Well

"I didn't think he was such a dragon," you comment, recalling the time Liney insisted Neuvillette to show him his original form, lying that it was his birthday, something the kindly Iudex, who cherishes the friendship of such an interesting being as Monsieur Liney, cannot deny.

"Did he show you his draconic form?" asks Zhongli, as if out of a trance.

"Only for a few minutes, but that was only once. I think I saw him more often as a dragon-human hybrid when we were working in his office late at night," you comment, very unaware of the pressure cooker Zhongli is turning into.

How comfortable Neuvillette must have felt, Zhongli thinks, to show himself to her like that… did they…? No, he reproaches himself, y/n would never do such a thing. And surely Neuvillette was just being kind to a guest like her, who had been so helpful during her stay there.

"Well," Zhongli adds, in the mood to change the course of the conversation, feeling a little more relieved, shedding his primitive instincts, "how was the weather?" he already knows the answer… rainy as usual… ….

"Pretty sunny," you reply.

And that's the breaking point for the great Rex Lapis, who has so patiently endured this conversation.

You hadn't realized how quickly night had fallen on Liyue when Zhongli led you by the hand at a brisk pace to your shared apartment. His grip is strong, like a heavy chain on your wrist, and his steps are longer and faster.

"Zhongli," you mutter between gasps at the performance you must give for this feat… After your long journey, the workout is going badly for you, "slow down".

"Yes… practice," he says, "because soon you will ask me to go much slower."

Your voice catches in your throat, while a few hours ago you had the idea of intimacy with Zhongli, you were expecting something slow and loving, as it usually happens when you return from your crossings… not what this man has in mind.

You stumble up the stairs, covering your face in embarrassment at the curious looks of your neighbors as they watch the unchanging funeral consultant drag his girlfriend up the stairs and into the confines of his apartment.

"Zhongli, stop it," you say once inside, breaking free of his grip, "what will the neighbors think?"

"That I'm fucking you until your legs stop working," he says, locking the front door.

"Don't say things like that," you squeak as you cover your face, your face red as a tomato.

"I wonder if you were this embarrassing when you were with your dear, respectable Iudex Neuvillette," Zhongli whispers, a hoarse undertone rising from his throat.

"Wait, Zhongli, it's not what it looks like," you try to defend yourself, though your words seem futile as the former Archon has you pinned against the wall, his entire form dwarfing your diminutive humanity.

"I'll tell you what it looks like," Zhongli says, slurring his words, despite the darkness, you can see his figure changing, growing in front of you, and his eyes, like two amber fireflies, piercing, are the only glimpse of light in the house, "it looks like I have to remind you who is the only dragon that can impress you, who is the only dragon that can eat your pussy and penetrate you until you're split in two."

"Zhongli!" you try to push him away, even though deep down something has started to smoke between your legs.

"I can smell how I turn you on," Zongli hisses, sinking his nose into your neck and brushing your cheek with his… horns?

"These…" you bring your hands up to his head, running them along the curve of the appendages that spring from his forehead, tangled in a spiral.

"Do you like them?" Zhongli muses, so deep and seductive that your skin bristles and your core soaks at the mere sound.

"I've never seen them before…" you say, your voice cracking, something besides Zhongli's hands caressing your hips and sliding up your thigh.

A tail… you'd be sure it was a tail if it wasn't for the darkness…

You turn your face away from Zhongli to watch him closely, noticing a certain look in his amber eyes, a pupil of an unfamiliar shape, and the way his smile shows you his sharp, gleaming fangs.

"I hate that you smell like him," he growls, shaking his head, "you should smell like me."

"Zhongli…"

"Is that all you can say?" he teases, sensing the eager tone in your voice, the nerves coursing through you from the tip of your nose to your toes, overwhelming your body in a rising flame of bubbling pleasure.

Zhongli is subtle as he leads you to the carpet, lighting the fireplace with his breath of fire on the way, illuminating the room and drawing a gasp of surprise from you.

Zhongli's figure towers over you, slender, almost monstrous. You find yourself propped up on your elbows, your skin brushing against the fabric of the carpet, while before you were wondering why he didn't leave you on the bed, now you understand, and that is that he wouldn't fit.

"Do you like what you see?" asks Zhongli, a proud smile on his handsome face. He kneels over you, cupping your frame between his thighs, to remove his clothes, which would have been torn by now but for the subtlety of his movements.

The thin fabric of his cloak falls behind his back, as delicate as lilies in spring, while his vest slides under his shoulders, tracing the slender figure of the ancient Archon. His tie is undone with a practiced gesture, and his white shirt opens in two, revealing the sculpted figure of the man above you.

The golden details of his skin reflect the fire of the hearth, and his chest, as fiery as the flame beside you, rises proudly before your incredulous gaze. The distance between his shoulders has grown, his chiseled muscles flexing with every movement. He undoes his gloves with his teeth, and as perverse as you look, you can't help but wet your lips with your tongue. His digits, like the rest of his body, have grown in size.

"I can read on your face the myriad fantasies that plague your depraved mind," he muses, adding a snaky sound to the end of the sentence.

Saliva drips down your throat, sweat trickles down your forehead, and your fluids begin to soak your core, all wet.

Zhongli is very skilled at undressing you, he has always taken his time for this kind of prelude, warming you up for him and adjusting your body to his eager caresses… but this is not just any situation… no, in his mind, in the mind of the powerful and ancestral ruler of Liyue, the goal is not to show you what a fervent and devoted lover he can become, but to rip all traces of the unwanted water dragon from your head and body.

"Careful," you mewel as you feel his claws growing and tearing at the fabric of your blouse and skirt.

"If these rags are so important to you, you know I can buy much more graceful ones that flatter the divinity of your figure," he orders, he's a tough nut to crack… and damn, that makes you…

"It's not the clothes…" you look for support on his shoulders, he moves you as if you were a rag doll, "I'm afraid you'll rub my skin…"

"Precious," he inhales deep into the skin on your shoulder, "I'm very skilled at moving when I'm with you. I would never allow myself such an atrocity, to bruise this pristine skin would be punished with the worst of punishments".

"Still," you whisper, and he gives you a golden look, expecting what you will say, with a calm but instinctive depth, you feel the flame of his lust grow and spread.

"Calm down," Zhongli says, laying your back down on the carpet again and parting the fabric of your bra with his claws. Your breasts heave after the release, your face turned sideways with crimson cheeks. "You look so beautiful when you're embarrassed," he adds, dipping his nose between your breasts, taking a deep breath of your eager, warm scent, bathed in eroticism and anticipation.

Zhongli slides his nose over your belly and then between your legs, over your soaked lingerie. Without taking his eyes off you, his eyes locked with yours in an iron grip, he slides the elastic of your garment around your hips, sliding the thin fabric down your thighs and then your ankles. The movement is slow and painful, but exhilarating, just as the image he gives you by smelling your underwear is exhilarating.

His beautified figure towers over you, the fabric clenched in a fist to his nose, where a deep sniff brings Zhongli the ecstasy that no recreational tea leaf could ever provide. The nectar of your sex is the only delicacy he needs that night, whether in his mouth or around his cock…

Throwing the lingerie aside, Zhongli places his hand on his pants, ripping the dark fabric tightly from his muscular legs to reveal not one, but two huge, thick, throbbing cocks eager for you.

"What the fuck!" you exclaim as you watch Zhongli's monstrous appendages slam into his abdomen.

He seems to ignore your expression as he buries his face between your legs, kissing the inside of your thighs, inhaling the juice inside of you as it oozes from your center… Well, he tells himself, it doesn't smell like Neuvillette, at least not here.

"Do you hear me?" you call, lifting his face by the horns, "do you have two cocks?"

"'Indeed, yes," he answers, taciturn as always, "what a crude way to question me about my nature, dear," he says, while you notice his tail waving behind him, wagging from side to side like a predator about to hunt. .

"Did you learn these manners on your wonderful journey to the Nation of Justice?" Zhongli asks as his tail wraps around your thigh, grazing your skin with its scales as it moves closer to your center.

"No… but it was a coherent question I asked," you argue with him, so vainly that you look pathetic.

"And I guess you didn't learn how dragons mate either?"

"The Iudex and I," you start to speak, but your voice stops when you feel Zhongli's tail tempting your folds, "He and I never… no…"

"Too bad," Zhongli replies, "because at least his tail would be softer than mine."

The words catch in your throat, a gasp as Zhongli spreads your legs and the rough skin of his tail slowly slides into your pussy, shaping the surprised, wet, velvety walls around him.

"Ahg!" You cry out between painful moans, you haven't even had time to get used to his thickness and he's already reached the bottom.

You writhe on the rug, your hands clenched tightly against the fabric of the rug as Zhongli holds your legs apart, watching the embarrassing way your pussy clenches around his appendage.

Your back arched as you heard him laugh, sending vibrations to your center, as if everything in it was somehow connected.

"Nothing to add?" he asks, almost mocking you.

"I~…mmhh~" you mewl as your chest rises and falls heavily, waves of heat gather in your belly, the thickness of his tail hurts, burns, but he touches you in every place you could want, even though it seems if he went any further he could reach your throat, "Ahg~"

"Too big?" he asks, pulling back just in time to hit your cervix again.

"Ah!" you moan hotly.

"Speechless?" Zhongli plays with your mind as he withdraws again, this time further, to sink deep inside you again, this time harder.

You can't help but let out a high-pitched, almost heartbreaking scream as you feel him plunge his tail all the way in, welcomed by your walls as they get used to him. His tail is long, largely due to his draconic form, so each time it curls up to penetrate you, it reaches the bottom with a crushing fall, pressing down on the rubbery spot that suffocates you.

Zhongli crosses your legs over his shoulder and pumps his tail into your pussy as if he's cleaning something inside you. Your back jiggles in this position, your waist moves at the stimulus of his thrusts inside you, your throat emits the most outrageous cries of pleasure you've ever made.

He goes in and out, rubbing every corner of you in synchronicity and fervor, little patient with your tolerance and abusing your limits. It excites him to see you screaming for him, and it excites him even more to see pearly drops sliding from your eyes, glistening like the juices overflowing from your abused hole.

"Ahhg~ yes, yes~" each word shouted between moans and sighs, deepens in Zhongli an instinctive way that he has wanted to show you for a long time. Each thrust accelerates, becoming frantic and jerky, each stroke brimming with power, and his hands wrap around your legs, holding you in place so you don't move as he ejaculates inside you.

His tail spasms painfully and suddenly you feel a familiar warmth explode inside you. he has cum inside you, you know it because you are aware of the sensation of his seed overflowing from your pussy… although you doubt that it came from his tail…

"You…" you gasp, mesmerized by the dark new sensation Zhongli has given you.

"Looks like you enjoyed it more than I thought," he smiles, a dark smile.

His tail emerges from inside you and slides over your stomach and waist, turning your body until your knees and palms touch the carpet.

"You're not very swollen yet, are you?" he asks.

"Well, I… ah!" you moan in mid-sentence as you feel his fingers sink deep into you, almost as long as your insides, reaching the deepest valleys of your insides, "Zh…. Zhongli~."

He moves his fingers inside you, bigger and thicker than you remembered. He pulls them out to leave your fluids on his cocks and plunges his fingers back in to lubricate your ass this time.

"I never dared to ask you to do it from behind," he says as he spreads your buttocks with his hands, exposing your small hole to him, "perfectly made for me," Zhongli whispers to himself.

You feel his thick member slide into your pussy, your entrance getting used to his new length as it throbs around him. Almost immediately he enters your ass, slowly working his way inside you, your hole welcoming the new guest with contractions that elicit guttural moans from Zhongli.

"Not so hard, darling," he growls, "or you'll make me cum," he adds, placing his hands firmly on your hips, avoiding the way your body trembles at his intrusion.

"It hurts~" you let out with a moan, because indeed it hurts, but the feeling of being so full makes your body feel like you are on cloud nine, experiencing sensations you have never felt before. "Mmhhh ~ Zhongli ~," you unconsciously move your hips back and vulgarly ask him to start his thrusts.

"I'm going to move, dear. Need you to hold on as long as you can," he says, leaning into your ear, the warmth of his breath flooding your neck and cheek. He doesn't want to hurt you, in short, he's jealous of your new friendship in Fontaine, but he didn't want to make you a victim of his feelings. He loves you, he is madly in love with you, and that is why he is willing to show you, in the most draconic human way possible, who is the only one who deserves to have you.

"Please," you beg, grinding your hips against his, feeling his cocks sink deeper into you.

Zhongli, like the ardent lover he is, doesn't keep his beautiful lady waiting, not after how well you've just taken him. He rubs your insides with his cock, eliciting mellifluous moans from you, and in an arduous retreat, he enters you again, all the way in, again and again and again.

The sound of skin against skin fills the room, Zhongli rushes into you at a frenetic and almost deadly pace, one second you feel empty and the next you are completely full, his appendages bruise your insides, shaking your insides and churning your belly in skillful movements.

He throws his head back, enjoying the way you clench around him, completely hooked on you, trapped in your vicious holes. He takes one of your breasts in his hand, massaging the soft, sweaty flesh under his fingers as heartbreaking screams leave your throat, his tail trailing up your other nipple, wrapping around it as one of his hands massages your clit.

You're completely pampered by his limbs, screaming his name as if it would save you from the overwhelming storm of pleasure consuming your body. Your face is contorted with pleasure, your eyes are in the back of your head, your heart is pounding against your chest just as Zhongli is doing inside you. All in perfect synchronicity.

The climax of pleasure comes when Zhongli takes your hands and places them behind you while his tail splits your lips and slides over your tongue, down your throat. All your holes are completely filled, all subdued by him, entering relentlessly without stopping for you to rest.

Zhongli grunts and moans as he feels your throat close to his tail and as your ass begins to shake around his cock. And he does it even more when he thinks about how beautiful you will look completely bathed in his cum. That's why when he comes inside you, from your mouth and pussy, he can't help but move away from you to get a clear picture of you gagging as you try to just swallow his contents, and as the milky fluid gushes from your butt under your thighs.

You cough and wipe your lips with the back of your hand, looking over your shoulder at the way your legs and ankles are soaked with hIs seed. Dragon stuff, you think, because he's never given you a load of this size before.

"Charming," he whispers, enchanted by the image your corrupted form offers him, "divinely accommodating and beautiful. The most precious treasure I have found on my long journey," he adds, crawling towards you, wrapping your body in his arms as he surrounds you with his figure in fluid movements, pressing you against his chest.

You feel Zhongli's chest vibrate, and the way he has put you on his chest, between his arms, and covered you with his tail, gives you the impression that he is holding you in a shelter, you, his precious treasure.

"Tomorrow I will make you a nest, I have to build one so I can take care of you and our cubs," he whispers above your head.

"Did it really occur to you that I could cheat on you with another man?" you ask, taking advantage of the fact that Zhongli has let down his guard.

"It was my mistake to let my foolish thoughts control my actions. In fact, I think you are the most loyal person I have ever met in my life," he replies.

"If so… why doubt me?"

"Because you are too good for someone like me. Because your sense of help and perseverance is more like that of a dragon who decides to take care of his people than one like me… who leaves them to their own fate," there was a hint of melancholy in his words.

"You have been a good ruler, my dear Rex Lapis. Liyue is more than ready to be ruled by humans…don't think that you have left it to its fate…especially when you walk through its streets and talk to its people," you smile as you caress his chest.

"My dear y/n, you always have the words to make my cold heart warm and smooth," he plays with the strands of your hair, "I am deeply sorry that I ever doubted you…in the near future I will make it up to you, and maybe in the distant future we can remember this as a simple and shameful mistake of mine," he adds, joining his lips to yours in a kiss that shows you his painstaking sincerity, the doors of his emotions wide open for you.

Zhongli's tongue slides into your mouth, giving the kiss a more naughty touch… and you don't know how, but suddenly you find yourself at his mercy again, stretching your pussy with his two cocks inside you, shaping your walls with relentless attacks.

"I want to see you with a swollen belly," he moans, "you're going to be a beautiful mother…" he says, opening your legs, digging his claws into your thighs, watching as his two cocks disappear into your hole.

Now that you think about it… maybe Zhongli is in heat…

#zhongli smut #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #genshin smut #genshin #zhongli #genshin zhongli #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli x you #morax #rex lapis

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jonsnowunemploymentera · 3 months ago

Text

I feel so dumb for never having realized this before but I was thinking about the bookend in AGoT between the Others, the dragons, and two heroes: Waymar Royce and Daenerys Targaryen.

While squaring off against the Others, Waymar Royce asks for a dance.

Ser Waymar met him bravely. “Dance with me then.” He lifted his sword high over his head, defiant. His hands trembled from the weight of it, or perhaps from the cold. Yet in that moment, Will thought, he was a boy no longer, but a man of the Night’s Watch.

It’s notable that this scene is eerily silent save for the bits of dialogue. And when Waymar’s dance finally begins, there’s a notable lack of music.

The pale sword came shivering through the air. Ser Waymar met it with steel. When the blades met, there was no ring of metal on metal; only a high, thin sound at the edge of hearing, like an animal screaming in pain. Royce checked a second blow, and a third, then fell back a step. Another flurry of blows, and he fell back again.

I’ve always asserted that Ser Waymar is a failed last hero if we judge his success based off Old Nan’s blueprint.

So as cold and death filled the earth, the last hero determined to seek out the children, in the hopes that their ancient magics could win back what the armies of men had lost. He set out into the dead lands with a sword, a horse, a dog, and a dozen companions. For years he searched, until he despaired of ever finding the children of the forest in their secret cities. One by one his friends died, and his horse, and finally even his dog, and his sword froze so hard the blade snapped when he tried to use it. And the Others smelled the hot blood in him, and came silent on his trail, stalking him with packs of pale white spiders big as hounds—”

Both Ser Waymar and the last hero lost their companions and both had their swords shatter to the cold. Yet Waymar failed to complete one important step: find the children of the forest. The children are also known as “the singers”. So it’s notable that Ser Waymar attempts to dance without any music(ians) to accompany him. And because he does so, his dance ends in failure.

But then we have Daenerys Targaryen in the Dothraki Sea.

As Daenerys Targaryen rose to her feet, her black hissed, pale smoke venting from its mouth and nostrils. The other two pulled away from her breasts and added their voices to the call, translucent wings unfolding and stirring the air, and for the first time in hundreds of years, the night came alive with the music of dragons.

Dany performs a miracle in bringing dragons to life, the first person to do so in centuries. And these dragons sing a song that proclaims her, an exiled young princess and a widow, Azor Ahai reborn - the champion of fire, and warrior of light.

This bookend between the first and last chapters is so poignant. It’s not just that fire has returned to combat Ice. It’s that Dany brought back the music necessary to complete this dance. We start the book with a failed hero and end it with the rise of a true one; also interesting that Waymar’s end comes while he’s down on his knees whereas Dany rises to her feet reborn.

This makes Dany’s identity as the promised prince(ss) all the more impressive.

“He has a song,” the man replied. “He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire.” He looked up when he said it and his eyes met Dany’s, and it seemed as if he saw her standing there beyond the door.

Waymar failed because he didn’t have a song to accompany him. Yet Dany has a song to dance to. A song of fire.

I think this raises some interesting questions regarding the nature of this great conflict. There not only has to be a song to dance to, but it seems that there is a key distinction between the singer and the dancer. Rhaegar Targaryen failed to fulfill the prophecy because he was the singer and not the dancer. His role was to provide the hero’s musical accompaniment. In a way, it’s almost like he as the bard is the herald. And the herald is rarely, if ever, the main character. So notice how Rhaegar heralds the hero, the king, while looking at Dany.

But! - there’s different kinds of songs. Dany has one, made by her dragons. But it’s not be the only one. The children of the forest are heavily associated with the last hero and while Waymar Royce is dead, there lives another: Bran Stark.

Bran found the children, the singers, and is a step closer to completing the last hero’s journey.

Now Bran is an interesting case.

“Go,” Bran whispered to his own horse. He touched her neck lightly, and the small chestnut filly started forward. Bran had named her Dancer. She was two years old, and Joseth said she was smarter than any horse had a right to be.

He has a dancing horse but at some point has to leave her behind. So does that mean that he has to learn to do the dancing in his own way?

And I find it interesting that Bran has a female dancer horse because this creates a neat parallel with Dany, a dancer who may also be the stallion that mounts the world; if it’s not her, then it has to be her mount, Drogon. This is important if we consider that the last hero, Azor Ahai/the promised prince, the Stallion That Mounts the World, etc. are all different yet complimentary manifestations of one heroic legend.

But the issue of songs doesn’t end there because there still exists one Jon Snow, another version of the last hero and promised prince. Jon isn’t a bard but he has been positioned as being adjacent to dancers. I won’t harp on about Jon’s parallels with Waymar Royce because they’ve been done to death. But it seems that Jon, like Bran and Dany, will succeed where Ser Waymar failed.

Because not only does Jon have music to herald him:

That night he dreamt of wildlings howling from the woods, advancing to the moan of warhorns and the roll of drums. Boom DOOM boom DOOM boom DOOM came the sound, a thousand hearts with a single beat.

But he is also positioned as a last man standing among many dead heroes:

“Stand fast,” Jon Snow called. “Throw them back.” He stood atop the Wall, alone. “Flame,” he cried, “feed them flame,” but there was no one to pay heed. They are all gone. They have abandoned me.

And he has a sword that will not shatter against the cold:

“Snow,” an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist.

It’s noteworthy that Jon is the son of a singer, Rhaegar Targaryen. The very singer who sang the song of ice and fire; and notice how Jon is clad in both. Plus he has been mentored by another, Mance Rayder, whom he eventually succeeds.

At a quick glance, it’s very interesting to me that Jon is constantly listening to songs beyond the Wall. There’s the song of the blue winter rose (which in a way heralds his own birth), the song of Joramun and the Horn of Winter, and many others.

It’s also noteworthy just how often giants are mentioned as the subject of songs in Jon’s POV chapters. I bring this up because of the Last of the Giants:

Ooooooh, I am the last of the giants, my people are gone from the earth. The last of the great mountain giants, who ruled all the world at my birth.

I think there is a parallel here between the dragons, the giants, and the children of the forest. These are all dying species, yet they linger on for the song of ice and fire still needs to be brought to completion.

And let’s consider where our heroes fit in all this. Dany commands the dragons, Bran learns from the children, while Jon begins to befriend the giants. All these creatures make musical accompaniments for our heroes to dance to.

Lastly, I’m inclined to think of the Stark girls though I’m not entirely sure where they would fit in all of this. Arya, at some point, trains to be a dancer:

On the way back to his chambers, he came upon his daughter Arya on the winding steps of the Tower of the Hand, windmilling her arms as she struggled to balance on one leg. The rough stone had scuffed her bare feet. Ned stopped and looked at her. “Arya, what are you doing?” “Syrio says a water dancer can stand on one toe for hours.” Her hands flailed at the air to steady herself. Ned had to smile. “Which toe?” he teased. “Any toe,” Arya said, exasperated with the question. She hopped from her right leg to her left, swaying dangerously before she regained her balance. “Must you do your standing here?” he asked. “It’s a long hard fall down these steps.” “Syrio says a water dancer never falls.” She lowered her leg to stand on two feet. “Father, will Bran come and live with us now?”

Now Arya is no singer, but her wolf is.

In another place, his little sister lifted her head to sing to the moon, and a hundred small grey cousins broke off their hunt to sing with her.

On the other hand, Sansa is no dancer but she is known for her ability to sing. And boy does she sing beautifully.

Her throat was dry and tight with fear, and every song she had ever known had fled from her mind. Please don't kill me, she wanted to scream, please don't. She could feel him twisting the point, pushing it into her throat, and she almost closed her eyes again, but then she remembered. It was not the song of Florian and Jonquil, but it was a song. Her voice sounded small and thin and tremulous in her ears. Gentle Mother, font of mercy, Save our sons from war, we pray,

In fact, a lot of Sansa’s songs are prayers for those who dance to the music of swords. Her songs are soothing, calming. And see this during Stannis’ assault on Kings Landing when she is able to calm Sandor and the noble women through the power of song. Hers is not a song to dance to, it’s a different kind though I’m not entirely sure what it entails. I do want to say, though, that Sansa is often paralleled with creates that take flight; various birds and bats. So she is a singer, much like the dragons.

I may have neglected other characters here, but I just thought it was intriguing that our main heroes (Jon, Bran, Dany, maybe Arya) are all positioned as dancers for the song of ice and fire.

#jon snow #daenerys targaryen #bran stark #arya stark #sansa stark #waymar royce #the last hero #the prince that was promised #the stallion that mounts the world #the song of ice and fire #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #i also wanted to add that jon has so many singers around him - his father and his mentor and his lover #and the wildlings and giants and potentially his wolf?#ghost is mute but there’s that weird dream when he sings? to the moon idk #and then we have bran who is constantly listening to songs just like jon which is very interesting #anyway some dumb random thoughts lmao

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thegnomelord · 11 months ago

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What about Monster!AU for prompt 5. Male reader and price please :)

Sure thing anon, made it a mage reader again, was trying to study for a 'lovely' surprise test but inspiration decided to strike me :/. Play the game HERE

Prompt: “My feelings aren’t real and my heart’s a fucking idiot.”

CW:NSFW, switch/power bottom Dragon Price, Male Mage reader, Oral, Anal, shower sex, semi public sex, reader is oblivious for a bit.

Price swears his hair and scales are going to go completely gray because of you.

You've been avoiding him for a week now, and all the base knows why — Price can still hear your desperate voice begging and bargaining with whatever will listen "I'll buy you dinner please-just stay alive- I love you- damn it you slimy bastard don't you dare die on me-" as you try to keep him alive, magic flowing from your arms to heal the gaping hole in his side despite the bullets raining overhead; a valiant knight protecting him like he's a prince instead of a dragon.

And Price can remember the way his heart had fluttered at your words, at the way you had hugged him so firmly to keep him safe as your magic raged all around you like a wild force of nature, at the way you looked at him so tenderly— eyes burning with mana like the gaze of a god he's your most prized possession —right before the blood loss made him black out.

But now that Price was out of the hospital, his side permanently marked with your magic and a hefty load of paperwork on his desk, you were acting like you never said anything. Anytime someone brings it up you just ignore them, ignore him, throwing yourself into training as much as you can. And it's getting on his nerves, his draconic blood making anger and malcontent burn in his bones because you'd looked at him like a mate but now it's like he doesn't exist beyond training and missions.

He knows it's against the rules, knows he shouldn't hope for much when he sets out to find you, but he does. It's not hard; though his sensitive nose easily picks up the stench of magic, it's the lingering mana burrowed into his skin that tugs him in a direction, even the foreign parts of him wanting you. He finds you alone in the training room, the ground around you scorched beyond hell.

"We need ta' talk lad." Price rumbles as he closes the door behind him, the deep thrum of his voice hiding the anxious pressure he feels in his chest.

Your head whips to look at him. Price cherishes the way your eyes soften when you see him like a glittering gem. Then a sea of ice settles over your eyes, and you turn your head back to the target dummy as if looking at Price makes you sick. "Nothing to talk about captain."

"That so?" Price asks like he doesn't believe you, because he doesn't. Ancient instincts tug on his mind and he follows them. You know he knows what's plaguing your mind, both of you are aware of the elephant in the room and Price can see the way your shoulders progressively tense as he draws near. But you're a stubborn fool, you refuse to show how his presence makes your heart beat faster despite how each of his steps rings like a gunshot in your ears.

Your mind fails to conjure up words but you force an "Hmh," out of your throat, trying to ignore how Price is so close to you, the heat of his body radiating into yours. His remaining wing stretches out, scales and leathery membranes barely brushing over your shoulder, but the intent is clear; the claim is clear.

You try to ignore him, ignore yourself, clinging to the sensation of your sharp mana digging into your veins as you summon another bout of magic to shoot at the training dummy, whisps of formless energy quickly forming into your preferred element.

His hand settles on your hip, not enough to make you loose focus just yet. "Because last ah remember," He leans in closer, the smell of black coffee and cigars on his breath. This close he can smell you instead of your magic, his chest rumbling against your back with a happy purr. "you promised me dinner if I lived."

You nearly choke on air, your magic sputtering out like an old car engine. "I-" You whirl around, your noses almost touching from how close you are. "-that's not what I'd meant!"

His heart should break at that, but before it can his sensitive ears pick up how rapidly your heart's pounding in your chest, reptilian eyes noting how you're flushed more than usual, breathing rapidly without even noticing it.

"Really now?" That greedy part in his bones urges him on, begging and pleading for him to just take you. His other hand settles on your shoulder, keeping you in place, close to him just like he wants. "Then ah suppose all that 'bout me bein' a slimy bastard was also not true?"

You want to flinch away but can't, your own body a traitor to you, a deep frown tugging on your lips. "Price, I wasn't-"

"And-" He cuts you off by leaning even closer, his forehead resting against yours and fuck, your head fits perfectly between his horns, like you belong there. "-I must've misheard you when you said you loved me?" He raises an eyebrow, voice both teasing and serious, holding his breath.

Just that small contact of skin on skin has your resolve crumbling like sand, "Listen, just-" You suck in a sharp breath, the situation both bliss and hell for you. “My feelings aren’t real and my heart’s a fucking idiot. Okay? And just-" You try to stammer the same lies you'd tell yourself every time you'd catch yourself thinking of him more than just your captain (which was way too often).

Price's clawed hand grips your chin and manually closes your mouth, his smooth scales cool against your warm body. You forget to breathe, your eyes flickering all over his face as he smirks, voice deep and guttural like the rumble of moving tectonic plates. "Then I'm an idiot too."

The world goes completely silent as he kisses you, holding your head still so he can claim your lips for himself, his deep purr shaking both of your chests when you submit so easily to him, like getting a gulp of fresh air after years of drowning.

You're so lost in his taste and his scent and just him you don't notice when Price roughly pulls you into the showers, tail and wing and arms holding your body; as if your brain could even conjure the thought of leaving. Bursts of awareness assault your mind every time you part for a breath and to displace a piece of clothing, his sharp claws tickling your skin as he can't wait and just cuts through your remaining clothes.

Clawed fingers grip your hair and tilt your head back, exposing your throat to sharp fangs and you submit easily, trusting him not to hurt you too much. Low sounds rumble in your throat as Price marks you, biting one spot until it bleeds your mana rich blood, greedily drinking up the crimson droplets and soothing the wound with his tongue just enough for the sting to become pleasant before biting again. Bite, lick, bite, lick, bite, lick— chest rumbling with satisfaction he pulls away, "Oh, look at you," He growls, your throat turned into a warzone, "So handsome, like a charming knight."

You snort and grip his hips, the water of the shower raining down the two of you. "Yeah?" You ask as you turn him around, pushing his chest against the wall as you drop to your knees. "Gonna let me lay you?" You ask, kissing down his spine, your rough hands groping and fondling his ass.

"Wanker," Price growls and lifts his tail, revealing his hole to you. You almost cum on the spot from the sight of it, looking every bit what you'd imagined he'd look like. But you don't get to look for long before his tail wraps around your throat, soft underbelly scales scraping against your bruised throat as he pulls you closer. "Only, if you prove your worth."

You don't need a formal invitation, pushing your tongue out as you slobber all over his hole, your hands keeping his asscheeks spread so you can worm your tongue into his hole, feeling him clench around your tongue, his moans ringing like angel song in your ears. His claws tangle in your hair, pushing your head even closer to worship him better. And you do, like a pious believer you lick and suck and nibble around his hole, your nose buried in the space between his ass and tail, barely able to breathe but it's a small price to pay.

Finally he grows greedy for more, his tail releases a fraction and he shoves you, making you fall back on your ass, your cock standing like a flagpole. You only manage to rise up on your elbows before Price jumps on you like the beast he is, thigh powerful thighs bracketing your own, his clawed fingers scraping against your skin as they settle on your shoudlers.

"Now then," Price rumbles like an ancient mountain, reptilian eyes hooded with lust. He feels on top of the world with the way you look at him, like a desperate mutt, your cock hard like a rock between his legs. "Stay still, mighty knight, an-" Price lifts himself up, positioning your cockhead at his puckered rim. "-relax."

The running water muffles your combined groans, his walls hot and tight like the fire in his chest. His weight bears down on you, wing stretching out in a show of pleasure, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he pants. "Fuck," Price growls, grinding his hips down into yours. "Feel so good, lad."

You grunt, your hands fitting on his hips like they always belonged there. Magic sparks across your arms as pleasure steadily erases your ability to think, but his thick scales keep him safe, a pleased groan leaving his chest as he starts bouncing on you, chasing his own pleasure. You can do nothing but hang on, your hips rising to meet his downward thrust, Price's lips swallowing your moans. You don't have enough sense in your head left to care if anyone was to come in and see you, your mind fully consumed by him.

You cum way too soon, your orgasm sneaking up to you, lightning rushing down your spine and magic sparking across your arms as your brain leaks out of your ears, shooting cum up into his greedy walls.

"Good- good lad." Price grinds his teeth, never stopping his bouncing, lewd sounds ringing through the showers from the way your cum squelches inside him. He rides you past the sting of overstimulation right back to hardness. His hand grabs yours, placing it over the scars on his abdomen where your magic had stitched him back together, greed and lust fueling his desires. "Protected me so good, yeah?" His hips never cease moving, that draconic endurance coming in handy to absolutely wrecking you. "Let me take care of you,"

And like a proper mate, you let him do as he pleases.

#Gnome's Prompt Game #cod mw2 #x reader #gnome correspondence #trinkets from the hoard #male reader #captain john price #top male reader #john price x male reader #john price x reader #cod x male reader #cod smut #cod modern warfare #monster cod au #monster 141 au #mage reader

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thequeenofuselessinformation · 1 year ago

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So basically the entire character list of The ballad of songbirds and snakes is the exes from hell

1. Coriolanus Snow

-Mansplain Manipulate Manwhore

-Great hair and fashion sense

-Love bombs you

-Old money

-His (grand)mom hates you because her son can do no wrong so clearly you're the problem

-His favourite hobby is emotional and mental abuse

-Snitches on you when cheating at family board game night (he's deflecting that he's also cheating)

-Emotionally stagnant (narcissist with mommy and daddy issues)

2. Sejanus Plinth

-Loves you to bits, so does his mom (your waistline will never truly recover)

-Indecisive about where to grab dinner always

-New money and it shows in his insecurity

-Supportive asf

-Breaks up with you because he can't be with a non pacifist/vegan

-Daddy issues

-Condemns Shein hauls

-Identity crisis every other week, you'll have to talk him out of a buzz cut, jumping off the ledge or giving all his money to scammers (if you collect all the stamps you'll get a financial compensation from his dad on the wedding day)

3. Lucy Gray Baird

-Her Ex is a dick, will stalk and harass you

-Her family is a bunch of hippies, will make you eat with your hands, on the floor, while singing Kumbaya

-Sings you to sleep, braids your hair

-Almost poisoned you thrice cause she doesn't understand you shouldn't mix cleaning products together

-Old soul

-Thrifts, recycles

-Puts salt in your coffee after arguments

-Ghosts you after your make or break argument

4. Casca Highbottom

-Never asks about your day, his is always worse

-Drug addict in denial

-Weird beef with his old classmate's son (he never lets anything go)

-Dislikes people, which would be fine if you weren't included

-Always on some sardonic shit, probably a business major with a psych minor

-His pills take all the space in the shared bathroom, your makeup will be shoved in the far lowest drawer next to the TP

-His ancient ass coworkers hit on you at symposiums, he's too high off bathroom cocaine to stop them (or gets off, either way you're tired and want home)

5. Dr Gaul

-Devil Incarnate

-You somehow rizzed her up at a function and she's been showing up at your house ever since (you don't how but she has both the address and a key)

-Petting zoo type of owner

-She always smells like chemicals and latex

-Asks you unhinged "Would you rather" questions and refuses to drop it (makes your Would you love me if i were a worm ex cute by a long shot)

-Will perform experiments on you without your knowledge or consent

-Insists her pet snake shares your bed

-Freak in the streets and the sheets (the restraining order won't even go through cause she's in cahoots with half the Government)

-Definitely wanted for war crimes somewhere, the G in Geneva convention stands for Gaul

6. Lucky Flickerman

-A clown.

-His hair and skincare products take over the entire bathroom/vanity

-He can't dress to save his life, but he sure thinks he can

-Golden retriever boyfriend energy

-Steals your concealer, refuses to admit it

-Would you like to see a magic trick? What do you mean this is a serious fight, there's a quarter up your nose

-Impulsive buyer, has 13 snow globes of panem because they were on sale and looked shiny

-Even his pet thinks he's a dumbass

-Cries during movies

7. Tigris

-Yes she do the cooking, yes she do the cleaning

-Insecure about her appearance (critical, will cost you)

-Her family is a bunch of snobs

-Anything she touches turns into gold

-Her cousin can do no wrong, you have to accommodate everything for him or she'll die (and he never even visits, "just in case")

-Her grandmother is a package deal, I hope you like boomer propaganda and info commercials early on Sunday morning

-Empathetic asf

-Puts everyone's needs above hers (and unfortunately yours)

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weirdmarioenemies · 2 months ago

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Name: Rip Cheato

Debut: Paper Mario

Hello! I am glad you made it. You are just in time, because some guy is here. He's here looking for You! He wants to sell you a Dried Mushroom for 64 coins. Will you buy it? It's not a good deal, but consider this: he has a sort of lamp antenna growing from his scalp. I think that is pretty cool, personally.

He probably makes good use of his lamptenna, since he lives in the sewer. I bet a Sewer Man would know his fungus! Maybe his Dried Mushrooms are impeccable. Maybe he even dries them with his lamp. Don't be judgemental, now. Don't judge someone because his name is derived from "ripoff" and "cheat". Are you the kind of person who would immediately assume someone smells bad, just because their name is Poop Fartley? You better not be. Rip Cheato's name is a little deceiving because while he does sell junk for 64 coins, if you buy what he offers, he'll also sell Star Pieces for 64 coins, and Hoo-Wee! That's a Hot Commodity! I trust him. I think he's just being cheeky for fun.

Name: Chet Rippo

Debut: Paper Mario

Now this guy is whuzzah! What's the deal with this guy! Rip Cheato is weird, true, being strangely human in a game where those are quite limited, but he has a theme going on. He looks like a Sewer Man. Now here we have Chet Rippo, who is some sort of alien platypus clown umbrella? I don't know what he is, but I think it is absolutely splendid. To quote an ancient philosopher:

"Sometimes in life, there is a weird guy." -Opabinia

If I didn't know any better, I might think Chet Rippo would appear from a UFO or circus tent or perhaps a dimensional portal. He doesn't! He just hangs out in Toad Town. He's a weird guy, but a weird guy is still a guy, you know? Except this is no normal guy because he can alter Mario's abilities! For 39 coins he will raise Marios HP, FP, or BP by two points, but- and this is important- he says "heh heh". That means he's shady! For each stat he increases, he will decrease the others each by one!

This makes Chet Rippo far stranger of a guy. Someone in real life could sell you overpriced garbage. But someone in real life altering your stats for a low price? Scary to think about! Imagine someone granting you the ability to remember twice as many bug facts as you currently can, but also making the vision in your left eye worse and making you 25% more sensitive to cold. Frightening magic! But at least the guy doing it is a funny creature.

Chet Rippo appears in The Thousand Year Door as well, but like, does he really? This is a whole different design, and it's not nearly as fun... Eyes In A Void Wizards are fun by default, and so is wearing a barrel on one's head, but this game has a bunch of Eyes In A Void Wizards, and this guy used to be one of the weirdest creatures in the entire game! To hell with this guy. Let's look at his better version again.

Look at him go! Like a flapjack octopus! His arms are even like the fluttering fins! Could he truly just be a big octopus wearing a weird hat? We may never know...

#rip cheato #chet rippo #paper mario #paper mario the thousand year door #mario #mario enemies #?#mario allies #it is subjective #mario weird fellas #now that one we can all agree on surely!#mod chikako

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sidthedollface2 · 9 months ago

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A Crown fit for a God

(Part 2 here)

Pairing: Azriel x Fem Reader

Summary: An enemy threatens Velaris leaving Azriel to choose between his found family and a long lost friend. Can he juggle the two or will he fall for the enemy?

word count: 2.6k

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, hurt/comfort,light smut, war, including injuries, fighting, sign language, no use of y/n, nicknames, magic, greek mythology, pining, jealousy, azriel with other women (sorry), reader with another man (get it friend ; )

A/n: I'm a daydreamer not a writer so if you see any mistakes that's how I dreamt it. Lol

Azriel sat at his desk, reports and sightings of a hooded being trespassing multiple courts, leaving behind scorched farm lands and destroyed buildings scattered across the table. “Any luck?” Elain questioned, running her gentle hands over Azriel's shoulders, loosening his tense muscles. “I’ve been searching for over 500 years, but I think I'm getting close. Most recent sightings have been by women and children. Day or night it does not matter, they've seen IT and their bodies remain still, unable to move or scream until their work is done.” Azriel stared at the map of Prythian. “I think it’s finally here,” he met Elains worried eyes, “in the Night Court.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel 8 yrs old

Azriel stopped sobbing once he knew no one would come for him. The foul smell of char and burnt flesh still lingered in his cell. His small hands trembled and shook from the intense pain, bubbles full of fluid and blackened skin covered both hands. Fingers locked and unable to move, not even to wipe at his heavy tears. The four walls to his cell provided nothing but cold nights and loneliness. With nothing to soothe the heat from his hands Azriel pressed his blistered palms flat to the cold floors. Hissing through clenched teeth as the coldness relieved some of the ache and heat within. Azriel hummed to a song inside his head, anything to pull his tired mind away from the pain and hopelessness he felt. With his eyes squeezed shut he tried to will the tears away, humming louder and louder to drown out his thoughts. His mind circled to a happier time.

Small feet padding through fields of tall grass as he raced to his favorite spot; under a weeping willow. Perched against the tall tree the scent of fresh apples and citrus filled his nose as the wind carried the delicious scent towards him. His ears caught the melodious song of birds high above him. His gaze tracked up the tree to spot the feathered songbird but as soon as he craned his neck towards the sky time froze. A beautiful luna moth with large iridescent wings took flight, landing on the soft skin of Azriel’s cheek, tickling the small boy awake.

Azriel quickly opened his eyes, blinking rapidly in the darkness. The scent of citrus still lingered and time was eerily still. His pupils widened, adjusting to focus on what he was seeing. In the corner of his cell a shadowed figure stood still. Scrambling to his feet Azriel backed himself into the wall behind him. The dark figure inched closer, slowly, step by step. The hooded figure reached for Azriel's small hand. He told his mind to pull away, and to resist. But he was frozen against the cold wall, unable to move or cry out for help; not that anyone would help him. He tried to scream but the air left his lungs. Peeking beneath a hood Azriel saw the most stunning and captivating eyes he’d ever seen. Neither of the same color, yet bright and brilliant. One holds the color of the night sky, dark with swirls of violet and starlight. The other is pale and cloudy like the surface of the moon from Prythian. Your long shiny hair framed your youthful face and pouty lips perfectly. You don’t look much older than him yet you have this ancient presence he can't put his finger on.

You're cool fingertips brush his knuckles, testing for his reaction. A small smile graces your lips as you remember that he’s unable to move. At least unable to move his outer extremities and vocal chords. Yet the windows to his soul tell you he's frightened. His wide hazel eyes are glassy, tears slowly filling his waterline. The rapid rise and fall in his chest is another clue to his distress. You let out a soft sigh as a single tear runs down his dirty cheek. Taking a step back you lay your palm flat against your chest, hoping he’ll understand what you intend to convey. Again, you pat your chest and azriel blinks in response. Bringing your hands in front of you, you tuck your fingers in creating a fist and curl both your forefingers and hook them together, with one wrist facing down and the other up you sign the word ‘Friend.’

You wait for his breaths to slow before you gather his burned hand within yours. His knuckles are angry and reddened from the lack of healthy skin. Moderate pieces are blackened and multiple blisters are threatening to burst. Carefully, you examine the extensive damage that was done, and begin to call upon your magic. Azriel's eyes widen to the size of saucers when your fingertips spark with what looks like stardust and your hand turns completely black from your fingertips down to your wrist. You gently run your star glittered forefinger down his. Starting at the base of his knuckle to the tip of his finger, healing all the delicate tissue and epidermis just like it was before. You release the magic holding him still, allowing him to relax his shoulders and curl the finger you healed. “How did-” the words die in his mouth as you continue to work on the next finger. Tracing once again from the base of his knuckle, down his slender finger to his nail. Revealing smooth and supple skin, no longer burned and charred.

The loud sound of a door opening startled both of you apart. Stopping your healing magic at only two fingers, Azriels paniced eyes met yours. You knew what he was asking. But you couldn't grant him more time, at least not yet. Quickly, you pulled your hood up over your head. Closing your hand in a fist you brought it to your chest, moving it in a circular motion; signing the word ‘sorry.’

“Wait!” Azriel’s arms dart out grasping onto the sleeve of your cloak only for the garment to fall at a pile to his feet. “Mother!” he gasped, shocked at your sudden disappearance, leaving behind your cloak that still had warmth and your scent.

He’d kept your cloak all these years, the only cloth in his cell that kept him warm on those freezing nights.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Az, something is breaching the wards, get down here.

Rhys panicked words pierced through Azriel's mind as he abruptly sat up from the bed, the bed he shared with Elain. He quickly pulled his pants on, followed by his shirt and protective leathers. Placing a kiss to Elain's forehead, he winnowed to the location Rhys mentioned.

An invisible force separated the three males from the dark figure that threatened Velaris.

“Is It alone?” Cassian questioned, glancing behind and around the figure, assessing the intruder. His fingers itched at his sides, waiting for the slightest movement to unleash his blade.

“She’s alone.” Rhys confirmed, gaze narrowed and unwavering at the dark figure.

“She?” Both Cassian and Azriel said in unison, a look of shock on both their faces. It wasn’t that they doubted a female's ability. They knew the power that simmered beneath the skin. The unending strength, if provoked enough. The females in the inner circle, if combined, could take on males twice their size and fight wars alongside the bravest of warriors, but not alone. You’d have to be extremely powerful or extremely stupid to dare face the night court’s high lord alone.

Her gaze lifted above to the bright blue sky as if the power holding Velaris safe was visible to the eye. Her head swiveled left, noting how large the protection ran. Then to her right, gauging the amount of magic needed to breach the wards. At the moment, no army trailed behind her. No warrior or protector was by her side. She was simply there to send a message.

“She’s unarmed.” Azriel's shadows slithered back to him, informing him of the lack of weapons and armor. She was defenseless and although a powerful barrier kept her out of Velaris, the two most violent and skilled warriors along with the most powerful highlord stood before her; she remained fearless. Her strong legs planted firm in the soil. It was difficult to determine what was under her dark cloak. His shadows stilled as her gaze met those of the shadowsinger. He knew those eyes. Azriel had searched for those beautiful eyes in every court, in every crowd, in every female. He’d dreamed of the day he’d see them again. His attention was directed to Rhys as he spoke in a firm demanding tone.

“I will say this once, and only once-”

Rhys' voice caught in his throat as the female's palms met the protective barrier. Electric current coursed through her veins, the power of lightning flickered from her fingers creating an orb of pure energy. Her foot dug into the soil behind her as she braced herself pushing through the wards, creating a space for her body to pass. All three males rushed towards her, charging at the enemy with bared teeth and blades ready to attack. Their large bulking frames and violence in their eyes was enough to bring grown men to their feet.

Cassian sent a blast of red power straight towards her, expecting it to hit its target. Although stronger than most fae, his blast passed through her like a strong gust of wind. Whipping her head to its side, causing her long hair to flow out from under her hood. Her feet stayed planted, unwavering.

“Mother above.” Cassian breathed before he held his sword up high, slicing through the air as he brought it down over her head. Rhys' eyes widened for a fraction as Azriel’s truth teller clashed with Cassian, blocking his effort to harm her. Azriel’s shoulder roughly dug into Cassian's chest as he shoved his brother back with force. Betrayal laced in Cassian's eyes as he gaped at his brother. Out of all their arguments and bickering not once has Azriel disagreed with a common enemy.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Cassian sneered, meeting Azriels force with his own. Never one to back down at defending his court or his high lord.

“You foolish boy!” Amren called from a distance, closing the space between them, “you cannot kill a God.”

“Took you long enough,” Rhys tisked, plucking an invisible lint from his dark shirt.

The hooded figure narrowed her eyes at the approaching Amren and scowled at the title that she clearly did not like. Azriel and Cassian ceased their bickering as Rhys' power shook the very ground they stood on, a wave of darkness ready to protect his city.

“No one has breached these wards in 5,000 years.” Rhys declared with all the confidence of a high lord. Stepping forward, commanding the eyes of the hooded figure in a challenge, “what business does a God have in Velaris, surely you have better things to do.”

“Do not mock her, she can kill you where you stand.” Amren whispered. “As can I.” Rhys challenged.

Her face remained unseen under the protection of her hood. Slowly her fingers came up beside her face, grasping the edges of the hood, she pushed the dark fabric over her head, revealing herself.

Amrens words ring true when the goddess reveals herself. Her beauty is unique and divine, flawless in the way that makes males fall to their knees.

All the air from Azriels lungs vanished as he stared into those eyes. Years he’d been searching every court, reading countless books on healers and where they originated. Shamelessly making eye contact with each female he met hoping to one day find the mute girl who gave him purpose. To hope one day he could thank her for her kindness to a boy who had nothing.

“I’ve been looking for you.” Azriel exhaled, holding a palm out to Rhys and his brother letting them know ‘he’s got this.’

Your brows furrowed, and your eyes trailed down Azriels body. Trying your hardest to put a face or name to the male in front of you. After years of imagining how seeing you again would be, he didn't put into account the possibility of you not recognizing him. While Azriel admired how much you've grown since he first saw you. Your gaze seemed to pass right through him. And his worst fears were confirmed with a tilt of your head.

You didn’t remember him.

You couldn't recall any detail or encounter that would cause you to remember the male. Instead you focused your gaze on the High Lord. you were here to deliver a message after all.

“High Lord of Night, ready your soldiers, a war is among you.”

Surprise passed through Azriels eyes as he heard you speak. The day he met you your only form of communication was through hand signs. And now your voice is laced with threat, nothing like the gentle girl he met hundreds of years ago. He wonders what had changed.

“And what do you bring to this war?” Rhys expression hardened. He tried to enter your mind to see for himself the truth of your words. Surprised to see your mind vulnerable for all, yet within the space were no visions or memories of your past, but rings of blazing fire encircled a black hole with unknown knowledge within. Rhys had read about minds with black holes. It was a mystery as to what one would find within the hole. Some say time freezes for the observer, how long till it resumes has never been answered. Others say that if you fall into the black hole your mind fails the body and a blazing fire consumes you from the inside out, leaving behind ashes to be carried by the wind.

“I bring Chaos and unrest, Lord of Night it be wise of you to heed my warning because your life will be in my hands.”

Within seconds the afternoon sky turned dark and gray, the loud crack of thunder boomed in the distance and before either of them could reach you, you summoned a strike of lightning; hitting the ground like a whip. The flash was bright as it hit and Rhys witnessed the wards he placed on Velaris crumble. A loud roar was heard throughout Velaris, a deadly creature answering your call. It was then he realized, struggling to push through a small door to get within the protection wards was just for show. And whatever message you needed to deliver, something frightening answered.

Between the flashes of lightning and the echoes of thunder, just beyond the way they saw hundreds and hundreds of waiting soldiers. Looking at your retreating form, Azriel, Cassian and Amren rubbed at their eyes.

Once you reached the front line of fighters you looked over your shoulder, meeting Rhys powerful gaze and with a slight smirk you replaced his wards and removed the illusioned warriors. Leaving Velaris protected as it once was but now the threat of death and destruction looms near, not only to Rhys but everything and everyone he holds dear in Velaris.

Part 2

~ thank you for reading

#azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic #azriel x fem!reader #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #acotar imagine #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #acotar azriel #azriel imagine #acotar fic #azriel fluff

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spacebarbarianweird · 10 months ago

Text

The Dead, the Half-Dead and the Undead

Synopsis: Baby Alethaine is ten and, apparently, the thing she is a dhampir isn't the only problem Astarion and Tiriel have to face.

Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, necromancy

Alethaine's age: 10

Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion immerses himself in one of his books. It is a complex text that has been written by some ancient magic who had probably been completely insane

Necromancy is an interesting subject, but damn difficult for those without an innate aptitude for it.

It's still midday, but out there in the underground part of Daggerlake, it doesn't matter. The city is divided into two parts, above ground and underground. The city is mostly populated

by dwarves, halflings, and humans but for some reason it feels like home for Astarion.

Besides, the town dwellers had decided they'd better have a vampire of their own than be threatened by other undead.

Astarion is still puzzled by this. Yes, these people should be grateful to him and Tiriel for saving them from a particularly nasty fairy pact. But letting them stay? Tiriel, a half-elven warrior, is one thing, but him, a vampire? Do they really want to share the town with him?

But they are fine. They treat him like others would treat some retired wizard or a former mercenary. But he knows he must be careful - one mistake and the neighbors will remember who Astarion truly is and that there is a reason why he never goes to the upper town in the daylight.

And there is a complication Astarion always has to take into account.

“Dad! Dad!”

Astarion looks up and sees ten-year-old Alethaine. She is upside down, but the hem of her dress brushes the ceiling, ignoring gravity. There's a bit of forest dirt on the girl's shoes, and he can distinguish the smell of wood.

“I told you not to go alone,” Astarion says. When she was younger, Astarion often found it difficult to parent her. The moment she asked something or started crying, he was ready to do anything just to make her feel better. It took him time to get a grip and establish boundaries. He is her father. If he wants the best for her, he has to be strict sometimes. Even if the response is tears and anger.

“I didn’t go to the woods! I was in the meadow. It’s still in the town!”

Fair enough. The meadow is a favorite place for town kids since it is indeed the forest but their asses won’t get whooped by their parents.

“So, what is it, princess?”

Alethaine jumps on the floor with a soft “thump” and she inclines toward him making direct eye contact. Astarion still wonders sometimes if her eyes black because his eyes used to be, too, or because of her dhampirism.

Dhampir.

Half-undead. Does Alethaine even understand what it truly means to her? Town kids don’t really care and adore her ability to walk on ceilings and steal sweets for them. But will it last long? She is ten. When she and her friends grow up, they will notice things that make her different. Will they start fearing her the same way town dogs start howling if Alethaine or Astarion pass by? Will they avoid her? Will they force her out of town to go seek her own kind?

“I want a kitten.”

“Princess, last time I checked cats don’t really like us, either.”

Alethaine sits beside him and forces him to close the book. “No, you don’t understand! A week ago, I found a kitten! She didn’t like me at first but I’ve been bringing her food. And today Wyv let me hold her! She doesn’t mind me at all!”

“Wyv?”

“She is albino! She has red eyes and white fur! I think she went missing from her litter. Or maybe her mother's cat forced her to go. Please! Pretty please! She is so tiny, she won’t make it on her own! And I will take care of her!”

Alethaine stares at him with puppy eyes and her elven ears twitch with anticipation.

“Mum won’t mind, she will be happy there is an animal that doesn’t react to me as if I am some evil entity!”

“Princess, there is a very big chance this poor creature will run away once it senses me in the house. Last time I checked I am still undead.”

“And I am half-undead! Wyv got used to me, she will get used to you, too!”

Astarion flicks the tip of her nose. “But if your mother asks, you forced me to say “yes”.

Alethaine squeals and wraps her hands around his neck forcing him to drop the book. Astarion chuckles when he feels the soft prickling of her teeth on his skin.

“I will be right back!” Alethaine rushes outside, slamming the door.

He had 200 years of pure misery and it still hurts him to see how much was taken from him. But then… Thirty years of something else. Something he hadn’t wished to have.

A woman to hold and to love who is brave enough to trust and care.

Fifteen years of adventures, when they could go wherever they wanted and do whatever they desired. Then, they were offered to stay in Daggerlake, a small town near the Unicorn Rim.

Home was a concept unfamiliar to both of them and Tiriel sometimes begged him to return to the road.

But he was adamant. He needed a home. He needed a place to stay. To own. He wanted a place to stash all the artifacts and books they'd found, a comfortable bed to sleep and make love.

Tiriel wanted it, too, though didn’t admit it.

And five years later the thing he’d least expected happened.

He barely remembers how it was - he was so drunk on blood, he felt his undead heart beating. Then he found Tiriel and dragged her home to pin her to the bed.

As a result…

Alethaine.

His daughter. His flesh and blood.

Sometimes he treats Alethaine as a matter of course. Most men in Daggerlake have children, and usually more than one. But sometimes Astarion gets distracted and forgets where he is, and only comes back to reality when Alethaine taps him on the shoulder and then Astarion looks at her in awe, wondering how he even deserves her.

Ten years. Such a tiny piece of time but Alethaine’s whole life. Astarion can already see the woman she is becoming. The woman he will be proud of, the woman who will have the freedom he had to fight for.

Suddenly, Astarion realizes Alethaine has been missing for far too long. The meadow isn’t really far away and it’s already sunset - Astarion feels it.

Astarion locks the house and goes looking for his daughter.

It's already night when he gets to the meadow. Alethaine is there sitting on her knees with her head bowed.

“Alethaine, what did we talk about not being outside after sunset?”

She doesn’t answer. Astarion comes closer and sees that her face is red as if she has just stopped crying.

“Princess, what happened?”

“It’s my fault” she sniffs. “I should have taken her with me right away,” her shoulders tremble and Alethaine bursts into tears once again.

Astarion kneels beside her, not knowing what to do. He still hasn’t learned how to react to her tears properly - so he does the only thing that works all the time with both her and Tiriel and also works for him.

He hugs her.

Through her muffled cries Astarion manages to understand that the albino kitten got out of the shelter and someone kicked her with such effort she died instantly. Now the kitten’s body lies in a small hole in the ground with her mouth wide open and stains of blood on the white fur.

'It's not your fault, it’s the fault of whoever did this, not yours.’

“No, you don’t understand! I could have taken her with me! If you had said “no”, I would have given her to the neighbors! And now she is dead! She is dead because of me!” Now Alethaine almost screams with all the sorrow a ten-year-old girl is capable of.

Astarion hugs his daughter tighter. He often stays with her on his own when Tiriel leaves to do some adventuring job - and usually, Astarion has no trouble. But right now the only thing he needs is for Tiriel to be at home. Because she can find the right words. She always can. Because what exactly does he need to tell Alethaine? It’s the first time she’s witnessed death. And it was the vilest example possible.

An innocent creature was killed for fun.

Well, maybe he should find that person and break their legs. It won’t help but maybe it will make Alethaine feel better.

“Alethaine, let’s go home.”

Alethaine doesn’t answer.

“Princess, come on,” he repeats.

His vampiric senses feel that something is wrong. As if something eerie, and unnatural has started to happen.

Astarion glances at the dead kitten.

Then the kitten moves.

“What in hell…,” he mutters.

It opens its eyes which glow an unnatural green color. The paws twitch, and the mouth opens showing small fangs.

“Dad! Look! Wyv is alive! She was just wounded! And I thought she was dead!” Alethaine exclaims, grabbing the dead kitten. “We need to show her to the healer!”

Alethaine’s eyes glow with the same eerie shade of green.

Necromancy.

Alethaine has just used the “Rise Animal” spell.

A spell so difficult it takes mages years to learn it.

Alethaine drops the dead kitten on the ground as if it were a poisonous snake.

“No… What is wrong with her, Dad?”

The kitten immediately sits up and freezes. Waiting for orders.

“She is dead, isn’t she?” Alethaine sniffs. The kitten doesn't move, staring at her with its resurrected eyes.

Necromancer. If being a dhampir wasn't enough for her. Necromancers have always been outcasts with their abilities to raise the dead and cast the darkest of spells.

Alethaine is one of them. Twice an outcast.

“Alethaine '' Astarion makes her face him. “Listen to me carefully. There must be strings, connecting you with the kitten. Like a puppet doll. You need to cut them.”

“But she will die”

“It is already dead. it’s not a life. Put it to rest.”

Alethaine wipes tears and the weird glowing fades. Alethaine concentrates, looks at her hands, and then makes a movement with her fingers as if she were tearing threads.

The dead kitten falls on the ground like a puppet.

Alethaine sits down tired and exhausted. Resurrecting a creature, even small animals, is a difficult spell requiring much energy even from adult mages. For a ten year old it’s the equivalent of hiking in the mountains.

Astarion takes Alethaine in their hands.

“Dad?”

“Hm?”

“Will you and mum still love me if I am a necromancer?”

“Of course, we will.”

“You can’t get necrotic damage, can you?”

“Well, I am very undead myself. So fear not, you won’t harm me even accidentally”

“And mum? She is mortal, she can get hurt.”

Astarion sighs. Damn, ‘Tiriel should come back sooner, I can’t answer all those questions’.

“You won’t hurt her. Don’t worry.”

Silence. The little dhampir doesn’t believe him. Alethaine sniffs again.

“Did it hurt when you were resurrected?”

Astarion has to make an effort to keep himself composed. It is still traumatic. Still hurts. Two hundred years of pain. Tortures. Isolation. Transformation.

“I am a vampire, not a ghoul. Ghouls don’t feel anything. They are already dead. you resurrected the flesh but Wyv didn’t feel anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. Alethaine, promise me you won't try to practice alone, all right? No one must know you are a necromancer. People won’t understand. ”

The rest of the walk home is passed in silence. That evening Alethaine refuses to eat, and all attempts to cheer her up fail. She's heartbroken and scared, and whatever is weighing on her mind, she just can't process it.

He needs to think something up. The sooner, the better. Before Alethaine harms herself or someone in the town.

Alethaine can't sleep.

It's been a week and she feels terrible. There are whispers on the edge of her mind, dark and frightening, they call to her, they promise her something.

Alethaine can't shut them up.

She sees threads stretching from her fingers to the dead animals. Worse, she feels the threads leading to living people.

Cause them necrotic damage, the darkness whispers. It is going to be fun! Strike fear in them, make them scream, make them cry! And drink their blood if that’s to your liking!

Tiriel didn’t say anything when she heard what had happened. But Alethaine sees uneasiness in her eyes. Of course, she is afraid! There are strings attached to her as well, one or two necrotic spells and she is dead!

Astarion left two days later - he said he would try to look for something. Alethaine cried and begged to take her with him, but he refused.

Alethaine has locked herself in her room, barely leaving. But the silence and solitude are the fuel for nightmares. For the darkness. For tempting whispers.

The little dhampir gets out of her bed and goes to her parents’ bedroom. Tiriel is fast asleep under a blanket. Peaceful and quiet.

Alethaine fumbles at the door. She is ten, not three! She is too old to sleep with her mother. But the thought of spending one more night alone with those whispers feels awful.

“Kitten? Are you alright?”

“Mum… can… I…”

“Come here.”

Alethaine gets under the blanket and her mother’s arms immediately wrap around her.

“I am afraid,” Alethaine finally admits.

“I know, Kitten. Dad will think something up.”

“What if I hurt you while he is away?”

“You won’t”

“How can you know that? I am a necromancer!”

Alethaine turns around to see her mother’s face.

“Alethaine, you are also a dhampir and I don’t remember you ever trying to drain me. And you’ve had your fangs since you were five months old.”

Alethaine relaxes and hugs mother back.

“Mum, did you always know dad was a vampire?”

“Hm, I learned it on the third day I think. Woke up to him trying to bite me. He is lucky I’d already liked him.”

“And you weren’t afraid to be with him?”

“No. Your father was a troubled person, not easy to handle. But he was worth it. I know you are scared. People don’t take it easy when someone can cast dark spells. But it doesn’t mean you have to be alone or be a bad person, even if it’s expected. You will meet people who will accept you for who you are. Who will love you. One of the kindest men I knew was a warlock with a devil pact. Things aren’t always what they seem.”

Your mother’s blood is so warm! You’ve tasted it once, remember? When you were dying of bloodlust! Bite her, take what is rightfully yours!

As if hearing the intrusive thoughts, Tiriel hugs her daughter tighter.

“Whatever happens, we will always be with you. We will help you, we will support you, and no matter what happens, you can always trust us. Even if you do something really bad. ”

Alethaine sniffs and buries her nose in her mother’s neck.

The darkness steps away, and the girl falls asleep.

She doesn’t have nightmares for the first time that week.

“Alethaine,” she feels a soft tap on her shoulder. “Wake up.”

Alethaine opens her eyes and sees she is still in her parents’ bed. Tiriel, fully dressed, stands at the doors.

“Hm?”

“Dad is back. Could you go down to the basement?”

Alethaine, still half asleep, dresses up and goes down. Her senses immediately tell her Astarion isn’t alone.

“Hello, princess,” Astarion strokes her head the moment she gets closer.

A man in a dirty red robe sits on the wooden bench. His head is bald and his right eye is missing. Instead, there is a blue gemstone with intricate runes.

“Astarion, don’t you tell me she is a dhampir.”

“Oh, she very much is! Alethaine, this is Nris. He is going to be your teacher.”

“Astarion, I deeply appreciate you for saving me from that devil but I am not morally ready to teach a dhampir necromancy!”

“I doubt you will be able to pay me. My services are expensive. And I can always sell you back to the devils. I need you to teach my daughter necromancy. End of story.”

“For fuck sake… How old are you?”

Alethaine steps back. “T-ten”

“Fuck, this is the worst age ever! In a year she will hit puberty and it’s bad even without dhampirism and necromancy!”

Alethaine looks at her father.

“Dad, I don't like him.”

“He is a necromancer, princess. People aren’t supposed to like them.”

“Astarion, I knew I shouldn’t have made deals with you! A devil is better than a vampire! At least with devils, I know what to expect! Alethaine, you know what your father did? He took advantage of my desperate situation and forced me to make a pact with him.”

“Nris, don’t be stupid. It’s a working agreement!” Astarion grins. “And I can summon your former master any time, and, I fear, this time he will be harsher on you.”

Nris curses again, and Alethaine makes a note to use one of the slurs next time she gets into a fight.

The necromancer stretches his right hand, covered in weird tattoos. “Come here, Alethaine.”

Nris sends a shiver down her spine, but Astarion only nudges his daughter slightly, forcing her to approach the mage.

“Dhampir, necromancer, and all this with Fey blood. You did pick the wild cards out of Tasha’s cauldron. What exactly did you do to make your father save my ass from the devils?”

“I-I revived a kitten.”

Nris flinches. “I hate sorcerers to my guts! I’ve spent decades learning how to revive small animals - and you did it just like that! But good for you that you didn’t resurrect a human because if you had, the townsfolk would have burnt you alive. I was trying to make the darkness talk to me and it still doesn’t answer back but it calls upon you like an old friend. Life is truly unfair, Alethaine Ancunin.”

Alethaine is silent, unable to stop staring at the gemstone in the eye socket. The runes move resembling trapped flies.

“Very well, let’s start from learning the basics!”

Astarion leaves the basement. When he glances back he sees Alethaine drawing runes on the floor while Nris is giving her the lecture.

Astarion is tired. He didn’t have time to rest during the week, and besides, the worry of leaving a ten-year-old necromancer who didn’t understand how to control her powers alone with Tiriel plagued him like a nightmare.

Nris doesn’t look like the most decent or talented mage but he is bound to him by a pact and doesn’t have any desire to return to the devils. So, he is going to live in the secret basement under their house and teach Alethaine as much as he can.

Wild cards out of Tasha’s dungeon. Yes, that’s true. An unlikely child with dangerous skills.

Astarion finds Tiriel in the inner yard, throwing axes into the wooden wall. He approaches her and hugs them from behind, placing his chin on her shoulder.

“Tired?” she asks.

“Can I take your blood?”

She touches his curls with her tender fingers. “Of course.”

Astarion indulges his fangs in her neck. Blood streams down his throat, calming him down. Tiriel falters. He immediately releases her neck and takes her in his hands to carry Tiriel to the bedroom.

When they get there they lie together on the bed, their fingers intertwined. Due to sharpened hearing Astarion feels a distant echo from the basement. It seems like Alethaine and Nris have started a screaming match.

“You really didn’t warn him, did you?” Tiriel asks, drawing invisible symbols on his back.

“Maybe. Kind of.”

“Well, at least I won’t be the only mortal in the house.”

“Tiriel, don’t make him your drinking pal, I beg you!” Astarion laughs.

“What? A mug of ale after a difficult day hasn't hurt anyone yet.” Tiriel touches the tip of his ear. “Meditate. I will be with you.”

Astarion nods. Thirty years of happy memories are enough to give him bliss. He concentrates and lets the flow of memories take him to reverie.

Astarion holds Alethaine for the first time. A newborn girl is probably still in pain after being pushed into the world. He hears her fast heartbeat as her living heart pumps half-undead blood through her veins.

He cradles her in his arms. Alethaine is so warm, so delicate, so innocent. It’s not yet clear if she is a dhampir but Astarion knows he loves her. It’s a different form of affection, unknown to him. A selfless love for a child, a desire to make sure she won’t endure the same hardships as he did.

And she must not know.

Astarion gives himself a promise. His daughter will never know about his past. it will never taint her. The pain, the touches, the humiliation, the violence - she will not know a word of it.

Her mindset will be free of that dirt and of that darkness. He won’t pass it.

“Thank you, my love,” Astarion whispers. “This is a gift.”

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume

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toxycodone · 4 months ago

Note

genital headcannons for :

Falin

Laios

Chilchuck

Toshiro

Namari

Venery

Thistle

Falin definitely has a penis, I think hers is probably the biggest out of Laios' party? Namari definitely packs, I would let her peg me for hours omg..... she could ruin me. Ermmm.. Chilchuck probably has a big cock for a halfling, he's fucking TALL !!!! bro has to be packing something. Also shaved or not shaved... Namari body hair everywhere OMG I need her to shove my face into her bush I need to smell her. Sorry I'm being a little too straight (? I am a man but this feels gay idk) ... anyway chil, Namari, and Falin are unshaved, full bush down there. I feel like Toshiro at his best keeps everything trimmed !! but when he can't even shave his face when he's at his lowest... bro wouldn't have the energy to take care of it. Hmm and then Laios could be either way..?? We know he shaves his face and keeps his hair short bc he doesn't wanna look like his dad, but would he even think of shaving his pubes????? Idk. Wait is this a weird thing to think about? Oh wait do elves grow body hair??? I feel like thistle would have some body hair if it's possible, I feel like they can't... unless my DND 5e knowledge is getting mixed with uhmmm. What is it called... DUNGEON MESHI I think I'm starting to dissociate I'm going to stop typing lmfao

FALIN - GIRLCOCK. Whether you are a trans!Falin fan or what, in my eyes after the red dragon thing. She gets girl cock. I can see this as either like, a penis or like T-dick. Whatever you decide. But whatever it is her situation is definitely unique. Also she got a bush frfr

Laios - COCK. (I am also a trans!Laios fan so like. He can have anything in his pants it don’t matter imma eat it but usually when I write him it’s cock). His dick is as painfully average as he is. Not crazy length wise but he got some girth to it. I’m thinking like. 5 inches frfr. Maybe 6 but that’s generous imo. No manscaping just vibes he’s full bush down there. And body hair on his chest/legs/arms and around his groin

Chilchuck - OKAY. His dick is probably like more similar to an average tallman penis. Which is remarkable considering he’s like half their size. I’m gonna give him four inches and he’s breaking other halflings in half with it but with other races. He’s learned how to use it. Chilchuck is a real one. Light on body hair, but would keep it tidy when he’s not in the dungeon (I think he likes to manscape and like. Appreciate himself in the mirror lol)

Toshiro - He is ALL length and so embarrassed about it. (Def afraid he’s gonna hurt you.) He could learn to love it with a supportive partner though. I think for a while he’s rocking bush because like, yknow. That stuff isn’t really talked about…but he figured it out for himself that when he takes his time and shaves and stuff after a anything or whatever he’ll do some trimming down there because he likes the neatness. I like to think he grows body hair but it’s not super dark for some reason (besides on his face people get jealous at the beard he can grow)

Namari - SHE IS JUST LIKE ME I GET HER VIBE SO WHAT IM SAYING HERE IS CANON: SHE HAS CRAZY PUSS BUT IS ALWAYS ROCKING THE STRAP. Namari doesn’t let anyone fuck her hole unless they’re in a committed relationship (she does not play about that either if you insert anything in her sex is over). Insane with the strap too. She’s someone I can genuinely see breaking the bed with her strokes. Also she’s got body hair for days. Like other Dwarf women she can grow a beard too but she usually shaves. (Namari with stubble…I’m bout to go feral.)

Venery - Started off with a human vagina. Now it’s some weird mix between that + hyena + dragon cock. I think he’s canonically intersex due to the ancient magic. But he’s happy about it. Also UHHHHHH…..HE LAYS EGGS. JS.

Thistle - Okay Thistle is so trans to me I think he gives himself top surgery when he’s getting older with ancient magic. He leaves the downstairs area alone because he’s fine with just presenting masc that’s good enough for him. Very low body hair he just sits in the middle of gender ambiguous for REAL.

#dungeon meshi #laios touden #namari #toshiro nakamoto #falin touden #chilchuck tims #x reader #delicious in dungeon #suck my ask

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ephemerasnape · 5 months ago

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I couldn't sleep, so have a dark, smutty one-shot.

Dawn of Regret 🔞

Poacher Executioner x You/MC

“Ye wanted to seduce a dark wizard,” the Executioner purrs, running his tongue across your lips. “Well, haha, it worked!” RAPE

Rape / Seduction / Teasing / Age Difference / Size Difference / First Time / Loss of Virginity / Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Read below the cut or on ao3.

Ends up the great ancient magic-wielding Hogwarts student ain’t so hot without her wand.

Your mind races with regrets as you ponder the situation you find yourself in. How could I have been so stupid? In the end, a simple Expelliarmus was all it took to have you groveling in the dirt before the dark wizards in the poacher camp you’d been raiding.

You’d been readily captured, your wand snapped in front of your horrified eyes, and taken, well, to bed with one of them. The very thought sends shudders through your body.

You haven't gotten a wink of sleep the entire night, and can already see the sun begin to creep into the tent where you are being held. Being held very closely, one might add. As you'd laid on the uncomfortable cot for the past many hours, your wrists secured tightly behind your back, and your torso further secured around that of a massive Executioner, you’d done little but think of ways you might escape.

Finally, the Executioner shifts in his sleep, giving you the opportunity you’ve been waiting for - his warm body wrapping even more fully around yours. What is on-its-face repulsive gives you a fleeting hope - you are aware that getting out of this situation will involve trickery more than stealth given the nature of the predicament you’re in – and thus your brilliant plan is hatched.

One of the Executioner’s hands is laid on the cot right in front of your nose. You look at it, wondering how dirty it is. It looks surprisingly clean but the guy overall strongly resembles a caveman. Half beast himself.. And you can’t imagine his hygiene is the best. It certainly doesn’t smell the best, although his muskiness does hold a certain masculine appeal, you are loathe to admit.

With a slight grimace, you crane your head forward slightly, tentatively sticking your tongue out and pressing it against his pointer finger. There’s no response. Screwing your eyes shut, you move your tongue slowly up over the length of the finger. It takes several swipes of your tongue to elicit any reaction, but you do feel the Executioner – you believe his name is Mortimus – twitch slightly in his sleep.

Gaining confidence, you move your head a fraction of an inch forward, so that you’re able to engulf his entire finger in your mouth. The massive wizard grunts behind you, and you become even bolder, beginning to suck diligently on his digits.

He begins to stir, and you wonder whether he’s waking up. You can certainly feel something waking up right against your buttocks.

This could actually work…

You swirl your soft pink tongue around his finger, up and down, and alternate with suction, getting so lost in your task you don’t even really notice when the Executioner begins to wake. He gradually pulls you more tightly against him, his breathing raspy behind your ear. You keep sucking on his finger until he decisively drags your hips back towards him, bringing you into direct contact with what feels like an absolute battering-ram of an erection.

“Crupmite,” he growls, fully-awake now, he props himself up a bit on one elbow so that he can watch as he begins to gently thrust his finger in and out your pouted lips.

“Tryin’ to get a wizard all worked up, eh?”

You flush furiously but don’t otherwise react as he finger-fucks your mouth – feeling a bit paralyzed in fear or anticipation.

“Certainly givin’ me... ideas…”

You’d thought, well – you’d hoped that if you could distract him, get him to untie you.. Maybe let his guard down… You might have a chance of making it past the apparition wards around the tent.

But now, in the moment, with him gazing down at you, you wish ardently that you’d waited for another opportunity. You can literally feel the lust emanating off of the wizard – his eyes seemingly boring into your skin as your face burns with humiliation.

Until now, he’d just seen you as a pesky little brat that he had to deal with. Now he sees you as a pesky little witch who is in his bed.

And you see him – sort of. From what you can see from the corner of your eye, he’s apparently taken off his mask at some point, and a ruggedly-handsome face is exposed. Masculine for sure. Not young, not old. Relatively normal-looking for a professional killer. You struggle to make out the details and nervously your eyes dart up towards him just in time to watch a grin spread across his face.

“Seems ye might be good fer somethin’ after all, crupmite,” he gloats, withdrawing his finger from your mouth – a trail of saliva following it. He runs his wet finger gently across your lips, sending a shiver down your spine which settles between your legs.

When he begins to untie the ropes around your waist, your heart is pounding so furiously that you nearly forget your plan, but the man seemingly has you figured. “Thought ye could trick me, eh?” he teases, his broad hands never leaving your body for even a moment. “I might look like a lumbering oaf, but I’m not actually daft.”

He keeps a firm grip on your robes as he maneuvers himself so that he’s facing you on the cot. Even seated he towers over your small form.

“I’m sorry, crupmite. Ye don’t get to suck my cock today. Nuffink personal, it’s just that it’s too risky. But that doesn’t mean we can’t ‘ave our fun.”

Your face goes white. “What do you…”

Suddenly, you’re pushed onto your back, the man pinning your upper arms down to the cot as he leans over you, leering at you with a menacing expression on his face.

“Ah! Please.. my wrists!” you cry, struggling in vain to get the pressure off of them.

“Thought I’d untie ye so ye could escape, did ya?” he chuckles darkly. “Not likely.”

And so he doesn’t untie you, but even Mortimus has to admit that having your hands behind you, contorting your chest upwards in that position, is not ideal, and so instead he wraps some ropes – not by magic, but, surprisingly, by hand – around your middle, securing your arms to your sides instead before he releases them from behind your back.

You sigh in relief at the removal of the crushing weight from your delicate wrists, only to realize moments later you are still in immediate danger.

What have I gotten myself into?

The enormous man moves forward then, licking your cheek with a broad tongue. You turn away, your face scrunched up in disgust, only to have it forcibly turned back towards him.

“Ye wanted to seduce a dark wizard,” the Executioner purrs, running his tongue across your lips. “Well, haha, it worked!”

He’s fully on you then – his tongue down your throat, causing you to squeal and squirm as he thrusts the organ in and out of your mouth possessively, and you know that it’s a promise of things to come.

Your mouth occupied, Mortimus reaches down to effortlessly part your thighs despite your pathetic attempts to keep them closed. Without a fraction of a doubt remaining in regard to what is about to happen, you scream into his mouth, and move to bite down on his tongue, only to find that he’s anticipated the action and withdrawn in time.

“Ah-ah,” he admonishes, wagging a finger above your face. “There’ll be none of that. After all, I’m on orders to turn you in to Rookwood alive, an’ if you bite me, all bets are off.”

Your desperation boils over. “Please, sir,” you whimper, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Don’t do this. I’ve never… I’m-”

You can’t make eye contact and you certainly can’t finish your sentence. You just lay there, your face beet red - helpless, exposed, and at the mercy of a dark wizard...

A dark wizard who laughs at your misery and humiliation.

“Mmmm… Tha’s perfect,” Mortimus growls, stroking over your chest and stomach, squeezing where he pleases. “So I’ll be yer first…” He yanks down his trousers then, causing you to begin crying in earnest.

This is going to happen...

“No.. No!”

The Executioner smiles maliciously down at you as he leans back just enough for you to be able to watch him fisting his massive erection.

“An’ there’s no guarantee you’ll ever be able to take another cock after this one.”

You scream as the man presses you down with one arm, using the hand to easily cover your mouth – half-blocking your nose, causing you further distress as your breathing is partially obstructed.

You kick and writhe to get away, desperately trying to protect the sensitive area between your legs. No one has ever touched or even seen you down there before, and to have this man be the first is just unthinkable.. but your struggles are to no avail – the Executioner is too strong, and before you know it, a firm, blunt object is pressing up against your vulnerable opening.

“Your mouth says no,” Mortimus chuckles, running the head of his cock up and down your wet slit, “but your cunt says yes.”

He keeps your mouth covered, stifling your pleas and cries as he forces himself into you. Although you realize he’s probably going a lot more slowly than is physically necessary, the sheer size of his penis splitting you open devastates your maidenhood, sending an intense pain coursing through you.

You are bawling as the man on top of you groans, having broken through your virgin barrier and fully-embedded himself inside your tight passage.

“Merlin…”

The pain is overtaken by humiliation and as your cries turn to quiet sobs, the Executioner begins to move. He’s so tall and broad that you can only see the buttons and rough hand-stitching on his vest – his face seems miles away while he's joined to you at the hip.

When you’ve quieted sufficiently, Mortimus removes his hand from your mouth and instead places it on your knee to keep you spread wide.

“Such a tight little- Fuck,” he gasps, his cock pistoning in and out of you in earnest. His heavy breathing consumes your world as you silently pray for him to finish quickly - for this ordeal to be over.

The Executioner pounds you relentlessly, pulling your body up slightly to get better access – deeper in your cunt – his thick meat battering your cervix.

“Not what ye ‘oped would come of that little stunt, I wager,” he breathes, smashing his wide pelvis into your comparatively tiny one over and over again in rough, forceful movements.

Your tears wet the pelts underneath your head just as you can imagine your blood does your skirts, but you"re crying not so much from physical pain as from despair as you’re violated by this colossal wizard and his colossal prick.

And, all the worse, it was almost entirely your doing.

Seconds later, the Executioner stiffens and a bestial groan of pleasure fills the tent. His imposing form jerks against yours as his release floods your womb.

No…

He collapses onto you then, panting into your ear. As he comes out of his lust-filled haze, he notices your soft whimpers and sobs. To your utter surprise, the man presses a kiss to the side of your face.

“Now, now, sweetheart,” he offers, petting your damp hair in a soothing gesture that you can’t be sure isn’t mockery before he continues as if having read your very thoughts. “’Twas yer own idea, after all.”

#mortimus ackerley #poacher executioner #hogwarts legacy smut #dark wizards #ashwinders #poachers #rookwood gang #tw rape #tw noncon #cw rape #cw noncon #my fics #my polls #insomnia

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decaffeinatedpartymuggoop · 7 months ago

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Okay, we all know being a demigod is a shit position. Its scary and gets you killed in really nasty ways. But I feel like being a Big Three Kid has to be the shitiest position in all the shit positions.

Like, imagine being Thalia Grace. Your dad is king of the gods, lord of the skies. Led a war to get rid of a tyrant. And the only thing you get is his scorned wife AND brother, who both try to kill you (with one technically succeeding), a drunk of a mother, and brother who you thought was dead. Oh, wait, he’s not dead! No instead he was used as an offering to appease your dad’s wife and help fight in a war and prevent mass destruction.

Or maybe you can imagine being Percy. Son of the sea god, the stormbringer, the earthshaker. You get to live with a disgusting, abusive man for around 6 years. Who smells like literal shit. All because your scent as a demigod is too strong, BECAUSE of who your father is. You see things that you aren’t supposed to see and do things that people can’t do and go years thinking something is wrong with you. That your the problem. Then you get to the one place where you’re supposed to be save. But! Here is the kicker! You’re not! Your uncles hate you and you’ve been accused of stealing a symbol of power. A series of events that will kick off a war, and guess what. You’re a center point for it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.

Mhm, but then there’s Hazel. Daughter Pluto, god of the underworld and riches. But that doesn’t really change anything does it? She’s still living in 1930s America, in a red state. One where confederate flags still hang if you go deep enough into the city. She go to a school where the kids are supposed to be just like her! They still don’t like her tho. She’s got no idea who your father is, only that he left her with a parting gift. Only it’s not really a gift. Sure, she can pull rubies and diamonds from the earth, all worth millions. But anyone who’s ever gonna touch it will die. She lives with her mother, a woman gone so mad with greed it kills her. And Hazel, by the way. Laying dead Alaska, inhaling oil. But it doesn’t end there! She can’t have her mother suffering for eternity, can she? The answer is no. Hazel gets to spend the next 70 years in the Fields of Asphodel. It still doesn’t end! Because when she’s brought back to life, she gets to fight in a war against giants, her sad story seemingly never ending.

Nico’s a son of one of the Big Three, one of the most ancient and most powerful. But most people look at him as something bad, something not worth taking a second glance at. Something too look away from, mostly. He’s from the 30s, spent years in a magical time casino with only his sister at his side. She doesn’t stay for long though, she dies soon after they discover their heritage. And he doesn’t remember his mother much, a name without a face. A face without a name. He survived an attempted assassination at 2, though it wouldn’t be the only time his was life was threatened. He clings to his sister, even though she’s dead. He’s the son of the god of the underworld, is he not? There had to be a way, and there is. Only she won’t talk to him, she seems more concerned with communicating with the guy who got her killed instead. She chooses rebirth, and he decides to lay it to rest. She’s not coming back, and he has a war to fight in. (He gets stuck in a jar and forcibly outed a few years later, but that’s a lot to get into for now.)

Jason Grace is a pillar of New Rome, their golden boy, their American boy. He’s a son of Jupiter, a natural born leader. He’s been at camp for as long as he can remember, he wants to be praetor soon. He’s had a rocky start, but maybe he’ll be one of the lucky ones. Retire a veteran and live a long life with Reyna in New Rome. Only that never happened. He has no idea where he is, there’s a girl holding his hand, and she’s cute but it feels wrong. They get attacked and people come in and call him a Greek demigod, familiar, yes, but still wrong. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t put things into perspective the way it does for Piper and Leo. He’s goes to a quest to rescue Hera, the name sounds wrong. He nearly dies but at least he remembers who he is. He spends the next 6 months trying to get back home, even though he isn’t too sure on where or what home is. He gets there, eventually, but it doesn’t stop there. He’s dragged on quests and battles and fights in the war but at least he survives it, he’s still there. Apollo needs help, he and Piper give him aid. He gets dumped. He doesn’t get to he a veteran in New Rome. Not with Reyna, not with Piper, not with anybody. He doesn’t get kids or grandkids. No, he gets shot down, another demigod buried.

You could be any one of them, really. Pick your poison, but I guarantee you won’t like any of them. Spending years trying to find a place where you belong, where you feel safe. Only for it to never come.

Percy, who, if you really look at the books, isn’t really all that well liked until he’s at least 2 years into camp. Only to then be sidelined because the courages, brave, fearless daughter of Zeus is back from the dead. Nico, the son of one of the most feared and hated gods. Who has death written all over him, who excludes it so much animals can smell it and humans can sense it, who’s been ostracized and pushed off to the side since he was 10. Hazel, who was treated like disease as soon as she stepped foot on camp soil. Who’s gone her whole life looked as something that’s cursed, that will only bring misfortune, a bad omen.

Shit positions, all of them.

#Hazel and Jason make my head spin #also jaosn and Percy #I like how they both in a way didn’t want glory or to be some hero #i don’t think Jason mentions it much but they kids and grandkids mention in BOO is very telling #Percy’s is from the musical but whatever we all know the musical is canon #and show Percy thinking something is wrong with him and that he needs a mental evaluation of some kind is #everything #I’m making that canon now #I’d love to get a Thalia book #a trilogy maybe #first book is her with her mom and Jason + Luke and Annabeth on the run #ending with her dying #2nd book takes place after her resurrection and during the the war #final book is life with the hunters #and how she found peace in a world designed for her to struggle #I feel like out of all of them big three kids she’s the only one who got her happy ending #and in the fandom the hunters have gotten the reputation of being where Rick puts characters that can’t be shipped with anyone #but I really don’t think it’s the case with her #she’s also one of the only demigods where I think her story has come to a close #like it’s done #Percy’s story is almost done too #Nico and Hazel I feel aren’t quite there yet #percy jackson #thalia grace #hazel levesque #jason grace #nico di angelo #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians

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hogwartslegacyreactions2 · 7 months ago

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biased as always, the number one Anne Stan, ofc i gotta christen this returned account with my girl <3

hlc react to mc developing a crush on anne? from the consistent visits to feldcroft to the occasional outing that mc can take her on, it’s obvious they’re growing to be a little more than friends…

A/N: Anne Sallow simping content coming right up lol

HLC REACT TO MC CRUSHING ON ANNE SALLOW

It all started the day Sebastian introduced MC to her. Even with her tired eyes, they were enraptured by her sweet voice and good nature despite being in such pain. Even if Anne was convinced there was no real help for her, MC was determined to make life just a bit more enjoyable.

At first, It was letters with little gifts. Those turned into visits without Sebastian tailing them. Eventually, sneaking Anne out of the house for some "fresh air." Even without Sebastian around, her uncle was rather unpleasant. Always hovering, to the point of being overbearing.

Their most memorable date outing by far has to have been when MC offered to fly her up the hill on their broom to overlook Feldcroft. She sat sidesaddle on the handle in front of MC and she held on to them as they gently glided up into the air. MC struggled to focus on where they were going having her so close.

So close in fact, that if MC hadn't been so distracted, maybe they would have heard the faint but distinctive whisper of ancient magic coming from the scar on her side.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He gets suspicious when MC starts asking too many Anne centric questions. Then he gets REAL suspicious when he walked in on MC and Anne playing wizard's chess. He hadn't announced that he was going, so he was shocked to see MC with his sister alone.

Protective Brother™ mode activated. What were they playing at? His sister had enough to deal with right now, she didn't need MC drooling all over her. He doesn't fall for any of MC's excuses, no one visits Anne more than he does, not even her old school friends. There was no way MC's intentions were "just being friendly".

He keeps an eagle eye out for MC. If he can't find them anywhere, he goes straight to Feldcroft to break up the fraternizing. Anne will have to tell him off multiple times.

OMINIS GAUNT: He doesn't know this is going on until Anne casually mentions it in her letters. This....he struggles with this. Anne is very special to him. They'd been close since first year, she was one of his first and few friends and now she...she seems so...taken by MC.

He wrestles with his own pride and self loathing. He should have said something sooner. He should have told her how much he....it didn't matter now. MC was braver. She doesn't deserve a coward like him anyway. He's happy she's happy. That's all that matters...right?

IMELDA REYES: She knew Anne. They were on the Slytherin quidditch team together before Anne fell ill. She reads about Anne and MC in letters and snorts. She advises Anne to not be so quick to admire MC, they aren't that amazing.

NATSAI ONAI: She finds it absolutely adorable. MC always thinks of Anne, constantly asking her if Anne will like what they've found or bought. Even asks for advice, not that she knows much about relationships, but she tries her best.

GARRETH WEASLEY: He gets nosey, seeing MC almost always nose deep in a letter that smells floral with a touch of birch. He'll poke fun that they're infatuated with their special pen pal and not so subtly imply that he has the perfect potion in mind if they want to speed things along. *Wink*

LEANDER PREWETT: Anne who? Sebastian's sister? Pfffft, good luck with that. Sebastian is a bulldog when it comes to family. Very protective, almost possessive.

AMIT THAKKAR: He first realizes that MC is acting strange when they started daydreaming heavily in class. Even in the more interesting classes. What's got them all starry-eyed and distracted from learning? ....he should have known. A girl.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He hears about it second hand from someone else who heard MC and Sebastian going at it over MC seeing Anne without supervision. Rumors spread like wildfire, especially when the arguably most interesting person at Hogwarts apparently developed a crush on Sallow's sister and was sneaking around with her. Made for very juicy gossip.

POPPY SWEETING: She hears about it through the rumor mill as well and tells MC to fly in on a hippogriff next time. That always impresses the ladies, trust her on this.

ANNE SALLOW: MC brought some color back into her life. They wanted to know all about her, they showered her with gifts, and would come to see her even without reason. She caught on fast that MC fancied her and she had fun playing coy.

Oh, MC wants to know what she likes for her birthday? What an odd, totally random question. MC has been staring at her for the last five minutes, not realizing she's stopped talking, how interesting. She loved pointing out MC's blatantly odd behavior and watching them fluster within an inch of their life. It's the Slytherin in her, she thinks it's funny.

When MC starts asking for more private outings, that's when she really starts to feel special. MC was willing to accommodate her in any way she needed. If she grew exhausted from a walk, they would carry her back. If she was having a particularly rough day with the curse, they'd tend to her hand and a foot, almost fussing as much as Sebastian. Almost.

The time MC flew her up the hill to the lookout, she felt herself falling, in the figurative sense. MC may have fallen for her first, but she fell harder. Holding on to them as they flew, she couldn't take her eyes off their face. She almost kissed them. She didn't, however, miss the fact that her scar hurt a lot less that day.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #hl #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #imelda reyes #natsai onai #garreth weasley #leander prewett #amit thakkar #everett clopton

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once-in-a-blood-moon · 7 months ago

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AHH THEYRE OPEN!!! EEEEE

Could I request for your 🌹valentines event🌹 the prompt voice with Solomon with a GN MC? He’s heard their voice for a long time giving him encouragement and praise but he’s long since given up actually meeting them. They meet during the exchange program and he immediately recognizes their voice.

I’ve never heard of the soulmate voice scenario before so I’m realty looking forward to how you pull it all together! I love your works and am really excited for this event! Thank you so much for sharing your writing!💖💖💖💖💖

Solomon - Voice

Solomon x GN! reader

Prompt: The voice in their head is their soulmate’s voice

AN: Hi Ivy!! Thank you for your sweet words, I'm really glad you like what I do! 💕 I'm so sorry about the wait on this request, but I suppose better late than never! I really got in a groove writing this, and uh...it's a little more hurt/comfort than I expected it to be, so I hope that's okay. Thank you for being patient and I hope you enjoy! 😊

Warnings: Slight hurt/comfort, mimics how you meet Solomon in the OG but diverges a tad.

The cool night air whipped through Solomon’s hair gently as he leaned out of the open window. His eyes had grown tired from hours of combing through the weathered pages of an ancient tome he’d miraculously gotten his hands on, so he decided to take a small break to rest them. The sooner he did that, the quicker he’d be back at his desk furiously devouring the magical literature the book had to offer.

Bleary eyes flicked lazily across the landscape of the soft city nightlife beyond his walls. He’s not in the thick of it, but sometimes he listens just to feel included. The distant sounds of horns honking, the gentle clicks of heels on the street below him as two friends pass by with gossip juggled between them, even smelling the cheap, greasy pizza from one of the restaurants nearby. It’s all something that eludes him. Like an inside joke he’s not allowed in on…

“I hope you’re doing okay…”

Solomon perks upon hearing the soft, almost solemn voice in his head. It had started just a few short decades ago, popping up occasionally to say hello or to spout some words of encouragement. He was aware he was hearing the voice of his soulmate, but it seemed hard for him to let go of his reservations and interact with them. He knew it would never last, and he’d never meet them. So, he keeps his mind quiet like he always does, not wanting to give them false hope.

And it seemed he was disappointing them further by not responding yet again, hearing their soft sigh before speaking again.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re even there. Maybe I’m talking to nobody...”

He wishes you were – or at least someone that wasn’t him.

“But it’s almost as if I can feel your presence. You exist. I know it.”

Oh, he exists, alright. Longer than he thinks you could ever fathom. How the universe could’ve paired such a patient soul to his jaded one is a mystery to him. It’s curious how you’re able to sense him too. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you had some magical prowess as well – however small that may be.

“Are you looking at the same moon I am? It’s so bright and beautiful tonight… A full moon.”

The sorcerer’s ancient eyes slowly move to the moon hanging above the city, where the skyscrapers seem to just brush its surface. It’s the same moon he’s looked at for centuries, the one thing that’s stayed constant in his eternal life. Tonight’s moon seems to glow a hair brighter than usual. Perhaps it’s a super moon just playing with his perception. Either way, he basks in her maternal essence all the same.

It grows quiet in his mind and Solomon assumes his soulmate is lost in the moment, just as he is. Whether it’s due to the moon’s company illuminating his figure perched on the windowsill or because of the presence that has wriggled their way into his thoughts, he doesn’t feel as alone tonight.

The minutes drag on with nothing more from his soulmate, so he takes this as a sign his break is over. With a long, drawn out sigh, he pushes himself off the windowsill before shutting the window and pulling the curtains closed. He takes slow strides back to his desk, stretching his back muscles before he inevitably hunches over the tome until his body gives out to exhaustion. The old, rickety chair creaks beneath him as the hard wood already begins to gnaw away at his bum. Though he pays no mind to the mild pain as he aims to jump right back into the marked pages he’d left open on his desk.

“Take care of yourself.”

It’s the last thing he hears right before his eager eyes can reach a word on either of the sprawled out pages. That gentle reminder causes his heart to ache in guilt knowing he should do better to take care of himself, yet...he’s too consumed with his life’s work to try harder. With a slight shake of his head to rid himself of those feelings, he plunges right back into the mystical tome.

The halls of RAD bustle with first-day gossip shared between demon cliques about the newly implemented exchange program and the exchange students that came with it.

Solomon, who keeps to himself against one of the walls to blend in with the crowd, hears the names of his angelic dorm mates, as well as his own, bouncing around as if it were a game of Hot Potato. It’s the typical fare of “that sorcerer, Solomon, is one of the exchange students this year” and “watch out for that guy, you know he’s a bit of a shady fellow.” Every other word that’s been tacked onto his persona is spit out with a venomous hiss.

Powerful. Shady. No good. Hardly human. Sorcerer... Solomon, Solomon, Solomon.

He’s heard them so many times he’s started to believe there might be merit behind the sentiments.

Beyond that, he’s also heard a few rumors about the second human exchange student. Due to the quickly buzzing word, the clever sorcerer had already caught wind of their name and a few other interesting details, like how Mammon had been appointed as the “human babysitter.” Solomon couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he’d first heard that. Mammon as a babysitter of anything, let alone a fellow human… That’s rich.

“I should run…”

Solomon’s brow raises sharply, almost instantly, upon hearing that phrase in his head. What an odd thing for his soulmate to say. They hadn’t spoken much to him in the past few weeks, apart from some nerves about something they never fully divulged to him, but for this to be the first thing in a while is concerning to say the least. It may not even be a conscious effort as the panic of the voice in his head is quite obvious.

“That’s what Mammon said to do…”

Mammon? How does this person…

It’s then that Solomon notices a timid looking human in the middle of the hall, their eyes casting side to side as a few groups of demons seem to eye them dangerously. The sorcerer’s feet move faster than his thoughts and he’s suddenly in front of the human with a friendly grin on his lips.

“Hey, you there.”

He watches you startle at his sudden appearance, your phone slipping through your fingers and clattering on the floor as you just stare at him with anxiety practically radiating off you. It seems you’re opting for the freeze response from how on edge you are around him. He automatically feels guilty for scaring you so terribly, but he understands why.

Slowly, as to not spook you further, he crouches down to pick up your phone, doing a quick check to make sure it’s not damaged as he rises back to his normal height.

“This belongs to you. I saw you drop it just now,” he hands it out to you, chuckling as he does. “You should be lucky it didn’t crack.”

He watches you glance down to his outstretched hand before slowly taking your phone from him. Your fingers brush lightly against his, sending a chill up his spine. For it being such a minuscule touch, it felt so natural.

A small appreciative smile eases your frightened features. Though he can tell you’re still tentative. “Thank you.”

Solomon’s heart skips a beat as he recognizes the voice instantly. He stills momentarily, though not enough to seem like he’d lost composure...but internally, he was flustered. The previous phrases he’d heard in his head suddenly made sense now. Before he gets completely ahead of himself, he decides to converse with you further to confirm his suspicions.

“My name’s Solomon. I’m an exchange student from the human world, just like you.”

Your fears instantly seem to vanish upon learning that he’s not one of the demons wanting to cause you harm. “Ah, well, that’s a relief then. It’s nice to meet you.”

You give a quick introduction of yourself as well. The name he’d heard whispered among others earlier rolled off your tongue in the same kind voice he’s had in his head for decades. It doesn’t seem you realize the situation yet, but how could you? He never spoke to you… You didn’t know what he sounded like. If he had known meeting you wasn’t a slim to none chance, maybe he would’ve asked how your day was, reminded you to hydrate or study, or just said hi.

The sorcerer makes his mind up pretty quickly – he’d make it up to you once he reveals the true nature of your special connection.

Even now, he’s realizing you’re more than just a stranger to him. You were the kind words he couldn’t give himself, the reasoning he was blind to, and the connection he thought was best to deny.

You were the sound he was lonely without.

#valentine's soulmate event #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #jo writes

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monstersdownthepath · 28 days ago

Text

Herald of Lissala: Kurshu the Undying

CR 15

Lawful Evil Large Outsider

Adventure Path: Shattered Star: Into the Nightmare Rift, pg. 88-89

"Lissala?" I hear some of you ask in confusion, "who's Lissala? I've never heard of her!" And as I turn from the chalkboard to explain, the unfortunate who asked is teleported before the decrepit and mummified Kurshu to receive a fate worse than any I could bestow: an in-depth history lesson of an empire which survived for thousands of years before being struck down by an apocalypse. I speak, of course, of ancient Thassilon--the very same empire ruled by the archmages known as the Runelords--of which Lissala was the chief deity. When Thassilon was destroyed by Earthfall, so too was Lissala's faith, an organization of millions reduced to a fraction of its glory in mere moments, which inevitably dwindled until basically nothing was left. Lissala was not killed by this event (though many believe she was), but faded into total obscurity on Golarion, leaving behind countless markers upon history and a great many of her divine creations, Kurshu included.

Even in the modern day, there are very few beings in existence who even know about Lissala, let alone worship her, but nevertheless there are some who still fervently hold onto their faith that she may one day return, chief among them Kurshu herself and the Rune Giants who remain slavishly devoted to both Lissala and the dwindling Runelords. Now and then a true Cleric of Lissala will rise up and show actual divine power, but it's a coin flip as to whether they've truly forged a connection with the lost Thassilonian deity or are being deceived by some other entity... and if they ARE, then they have Hell to pay when Kurshu tracks them down to investigate.

Having spent many thousands of years wandering Golarion and the Great Beyond in the hopes of finding traces of Lissala's presence to soothe her (which the book hearbreakingly describes as "similar to a widower smelling his dead wife's clothes in the hopes of sparking a lost memory"), Kurshu has grown to possess a paradoxical resentment for her deity and creator for abandoning her to wallow among the filth and ruin left in the wake of Thassilon's fall. Though she remains devoted, this devotion is described in a way that almost feels like a drug addiction than a true bond, with every part of Kurshu screaming for any sign of her goddess even while she's is painfully aware of how pitiful it's making her and how much she desires to simply stop and find something else. She hates Lissala. She loves Lissala. She resents her, and yet is fully aware she would gladly crawl back into her master's lap if it meant never again feeling the longing she does now. She is pitiful, but she despises the idea of being pitied. Do not bring up how relieved she looks when a Cleric of Lissala shows true promise, or when she finds some artifact or place which resonates with the power of the lost goddess.

While many Heralds possess duties they're expected to perform, Kurshu is a free agent, able to pursue her own goals. These goals continuously revolve around Lissala and Thassilon, but she is free to pursue them with her endless time, pausing only occasionally for a snack break, but we'll get to THAT in a moment. Unlike other Heralds, Kurshu has no goddess to direct her and is free to respond to the summons or prayers of ANY being that invokes her regardless of alignment should see use in it. She is also able to track down anyone wishing to learn more of Thassilon and its rune magic to teach them, and can actually replace the target of a Greater Planar Ally spell being cast by a Lawful Evil-aligned caster if they're not careful in how they word their requests for knowledge. Guarded by her own obscurity, most beings don't know just who or what they're dealing with until it's far too late, and she's seized control of them. But what will she do once she has someone on a leash? Let's find out...

Kurshu has two primary motivations in any encounter: survive first, and locate more Thassalonian lore after. To aid in her survival, she often has a menagerie of Outsiders of varying alignments and strengths at her beck and call, a small army she is prompted to stock with subject hovering between CR 8 and 10 due to her horrific hunger. You see, without Lissala's divine power flowing into her, Kurshu suffers from Divine Separation, an affliction which imposes 1 negative level every day she goes without devouring the corpse of an Outsider (including Native Outsiders; tieflings and aasimar beware!), which often means that--if she's trying to be economical with her livestock--she's encountered with anywhere between 2 and 6 negative levels to sap her otherwise potent skills.

Further confounding the issue is the fact that she refuses to consume Lawful Evil Outsiders on principal (but will if she's desperate), AND that in order to alleviate her hunger, the consumed victim must have at least 8 Hit Dice; she cannot simply feed upon Quasits to stave off her decay, she must at the very least be slaying creatures like Succubi, Choral Angels, and Pelagastr, creatures which can actually fight back against her. Every HD from a consumed Outsider instantly removes an equal number of negative levels, meaning she can "waste" her food by eating Outsiders with too many HD, something she's painfully aware of and which can often cause her to wait a little longer than advisable between feedings, weakening her if her enemies are trying to hunt her down. Similarly, if she knows she's being hunted she may burn through her supply faster than she intends trying to keep herself at full strength, forcing her into a desperate catch-22 as she runs out of minions to slow her adversaries down.

But how does she keep this army of hers in check? Limited Wish. Unlike many monster entries where Limited Wish is simply a blank check, the book goes into a lot of detail about how Kurshu manipulates this powerful spark of divine magic she retains and can use, for free, 3 times a day. She primarily uses it as Charm Monster to snare the minds of her prey, keeping them docile and willing to listen to her for two weeks per casting, weakening them with a Wished up Mind Fog if need be, though she can also save a wish casting by instead heightening her spells with a 3/day Power Surge, a swift action she can invoke to raise the save DC of the next spell she casts by +2.

In case you thought she only had her wishes available, this is far from the truth. She has a LONG list of 3/day spells available to her, including but not limited to Cure Serious Wounds, Hold Person, Stinking Cloud, and Slow, with simple but potent offensive options like Fireball, Lightning Bolt, and the reliable Vampiric Touch. She can counter enemy tricks with Dispel Magic and defend herself or a valuable ally with Displacement, and of course she can use all of these while flying*, leaving her foes to tangle with her ground-bound allies while she rains debuffs, damage, and debilitation upon them.

*NOTE: There's an error in her Archives of Nethys sheet; she's supposed to have a 60ft Fly speed (Good) maneuverability!

The book amusingly notes that her tendency to have a flock of Chaotic Outsiders with her, and her own withered appearance, causes many of her enemies to waste powerful anti-Chaos or anti-Undead spells upon her in the mistaken belief she is also some minion of chaos or undeath, often giving her just enough time to retaliate with a powerful blow of her own. In especially dramatic cases, someone may rush up and hit her with a powerful Cure Wounds or Heal spell in the hopes of ending her, only to watch her HP refill and invite her retaliation.

She's no melee fighter and prefers to keep at a distance for fear of death, but the token melee abilities she has are quite potent: her lashing tail can slam victims for 1d8+2 damage, then Grab and constrict them for 1d8+5 damage each round until they either escape or succumb to whatever spell she prepares to melt their brains with via Limited Wish (such as the crushing, no-save-allowed Geas, a spell that LW allows her to cast as a standard action!). And speaking of brain-melting, I'm sure there's a very select audience reading this that will enjoy knowing the snake woman can also shave 1d4 Intelligence off any creature she strikes with either of her two slam attacks (1d8+5 on their own), allowing her to literally beat someone stupid.

Defensively, Kurshu is a tank to a degree matched by few other casting-focused Heralds. 30 AC, DR 10 that's only bypassed by a magical cold iron weapon, and a decent 26 SR to fizzle most spells being cast by the creatures she's hoping to face. She's also got 30 Resistance to (almost) every element but Force, severely cutting down on any attempt to damage her with elemental power... unless that power is Acid damage, which not only does she have no resistance to, but is the only damage type that shuts off her Regeneration 5, an ability she will take full advantage of by keeping out of reach or even teleporting away to heal up.

Kurshu does not wish to fight to the death, and will use her 3/day Greater Teleport or Plane Shift to escape any encounter that begins to turn against her, and trying to counter that with Dimensional Anchor or similar may see her using Limited Wish to break the effect without risking a dispel check failure... or simply teleport her enemies away instead of herself. "Wait, that's not a spell effect in Pathfinder!" To which I smile and point at the fourth line in Limited Wish: "Produce any other effect whose power level is in line with the above effects, such as a single creature automatically hitting on its next attack or taking a -7 penalty on its next saving throw." The example lines on LM's spell card are merely to show the power level it can manage, its actual effect can be anything that roughly matches a 6th level Wizard or Sorcerer spell in terms of power, which a hostile Dimension Door effect to send multiple people hundreds of feet away falls into. Even if she can't get the full party with it, splitting them enough to let her either pick off one or two key members or simply flee the combat is a good enough use in her eyes.

Having spent millennia avoiding her own death with a fear matched only by mortals, Kurshu has no end to emergency options. As mentioned, she can Greater Teleport or Plane Shift away from conflicts she wants no part of up to 3/day. In addition, she has both Craft Wondrous Item and Scribe Scroll, but can combine them with her unique Spell-Like Crafting, allowing her to use her spell-like abilities to meet the prerequisites when creating magic items, something that would normally prevent her from having three or four Limited Wishes on her belt waiting for her personal supply to run out. The same can be said for her transport spells, or scrolls of Tongues (which she can use at-will), Stinking Cloud, or Slow. Such valuable items also act as potent bribes to make other Lawful creatures more likely to serve her by their own free will, if she doesn't simply wish up a pile of valuables to pay them.

Kurshu can be a frightening and powerful foe, even moreso than most other Heralds due to the lack of divine restriction she operates under. She does not need to be invited into a situation by Lissala's worshipers, she can simply show up of her own free will with a small army of fiends, monitors, and celestials at her beck and call, and now everyone simply has to deal with her presence and whatever nonsense her ensorcelled "allies" are getting up to. Why is she here? That's probably the true mystery of the adventure, and solving it brings the party one step closer to making her leave without provoking her potentially apocalyptic wrath.

You can read more about her here.

#monster spotlight #CR 11 to 15 #Horrible Heralds Month #pathfinder #dungeons and dragons

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