#with enough mystery to what’s beyond the wall and if there are more ‘magical’ creatures like Nimona out there that wouldn’t make

[salty-an-disco]

I keep going back-and-forth between the world outside when Quiet and the Princess leave as mortals being more modern or medieval, then I remembered what Nimona’s world did– mixing a futuristic setting with western medieval aesthetics– with flying cars and holographic phones in the same place that has knights riding in horses and brandishing swords (which may have lasers bulti into them, but still).

[twst-drabbles]

Can I ask you and your following,what lines do or want to add to a fic but never could put in.This could be twst related or not.

'Of course, Everybody seems to forget I came out the coffin like the rest of you"

Oh boy time to dig into my notes! Okay okay, see whenever I can't get any prose writing done, I end up writing down a bunch of quotes and lines and other such things that I think could be cool but had to cut out cause it didn't fit anywhere. So I just have them stored away on a file until I find the opportunity to use them

To Vil, there is no such thing as a person born ugly. You are made ugly, by your own hand, by your own lack of care and recklessness.

Many of these lines I have are usually associated with the Eldritch AU, just cause I want that AU to have my best efforts.

Fire. A tall wall of blue flame, stoked up high as the trees planted around them. They enclosed you inside with the ink monster that had aided him since the start. “Of course. I feel invincible in this silent world. “See, exhaustion is a very human thing, and many creatures in my world fail to replicate it, especially when they’re singing. “For some reason, a lot of the monster’s I’ve encountered are usually tone deaf.”

Like, I have lots of them, it's kinda hilarious.

"so, for an impatient one like you, who wanted to pry into all my little secrets well before I would be willing to give them,“ you snapped the papers sharply against your palm, ”these precious treasures will forever be lost to you. “I would have, had you bothered to ask,” and yet, Azul didn’t. …Nothing more than simple paranoia. Not caution, not deliberating one’s actions, paranoia. He assumed the worst out of someone who barely arrived, however… “Y-you can hardly blame me for thinking such things when you consider just how many mysteries surround you. I had to practice caution, lest I let myself be exposed.” “What an odd way you show that caution of yours, Azul Ashengrotto. You were wary of me, that much I was certain, but you were more concerned in how you could possibly have me under you.”

The thing about me is the fact that I'm actually pretty good at writing dialogue, but I usually end up opting for little to none, cause it makes my drabbles too long. Beyond playing RPG's, I also play a fuckton of visual novels in my free time, so my writing has been influenced as such.

“Azul,” you relaxed back against the chair in the newly repaired lounge, “you started this game. You should have known better than to arouse my curiosity.” Stare into the abyss long enough and it shall stare back at you. And what are shadows to do but to hunt the light within your eyes? “Caution dictated that you would poke and prod to see what my role within all these strange happenings is. I can’t say I blame you for doing such a thing. But, you hold no respect towards me. You wanted me to be another tool, another link upon the chain you’ve built to seal away the vault of your weaknesses. And what am I to do, but to open that vault?”

Lot of them is just Eldritch Prefect honestly, though not all of them.

"Magic depends on imagination, and a lot of the time you can't imagine shit when you're panicking."

That line is said by the Janitor Prefect. Don't know the context for that one, I was just trying to get their voice right in my head. Sorta tired, sorta grumpy, but ultimately very knowledgeable on a lot of different subjects.

"'It can't be helped.' I've been told those words many, many times. 'This is just the way things are, you have to understand it. It cannot be stopped. It be like trying to stop the currents, to turn the sands into snow.' From childhood to even now, I've always been told this, but I knew what they were saying. 'Give up on your brother. On your family. You can't reverse your mistake.'"

As soon as I get around to finishing my current event, I think I'm going to be doing Valenio next. No choices to be made with this one, just a straight line of a story, but a story nonetheless.

Man I really wish I was good with art so I can make decent visual novels. Oh well.

[laguzmage]

hello. do you have any recommendations for ttrpgs that enable robust roleplay? my friends want to get back into dnd after not playing for a few years but i think it would be fun to branch out, espscially considering how they like to focus more on character & story than combat encounters. thanks in advance!

The best one for like, roleplay and storytelling IMO is probably Numenera, the game has this really really good system in which players have stat pools instead of numeric bonuses, that serves both as their health, and as a kind of Stamina bar that they can use to apply Effort to a task to make it easier.

So what this translates to is if you want your character to accomplish some physically or mentally arduous task, they can do it and there's a gameplay mechanic around like, "And Nemo the Glaive does indeed climb that wall, her muscles are ragged, her fingers are torn up and bleeding, she collapses to catch her breath" because it wasn't just a close roll, it was one in which you spent some of your Brawn/Speed to do so - in fact Numenera features this really smart thing where if you fail a roll, as long as the GM doesn't specifically say "yeah you can't try again", you can immediately reroll but you have to spend Effort. So that can even feed back into the story of like, "Nemo starts to climb but she slips, hits her side against the rock face, gulping up the air that just got pushed out of her lungs she tightens her grip with her one remaining hand and swings around to get more stable footing, and tries again"

It also features this really ingenious thing where the players always roll the dice - the players (almost) always roll a D20 - and what they have to roll is a target number based on what the GM says the task's difficulty is (1-10) - very rarely with math after the fact. So unlike say, 5E/Pathfinder/etc there's no "Whoops we got caught in the moment and forgot what half the mechanics and dice rolls are here", you know it's Always gonna be a D20 and it's Always gonna be what the dice says, without adding your stat bonus and your proficiency modifier and whoops you still have guidance I forgor so add a D4 and-

The other thing that I really like about Numenera (The other game I'm gonna recommend does this too), is it has a THICK rulebook (418 pages!!) that contains short stories, lore snippets, Numenera also specifically has these long segments about each nation and tribe in their map, their culture, cities, who each nation beefs with and why, all contained in the Core Rulebook so you can get a sense for the world without needing to find a bunch of supplementary text.

As an aside - you mention not wanting to just do combat. One other thing Numenera does that I really like is that it's bestiary features a wide list of creatures that have motivations and thoughts other then "Eat adventurer, roll initiative" - for example, one creature in it just wants to eat Numenera and gain their power, so players with sufficient observation skills and enough self control to not immediately attack can figure out it just wants to eat that weird cube in your pack, and you weren't planning to use it anyway, and resolve the encounter that way

Lorewise, Numenera is a setting in which civilization has risen and fallen something like 8 previous times, sometimes reaching the level of galactic spacetravel, sometimes reaching the point of being able to build Dyson Spheres and new worlds, and sometimes getting beyond even that. All contained on a feudal alt-earth with a fantasy flair to it. It kind of takes the "Sufficient enough technology is indistinguishable from magic" phrase and builds a whole setting based off of it. Players delve into ancient vaults, ruins, and ships, and its obvious its like, an ancient spaceship, a forgotten lab, and so on, but do the characters know that? The world is full of mysterious magical artifacts except the magical artifact is like, a vial of liquid that if poured on you hardens and becomes steel, a mysterious box and sphere and the sphere you can place somewhere, and view what the sphere sees from the box anywhere on the world, the one where they just straight up describe a sniper rifle as if its an esoteric staff,

This ask got kind of long so the other one, Shadowrun, is below the cut ⬇

The other one is, way more mechanically complex, but I'm a bit of an evangelist for it, is Shadowrun. I can't speak to how 6th edition is (I'm sorry Catalyst game labs I'm sorry I bought like 10 Shadowrun 5 sourcebooks and I'm not ready to let them go yet), but in 5th edition the game has this insane level of character customization to where I'd strongly recommend downloading a program to help you (Like Chummer5, I think some people back when I played it at a game store used Hero Forge somehow. I saw another one called OMAE) - point is, you're gonna be doing a lot of math making a Shadowrun character, and spending a lot of time juggling priority tables, weighing minor differences in stats for cars and commlinks, optimizing your starting perks and flaws, etc.

Once you get out of character customization though, all you're really rolling is an insane number of D6s and counting the ones that are 5 and 6 (The rulebook will call them Hits), based on a combination of your stat, the skill being rolled, and any specializations you have and gear bonuses you get. The game can get pretty complex if like, you're playing as a hacker and using the erratas that add new stuff for hackers, but a solid 80% of that is gonna be the GM doing the lifting, so they get the choice on how crazy they want to get with the rolling and rules.

So why would I say "Oh Shadowrun is good for that" if its way more number and dice crunchy then Numenera?

Well, the first reason is that Shadowrun has no character classes, there's a few stat caps based on if you're playing as an Elf or Troll or Orc or something instead of a human, but beyond that you can take your starting character and go anywhere with it. Don't like that bards in DnD still have a wide list of combat things they can do? Want to play someone with the charisma skills and they immediately eat SHIT the second that bouncer gets tired of them and goes to toss them in the street? Well you're in charge buddy! Want to make a wizard but instead of being smart, you want to be good at physical tasks so when spells don't cut it he pulls out his glock and starts casting bullet? You KNOW you can do that!! Hell, there's even things that can raise those aforementioned stat caps so that if you want to play as The Scholarly Troll you can do that

The other reason Shadowrun can be good for that is that the Shadowrun core rule book is *502* fuckin pages, and that's not all mechanics and tables and rules and example maps. Shadowrun 5's CRB (And every single errata) is full of short stories, forum style messages from people in universe discussing the merits (or demerits) of gear, setting the stage for the world and the megacorps that run it, and so on.

Lorewise, Shadowrun is set on earth - but specifically an earth where in 2012 magic returned, and violently. Dragons flew around and set stuff on fire, wizards and warlocks immediately awoke to their abilities, oftentimes without the ability to fully control them, the fae, and so on. Flash forward to the 2050s, all of that still exists, but now it's the cyberpunk future on top of it. Dragons run a couple of the big 10 megacorps. Your elf or orc ranger can get cybernetics, the spirit shaman can be the spirit shaman of the mysterious sewer sludge, and so on. Its the big classic cyberpunk setting that, well, isn't called Cyberpunk

[kinocomix]

TSTW devlog 14: PHASE B HAS BEGUN 

a lot of comic artists do this thing that i will actively attack them for in the form of this devlog which is that they say they’re going to make a comic but fall down the rabbit hole of the endless development loop where they insist on doing sixty things in parallel and that they’ll start it when they figure out the story or once they make a bit more concept art or once all the pieces are together as if their comic is a magical goblet that needs to touch all the creatures in the forest to give you the special secret.

SO.

I’m kickstarting phase B of the devlog since I think 3+ months of research and preparation is more than enough information. beyond that, I think the returns are quite diminished. here’s what happened this week. 

I wrote more detailed character descriptions. 

I fixed some things about the logo that were bothering me:

I also wrote the first three scenes. here’s scene 2 out of context, skip to the dotted lines if you don’t want spoilers:

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 [camera shows a tire shop with a second floor. speech bubble is coming from second floor]

voice through wall: what the fuck do you MEAN you’re microwaving your socks?

cut to inside. rami and jamil are there. jamil is at the drums and rami is holding his phone talking to rabih.

phone: well you see, ya boy is out of socks. so i washed some by hand cause it would take too long to do them in the machine. then i realized, shit. the socks are wet–

rami: -can’t you just use an iron?

phone:-you think i own an iron?

rami: well i don’t know put them on a heater or something?

phone: -you think i own a heater?

rami, putting his hand against his eyes: I hate that It’s beginning to make sense

Phone: yeah so i put them in for the first 5 minutes and it kind of worked, for now they’ve been in there for around 20, they still need a bit of microwaving

jamil: is that even safe…?

Phone: oh yeah yeah I did some research It’s fine

rami: you did RESEARCH?

phone: well yeah i’m not putting my socks in a microwave if it’s going to set the building on fire, plus i learned it’s surprisingly easy to make bleach shirts, where can we get freezer paper?

rami: what the fuck does this have to do with you being two hours late to practice

phone: well you see in the article i looked up on how to microwave socks the picture was a man with a nice beige and white shirt which i would totally wear so i got a bit distracted

jamil, looking at his phone: we can get some off amazon

phone: ayre b amazon* * fuck amazon is there nowhere else?

jamil, a little disappointed but in a cute :( way : no

rami: WHY ARE WE TALKING ABOUT FREEZER PAPER

jamil: i mean he’s already late might as well

rami: AYRE FIKON TNAYNETKON* *fuck both of you

phone: by the way, am i on speaker? I want to say something.

jamil: dude i’ve been talking to you this whole time

phone: just checking, but… i’ve been meaning to tell you guys something, i think we need a manager

rami looks to the side, averting eye contact.

jamil: … 

yeah…

[everyone looks at each other awkwardly for way too long, empty speech bubbles with beginnings of sentences and such]

rami, Annoyed: anyways just fucking get here please…

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I estimate the script will need around three months to finish. before i explain what’s going to happen as i do that let’s quickly recap what we did so far as pre production:

we learned about the musical elements and the sensibilities therein including metal, punk and classical music

we learned about the spread of information and how ideas live and die like languages

we talked about mysteries and how the most mundane things can be interesting when framed with the right narrative

we learned about dogs and how they’re trained

we figured out what our thesis is and discussed our themes

we drafted out the characters and gave them nice designs

we named the band they’re in and made a cool logo for it

here’s what we DIDN’T DO:

i have yet to learn musecore. this is mainly because i try to not move my computer around often so i couldn’t dedicate time to it but this is something i can do while writing the script.

I didn’t make style pages. these are comic pages you make just to show what the comic looks like but i’ve grown well acquainted with the tools and the designs are going to evolve no matter what i do, so this felt pointless to some extent

so what does this mean?

i have a different project that can’t really work as a webcomic, so i’m going to be working on that while i write the script and releasing it as one big thing when it’s done. next week, there won’t be an update for TSTW, instead there will be one for this second project that we will discuss and make as we go. once that’s done, the devlog will be over and will be instead replaced by the actual comic.

that’s it for now.

devlog updates on tuesdays. 

[suzannahnatters]

The problem with the Netflix Shadow & Bone, imho, is that it ends with a total lack of joy. (SPOILERS ENSUE) Look I am not in favour of darklina, my ship is Alina x brilliant saintly career. I thought I was gunna be OK with the Darkling getting offed, as long as he got to be entertainingly evilly attractive first (he did not). But then Alina hissed "there is no redemption" and I wanted to RIOT. Seriously? This is what you're giving us? David is missing and Genya thinks he's dead, Kaz and Inej are in limbo, Matthias is STILL stuck in jail, and Alina doesn't even get her Boring Consolation Prize (sorry Mal but yawn). (I did not read any of the books, except Six of Crows, and it didn't work for me). So y'all know what "eucatastrophe" is, yeah? It's the word JRR Tolkien coined. Here he is in On Fairy Stories: The consolation of fairy-stories, the joy of the happy ending: or more correctly of the good catastrophe, the sudden joyous “turn” (for there is no true end to any fairy-tale): this joy, which is one of the things which fairy-stories can produce supremely well, is not essentially 'escapist', nor 'fugitive'. In its fairy-tale—or otherworld—setting, it is a sudden and miraculous grace: never to be counted on to recur. It does not deny the existence of dyscatastrophe, of sorrow and failure: the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance; it denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat and in so far is evangelium, giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief.

It is the mark of a good fairy-story, of the higher or more complete kind, that however wild its events, however fantastic or terrible the adventures, it can give to child or man that hears it, when the “turn” comes, a catch of the breath, a beat and lifting of the heart, near to (or indeed accompanied by) tears, as keen as that given by any form of literary art, and having a peculiar quality." And it's this eucatastrophe that is totally missing from Shadow & Bone. Heck, I'd settle for a straight catastrophe - make it a tragedy if you can't make it a fairy-tale, and at least it'll be dramatically satisfying. Shadow & Bone ends on neither. This is why the whole climax was so predictable. Things went right, but not miraculously right. There was just an absence of anything going wrong. And it was utterly joyless.

The Crows are obviously going to grab the sword and turn up in the nick of time...check.

Mal is going to get Only Mostly Deaded just long enough for Alina to ascend and  destroy the fold...check.

The Darkling will rant a bit and get killed for real...check.

You know what, I was actually TOTALLY convinced what the eucatastrophe at the end of this story was going to be. For a whole two seasons we'd been seeing Alina slaughter these beautiful, magical, mysterious creatures in order to amplify her powers. And each time she has this moment of transcendent empathy with the creature, and she tries to find a way out of having to kill it. Then the third creature turns out to be the person she (for some incalculable reason) loves. I was CONVINCED that the happy twist would be Alina stepping out in faith, refusing to kill Mal, and discovering that he's able to amplify her anyway. And maybe finding a way to offer grace to the Darkling, too.

But nope.

She kills both of them. And then she brings Mal back. And he's like "joke's on you I'd rather be dead."

For a show where someone dies and is brought back to life it was curiously devoid of any sense of wonder, any sense of surprise, any sense of redemption.

Just utterly joyless.

I think part of what’s troubling me about Shadow and Bone season 2 is the cruelty. Hope and redemption are so fundamental to my own personal worldview and ethics/morals, and the show bluntly states “There is no redemption” and “Hope is dangerous” with no rejoinders in the narrative. “Hope is dangerous” not just for one of the show’s main relationships, but also for the Grisha hoping for a better future, and for the main antagonist, who has actually been working to build that better future. We as viewers know that hope remains for Kaz and Inej and for the surviving Grisha–but not for Aleksander Morozova. So the character is denied both hope and redemption within the narrative, leading to an imbalance.

With the lack of hope and redemption, the justice depicted in the show is retributional justice exemplified through violence, rather than rehabilitative or restorative justice. This leads to a preservation of the status quo–violence begets more violence–and flattens the character arcs of the protagonist and antagonist.

[lizard-reads-the-world]

18 Afrofantasy Worlds to Read after you watch Wakanda Forever

So I see you guys love these lists and, hey, I’m not going to complain, I love looking at these sets of beautiful cover art. This theme is... Afro Fantasy Worlds! ♥♥ From alt-Cairo to alt-Johannesburg and many magical worlds in between, I’ve chosen 18 books full of African magic.

Add your favorites in the comments, too! I only ended up with two male MCs... that’s sadly a shortcoming in YA fantasy in general, although not every book here is YA.

Support my blog and read at the same time when you buy from the linked titles below, which go to Bookshop.org (where you support small bookshops, too!) Or get a free trial at Scribd for ebooks & audiobooks.

Beasts of Prey by Ayana Gray Fate binds two Black teenagers from different social classes together  as they strike a dangerous alliance to enter a magical jungle and hunt down the ancient creature menacing their home--and discover much more than they bargained for.

Daughters of Nri by Reni K. Amayo A gruesome war results in the old gods' departure from earth. The only remnants of their existence lie in two girls. Twins, separated at birth. Goddesses who grow up believing that they are human. Their epic journey of self-discovery as they embark on a path back to one another.

Everfair by Nisi Shawl A steampunk alternate-history novel set in the Belgian Congo. What if the African natives developed steam power ahead of their colonial oppressors? This land, named Everfair, is set aside as a safe haven, an imaginary Utopia for native populations of the Congo as well as escaped slaves returning from America and other places where African natives were being mistreated.

The Final Strife by Saara El-Arifi A fantasy trilogy with its roots in the mythology of Africa and Arabia, three women band together against a cruel empire where castes are divided by the color of one's blood.

A Master of Djinn by P. Djèlí Clark A young magical detective in 1912 Cairo must investigate the murders of a secret brotherhood dedicated to one of the most famous men in history, al-Jahiz, when the murderer claims to be al-Jahiz himself returned to condemn the modern age for its social oppressions

Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko Tarisai was raised in isolation by a mysterious, often absent mother known only as The Lady. The Lady sends her to compete to be chosen as one of the Crown Prince's Council of 11. If she's picked, she'll be joined with the other Council members through the Ray, a bond deeper than blood. That closeness is irresistible to Tarisai, who has always wanted to belong somewhere. But The Lady has other ideas, including a magical wish that Tarisai is compelled to obey: Kill the Crown Prince once she gains his trust.

Kingdom of Souls by Rena Barron Heir to two lines of powerful witchdoctors, Arrah yearns for magic of her own. Under the disapproving eye of her mother, the Kingdom's most powerful priestess and seer, she fears she may never be good enough. But when the Kingdom's children begin to disappear, Arrah is desperate enough to turn to a forbidden, dangerous ritual.

Son of the Storm by Suyi Davies Okungbowa Danso is a clever scholar on the cusp of achieving greatness--except he doesn't want it. Instead, he prefers to chase forbidden stories about what lies outside the city walls. But when Danso stumbles across a warrior wielding magic that shouldn't exist, he's put on a collision course with Bassa's darkest secrets. Drawn into the city's hidden history, he sets out on a journey beyond its borders.

The Theft of Sunlight by Intisar Khanani Children have been disappearing from across Menaiya for longer than Amraeya ni Ansarim can remember. When her friend's sister is snatched, Rae knows she can't look away any longer. She finds unexpected support from a foreign princess and a street thief with secrets of his own.

Blood Scion by Deborah Falayei They wanted me to be a monster. I will be the worst monster they ever created. Fifteen-year-old Sloane can incinerate an enemy at will--she is a Scion, a descendant of the ancient Orisha gods. When she is forcibly conscripted into the Lucis army, Sloane sees a new opportunity: to overcome the bloody challenges of Lucis training, and destroy them from within.

Skin of the Sea by Natasha Bowen Simi prayed to the gods, once. Now she serves them as Mami Wata--a mermaid--collecting the souls of those who die at sea and blessing their journeys back home. But when a living boy is thrown overboard, Simi goes against an ancient decree and does the unthinkable--she saves his life. And punishment awaits those who dare to defy the gods.

The Gilded Ones by Namina Forna On the day of the blood ceremony of her village, Deka's blood runs gold, the color of impurity-and Deka knows she will face a consequence worse than death. Then a mysterious woman comes to her with a choice: stay in the village and submit to her fate, or leave to fight for the emperor in an army of girls just like her. They are called alaki-near-immortals with rare gifts. And they are the only ones who can stop the empire's greatest threat.

Zoo City by Lauren Beukes Set in a world where murderers and other criminals acquire magical animals that are mystically bonded to them. Zinzi has a Sloth on her back, a dirty 419 scam habit, and a talent for finding lost things. When a little old lady turns up dead and the cops confiscate her last paycheck, Zinzi's forced to take on her least favorite kind of job -- missing persons.

Noor by Nnedi Okorafor In a near-future Nigeria. Anwuli Okwudili prefers to be called AO, Artificial Organism. Instead of viewing her strange body the way the world views it, as freakish, unnatural, even the work of the devil, AO embraces all that she is: A woman with a ton of major and necessary body augmentations. And then one day she goes to her local market and everything goes wrong.

Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi Zélie Adebola remembers when the soil of Orïsha hummed with magic. But everything changed the night magic disappeared. Under the orders of a ruthless king, maji were killed, leaving Zélie without a mother and her people without hope. Now Zélie has one chance to bring back magic and strike against the monarchy. With the help of a rogue princess, Zélie must outwit and outrun the crown prince, who is hell-bent on eradicating magic for good.

A River of Royal Blood by Amanda Joy Sixteen-year-old Eva is a princess, born with the magick of marrow and blood--a dark and terrible magick that hasn't been seen for generations in the vibrant but fractured country of Myre. Its last known practitioner was Queen Raina, who toppled the native khimaer royalty and massacred thousands, including her own sister, eight generations ago. Eva must now face her older sister, Isa, in a battle to the death if she hopes to ascend to the Ivory Throne.

Changa’s Safari by Milton Davis In the 15th century on the African Continent a young prince flees his homeland of Kongo, vowing to seek revenge for the murder of his father and the enslavement of his family and his people. He triumphs over the slavery and the fighting pits of Mogadishu to become a legendary fighter and respected merchant.

Waking Fire by Jean Louise Naira Khoum has only known life in Lagusa, a quiet village at the desert’s end. But to the rest of the world, Lagusa is a myth, its location shrouded in secrecy. While war rages to the north led by power-hungry Sothpike and his army of undead monsters called Dambi, Naira’s people live in peace. Until the impossible happens—Lagusa is attacked by a Mistress sent to do Sothpike’s bidding with a hoard of Dambi under her control.

Bonus: Daughters of Oduma by Moses Ose Utomi An elite female fighter must reenter the competition to protect her found family of younger sisters in this scintillating young adult fantasy inspired by West African culture.

[thrandilf]

a particular cruelty

Few creatures understood the star arcanum.

Star weaver spiders knew it, their gossamer, delicate webs fragile and powerful all at once, creating dew kissed constellations, connecting. Unicorns in their purity knew it too, how a benevolent star could look upon those below and feel sympathy, a distant light that only wanted to offer comfort, wishes. A rare, imprintable cuddlemonkey whose first sight upon birth was the cosmos above understood it too, that a sky above was there before them and would be after, timelessness.

He knew it too.

Aaravos breathed starlight, lived starlight, was starlight. The star arcanum was beyond most human minds to understand, asking them to feel both frigid distance and the fine threads connecting the stars and every living thing to each other. It was pinpricks of light against darkness, not enough to only take one, but to wield both. It was time, the simultaneous stillness and motion of the heavens, the ability to feel it all, see it all, be it all.

Stars were not at all like the moon. There were no half truths, no lies to their power. They had to be taken in their full glory, magnificent and infinite.

Wishes were made on stars.

How funny, that they were particularly made on shooting stars.

Aaravos clenched his jaw, pacing as he had thousands of times before. His being was made from connection, wishes, eternity. The universe was more fluid than water, starlight more powerful than the bonds that held water together. Even walking under the stars, he could feel the planet’s orbit, its own place in the heavens, every celestial body within motion.

He’d been ripped from it.

It was as though he no longer possessed any senses, deprived of everything he’d once taken for granted, encased in deafening silence.

Did they know, had they known, that he was a creature of connection? Stars existed to shine, to see all. Did they know what kind of agony it was, to never know the time of day? Did they know he felt as though he was suffocating, with no other being but him and his reflection as the candles burned and the centuries passed?

He’d lashed out once, screaming as he clawed at the ornate walls of his cage, digging in tally marks all around him of candles that had burned down to nothing. Fire magic at his fingertips left feral scars against every surface he’d touched, sobbing as he blindly let madness take over, as though he was imploding, turning into a black hole.

The most recent time he’d used star magic was at last, to form a connection.

He was composed and elegant, the picture of mysterious power, but his heart finally started to beat again when he heard someone else’s voice. Viren’s voice.

And to think, it was Viren who thought he had nothing to lose, who had let his desperation foolishly show, not knowing who was truly the desperate one.

Aaravos had a single thread to weave a single web, and it was all he needed.

[majickth]

majick. majick. i am so curious. care to tell us more abt the garden au? o.o

OH I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED Bear with me here, because its one hell of a plot summary

so it starts at a boarding school, Imperium Academy. Old place, apparently built on the remains of a castle, fairly prestigious though not without its share of mysterious. One of which involves the disappearance of a student three years ago -- a mystery that still haunts Scott considering that said student was his brother. Set to uncover the truth of his missing brother, Scott teams up with a group of friends after discovering a mysterious map and key leading into the surrounding woods.

Following the map leads to the ruins of an old garden which, plot twist, have been found and restored by the Unofficial Official Garden Club, a secret little group headed by Pearl. The club doesn’t take kindly to being discovered; doubly so when Pix, realizing that the map leads to some place beyond the garden, begins to tear down some of the plants. Doing so reveals a small hidden door that can be unlocked with the key found previously. The group, realizing that they’ve got a proper mystery on their hands, do the reasonable thing of going through the strange door and find themselves...

In a place that’s very much not their own world. In fact, this new world seems straight out of a fantasy novel. There’s elves, talking animals, magic -- it’s strange but exciting. Stranger yet, when the group does return back to the school, it seems like no time has passed despite days or even weeks going by in the fantasy world. The group explore, make friends with the local populace of magical beings, and even battle monsters -- at Imperium, they’re just kids, but here, they’re heroes.

During one adventure, they’re tasked with investigating some great darkness that’s been threatening some great sacred temple. The group go, ready to fight, and find...themselves. They’re statues, twelve in total, and they’re dressed in regal clothing and look much older, but it’s definitely the group. Before they can process what this all means, they’re attacked by a demon. This creature, whatever it is, is relentless. It’s too fast, too strong, it can even turn friends against one another -- and it defeats the twelve. Miraculously, no one dies, but the mental and physical trauma is...heavy. Heavy enough that, when everyone gets back to the real world, Pix leaves the door locked.

Following the Incident, the group split apart. Pix is the first, getting pulled out of the school and labelled a traitor. People graduate. They stop talking to one another. No one goes back to the garden...

Except Pearl, who still has the scars from the demon, but doesn’t want to see her sunflowers wilt.

There’s a timeskip, 10 years or so.

Pix, now an archeologist and history professor, has ironically managed to put the past behind him -- until news arrives of Pearl’s disappearance. Stranger yet is the arrival of an amnesiac named False who comes bearing a letter from the missing Pearl:

“It’s not over. Never was. We need to go back to where it all began.”

The group (+ False and Pearl’s strange roommate Oli) must now reunite to find their missing friend and return to a world behind the walls of...The Garden.

[thronelessking]

The silence between them is dry and frigid at the offer some something in return. The archmage does not blink and blunder as if stupefied for she is no stranger to the halls of this home; how the Baron and his many sons function is not unknown to her. Draconic values are no mystery, the ones of this manor could not so much as give a twitch of a brow. Knowledge for knowledge, riches for riches. But the Witch of Sarkoris needs nothing a child could offer, no book he could squander from the vast libraries she has not read, no trinket such small hands can hold. She stares at him unimpressed, impassive, lips set in their usual thinly pursed line.

The Witch trails a finger deliberately down the books spine, feels the magic call to her. After all, it is her and her alone who placed the many safeguards upon it to prevent prying eyes from seeing too much. From seeing the secrets only she alone should know. "The Baron asks you to learn magic of all swathes and paths." A statement, she knows. She listens. One does not live with demons without have an eye in every shadow, an ear in every rafter. To be one step ahead is not enough, so she has planned and watched. She will leave such a loathsome creature in the dust, outpaced, outdone at every turn. This child too will outsmart him, she will make sure of it.

So she takes the first step towards the inevitable end of the Barons tale. "I will ask you not to learn but to master."

The coldness in her gaze is nor of disdain, but it is simple intensity. It is more than this nameless child has ever had, this she knows. The mage barely taps her finger against the book, reinforces the protections of the most dangerous of her magic, her knowledge. Her madness. The tome, hefty, too large and bulky for a simply wizards book, wrapped in the leathers of magical beasts that no longer thrive flares to life for a moment; the air reeks of the smell of the abyss, the wretched sulfur and rot, and in an instant it is gone.

She returns the Lexicon of Paradox to such small hands. She whets the appetite of a hungry soul. "I will teach you the magic you can read within this and the magic from beyond the walls of your home. You will show me your mastery of it; that is the cost of my knowledge." It is all she asks for but she understands that this child will know what it means. To perfect magic takes time. The archmage sets no deadline but simply a high standard to clear, she expects him to learn. To learn and practice. To live for she sees promise in his existence. "When you master the tools I have given you, then I will teach you how you will use it to build."

To a passerby it is a talk about fundamentals, that to learn magic broadly is a hampering process. But one day, this child will understand. there will be a day where he studies and realizes that he is being instructed on how to build a specific structure, a specific event. Areelu Vorlesh after all did not manifest the Worldwound in a day. No, it was years through of painstaking research and even slower execution, such slow progression it would have been pure agony to those without patience. "If you falter then I will cease my lessons." Her only caveat, but one she knows will be taken seriously. This child has yet to have disappointed the Baron, he will not disappoint her. "Am I understood?"

It is hard for the doll to not find itself in awe of this woman. Her coldness is different from what it knows. 

What the stone knows is ice cold indifference, it is the coldness that makes you not feel the tip of your fingers. That freezes people alive, preserves them in that one instant forever. 

A different form of torture.

This is like the cold edge of a knife. It cuts with precision, it takes what it needs and nothing more. Age old cruelty is something the young man does not see here. And it should not call that behavior "indifference", either. To be indifferent, you need to have a measure of care. You need to have any feelings involved, be they good or bad. It extends a small hand forward, about to ask for it again – when it stops. This woman cuts him open with a knife and extracts what she wants. And then offers something in return, water for a parched traveler. 

“You will teach me?” It asks. He asks. It sounds hopeful, even from his own lips. It – he – has to cover his mouth with his left hand. He should not smile. There is no reason to be smiling, even if it is just a tiny fragment of one. Lips curled upwards, the satisfaction of attention. “I want to create things, too. I want to understand how it works, its fundamentals and basics. How it changes, transforms, evolves. Will you teach me?”

The knowledge I seek. Can you give it to me? It is a question it asks without so many words. Of course he does not realize how she sharpens his edges, turns him into a knife aimed at the arrogance of an ancient being. The sloth of immortality, the lack of desire to continue to take your own steps. The doll seizes it with his own two tiny hands.

"It has been a while since I had a dedicated teacher." The 'others' do not count. They teach it as much as they know, but this is all inherited knowledge. It does not allow creativity, it does not allow him to pry the concept open and observe the arcane and become one with it. The doll feels it, coursing through his veins. Feats small and big seem possible, if only it applies itself to it.

If she allows him to possess the book and gives him something, then-- "What do I have to do in return?" Again, the matter of a price. It knows well. Blue eyes stare at deep red ones, unblinking. "I want you to teach me. You, who can freely walk between here and the outside world." There are almost words that want to form, in a tongue that he knows he should not know. But the words are almost there, that tingling feeling of forgetting exactly how to say something. It shakes his head. "I want to build. So I would like you to teach me how."

[mithrilwren]

echoes

or, some angsty Shadowgast in honour of Caleb’s new telepathy powers

There was a time when a voice from the darkness was comforting. Hearing his own name in the moments between rest and wakefulness – sleepy recognition and then the warmth of fond annoyance as Jester poured her unfiltered thoughts into his mind, so loud and bright that none of the anxietyfearshame could force its way through. In the moments when Essek was most alone, he used to crave it – that too-brief cacophony of words, that intrusion without intent to coerce, or harm. A brief reprieve from the solitude of a lonely mind.

Unbelievable, isn’t it?

Why then, when Caleb’s soft accent finds its way into his head for the first time, does his heart clench instead of calm?

Perhaps it is unfamiliarity, he almost manages to convince himself by the time they find their battered, bleeding way to rest, tucked amidst the vacant streets of the floating city of Aeor. He has grown accustomed to Jester’s voice, to its unpredictable cadence and pitch. While Caleb’s measured tone, his soft accent and carefully chosen words, are not new to his ears, they are new in their closeness: a touch without touch, below the skin, so desired and feared that the thought of it makes him dizzy. 

Essek pulls a blanket over his knees, preparing to meditate and wincing as the bruises of the day make themselves known. Caleb is on first watch. He sits crosslegged, staring out past the broken walls of the Cognouza Ward towards the curtain of endless night, but he looks up at the sharp intake of breath Essek can’t quite manage to hold in. His eyes soften in sympathy, and the words come so softly Essek can imagine them as a whisper drifting across the dome – only Caleb’s lips do not move.

We wizards are made too fragile, ja?

Should he respond? Can he respond? It makes Essek unexpectedly nervous, to realize he does not know the answer. How far can this new ability take Caleb? Can he only plant words in Essek’s mind, or can he reach beyond and pluck the thoughts from Essek just as easily? A slow, sickening curl forms in the pit of his stomach, and for a moment he sees yellowed teeth and cruel grey eyes, laying words he had not spoken down on the table between them like so many sharpened knives. A name, a fear, a secret longing laid bare, all in service of obtaining so-called loyalty...

But Caleb is not Ikithon. This, above all else, he knows. He trusts Caleb. He will be cautious, but he will not question that certainty. No matter what these mysterious eyes are, no matter what powers they lend, he trusts Caleb to know the limit. Gods know how little he deserves the same trust in return. 

And so he inclines his head with a small smile, to show he’s heard and understood, and returns his gaze to his lap, and reminds himself to be grateful that he is cared for, by whatever method that care comes.

---

They risk the tower the second night of hunting, exhausted after spending the day dodging architecture that seems determined to divide their party in two, or failing that, their heads from their bodies. Nobody is eager to chance the cobblestone collapsing out from under the dome for a second night.

Caleb and Beau each have two new eyes. If they’ve informed anyone in the group about any new powers, no one has passed the information along to Essek, and he is not certain he wants to ask. The thought of any further changes makes him queasy, though Caleb and Beau themselves seem in good spirits, apart from complaints of headaches and phantom voices. A smile through gritted teeth is still a smile, and he tries to accept the reassurance for what it is, without letting instinctual suspicion sour whatever tenuous bonds he’s formed with the others. 

Essek completes his meditation with four hours left over before the rest of the Nein will awake. He leaves his room, intending to peruse the star chamber that Caleb showed to him on his last visit, and hoping the quiet space will be a good place to think. As much as he cares for the Nein, he is still at his heart a solitary creature, and it has been a long while since he has spent so many nights in the company of others. The black emptiness of the expanse will be a welcome comfort.

The solitude does indeed do him good, and he is feeling measurably more level-headed when the sound of footsteps interrupts his quiet contemplation. He turns to see Caleb on the threshold, tired-eyed but smiling softly.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he says, and at the time, Essek has no reason to question what intuition brought Caleb to his location so easily. 

“Trouble sleeping?” he asks, and Caleb huffs a small laugh.

“More often than not… but not tonight,” he says before walking forward. To Essek’s surprise, he sits down on the floor, with every appearance of making himself comfortable there for a long while. After a moment, Essek follows his lead and lowers himself down as well, robes spilling out over his own feet and just brushing the edge of Caleb’s. Essek reaches a hand out to pull the fabric back into his lap, but the sound of Caleb’s voice catches him unawares, and his hand stutters to a stop in midair.

Do you see that constellation? 

Essek’s head whips towards Caleb, smile still in place and splayed across unmoving lips. Caleb cocks his head, eyes crinkling in confusion as Essek stares, and stares.

“We are alone,” Essek reminds him at last. “Is there a reason not to speak aloud?”

Caleb hesitates just a moment too long for Essek’s comfort before responding. He ducks his head, auburn hair falling away to reveal the slightest sliver of red on the inside of his jaw. “No. No reason,” he says, and when he looks back up at Essek, his look is mischievous enough to startle the lingering unease out of Essek’s chest. Involuntarily, he finds his own lips quirking up at the twinkle in Caleb’s eye. 

“What?” he asks.

Caleb reaches out and taps the back of his hand with a finger, and a familiar magical lightness fills Essek’s chest, as the legs that were resting against the floor begin to float. Then Caleb’s fingers find his, pulling him away into the air, and speechless, he lets himself be pulled up – up, up – until the two of them are floating so high above that the floor is nothing but a dull sheen amid the endless stars. 

“We are alone,” Caleb echoes, low and dark, and Essek’s stomach swoops with a vertigo that has nothing to do with their height. “So, shall we dance? Here, at the end of the world?”

Yet again, Essek is caught speechless, but when Caleb’s other hand lands gently on his waist, he manages a nod. And in the silence of starlight, they begin to spin.

Essek cannot say when he closes his eyes, or why – whether the motion of the light and dark becomes too much, or if it’s the look in Caleb’s eyes: too warm, too close to bear. There are so few inches between them that when the words come – those soft, terrible, wonderful words, that leave his face hot and hands cold – it’s impossible to tell whether they were spoken aloud, or merely heard. And in the darkness, he finds he does not care. 

It is Caleb’s voice that envelops him, as they drift together among the stars, and that is all he needs to know.

---

The trail never quite grows cold, and yet Lucien and Cree remain elusive. Frustration turns to despair and back to frustration again, as each time they seem on the precipice of catching their prey, another obstacle springs up in their path: a cosmic creature, a horde of spirits, an unscalable spire that wasn’t there the night before. Essek begins to lose track of the days they’ve spent wandering the city. The hours bleed together, and it’s only Caleb’s clockwork reminders that keep them bedding down at the right intervals. Every day feels shorter than the next, and more than once Essek bites his tongue, wanting to ask if Caleb is sure the time is right, if they really have been wandering for as long as he says. 

But every time, he stops himself. His body must be confused, or perhaps time works strangely in this immortal city. Caleb would have no reason to lie. And once they are safe in the tower, he cannot bring himself to complain about the energy that still thrums, unspent, beneath his skin. Not when the others sleep, and Caleb and Essek have the nights to themselves.

And yes, Essek is concerned that he and Beau have stopped sleeping. Of course he is. He is concerned about the eyes, and the faraway look that Caleb gets when he stares too long at a window, or an empty doorframe. But when they are together, Caleb is never far away. He is here, unmistakably present, for the hours that Essek is awake while the others sleep, and he has never imagined- could never have imagined how incredible that could be. How much he would give up, to not surrender this.

Caleb knocks on his door, and he answers without any hesitation.

“Join me,” Caleb says, a half-smile still playing over his lips – just formal enough for plausible deniability, if anyone was to hear. They might be going to do research, or discuss battle strategy. But instead, Caleb leads him to his own room, and they are barely through the door before Essek’s back is pressed to it, Caleb’s breath hot against his throat, and he has swiftly learned to love the racing chill of being held beneath a weight greater than his own. 

They stay there a moment, Caleb’s eyes searching for permission before he leans in, a question held and asked before anything is taken. Essek never imagined that being trapped could feel so... safe.

“Join me,” Caleb’s lips say again, before they press themselves to Essek, and Essek swallows the words away, lets heavy breath suffocate the mismatched sounds that pass out of reach before he can fully grasp their shape: the words Caleb didn’t say, but that Essek hears, or thinks he does, or maybe has been imagining all along. 

An echo, in the corner of his mind. Nothing more. 

Join us.

(Join us)

(Join us)

[starryevermore]

31 Days of Halloween (2021) is an exercise of creativity born out of the desire to delve more into the fantastic. Sixteen stories feature Colby Brock as one supernatural creature or another (except for one, which delves more into fairy tales, but magical nonetheless), and the remaining fifteen are more on the “realistic” side of fantasy with the typical ghost-hunting shenanigans (some more serious, some more comical, as it should be). None of the stories are connected; all of them exist in their own, individual universe. Enjoy! xx

(Also fun fact: all of the headers on each fic is my own handwriting!) 

(Note: Planning for 31DOH began in October 2021, writing began December 6, 2020, and writing finished in January 7, 2021.)

(Note 2: I made the graphic for this back in July 2020, when I was still “starrybrock” and I’m too lazy to go back and find the video and stuff to remake it lmao) 

Total Word Count: 27,458

KEY:

📚: Full-length fic

📃: Blurb

📃 Day 1: "To Hell and Back” (Demon!Colby)

you play with the ouija board alone and accidentally summons a demon that can’t get you off his mind.

📃 Day 2: “Holding My Breath”

“i’m telling you, this place is haunted!”

📚 Day 3: “Nipping at Your Nose” (Winter Spirit!Colby)

a certain winter spirit takes an interest in you.

📃 Day 4: “All the Devils are Here”

“how do you kill something that’s already dead?”

📚 Day 5: “God Rest His Soul” (Ghost!Colby)

you move into what was once the trap house and encounter the ghost of a certain emo boy.

📃 Day 6: “Overnight in Haunted Hotel (Gone Wrong)”

“there is no way I’m staying here overnight!”

📃 Day 7: “Bring Me A Dream” (Sandman!Colby) 

he always made sure you had the sweetest of dreams.

📃 Day 8: “A Ring of Salt”

“i saw on tv once that salt will keep them away.”

📚 Day 9: “A Dove in a Golden Cage” (Vampire!Colby)

your vampire decides that you must be his equal.

📃 Day 10: “Where Tragedy Reigns”

“something really horrible must have happened here.” 

📚 Day 11: “Tale as Old as Time” (Beast!Colby)

he was the beast. you were the beauty. could i make it anymore obvious?

📃 Day 12: “To the Other Shore”

“did you just hear that scream?”

📃 Day 13: “Lord Prepare Me” (Angel!Colby)

he would always make sure nothing bad ever happened to you.

📃 Day 14: “Beyond the Veil” 

“you look like you just saw a ghost.” 

📚 Day 15: “A Labyrinth of Perplexities” (sorta Minotaur!Colby)

you are cast into the labyrinth as punishment for a crime you never committed and come face-to-face with the beast that resides in its walls.

📃 Day 16: “What Goes Bump in the Night”

“what do you mean the hotel is haunted?”

📃 Day 17: “By the Light of the Moon” (Werewolf!Colby)

he saw himself a monster, but you saw him for the sweetheart he is.

📃 Day 18: “Twas a Dark & Stormy Night”

“i mean, what’s better than being trapped in a haunted house with a spirit hellbent on attacking us while a storm rages outside, all while we have no cell service and a car that won’t start? oh, right, literally anything else.” 

📚 Day 19: “At Springtide” (Selkie!Colby)

every springtide, a mysterious man comes to visit you.

📃 Day 20: “Nosferatu” 

“please tell me that’s you flickering the lights.” 

📃 Day 21: “Cast a Spell on You” (Witch!Colby)

he cast a love spell, and that’s how he met you.

📚 Day 22: “The Witches Forest”

you can’t believe your boyfriend was stupid enough to run off into the dark and dangerous woods.

📃 Day 23: “Out of this Dull World” (Fairy!Colby)

perhaps you should’ve listened when they said to be careful who you gave your name to.

📃 Day 24: “Where Spirits Meet”

“we’re at a graveyard at three in the morning. what did you think was gonna happen?”

📚 Day 25: “Touched by a God” (Deity!Colby)

sick of the monotony of living on mount olympus, you descend into the underworld and meet the god of the dead. 

📃 Day 26: “Cursed”

“this place is cursed.”

📃 Day 27: “Choke Me Like You Hate Me” (Incubus!Colby)

there are some things that even a sex-obsessed demon can love.

📃 Day 28: “Something Wicked this Way Comes”

“we have to run—now!”

📚 Day 29: “The Song of Sirens” (Mermaid!Colby)

you lament about the pains of being immortal as colby brings you as much comfort as he can muster. 

📃 Day 30: “Seeing is Believing”

“ghosts aren’t real!”

📚 Day 31: “Wildly, Insanely, Infinitely” (Prince Charming!Colby)

you gave up on your happily ever after, until a handsome stranger rides in.

[tigerkirby215]

5e Bard, the Wandering Caretaker build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Evan “Somnicidal” Monteiro. Made for Riot Games.)

From the studio that brought you “Warlock build with no Warlock levels” and “Rogue with no Rogue levels” comes “Bard build with no Bard levels!”

Bard’s a weird champ because he’s so iconic but he looks nothing like what’s standard in League. So do we praise Bard for his uniqueness or criticize him for being so unlike everything else? Well most people like him and so do I; he has a very unique charm to him that I haven’t seen any other game recreate.

Something something Studio Ghibli but I completely understand the desire to play a strange, wandering protector of the world.

GOALS

Traveler's Call - We need to be able to leave gifts for our friends, and have friends traveling with us!

Magical Journey - Walking through walls and disappearing from lane will make you much more unique than the other supports. Shame you can’t fly though.

Tempered Fate - If either your enemies or your allies are being disruptive you can put them in time out while you collect your chimes.

RACE

There aren’t many otherworldly races for our otherworldly caretaker assuming we don’t use the Astral Elf UA which doesn’t really fit anyways but not everyone can be a Variant Human or Custom Lineage, can they? The Kalashtar are a race I don’t use often and they fit Bard decently well. You get two points in Wisdom and while I’d like an extra point in Intelligence with Tasha’s rules more Charisma isn’t going to kill you.

The strange Dual Mind of a wandering caretaker gives you advantage on all Wisdom saves, and your Mental Discipline gives you resistance to Psychic damage too! Additionally you are Severed from Dreams, meaning that while you can be put to sleep you can’t be affected by spells like Dream which... require you to Dream. Yeah I’ll tell you right now this ability affects like 3 abilities in the entirety of Dungeons & Dragons, but it’s still cool!

What is more useful however is your Mind Link: You can speak telepathically to any creature you can see, provided they are within a number of feet equal to 10 times your level. You don’t need to share a language but the creature must be able to understand at least one language. When you use this ability to speak to a creature beyond Ｂａｒｄ　ｎｏｉｓｅｓ you can use your action to give them the ability to speak back telepathically for 1 hour or until you end the effect as an action. To use this ability, the creature must be able to see you and must be within this trait’s range, and you can only give this ability to only one creature at a time too.

In essence this was a very long and complicated way to say “you can type ‘brb grabbing chimes’ in team chat to explain what you’re doing beyond bleeps and bloops.” Oh and speaking of languages you do get one which you can speak beyond Common: I’d opt for Celestial since... well, you are one?

If you insist on making Bard Custom Lineage: Focus on Intelligence and probably give him Darkvision. Honestly there aren’t many feats I want but Gift of the Metallic Dragon actually fits Bard decently well, giving him some Intelligence-based healing capabilities along with some defense with the Guardian rune for your ADC (or yourself.) Alternatively just take Warcaster or Resilient CON idk.

ABILITY SCORES

15; INTELLIGENCE - Bard has some forbidden cosmic knowledge about the universe that allows him to know what to grab and where to go to grab it, clearly.

14; WISDOM - Is that knowledge Intelligence or Wisdom? Better to get both just to be safe.

13; DEXTERITY - Something something Medium... hey wait a minute this isn’t enough for Medium armor!

12; CONSTITUTION - Bard isn’t exactly a tanky support but you do generally build him with tank items.

10; CHARISMA - You’re cute enough but you don’t really talk...?

8; STRENGTH - Most of the magical trinkets you’re grabbing are small and probably stored somewhere safe.

BACKGROUND

The Hermit background exists almost exclusively for a mysterious wanderer who knows too much. Both Medicine and Religion proficiency make perfect sense for Bard, and hey: you can grab that Horn of yours to call your meeps. (And you can learn a language too I guess.)

Hermit is admittedly a bit of a bitch to play because of their Discovery background feature. Basically before the campaign starts all your Magical Journies gave you some insight towards upcoming events that may or may not be of importance. (But probably are.) The Hermit background is basically an elaborate way for the DM to give you plot spoilers and while it can be tough for a DM to manage you as a player get to enjoy the benefits of good warding and knowing where the next dangerous magical artifact will be!

(Artwork by Lucas Parolin and West Studios. Made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - DRUID 1

Starting off as a Druid (the caretakers of the world) for armor proficiencies, as well as proficiency with Arcana and Perception to see magical trinkets and know what they are. You can also read and write Druidic, beeps and boops only other Druids can understand. And finally of course you get Spellcasting!

You learn 2 cantrips from the Druid list like Guidance and Druidcraft, to help both the world and its people. You can also prepare four spells like Cure Wounds and Healing Word to help your ADC in the early game, Entangle to root your foes together, and Detect Magic to... detect magic...

LEVEL 2 - DRUID 2

Second level Druids get to choose their circle and Circle of Dreams Druids are good supports, with Balm of the Summer Court to heal a target within 120 feet as a bonus action. You have a number of d6s equal to your Druid level, and can use a number of these d6s up to half your Druid level when healing allies. And the best part is they also gain 1 temporary hitpoint for every die you use!

You also get Wild Shape to turn into animals. “But Bard doesn’t turn into animals!” Have you ever seen him not turn into animal? But honestly this makes a decent amount of sense for Bard and we need other abilities from Druid more, so just accept the flavor weirdness of being able to turn into a cat. But if you don’t want to turn into a cat you can get your meeps with Wild Companion, using one of your Wild Shape charges to cast Find Familiar without material components. The familiar has to be a Fey, but you can always have a little buddy with you to empower your attacks.

You can also prepare another spell but we’re going to wait for...

LEVEL 3 - DRUID 3

Third level Druids can prepare second level spells like Healing Spirit for your Caretaker’s Shrines, granted they can move around and heal more than once. (Even if they got nerfed since the release of Xanathar’s.) You can also grab Hold Person for a Cosmic Binding on a foe.

LEVEL 4 - DRUID 4

4th level Druids get the first Ability Score Improvement: seeing as we have an uneven DEX score take +1 to your Dexterity and +1 to your Constitution, to move that uneven DEX to CON.

You can also prepare another spell, and learn another cantrip! For your cantrip take Mending to keep the artifacts you find in prime condition, and for your leveled spell Pass Without Trace will help you move out of vision while ganking and collecting chimes.

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 5 - WIZARD 1

Swapping over to Wizard now you get more Spellcasting: 3 cantrips and 6 leveled spells to be precise.

CANTRIPS

Mage Hand can help you grab chimes in hard-to-reach areas.

Mind Sliver is a great cantrip for a support, dealing damage while also making foes weaker to your allies’ attacks.

Shocking Grasp will give you some melee defense, and your Find Familiar meeps can cast it for some devastating pseudo-ranged attacks!

SPELLS

Feather Fall can help if you or your allies slip when someplace high.

Grease is a great non-lethal way to slow down your foes while you grab important artifacts.

Identify will help you... identify artifacts.

Shield is always useful for some defense.

Tenser’s Floating Disk is useful to move things around.

Unseen Servant will give you some magical aid as a caretaker.

You also get Arcane Recovery equal to half your Wizard level. The ability is worded better than I ever could and I don’t want to copy-paste text so just read it from there please.

LEVEL 6 - WIZARD 2

Second level Wizards get to choose their Arcane Tradition and Chronurgy Magic actually fits Bard surprisingly well for a number of reasons down the line.

If your DM doesn’t allow Chronurgy then honestly any Wizard subclass works within reason. I’d personally opt for Order of Scribes as you can reflavor a lot of the abilities from that subclass as Bard-like abilities. (Bard-like being “Bard the character” not “Bard the class.”)

For now you have Temporal Awareness for a boost to initiative equal to your Intelligence modifier, and you can temper fate with Chronal Shift, forcing a reroll on an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw within 30 feet as a reaction.

You can also learn subclass-specific spells like Gift of Alacrity to aid your allies onto the battlefield. Alternatively when you need to enter the battlefield yourself  Protection from Evil and Good will keep you safe from any supernatural powers while you gather chimes.

LEVEL 7 - WIZARD 3

3rd level Wizards get 2nd level spells like Suggestion and Vortex Warp, for both an indirect and direct way to keep people away (or move allies to safety) while you gather chimes.

LEVEL 8 - WIZARD 4

4th level Wizards get another Ability Score Improvement, and seeing as you’re focusing on Wizard levels now more Intelligence would be beneficial. 

You can also learn two more spells and a new cantrip! For your cantrip Chill Touch is useful if you need some antiheal. As for leveled spells Ray of Enfeeblement is a good way to Exhaust a foe, and See Invisibility will help you search for wards or Evelynn.

(Artwork by lee989y on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 9 - WIZARD 5

5th level Wizards learn 3rd level spells like Blink for a somewhat inconsistent way to travel between planes. If you want something more reliable however Counterspell is always useful to keep your friends alive.

LEVEL 10 - WIZARD 6

6th level Chronurgy Wizards can put enemies into a Momentary Stasis, which is like forcing them to fat-finger their Zhonya's Hourglass. You can force a Constitution saving throw on a large or smaller creature within 60 feet of you to put them into stasis. They’re not immune to damage though, and in fact if they take any damage they’ll be snapped out of it. But stopping someone in place for a moment can help your team set up for a kill.

You can also learn 2 new spells like Glyph of Warding to defend relics even when you’re not there, and Tiny Servant for some help from the meeps... or your chimes!

LEVEL 11 - WIZARD 7

7th level Wizards learn 4th level spells like Banishment to properly Temper your foes Fate (stopping them from moving or being attacked), and Dimension Door for a 2-person for a Magical Journey.

LEVEL 12 - WIZARD 8

8th level Wizards get another Ability Score Improvement, which means you can finally max out your Intelligence modifier! That means the best Wizard DC you can get, and more spells prepared. Speaking of prepared spells we’re going to quickly hop back down to 2nd level for Locate Object, which will help you find artifacts. And you can take Arcane Eye. For Wards.

(Artwork by Kelly Aleshire. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 13 - WIZARD 9

9th level Wizards can learn 5th level spells which means you can finally grab Passwall to remove a wall so both enemies and allies can walk through it. If you don’t want people asking questions about your work then Modify Memory will simply allow them to forget who took their magical super-weapon.

LEVEL 14 - WIZARD 10

10th level Chronurgy Wizards can put their magical trinkets to good use with Arcane Abeyance. You can store a spell of 4th level or lower into a bead for one hour. During that hour an ally can activate it as an action to cast a spell as if you had casted it!

There’s plenty of good spells you can store into this bead: Banishment is never bad and neither is Dimension Door. Blink and an upcasted Hold Person are also great. And if you picked up any other spells on your travels consider them too!

Speaking of spells you can learn two more, along with a cantrip! For your cantrip Minor Illusion might not fool much at this level, but it will still allow you to distract people while you usher your meeps around. As for spells if you need some offensive power Animate Objects is in-character and quite powerful. Alternatively Rary's Telepathic Bond will let you keep your whole team in team chat.

LEVEL 15 - WIZARD 11

11th level Wizards can learn 6th level spells like Arcane Gate for probably the longest range and most one-to-one version of Bard’s Magical Journey, and Globe of Invulnerability will protect you and your allies from magical dangers.

LEVEL 16 - WIZARD 12

12th level Wizards get another Ability Score Improvement and honestly: we’ve been sitting on that uneven Constitution score forever by this point. It’s about time to take Resilient Constitution to stop losing Concentration. Could’ve taken this earlier but I felt like maxing out Intelligence was more important for the average player.

And more spells time! True Seeing will give you... true sight to see anything that’s hidden or otherwise disguised, and Guards and Wards will create... guards and wards as a more permanent solution to defend anything important.

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 17 - DRUID 5

I took all those levels in Wizard because I felt that getting Arcane Gate was more important for the build than abilities that are arguably better in the early game. That being said I do still want the 6th level of Dreams Druid so you can enjoy 3rd level Druid spells for now like Revivify (ty Tasha’s.) I mean someone probably already has this spell but this point, but it’s still useful to have as backup.

LEVEL 18 - DRUID 6

The reason I wanted the 6th level of Dreams Druid is because Hearth of Moonlight and Shadow fits Bard well. +5 to Stealth and Perception while at a campfire makes sense for the caretaker, and honestly if I was playing Bard in a lower level campaign I’d probably opt for Druid over Wizard if I couldn’t get Arcane Gate. That being said this build might be better with 16 levels of Wizard idk.

And finally you can learn another spell like Meld Into Stone, so you can go on your own journey hidden from the outside world.

LEVEL 19 - WIZARD 13

13th level Wizards can learn 7th level spells like Crown of Stars to get your meeps to surround you and fight for you. Alternatively Symbol requires a bit of setup but it’s probably the most accurate form of your ultimate we can get.

LEVEL 20 - WIZARD 14

14th level Chronurgy Wizards do what must be done, accessing a Convergent Future to ensure the safety of the world. When you or a creature you can see within 60 feet makes an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw, you can use your reaction to ignore the die roll and decide to make the number rolled either the minimum needed to succeed, or one less than that number. When you do this you gain a level of Exhaustion, and that Exhaustion can only go away with a Long Rest. But sometimes a caretaker has to manipulate reality to save reality.

You can also learn your last 2 spells (assuming you don’t find more in the wild) and by this point I think you can take some utility spells: Teleport will let you take your party wherever you may be needed, and if that place is on another plane? Look no further than Plane Shift.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Rabadon's Deathcap - Your spells known may cap off at 7th level but your spell slots go all the way to 9th. No way to spin it: phenomenal cosmic power is useful no matter how you use it.

Zhonya's Hourglass - Unlike the average caster you can get back spell slots and bring out familiars after a Short Rest, making you far more versatile outside of using all-powerful magics.

Redemption - Sharing in the wealth of magic is always nice to have, and not only are you packed with supportive spells but you can also pass on a 4th level spell in a bead for a friend.

CONS

Vigilant Wardstone - You aren’t the best in head-on fights with a lot of utility spells as well as utility abilities. A support isn’t going to be dishing out DPS is all I’m saying.

Spellthief’s Edge - A Druid with only 16 Wisdom isn’t great. We can’t max out both spellcasting stats and even if you main focus is Wizard levels the 16 Wisdom still hurts your healing capabilities.

Anathema's Chains - Your health is subpar; likely a little over 100. Power Word Kill is deadly, which probably explains why you keep to the shadows as supports do.

But the universe only needs a little push from time to time to keep in shape. Edge your allies towards victory and your enemies towards defeat, all while making sounds only your allies understand to bring them comfort. Sure you may not sing songs or do dances but you’ll still be the best bard in your party’s mind. But... maybe you should tell them you aren’t actually a Bard.

(Artwork by Christian Fell. Made for Riot Games.)

Playing Bard at a lower level?

I will say right now that Dreams Druids get Hidden Paths at level 10 which is a fairly decent recreation of Bard’s E. I simply opted for Arcane Gate as a 6th level Wizard spell which mandated at least 11 levels in Wizard, meaning I wouldn’t have gotten Hidden Paths anyways.

If you want to play Bard in a low level campaign with more of a supportive focus I’d suggest straight Dreams Druid, with the main downside being that you can’t walk through as many walls. If you just want to focus on going wherever you want then go for full Wizard instead and enjoy spells like Passwall while also using the pseudo-supportive spells that Chronurgy provides.

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 5

Through a Glass, Darkly

Welcome back to the Temple of the Earth Defiant where the girls and their magical horses (and one pony!) have found refuge from the strange, twisted, fae creatures that have been chasing them. The statue of Asha Hammerheart that Ost animated last episode is still alive and wrecking house on the remaining harpies and beasts that are foolish enough to keep fighting and the rest soon get the hint and flee. 

Ost does some healing (boosted by the ambient Hallow effect of the temple which gives everyone a short rest) and then, seeing the damage to the temple caused by erosion, starts using Mending to fix things up. Her friends help out too with Sam and Yelle being most effective--Sam by repairing water damage and Yelle by creating tree cover and other druid-y tricks. But of course, we can’t overlook Katja’s crucial addition of carving “A Horse is a Home” into one of the walls of this sacred temple. 

Anyway, the girls are nesting super hard, the horses are having their scrapbooking reviewing club (an insane thing that was established last episode) and then Sam asks a question. Did y’all mention something about a photo of me going viral? Everyone’s like yeah, but don’t worry, you looked super hot. That’s not the part Sam was worried about. What she’s worried about and what all the girls except Zelda don’t really seem to know is that Sam doesn’t really have a social media presence. So like, 180k and climbing views (as decided by a dice roll) isn’t really what she wants. She scrolls through the comments really quick and sees that they’re not awful but one person is like, “Hey that girl looks a lot like that character from that old show”. Which Sam doesn’t love. She says that she’s fine but also that, even without an Insight check, she’s obviously not. 

Sam kind of looks to Zelda to bail her out and Zelda is like, “Hey, I’m gonna delete this video.” The other girls follow suit, even though they don’t quite know what’s happening. When they have to split up to investigate, Sam has Zelda kind of bail her out again and they split up to go check a nest outside--Zelda waving off Danielle when she wants to go with. Ant and Yelle decide to check out a cache of some treasure they saw earlier and Ost and Katja stay with the horses to keep fixing the temple up. Penny initially goes with Ant and Yelle but rushes back to be with Ost and Kat when Ost discovers a hidden lock while she’s fixing a wall.

So, the girls are split up, let’s run all these scenes.

Antiope and Yelle

Ant and Yelle go see the pile of treasure (near the statue of dwarven paladin Yvonna) which they learn is like a “take a penny leave a penny” situation for weapons and items. They were left by adventures who were similarly chased here and you can take what you need as long as you leave something to help others. Like, “Oh no I only have an ice sword and I need flaming arrows.” It doesn’t have to be equivalent exchange, you just need to leave something useful.

In this space, Yelle feels a weird melancholy and like they’re within the watch of something vast and powerful. She tries to check for TK’s presence but rolls low. Antiope leaves her Kalvaxus killing shortsword and takes some really nice, white feather fledged arrows with mirror tips and an ax Kat wants as a present for her dad. Danielle takes a bandolier of potions (3 healing and 2 mystery I believe) and leaves a bunch of mushrooms. Some of them are psychedelic and Ant takes one because this is probably a good time to be high, right?

It’s not messing with her competence obviously though because she rolls a 25 on Primeval Awareness and gets a weird sense, like something is closing in on this place. And like something very powerful is bleeding, which combined with the chaos of the mountains might explain the weird harpies and the cat/dogs. But she’s high so she explains this is a very spacey, stoner way. Probably a good thing she’s with Yelle.

Sam and Zelda

Sam can fly and Zelda can basically walk vertically with her goat legs so they check out the nest. Well, ostensibly that’s what they’re doing. Really they’re just having a heart to heart. Sam thanks Zelda for saving her ass and apologizes profusely for being so short with her. Zelda gives her a huge mid-air hug and says it’s not a big deal because she knows Sam is just lashing out because she’s hurting but Sam says it’s not a good enough excuse and she’s truly sorry. It’s been her coping mechanism for so long but she doesn’t want to be that way. She tells Zelda that the Everpetals are divorcing and that she’s living alone and Zelda says that any one of the girls would be happy to have her stay with them. Sam further explains that this is a big part of the reason she’s been so broken up about the possibility of their group splitting up and Zelda immediately takes out her crystal and texts her “I’m in” in the thread, breaking Sam again. 

Since they’re in heart to heart mode, Sam tells her that she talked to her bio-mom and an agent and she’s not sure what to do. Zelda says that she’s gonna be spectacular no matter what she does and she doesn’t have to do any of them but it’s cool doors are opening for her but also Antiope and Penny are gonna be PISSED that she’s out here making side plans after she gave them so much shit for theirs. Lol, well it’s a nice moment in the meantime and we cut to…

Penny, Ost, and Katja 

While Penny is lockpicking (and also trying to teach one of the horses to lockpick because sure) Katja and Ost go talk to the statue of Asha Hammerheart. It seems to be animated with at least some level of her true consciousness from beyond the grave and that she can kind of woge into her statue when she wants, which is cool. She’s been there for like 250 years so that’s a lot of history to see. 

Ost is maybe the most polite we’ve ever seen her talking to Asha (at least to begin with lol) and they ask her about TK. Asha says she saw TK show up 12 years ago but she never left, at least not through the front door. And then about 2 years ago (right around when they were in the crystals) that’s when the harpy queen showed up. At first they were normal and then they started mutating. Also, recently, Korra (one of the other statues/heroes) saw a woman in the mountains--not TK. 

Ost then takes a page from the book of one St. Kristen Applebees and asks, “Hey. What’s the deal with our god? He never talks to us, does he just suck?” Asha--who has never talked to him even though she’s a martyred hero and literally in dwarf heaven makes some excuses for the guy but Katja scoffs at them. “If people wanna take care of you, they do.” Ost then straight up asks if Logran Soulforger is even real which sets Asha off but Ost isn’t mad AT her, she’s mad FOR her. You go and do all this cool shit to the point where you have this cool ass statue, you fully DIE for him and he doesn’t even say hi? With a 21 Persuasion check, Asha admits that yeah, she would have liked some recognition. She decides she’s gonna go do some talking to some people and leaves after getting Ost’s number but before they can ask more about the woman Korra saw (who they think is Charity). 

OK, that’s all the small group stuff! Everyone comes back as Penny finishes up with the lock and they go down into this room that’s full of polished, precious stones. This is probably where people who were upkeeping the temple stayed. While everyone else is going down, Sam feels some powerful magical pull--much like her episode 1 Lightning Lure--calling her from the top of the stairs so she goes back up. We’ll get back to her in a bit. 

Penny rolls a high check to clock what’s going on down here. First off, she finds flintlock bullets and airship uniform scraps which makes it seem like there was a battle here involving some airship guys from the Baronies. Which is not just the place of origin of Riz’s imaginary Romance Partner. It’s a cluster of nations known for high rates of monarchical turnover and renaissance style intrigue. I’m picturing just a nation of [REDACTED]s from Crown of Candy. 

With all of this stuff, Penny finds an emblem of a billionaire airship mogul named Lord Talcidimir Tallbreeze who is a friend of her dad’s. Yelle is immediately like FUCK billionaires which isn’t plot relevant but it’s nice to know she’s always on brand. 

Oh also, Penny just casually finds the Legendarium so that’s neat. 

To be safe, Ost casts Protection from Energy on Ant (who is the one who knows how to use it) and brings out her Spirit Guardian (who is a combo of her mom, nona, and Asha, with her dad’s rings). Ant checks it out and sees that there are currently no A, B, or C quests in all of Spyre. While Penny cross references the bylaws to see if there’s a way to get around this, Yelle does some druid BS that I still do not understand to use the crystals in the cave to jailbreak this super powerful magical Artifact so they can just have copies on their crystals. While that’s happening, let’s check on Sam. 

Sam goes back up the staircase where she sees Ending who doesn’t look menacing at all, just extremely sad. She’s looking out the mouth of the cave and, when she turns, Sam can see she’s crying blood. 

“What’s wrong?” asks Sam, the acid-tongued but good-hearted. “Can I help you?”

With a 25 Persuasion check to get her to talk, Ending apologizes for scaring her and her friends before. She didn’t mean to. She sometimes forgets that her very nature can be frightening and dangerous to others. She says that when she escaped, she tried to rejoin her sisters but found their mirrors shattered and them gone. Sam thought they escaped but that doesn’t make sense to Ending. If they had, why wouldn’t they have freed her as well?

Sam asks who her sisters were and we finally get true names for Ending and her sisters:

Chrona, Terra, Pyrria, Nira, Zefira, Anima, and herself, Talura (which is what I’ll be calling her now that we know). Talura is the baby, the youngest. Sam realizes she’s talking about the Eidolons and Talura seems surprised and a bit pleased that Sam recognizes them. 

Sam asks if she can hug her and Talura hugs her tightly in a very cold embrace that doesn’t hurt. Downstairs, she hears her friends (Penny specifically) freaking about about the lack of quests but she doesn’t break the hug. 

“My own sisters are struggling right now but I’m gonna stay with you because you don’t know where yours are. But maybe we can find them.”

Talura clocks that the way that Sam is being is her true nature, not the bitchiness she often uses as a shield. Then she starts to talk about her history. That she and her sisters were sealed away when the gods were done with them (Sam can relate to being used and set aside) and the only way out was death. Talura has been crying and looking for her sisters to no avail. Her tears of blood leaking seems to be what caused the monsters to mutate which is in line with what Yelle and Ant were sensing. 

Talura doesn’t think anything could have destroyed her sisters so she’s very confused. Sam offers Talura her Mirror of the Past because it almost knocked out Sam to get god-tier information but Talura presumably won’t have that problem. Talura offers her a boon in exchange for this great kindness but Sam says she doesn’t need any quid pro quo. “This is just because you’re hurting.”

Talura is supremely touched and still wants to do something for her new...friend? Sam accepts the title and says that what she needs is some help on her GED quest. Once she explains what she means, Talura again recognizes Aguefort and is like, Oh, you need a quest? I can totally help with that! As we learned earlier, these guys are kinda genie connected so it’s not super surprising when Talura very happily goes full your wish is my command.

Downstairs, a Class A quest suddenly appears in Spyre on the screen. 

Back upstairs, Talura says that it’s been too long since she got to grant a wish and seems really happy about it. Sam gives her the mirror so she can check what happened to her sisters but when she does, she totally flips out and gets super angry--not at Sam, just at whatever she’s looking at. She can hardly believe it. Sam tries to figure out what’s wrong but she just gets super big and then disappears into a puff of smoke, leaving Sam's mirror on the ground, covered in frost. 

Downstairs, the Class A quest expands across the entire globe and then the Legendarium cracks. Ost’s spirit guardian disappears because of alarm bells ringing in the afterlife. And the girls learn that a Class A quest is a quest that affects the whole MULTIVERSE. Yikes!

So anyway, they girls go upstairs to check on Sam (on a bear that Penny makes because sure) and they see that something clearly just happened with Sam. Yelle asks if she’s good and Sam is like yeahhhh I don’t think ANYONE is good right now. Sam seems like she’s about to cry and Antiope instantly forgets all the petty bullshit going on between them and rushes to make sure she’s not hurt. 

Sam gives the girls a rundown of what happened and Yelle concretely puts together what I said earlier about Talura’s tears messing with nature. 

Sam wants to check her mirror to see what Talura saw and Brennan says she can do it the safe way with risk of failure of the surefire way with risk of personal harm. She, of course, picks door 2 and rolls a 13 on her con save which means she rises into the air like Storm from X-Men, eyes wide, and then instantly passes out and goes into shock. Antiope is there to catch her as she does. 

Also, she looks SUPER hot while falling on a 31. Honestly, it’s a shame she doesn’t allow herself a social media presence. 

Anyway, we’ll get to what she sees in a bit. Yelle and Ant make sure she’s OK (she is, but the has to be knocked out for this or she won’t be able to handle it). 

Penny tells them what she knows about each Eidolon from her earlier research which is what element each goes with:

Chrona: Time (Related to astral and elemental planes) 

Terra: Earth

Pyrria: Fire

Nira: Water

Zefira: Air

Anima: Life

Talura: Death 

They also talk about TK never leaving via the front door and all this airship stuff being around. Maybe she left out the top of the mountain on an airship? Katja has the hookup with this Tal guy (she’s met him when she was younger) so they decide they need to check it out once Sam is good. 

The girls fix the Legendarium and Ost, when she goes to pray for her spells for the night, doesn’t pray to her usual god. She prays to Asha. And not only does she get her spells, she also gets a new one--Commune. 

And now let’s get to what Sam is seeing in her Vision Coma. 

She was told by Talura that the only way out of the mirrors given to them by the gods was death. And what Talura saw that drove her to do whatever multiverse threatening thing that she did was every one of her sisters walking out of their mirrors and choosing death. I will specifically highlight that the oldest sister leaves almost immediately with a small, “Oh,” of realization and Anima, the closest sister to her seems terrified before coming to a joyful realization and leaving.

And that’s the end of the episode! Join us next week when apparently there is talk of a masquerade ball?????? Brennan, you shouldn’t have!   

Superlatives 

Sam: Most Likely to Accidently Snag a Brand Deal

Did you guys ever read the Greek myth of Cupid and Psyche? Where Psyche was born so hot that it was basically a curse and she was miserable because she was so hot that Aphrodite hated her? That’s Sam. She is incapable of almost dying in a non-aesthetic way. It’s like a Pantene commercial every time. This is my favorite running gag.

Random Thoughts

Man, I have so many feelings about Sam. She’s such a BITCH in so many ways but it’s so obvious that she has a good heart. Every time she has an opportunity to be nice with no gain--helping Lola find her dog, magically turning the pages for the horses during book club, fully refusing a boon from Talura--she does. And I’m glad she gave Zelda such a sincere apology and didn’t let the extenuating circumstances absolve her because she said some pretty uncalled for things. But at her core she’s so kind and I want only good things for her. 

Also those of you who know me from my FH recaps know I’m a messy bitch for sister stuff so Talura and Sam both referring to the other maidens as her sister had me dead. You can tell when something in this show is f’ing me up when I just start directly quoting instead of paraphrasing. 

Katja being richer than Helio but having no idea what any of the brands Ost is mentioning are is peak comedy.  

As is Ant’s response to the take and penny leave a penny translation from Ost, “No, Penny didn’t come with us.”

Ost: I get service in the afterlife.

You could really tell which of the players watched Sophomore Year because the Baronies came up and all of them went into fight or flight immediately. 

Very Elsa vibes from Sam during the top of the scene with Talura. (Sam is, of course, a better sister but we simply do not have time to get into my feelings on Frozen 2 right now).

I was wondering why this season was called just “The Seven” when it dropped initially. Like, was it snappier? Did they not want to use the word “maiden”? But they still call themselves the Seven Maidens in the show so it’s probably not that. Now I’m wondering if it’s just to parallel the 7 of them w/ the 7 Eidolons. 

So it seems clear based on the reactions of the first and sixth sisters that they didn’t just “go gently into that good night” as Ant would say and ditch Talura. It seems like they figured something out. Also Brennan isn’t really a “and then they all died, the end” kind of DM, you know? Credit to my friend @camwritery for getting here before I did but the gods said the only way out was death and she is death so you know? Those def seem like puzzle pieces that go together. 

The only crit rolled this episode is a 1 by Penny which she gets to reroll as a halfling. 

[ahatintimepieces]

Threading Moonlight

Here is the drabble I wrote for @smieska! It’s a prequel in which Luka makes a deal with a mysterious puppeteer in order to escape the frozen cellar his wife trapped him in, with the intent to freeze him solid, and to save their daughter from the encroaching cold. The puppeteer requires that Luka give up something important, but Luka is more than willing when that something seems broken beyond repair...

Content Warnings: Body horror, child neglect/abuse (check end of tags for more detail on both)

Total word count: 3,045

Something shifted inside the cardboard box and Luka jolted awake. The ice seeping into his wrists sharpened at his squirming and he let out a gasp that drifted from his lips in a frosted spiral. He settled back against the stone wall. He metered his breathing to keep it shallow and his movement scarce.

Glancing through the frosted tips of his chestnut curls, he peered up at his raised arms. If he tried to flex his fingers, they didn’t even twitch. But from what he could tell, they didn’t look frostbitten, but rather, it was like the chains of ice had melded with his wrists, turning flesh and bone into cold crystals. The edges of his palms seemed blue like lakes frozen from within as cold crept towards his pale fingers.

Vanessa had warned that she would make him stay. That she would keep him always. Was this how she would accomplish it, then? If he was a statue of snow and ice, would she be satisfied that he would never leave her?

Something wet dripped down his cheek and he flinched back, thinking there was a leak from the ceiling. But when he looked up, all he saw were dry stones and wooden beams. More droplets dripped down his chin and he glanced down as his breath hitched. Salt water pooled on the ground between his crossed legs.

He sniffed as the tears trickled. Each sudden gasp threatening to swell into sobs jostled his aching wrists. But the sharpness of the ice was minute compared to the heartbreak that cleaved through his chest.

How many more tears would he have to shed before he froze solid? How long until he was numb to even the feeling of his torn heart? He stared at the beam of pale moonlight that trailed through the window across from him in the cramped cellar, which was filled with storage boxes bulging with items he and Vanessa had collected over the years. Counting the particles of dust waltzing back and forth through the moonbeam, he nearly drifted back into his blank stupor when, again, something thumped inside the cardboard box.

Luka’s heart skipped a beat as his head snapped towards the box. With silent tears still streaming down his cheeks, he watched as the cardboard box tilted back and forth. The folded flaps suddenly burst open the same time that the box tilted too far and dropped to its side.

Hattie’s favorite toys—all the ones Luka had made for her—tumbled out in waves.

Pinning himself further against the wall, Luka eyed the mound of plushies and wooden figures with apprehension as he waited for a rat or something to appear. A bouncy ball shifted as a shadowy object emerged from within the cardboard. As the rubber ball plunked against the stone and skipped over before rolling against his shoe, the shadowy object stepped into the moonlight and waved its mitten hand.

Luka’s heart flew into his throat as he stared into the black button eyes of a doll that he had made to look like a prince in one of Hattie’s favorite picture books. The doll prince had hair made of chestnut colored yarn and wore a felt crown on his head. Two yarn strands stood out through the crown like a cowlick and his puffy striped sleeves and rounded purple boots added to his princely attire. His round nose and the rosy blush on his cheeks were his only other features, leaving him primarily expressionless as his head flopped down. His mitten hand kept waving.

While Luka stared at the prince plush, the air around it shimmered as spindly, blue fingers appeared around the doll, revealing the one making it stand tall and wave in the first place.

“Good morning, my weeping friend,” a hollow voice as faint as mist greeted from the forming apparition. “Or, good evening, I suppose. Whichever!” A crystalline giggle like the plinking of marbles came from behind a toothy grin painted onto a crescent mask.

Luka blinked through his tears, examining the floating creature who stretched out close to the ground, but hovered just inches above. He had no legs, but rather a ghostly tail the same color as the golden-orange harvest moon. It nearly looked like strings of the pale moonlight kept the humanoid creature suspended. When the creature shifted, the sound of clacking wood trickled through the cellar. His movements were rigid.

“What’s the matter?” he wondered, dropping the plush prince and letting it fall limp against the pile of toys before gliding over to Luka and causing him to jolt. “Your mouth isn’t frozen, is it?”

Stiff fingers pinched Luka’s cheeks and he winced back with a gasp. Fresh tears continued to spill out and dribbled onto the creature’s joints, which creaked.

“Wh-who are you?” Luka stuttered out as he shivered. His breath turned milky white, and the creature tilted his head back to watch the wisps trail upward.

“Call me Moonjumper.” The creature jumped away. His chest jerked back, and an arm folded in front of his chest while the other remained at his side. As he swayed, his jointed body, not unlike that of a puppet, clacked quietly. “And you, my weeping friend?” His voice was airy with laughter, though it was unnerving how the painted, patterned eyes and wide grin on his mask did not move with his bouncing cadence.

“Luka.” He leaned back against the stone with a sigh. A sharpness pressed deeper into his wrist and palm. The ice spread and his tears streamed down his cheeks, staining the collar of his pale dress shirt that was already soiled with sweat and dirt.

“You seem to be in quite the predicament, Luka friend,” Moonjumper made a sound similar to a tongue clicking against the roof of a mouth. “And that won’t do. I can’t play with you if you’re frozen. So, I’m here to make a deal.” He waved his hand and yellowed parchment appeared with a flash of moonlight.

Luka’s eyes narrowed at the parchment as it was flown over to him. He briefly scanned it but didn’t register anything beyond words and phrases about a kingdom and magic. Something about the horizon. And an invitation. While Moonjumper hovered over him, Luka vaguely wondered if he had finally perished in the cellar.

But he didn’t think ghosts could cry or see their breath.

“I’m sure you’d like to be released, would you not?” Moonjumper offered, tilting his head to the side. “Would like to walk free, unburdened by chains.”

If he wasn’t dead, perhaps he was hallucinating. Luka glanced away from Moonjumper and stared at the tumbled box of Hattie’s things. His chest tightened as he thought about Hattie. His breath hitched. He forgot himself for a moment and tried to bring his hand to his cheek to wipe at the swell of tears, but he only managed to cut the ice deeper into his skin. He winced with a gasp, but he did not take his eyes off of the box.

Moonjumper turned his head to follow Luka’s gaze. There was a pause before Moonjumper shifted stiffly between Luka and the box. He bent down, leaning his grinning mask towards Luka’s sniffling features. Luka edged back, avoiding the apparition’s gaze.

“Or perhaps you simply wish to be reunited with your daughter again?” Moonjumper asked.

Luka snapped his head up and looked into Moonjumper’s painted red eyes. A chuckle came from behind the mask as his whole body jostled as awkwardly as a puppet suspended from strings.

“There we go,” Moonjumper twittered before straightening and motioning the contract over. “Of course, when you’re free, you can rescue the little one and leave together. She cried you know, when you weren’t there to tuck her in.”

“Hattie.” Luka scrambled to shift his legs underneath himself. He ignored the burning in his wrists and pleaded as tears blurred his vision, “is she safe? Pl-please tell me she’s safe.” His voice cracked with desperation.

“Safer than you, at the moment,” Moonjumper shrugged his shoulders and caused his lithe arms to clack. “But if you make a deal with me, I can give you magic that can melt your chains and allow you and your little one to go free.”

“I’ll do anything,” Luka swore, leaning forward and towards the contract. Whether this creature was a hallucination or not, he’d make any bargain to ensure his daughter was safe.

“My price is steep, I’ll admit.” Moonjumper’s voice softened. “After ten years, I’ll come to collect you and so many of my toys forget that. Oh, and you’ll have to give up your heart.”

“Take it,” Luka said quickly as tears spilled out. He coughed out a ragged gasp before continuing in a voice as broken as his chest. “Take it, please. I don’t—” he sniffed as sobs structured his voice, “—I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

“Really?” Moonjumper’s head tilted. “Usually that’s considered too high a price to pay.”

“Are you going to let me help Hattie or not?” Luka tried to scowl but his features crumbled as another sob bled from his chest. “Please,” he choked out. “Please take it away.”

“Very well!” Moonjumper said lightly as the contract drifted underneath Luka’s chin. Tears dribbled onto the dotted line and that must have been enough to count as his signature because shortly after, the contract glowed.

Strands of moonlight laced around the contract like chains and then disappeared in a curtain of light. Before Luka could react, Moonjumper tore through the curtain and pressed his hand against his chest.

Luka gasped, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt a pressure over his ribs. A brief flicker of regret caused him to press against the stone wall, to recoil from Moonjumper’s touch.

Was he truly alright with this? With losing his heart?

Fingers as stiff as wood sunk into his chest and wrapped around his splintered heart. A surge of the despair he’d been feeling since Vanessa first threw him into the wretched cellar drowned him and he whimpered as he struggled to breathe.

“Take it, please,” he begged. He felt a tug on his heartstrings and a whine pulled from his lips as a wave of tears pushed out.

“Almost done, Luka friend,” Moonjumper muttered. “Brace yourself.”

A snap resounded through the cellar and Luka slumped like a puppet with snipped strings. The pressure was extracted from his chest, and he exhaled as Moonjumper backed away.

Luka’s tears ceased.

A burning kindled in the cavity left behind in his ribs and he began to hyperventilate. Suddenly desperate for oxygen, the crackling flames pushed out and heat spread through his body with each gasped breath.

Water dripped from his frosted hair tips and his chestnut curls flared liquid hot until they grew.  His locks faded into cinders with a dark violet sheen that spiked out below his shoulders. Heat licked his teeth and he hissed before opening his mouth as his top canines lengthened into sharp, polished points.

Squirming against his restraints, Luka panted as whistling steam emanated from his wrists. His previously unresponsive fingers twitched into elongated claws. He gritted his teeth, piercing his lip with his fangs as a final pulse of flame pushed to his palms. Blue embers burned in his hands and the ice clinging to his wrists shattered before evaporating into steam.

His hands dropped and the embers flickered out as Luka slouched against the wall. His chest rose and fell rapidly with the flame still crackling in his chest. His heated exhales no longer turned to mist.

“There you go!” Moonjumper twittered as he cupped a pulsing, torn lump in one hand and scooped down to retrieve the prince doll in the other.

“What happened to me?” Luka held out his trembling hands before himself, flexing pale fingers that ended in claws.

“You gave up your heart,” Moonjumper answered simply. While floating in the air, he drifted into a sitting position and set the prince doll into his lap. He unbuttoned the prince’s tunic and placed the torn lump onto the doll’s chest.

A strand of moonlight drifted over to Moonjumper’s fingers. He snapped the graceful thread and the cut end bled scarlet. The red crept across the length of the thread as Moonjumper summoned a sewing needle. The string thrust through its eye and the needle dove towards the lump.

Luka jolted when the needle pierced the lump and then the doll. His heart, severed into two, was methodically embroidered into the doll’s chest. Though the scarlet string strung the two pieces into one, the stitches holding the heart together only highlight how terribly broken it was.

Once Luka’s heart was embedded into the doll, Moonjumper knotted the ends of the thread and buttoned the tunic closed, concealing the heart. Without warning, he tossed the prince doll towards Luka, who fumbled to catch it.

“I thought you wanted to keep it.” Luka wrinkled his nose, holding out the toy like it was some mangled catch a cat brought in.

“I just said you had to live without it,” Moonjumper corrected. “What you do with it is up to you. I thought that would be an easy way to carry it.”

“Why would I carry around a doll?” Luka furrowed his brows.

“It’s your daughter’s favorite toy, yes?” Moonjumper tilted his head, his painted smile unwavering.

“Hattie!” Luka bolted to his feet. He clutched the doll in his hand. A faint pulse against his palm urged him forward.

“And with that, I’ll take my leave. But don’t forget, Luka friend,” Moonjumper chuckled as his form began to waver and fade into moonlight, “I’ll come back in ten years’ time to collect my toy!” His laughter drifted on the shimmer he left behind. Strands of gentle light flittered back to the beam streaming from the window.

Luka scowled at the moonlight. He didn’t understand what Moonjumper meant about collecting his toy ten years later, but he didn’t care.

He had to leave. He had to leave with Hattie and escape.

Luka flew towards the stairs leading out of the cellar, but his gangly legs tripped on the box of toys, and he skidded against the ground. Grunting, his hand clenched around the doll as he scrambled back to his feet.

The manor was silent with Vanessa in bed. He easily crept around the squeaky floorboards and hurried to the nursery.

The flame in his chest flared when he saw the icicles jutting around the door to the nursery, sealing it off while emitting a frosty mist. Blue embers flared from his palms and though they licked the doll and the heart trembled, it did not catch fire.

But the ice did hiss as it melted from Luka’s touch.

Forgetting to be quiet in his ire, Luka shoved open the door with a grunt before seeing that the room was ice free. But his misted breath told him how cold it was.

“Kid!” Luka hurried over to the crib.

Hattie lay inside, shivering under her blanket with flushed, chubby cheeks and eyelids puffy from crying. Her features were scrunched with discomfort in her sleep.

“No, no, no.” Luka reached into the crib.

His embers flickered softly. In her sleep, she leaned towards the source of heat, but when her eyes popped open, she shrunk back in fear. She let out an ear-piercing screech and Luka jolted.

“Hattie, Hattie, it’s me,” Luka whispered, leaning over. His violet-black hair slipped from his shoulder and caught his eye. He ran his tongue across his fangs and remembered how much he had changed. Immediately he held out the prince doll to Hattie and danced it around to distract her from her tears.

“Papa looks different, but it’s still me,” he promised urgently as he listened for any sign of Vanessa.

Hattie continued wailing until a shriek came from his and Vanessa’s bedroom.

“Shut up already!” Vanessa’s muffled voice screamed. Ice jutted from the underneath the door and a brisk puff of air pushed into the room. Luka froze as fear spiked with the doll trembling in his hand.

Hattie whimpered and snatched the prince doll from Luka, startling him out of his petrified state. She hugged the doll and buried her face into the plush, hiccupping as she hushed her crying.

“That’s better!” Vanessa snapped from the other side of the door.

Luka’s flames burned as he sneered at the fresh ice. But all manner of threats and ire he wanted to lob at her perished when he remembered just how powerful she was and how his priority was keeping Hattie safe.

“Hattie,” he whispered in an even quieter voice after a stretch of silence. “Please, kiddo, it’s me.”

He stifled the cerulean flames in his hands, but his palms still radiated heat as he reached for Hattie’s cheek. She peeked at him from behind the prince doll. While she initially recoiled from his clawed hands, he slowly pressed his soft palm to her cheek. She relaxed.

“P-papa?” Her lip trembled.

“That’s right,” Luka managed a smile for her, unintentionally baring his fangs. “Papa’s here.”

She sniffled and he shushed her as softly as he could.

“It’s okay,” he whispered as he scooped her up. “We have to be silent, okay?”

Pressing into his chest, her eyelids grew heavy as his warmth lulled her. She still clutched the prince doll in one tiny fist and her other grabbed onto a strand of his dark violet hair. He winced when she tugged on his scalp.

“There we go, see?” he muttered as he rocked her in his arms. “It’s just me.”

The prince doll pulsed between them, urging him to be warm with more than just the flame in his chest.

With Vanessa back asleep, Luka hurried to pack a bag with supplies and money while Hattie slept in his arms, toasty and safe as she held the prince doll. When everything was packed and Hattie was bundled up in an extra blanket, they fled the manor and Luka never looked back.

But the prince doll, while Hattie slept and Luka ran with his eyes forward, waved goodbye to the manor without the assistance of any apparition. The stitches in its chest tightened.  

[aerltarg]

Maybe this is a stupid question, buuuuut:

I just can't imagine a world that Rhaegar comes back from the Trident, wins the war and becomes king. No, I'm not a anti Rhaegar, matter of fact I like him very much, I'm just can imagine how would Lya, little Jon, this whole affair, would settle in the capital. The norm that fics (at least those I read) tend to follow is to make Rhaegar:

1. A douche, paranoid and destiny-obessed king.

2. Completely incompetent, aloof monarch, that deep down has a heart of gold, but can't really be understood.

I mean, isn't he supposed to be a scholar since he was a kid? What's are your thoughts about it?

oh, yeah, i can totally understand this! it's is the whole point in canon actually, "the wrong man came back from the trident". you would expect a hero win against his antagonist and have a happy ending w his lady love but it doesn't happen. instead the subversion happens to them with rhaegar being killed by robert who becomes obviously a shitty king and lyanna dying after him. they were never supposed to have happy ending, they were created as tragic and doomed and dead from the beginning for the whole plot to start, jon to have his parentage mystery and dany to take the passed baton as the last dragon, prophesied savoir and the heir who has to carry entire house on her back now.

as for the realistic rhaegar wins aus that's the difficult question. tbh we just don't know enough abt their situation, plans and wishes. you see, e.g. in agot we can be right in ned's head and see his motivations, what he was thinking abt, what he was planning, what he was hoping to do. but if his story was told the way rhaegar's was i bet he would have his own crowd of haters and ~intellectuals~ jumping out every two seconds w their "hot takes" how actually all hints abt what rlly happened (ned being a good man w his own sense of honour, justice and experiences affecting him and the deal w cersei's children) doesn't matter and he was an ambitious prick, planned to grasp the power by being joffrey's regent and make his daughter sansa queen. (you can actually insert there any bullshit and still don't reach the level of stupidity of such "hot takes" this fandom loves so much lmao). also he would be blamed to the hell and beyond for being too stupid and not foreseeing the future and actions of other ppl bc ofc after everything happened it's so easy to say what was so obvious to notice. also they would say that the deaths of his men and horrible fates of his kids are 100% his fault and even straight up say he killed them lmao. i can rant abt it for hours so yeah. this is a situation w too many unknown variables bc it depends too much on actions of too many characters we don't know enough abt. the only thing it's possible to tell for sure is the fact that there couldn't be any perfect solutions since things got too complicated at this point.

such fics as you've mentioned tho are just a part of this dumb fanon where rhaegar is "too prophecy obsessed"/"incapable of love"/shrodinger's rhaegar both smart and stupid at the same time/whatever/all of this combined lmfao. the man was notably intelligent from the early age as you've absolutely rightly mentioned, his guesses abt himself being tptwp have nothing to do w egocentrism as some parts of the fandom would want us all to believe unless he wouldn't be so reasonable abt it and later on, after so many years, wouldn't have changed his mind and thought his son could be tptwp.

and literally fuck all antis that think you shouldn't consider prophecies that hold real power in this fantasy world lol. you know, aegon the conqueror was said to be motivated (or at least partly) to unify westeros by the prophecy and still got the treatment of perfect/maximum close to perfect figure of a leader everyone should look up to from the narrative and grrm. prophecy obsessed much, huh? i don't even talk abt all these parallels between him and rhaegar grrm put there not for bitches to ignore them completely! and i will never get tired of reminding that dismissing prophecies is UNWISE for targaryens of all people. the house whose story is built on the dream of young daenys and her father aenar that listened to her despite common sense (or what local "anti magic"/"anti prophecies" clowns consider to be common sense). targs would be as dead as the rest of dragonlords if not for daenys the dreamer. who else in the world has as many reasons to take prophecies seriously as them?

yet antis out there act as if rhaegar is one dimensional weirdo whose every character trait is abt mf ~prophecy obsession~. like how can they miss one of the main points so badly?? the game of thrones distracts ppl from the real danger beyond the wall, yk, the one rhaegar was aware of and meant to deal with. there wouldn't be such a problem if he became king and had as many years of head start before ice zombies apocalypse as ignorant bobby b did. rhaegar had to die just for westeros to sink in shit and our main heroes to save everyone to make this story more epic LMAO

so yeah, too many ppl portray rhaegar as this one dimensional robotic creature without any knowledge of what feelings are idk even for what reason. it seems these ppl can't read for real bc rhaegar was not only intelligent af as well as dutiful ("it seems i must be a warrior" but "he loved his harp more than his lance") but also. ugh emotional?? my boy had constant emo sessions w brooding at ruins of summerhall, sleeping out there beneath the stars all alone and writing songs that made all women cry. does it sound as someone who "isn't capable of love" lol? folks act as if he was completely heartless from the day he was born (bc he didnt play w other kids ig??) but in reality their emotional range is less than the one of a spoon in comparison to rhaegar's lol. i'm not even gonna address the horrible attitude of demonizing him for his implied depression, vile clowns never listen to themselves when they talk abt targaryens and their "madness".

tldr; these fics are mostly lame af and suck at characterization if they're making rhaegar like that lol. anyway his character isn't abt being a good or a bad king, it's abt being a would-be-king for characters in books and readers in reality to sigh over his tragic aura and pretty aesthetic abt how it could've been. however, grrm clearly doesn't write rhaegar as evil or incapable as some parts of the fandom would want to try to persuade others. realistically speaking in the scenario where he wins there couldn't be any perfect decisions but it's a territory of speculations on thin air and lit nothing more since canon doesn't provide us with enough information to rlly theorize anything instead of building biased headcanons some ppl call "analysis".

but remember what barristan said about rhaegar while practically watching him all his life, from a literal baby to the man grown:

“I know little of Rhaegar. Only the tales Viserys told, and he was a little boy when our brother died. What was he truly like?”

The old man considered a moment. “Able. That above all. Determined, deliberate, dutiful, single-minded.” (ASOS, Daenerys I)

“Prince Rhaegar’s prowess was unquestioned, but he seldom entered the lists. He never loved the song of swords the way that Robert did, or Jaime Lannister. It was something he had to do, a task the world had set him. He did it well, for he did everything well. That was his nature. But he took no joy in it. Men said that he loved his harp much better than his lance.” (ASOS, Daenerys IV)

[midnightmoonkiss]

Esoteric.

Witch!Izuku Midoriya X Fem!Reader

Summary: What was a witch, exactly? Someone who casts spells? Dabbled in medicine? Fought in battles? You didn’t know. That was, until you met one.

WARNINGS!: Soft!Dom!Izuku, Face-sitting, Fingering, Potion-play

Category: Smut

Word Count: 7.3k (more than half is like.. pure smut..)

A/N: The final day of the Izumonth Collab!

P.S. I really love Witch!Izuku, idk if you can tell,,, Also, I made the witch!collage above! ‘Tis just to suck you into the mood. And sorry this was.. a bit late.. heheh,,,

Just To Clarify:

You’re both consenting adults

Witches, though actually fairly rare, are seen as common beings

Witches aren’t human

Fantasy-ish au!

Tag List:

@coupsieddori​ @desia2​ @strwbrry-lia​ @my-bnha-things​

Every castle has a witch.

It’s been that way for as long as you, or anyone else, could remember.

It was normal.

Mundane to some.

Just something you’d hear about time and time again.

They were workers, just like you. 

But yet, that never stopped your sense of wonder.

They never were in plain sight, not for a peasant such as yourself, anyway.

It always brought up so many questions whenever you’d stop to think about it. 

What did they look like?

Were they nice, or wicked?

How did their magic work?

What did they wear?

Depending on the kingdom, most witches were treated like royalty, especially those who worked in castles.

Of course, how could someone so powerful not have such a title?

It made you question if it was given out of fear, or respect.

It wasn’t until you met the witch of Thidel castle, the ever-so-generous Izuku Midoriya, that your questions were all willingly answered.

You truly weren’t anticipating meeting him during such a catastrophe of a day. Looking back, it was quite embarrassing.

You were the baker’s assistant, tasked with making the batter to elaborate sweets for the King’s ball that evening.

The flour was freshly ground from the mill, the vanilla was as pure as a white daisy, the sugar ever-so-sweet, eggs fetched that morning, everything was perfect.

In fact, everything was running all nice and smoothly, until the King decided to ask for triple the amount of baked goods he had originally requested.

Not only did that mean running to town and back in shoes already falling apart, but that also meant stirring and stirring and stirring until it felt as if your arms were on fire and about to melt off.

You were covered in ingredients and sweat, the other bakers and assistants were running around, spilling things on each other, and making large messes as they pulled their hair out to get everything done on time.

It was chaos.

And that’s when he showed up.

You forgot what he was originally there for, herbs, perhaps?

Batter smudged on your cheek, you were carrying a large sack of flour to the mixing station when the door opened.

You slipped comedically on an egg that had fallen on the floor, and of course, you had to slam into this sudden brick wall of a man.

White powder flew everywhere, and the clock stopped in your head as you watched in horror as the last bag of flour you had was just about to spill all over the dirty cobblestone.

That’s when you saw it for the first time.

Magic.

He had simply flicked his wrist and all of the flour was back in its bag, and such a high ranking individual was on his knees, sputtering apologies to you.

To you, of all people.

A lowly peasant.

It felt unreal.

But that was how you met him.

He looked up and the first image he had of you forever imprinted in his head was wild (H/C) hair coated in sweat and flour, cheeks smudged with chocolate and dried batter, eyes wide with panic, and cheeks a burning red.

He never let you live it down, the bastard.

That night at the ball, you met him again. He had the gall to note how you cleaned up fast, all while sheepishly smiling at you like you were the only girl in the room.

You wanted to punch him at the time. Or die of embarrassment. He was still the witch after all, and never before had someone so high class spoken to you before. You were filled with so many emotions that night, you were sure you were going to throw up.

Instead, you smiled, offered him a pastry, and walked away.

He just had to follow you, though.

His reason being, “I was looking for some entertainment at such a boring event.”

It had made you laugh, as IF you were any entertainment. From then on, though, after having spent an entire night chatting the time away, he was as hooked on you as you were with him.

Nowadays, you got to frequent his studies often.

A privilege not many had, as apparently- witches were quite stubborn with letting people into their sanctuary and touching their things.

Perhaps it was a possessive trait of theirs, one that kept them from misplacing important potions, books, and ingredients, but nevertheless you were absolutely honored to be allowed somewhere so.. otherworldly.

The King and his youngest son were the only ones besides yourself allowed in.

But stepping inside would always be a slap to the face, no matter how many times you actually did enter.

It wasn’t exactly clear to you how he did it, or how the witch before him did it, but the small study tucked away on the east wing of the castle wasn’t a small study at all.

The old, heavy brown door was signed with words of a language unknown to you and others, the hinges creaking ever so slightly as you pulled it open, only to be met with a two-story home inside.

Your nose was always immediately hit with the earthy scent of rain and plants, no doubt from the plethora of the heavenly greens hanging about the place, glowing orbs of light hovering near the ones doomed to never touch true sunlight.

The place was cluttered yet neat, parchments piling up in one corner, yet another where they laid organized.

It was almost like a different world crafted by steady and loving hands.

Old maps were tacked to one of the walls, scribbled writing and red circles pointing out certain areas of the land beyond the one you knew.

Witches apparently had their own realm, or at least, “a pocket of Earth hidden away from humans by magic”, as Izuku had thoughtfully explained one night as a thunderstorm raged on outside.

Old books smelling of age are scattered about, the large bookshelf barely able to contain them all.

Candles lit by a green flame surround a large wooden table, herbs such as chamomile, ginger, ginseng, valerian, lavender, and saffron are neatly placed by a bowl, wrapped in bundles. Clearly, he was going to try and make some more anti-depressant mixture for the prince again.

He was more of a naturalist when it came to the sick, unless worse came to worse.

He was essentially a glorified doctor who was far more knowledgeable on plants rather than bone structure and types of sickness.

He was a sweetheart who helped all he could.

Hell, he was even taken to some battles as a last defense.

Despite looking so innocent, with his baby fat still hugging his cheeks and freckles splattered all about, the definition of youth, he was quite powerful.

Scarily so.

You had heard hushed whispers from fellow servants about how he had taken down armies alone multiple times before, coming back with nothing but burns and a broken bone or two.

He was terrifying to those who didnt take a mere second to glance at him.

But those who did were greeted with nothing but a warm smile and the fleeting wave of a busy man.

It was a mystery how you had managed to capture his undivided attention, enough so that he had made you his, the plain-looking bracelet made from leather string holding an emerald sealed with magic signifying that.

You were untouchable.

Once gutted with fear, you walked the polished grounds of the castle freely.

After all, not even a King would so much as dare to harm witches beloved, lest he wanted to be burned alive by immortal flames and sent to the ninth level of hell.

A level solely made by strong users of the past, the ones who carved the road for witchery, having bent time itself to do so.

Truly terrifying how powerful they could be, but yet it was so mystifying.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t spent nights wide awake listening to him ramble about their history, about how they came to be and how they flourished.

They didn’t start off as human-like creatures, they started off as a ball of magical light in a land filled with nothing.

It was said that witches built the Earth from the ground up until greed overtook the lands and the humans overpopulated them.

And yet, they work harmoniously together.

Humans fearful of their power, and witches just naturally seeking to help people and continue their craft in harmony with all those who share the lands they grew from scratch.

 It truly was a peaceful existence they led, you couldn’t help but admire it.

Just like you always have.

Pulling the door shut, it locked behind you as you stepped over some paper with doodles, knowing better than to mess with his disorganized things without him in the room to see it.

Speaking of, you were asked here this evening, something about wanting to try out a new potion he had made.

He was always making new things, an inventor of sorts, but never one to have you as a test subject.

Of course, it piqued your curiosity and had you quickly cleaning up the mess you had made in the kitchen when the day was officially over just to get here as fast as you could.

The large window covered in vines holding a small couch beneath it glistened with the light of a crescent moon, casting the room lit with an array of colors in a cool glow.

Smoke from the candles blurred the light, only to collide with the wooden floor above them.

Humming, you grabbed an orb sitting on a side table,  holding it in the moonbeams so it would absorb its brightness. A candlestick of sorts made from magic. You weren’t going to risk going into complete darkness again.

He was obviously not in his work area, so he was probably upstairs.

And so, as quietly as you could, you crept up the old stairs, holding your breath and biting your lip whenever you came to a creaky step. You wanted to scare him, or at the very least surprise him

He was so easy to scare, and he always made the cutest of noises when you did it.

It was hard not to try everytime you were given the chance.

Once you made it to the top, fingers clasped tightly around the carved wooden railing, you looked around the darkened hallway, searching for the room he’s most likely to be in.

None of them had any lights on, which was eerily odd.

He never was much a fan of complete darkness.

It only raised questions as to if he wasn’t here yet, or if he was leaving you high and dry.

No, he would never do such a thing. Perhaps you’re early?

Chewing on your thumbnail, you stood dead at the top of the stairs, waiting for a sign that he was here.

“BOO!” 

“ARGGHH!” you shrieked, jumping away from the noise only to have your back slammed against the wall.

Horrified, you snapped your head to the direction of the noise, only to find a giddy Izuku covering his mouth with a leather-gloved hand, holding away his giggles.

Huffing, you placed a hand on your heart, ignoring the laughs that seeped out of him.

“Geeze, you scared me!” You chided, glaring up into his playful green eyes.

“Oh, like you weren’t trying to do the same to me just now.”

Laughing still, he bent down in front of you, offering you a hand to help you up.

Ever the gentleman.

Placing your palm into his own, he easily pulled you up to your feet, holding you against his muscular chest in a welcoming hug, to which you eagerly returned, arms wrapping around his slender waist.

Though you didn’t know the common body type of a witch, you had to admit, he was certainly buff. Not that you minded.

He could easily throw you over his broad shoulder, and you loved it.

Completely defenseless and vulnerable.

Oh, how sweet it was to trust fully in someone.

His foreign clothes were soaked in his familiar thick scent, the smell of the forest after it had just rained, dewdrops in the early morning sun, a hint of pine, and his own natural musk that always had your head spinning. He tends to travel the forests in the kingdom often, collecting natural herbs and stones he found interesting.

He had jars and jars of rocks and stones, sometimes cracking them open to reveal crystals tucked away inside. He’d always make little trinkets out of them, giving them to people he deemed as friends as a sign of gratitude. You only had one, made from the rarest crystal he had ever found, taaffeite. 

“So, why did you need me?” You mumbled against his chest, cheek rubbing against his familiar warmth.

“Firstly, I always need you.” The sap.

“Mhmm..” you hummed out, letting him pull away and grab your hand, taking the glowing orb and tossing it up and down as he led you down the corridor.

“Secondly,” he trailed off, leaving the orb to float in the air as he unlocked his bedroom door, pulling you inside.

“It’s a bit of a personal thing I can only trust you with testing.”

Smiling to yourself, you sat down on the edge of his large bed, running your fingers over the soft wool that made up his thick comforter.

Never one to use dead animal pelts.

“Is that so?” Your eyes naturally follow his being as he walks around the room, shuffling through different materials before snapping his fingers to light the stone fireplace off on the other side of the room, providing more light, as well as warmth, so he could see where he was going and not trip on the books scattered across the floor.

He didn’t like the windows in his bedroom open at night.

“Y-yes..” he stuttered, fumbling around with a few glass jars on his desk, muttering to himself as he examines the label on each one. Seemingly finding what he was looking for, he turned back to you, proudly showing that he had found it before making his way back to the bed.

“What is that for?” Curious, your fingers brushed against the cool glass containing the shimmering magenta liquid as he sat beside you on the bed, mattress dipping enough from his weight that your sides knocked together.

“A few weeks ago, Shōto had asked a familiar question, if I possessed the ability to make every potion out there. Of course I- I can’t exactly, but I’ve enough skill to make some rather.. exotic potions. He questioned if I ever tried something different than just potions to heal the sick or offer beauty, and I haven’t. I don’t know why, but realizing that upset me. As if my skill set was limited to just some average joe healer,”

“Izuku..”

“So for a while now, I’ve been branching out. Trying different types of potions and having him as the tester.”

“Is that why he’s been acting different these days?”

“Precisely. I’m just lucky I haven’t gotten in trouble for turning him into a frog yet..” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his head as you took the glass from him to ogle it.

“So what is this then?”

“Um..” Embarrassment was creeping up his neck and resting on his cheeks as he averted his shy eyes, “I have a hunch of what it might do. But.. secret?”

You pout at him, “Shouldn’t I know what this is?”

“You’ll know soon! I promise it won’t harm you, darling.” Leaning down, he pecks a kiss on your cheek, large arm wrapping around your waist to pull you into a side hug.

Taking the glass from your hands, he pulled the cork out, glittery, pink mist floating out like smoke from a blown-out candle.

“So, what do you say? Will you try it?” It was almost as if he was giving you no option other than yes with those big puppy eyes of his staring into your soul.

Licking your lips, an action his eyes followed, you gulped the nervousness away.

What had you to fear? This was Izuku after all. Had he ever done you harm? Absolutely not.

You had no reason not to trust the man who held your heart.

“Alright.”

Joy lit up his face, smiling so widely his eyes crinkled.

Huffing out a laugh, you took the bottle from him again, curiously sniffing its fragrance.

“Chocolate and.. maca?” The scent was certainly familiarly tasty, having worked with the foods before, being a baker. Judging how the liquid didn’t resemble them at all, it was off-putting. How had he managed to trap such a delicate smell inside?

“Mhm! That’s right! Apparently, when made, the potion takes on a heavenly smell. Most are usually bitter.”

“Ahh..” Trailing off you eyed it up one last time before finally bringing it to your lips, a shiver running down your spine at just how cold the glass still was, despite being in a warm room.

Tilting the glass up, the liquid glimmering in the light of the fire traveled down the shoot, pouring into your awaiting mouth, feeling as if you were swallowing a runny syrup.

It had the slightest hint of sugar and cinnamon to its flavor, but nothing else. How odd.

Gulping it all down just to get it over with, your eyes that unknowingly closed fluttered open as he pulled the glass away.

Feeling perfectly fine, you stared up at him with confusion, about to speak before his lips cut you off, tongue poking out to lick the renaming liquid from the corner of your mouth.

The clink of the bottle being set down echoed around the room before his gloved palm delicately cupped your cheek, tilting your head as to deepen the kiss.

His tongue eagerly explored the wet cavern of your mouth, as if he was drinking the little essence from his own creation left over.

Pulling away with a wet pop, his forehead rested against yours, mesmerizing green eyes staring softly into your own, waiting.

Waiting for what was what you didn’t know, perhaps for the potion to take effect.

You were eager to find out just what it was, but you had a semblance of a guess considering the position you found yourself in.

“How do you feel?” he whispered breathlessly against your parted lips.

Just as you were about to reply, your words got caught in your throat as your body began to heat up in a familiar way.

“I..” You pant, grip on his cotton shirt tightening as your gut suddenly twisted with a burning need for HIM.

Your (E/C) eyes glaze over with lust in front of his own, pupils dilating as your body began to shake, whimpers escaping your throat.

Thighs rubbing together to offer friction you didn’t know you desperately craved until now, you looked at him helplessly, so close to falling apart if it weren’t for his large hand on the small of your back holding you close to his steady figure.

“I-I feel hot.. Izuku..”

You whined, chewing at your lip as you wiggled beneath his excited stare.

“Good.”

Suddenly, his lips connected with yours once more, drawing a stuttered moan from your throat at the contact you unknowingly began to crave more and more as your lips connected again and again.

You clung to him like a koala, kissing him fervently like you would never be able to again, desperate to have his undivided attention.

Hands sliding to your hips, he pulled you onto his lap, legs hugging his own as hot breaths mingled together with the wet sound of kisses.

“Ah..!” You squeaked against him, your hips involuntarily grinding down onto his crotch, greedily searching for the pleasure your body desperately craved.

“M-mmm.. Izu.. I-” Your apology was cut off with a nip to your neck, “Don’t apologize,” he scolded. Grip still on your hips, he pulled you down rougher against his hardening dick, his hips thrusting up to meet your own, eliciting a sharp cry from your being as your head threw back at the sudden pressure where you craved it most.

He was quick to chase your lips, dragging you back into your heated makeout, swallowing every moan you let out as you both humped each other like horny dogs, the eagerness from him only adding to the pool of moisture leaking out of your body.

The button on his trousers was rubbing deliciously against your clothed clit, making your hips stutter every so often as you fought to maintain that hard surface.

Saliva began to drip down the side of your mouth from the intense kissing, but you hadn’t a care in the world.

No, your mind was too fogged to even think about it.

All you craved was him.

Him.

Him.

You yearned for him like he’d been gone a decade, and your body acted on it in a way you were typically shy about.

Biting your lip, he pulled away from the kiss, dragging a whine of protest from you before he hushes you by licking the outer shell of your ear, breath fanning across it only adding to the tingles of excitement shooting down your arched spine. “Hush,” he commanded, and as if you couldn’t disobey him, your words of protest died on your tongue, leaving only a parted mouth and heavy breaths.

Licking down the column of your neck, nose brushing against you, he searched for that familiar sweet spot on you, teeth grazing your flesh.

Still grinding on his hard cock covered by pants, a wet spot no doubt leaking past the underwear you wore beneath your hiked up skirt and onto him, you gasp once he found the place he was looking for.

Smirking, he nibble gently, holding you still as you began to wiggle once more.

Your head tilted to the side to give him more room as he sucked on your skin, teeth repeatedly nibbling at your sensitive flesh. Biting down harshly, you cried out with pain and pleasure, hips grinding down so hard onto him he groaned, the vibration making your heart jump in your throat.

“A-ahh… hnng.!” Moans poured salaciously past your thoroughly kissed lips, holding onto him for dear life as he controlled your being with every fiber of his own.

A button on your blouse popped open, and your foggy gaze traveled down just to see his fingers expertly undoing each one without looking, letting your bare breasts bounce out above your corset.

Not giving you a second to cover yourself out of embarrassment, his large hand cupped one of your tits, massaging it gently just to feel the soft flesh as your chin rested against his grounding shoulder, small moans now directly in his awaiting ear.

“You’re such a good girl, (Y/N).” He praised, eyes filled with nothing but love as he got to watch your unusually heated body search for the pleasure it craved.

You were usually so shy in bed, but with this potion pumping through your veins, he hoped it’d help give you the confidence boost you needed.

Though, that wasn’t the only thing it did.

He was filled with anticipation, if his throbbing member was anything to go by.

Thumb circling around your cute, perky nipple, he took the bud between his thumb and forefinger, pulling gently and rolling it between them, dragging high pitched whines from you.

You couldn’t help but pull away from him again, body constantly shifting from the delicious pleasure you were being given.

Fully pulling your blouse off, he left your chest completely bare, giving him the chance to dip his head down and latch onto the opposite nipple, lathering it in attention with his warm muscle, sucking softly and continuously rolling your other nipple with his hand.

It left you craving more, fingers threading through his messy green curls, pulling as to not lose yourself, only eliciting yet another deep groan that vibrated on your skin.

Feeling yourself slowly start to come undone, you desperately ground against him, pants becoming high pitched and moans being louder.

He could tell you were getting close, and from grinding alone no less, it made him feel so damn good to know he could get you to come purely from grinding.

But he didn’t want you to cum like this.

Certainly not.

And so, he fell back on his back dragging you with him as his lips found yours again.

Gripping at the hem of your skirt, he yanked it down, pulling it off your legs. Using a little handy magic, he effortlessly pulled your own shoes off, already working your underwear down your quivering thighs, eyes zeroed in on the drip of wetness attaching your core to them for a split second before they were across the other side of the room.

Corsets were always his worst nightmare.

He couldnt think too clearly to untie the knot in the back as your now bare crotch rubbed against his own, so without thinking, he ripped it off, the bare display of strength having you keening against him.

“Princess,” he whispered against your lips, dragging your hips upwards, “please, sit on my face.”

How vulgar of him to say, with a smile no less, but nonetheless it scent a throb of want to your stomach, and you found yourself, once again, unable to disobey him.

Your body burned red from embarrassment as you crawled up his own still fully clothed one, but you weren’t given the chance to dwell on it before he moved your hips directly over his face, tongue poking out to lap at your dripping folds.

“Gaah..!” You cried, fingers digging into the blanket beneath him as your hips once again helplessly sought the pleasure you craved, unafraid to press down against him.

Your juices tasted so sweet, he eagerly lapped at you like a dog deprived of water.

He had to hold you still against his face, drinking in the image of your breasts jiggling like jelly with every shuttered breath you took, head flung back and eyes shut tight as you focused purely on the way the flat of his tongue licked you up like a sugary treat.

He couldn’t help but occasionally press a kiss against your sobbing flesh, teasingly avoiding your clit begging for attention each time you moved against his mouth.

Your cries of pleasure filled the room, only sending his mind into a state of hunger, wanting to drag every noise out of you he could, along with the loud licking that caused your essence to drip down his chin.

His aching cock was straining against the flimsy button of his pants, desperate to be released and buried deep inside your soul-sucking pussy again.

Tongue dipping inside you and lips pressing against your sensitive, pink labia, he ate you out with earnest, squeezing your hips tightly with his fingers as he fought to control himself from shoving you to the blankets and fucking you raw without finishing his dessert first.

A choked sob tore from your throat with his lips finally encased your puffy clit, the tip of his tongue tracing around the bundle of nerves before flattening his tongue against it.

Your hips bucked involuntarily against his face, pressing him harder against you just so you could cry out his name like a sinful prayer.

His heart was full of love for you as he observed your reaction did everything blissful he did.

You were in heaven, walking on clouds as wet squelches from your own body surrounded your ears.

“Z-Zuku..!” You cried as he sucked on your clit like candy, enjoying the rough treatment. The tip of his tongue traced his name possessively over your button, marking you as his forevermore, silently vowing to never let another man do the same.

“I-I’m close..!” You cried, tears of pleasure falling down your flushed cheeks, dripping onto the thighs squeezing his head like warm earmuffs.

He hummed against you, dragging his tongue across the expanse of your womanhood before enclosing around your clit again, lathering it in the attention you needed to be pulled over the edge.

Your thighs clenched around his head, his hair tickling you, body stilling as you screamed out in pleasure, back arching and giving him a lovely view of your demise.

You came on his tongue, the stimulation he gave you throughout your orgasm sending you higher and higher in that clouded head of yours.

When you finally came down and slumped forward, catching your breath, he licked up the mess you made, pulling away from your lower lips and running a tongue over his own to greedily savor your delectable taste.

Placing you off to the side, giving you a second to calm down,, he hurriedly shuffled out of his clothing, throwing his cloak, gloves, and various other things on his person to the floor, kicking his boots off that landed with a heavy thump, leaving his underwear on as he crawled over on top of you.

Dazed, you stared deliriously up at him, a bashful smile on your lips, watching as he wipes your juices away with the back of his wrist before licking it clean. He was so sinful and messy.

The warm fire crackling in the corner hugged at his soft skin, making his eyes blown wide with lost twinkle like starlight. He looked so in love as he stared at you as if you were the only person in the world.

Breathing heavily, you reached out for him, and he was happy to lean in so you could wrap your arms around his neck, toying with the shorter curls at his nape as he kissed you again, your taste still on his tongue as your tongues intertwined. You weakly fought against his intrusion, teasing, only for him to grab a handful of your ass, making you gasp and effectively losing the battle.

He flooded your being with everything he had, his scent, his love, his passion, adoration, everything.

His knowledge on your own sexual human anatomy astounded you, but always left you moaning against him, much to his utter pleasure.

His thumb circled your twitching clit, bringing your attention back to his actions and the way you clenched helplessly around thin air, waiting for him.

You hungrily eyed the bulge in his underwear, licking your lips at the spot of wetness where his dripping head was.

You wanted to feel him inside you again, to clench around the very thing that drove you insane other than his skillful touch.

“P-please..” You begged, detaching yourself from him, pleading for mercy under his sharp gaze as he soaked up your wrecked self.

He loved hearing you beg.

“Please what?” he drawled out, running his lips down the side of your face and neck, pressing kisses against your collarbone. Moving his thumb previously giving you what you desire to your thighs, he held them in his grasp just to feel your smooth, warm skin against his rough, scarred palms.

You whined, shimmying your hips to draw his attention to them. He ignored your advances, peering up at your face with a glare and crooked smile that shot sparks down your body, “Tell me.” 

As if on cue, and unable to disobey his words that squeezed your heart, you sputtered a response, barely able to maintain eye contact, “P-please touch me..! M-more.. I, I need more, please! I want..” your breath was stolen from your lungs as he began to grind his clothed crotch against your wet core, “I want you! I w-want you to fuck me, please..! I- I can’t take it anymore.. Please, Izuku..!” More tears fell from your eyes, falling onto the mattress below you, “Please fuck me..!”

Happy with your response,  but still not quite ready to give in, he pulled away, circling your clenching hole with his middle finger, watching as your head flew back with tears as you meekly thrust upwards.

As much as he wanted to pull himself out right now and fuck you until his bed broke from the sheer force, he couldn’t risk hurting you.

Even if the potion was designed to make you ready for everything sexual, willing to comply with his every demand, you still were his princess, his angel, and he was going to treat you like one.

He didn't want you to wake with the soreness of not being properly prepared, even if he could heal you a minute after. That minute of you crying from the pain that HE selfishly caused would always be stabbed into his heart, and he certainly didn't want that, nor you to experience it.

“Sorry, love..” he apologized, finally plunging his thick finger inside you after thoroughly coating it with your slick, moaning at how tight you were for him. 

“Fuck..” he whispered under his breath, keeping your thighs splayed wide open as he sat back on his haunches to watch you react to him.

Your back was arched, begging for more as you gripped the sheets below you, cheek pressed against the mattress as low moans trickled out your sinful mouth like water.

Face hot, a boyish smile fell on his face as he added another finger, observing how you hotly throw your head back as he pressed against the spongy spot inside your walls.

“Aaahh..! T-there! R-right there..!”

“I know, darling, shh, shhh.” He cooed at you, curling his fingers against your G-spot with each thrust in and out of your sopping pussy. His fingers made wet clicks inside of you as they rubbed against your walls, dragging more and more moans out of you as you ground down on his large digits.

His eyes couldn’t leave the view of you sucking him back in every time he pulled his fingers out, it left him imagining more and more scenarios in his head.

God, how he wanted to destroy you.

Have you screaming his name so loudly you broke the sound barrier he had set up ages ago, letting all of the castle and its snobby guards know he was fucking the love of his life and doing it damn well.

He bet they would be jealous.

Those thoughts of it made his adrenaline spike, adding a third finger to the squelching party mixing your insides up, leaving you at their utter disposal.

Arousal poured from you like a steady stream, gushing down and leaving a wet puddle under your ass.

You were so wet for him it was hard to bear, but you felt so, so good.

Your mind was so muddled with lust, you couldn’t think straight, all that entered your mind was ‘more, more, more.’ 

You were being greedy, but you couldn’t help it.

Deciding you were prepped enough, his fingers pulled fully out of you, putting on a small display of licking them clean as you watched with wide, doe eyes, stuttering out about how dirty that was.

“More dirty than you using my face as a seat, my lady?” He teased, tucking his face into the crook of your neck.

“T-thats..”

He chuckles at your flustered response.

Pulling his underwear down, his cock slaps against his toned stomach, fully erect and dripping with precum.

Throwing them off to the side, he noticed the way your eyes greedily looked at his body, confidence burning his veins as he sees the impatience in your eyes as you stare at his member.

He was tempted to say, ‘like what you see?’ but he himself was far too eager and impatient to wait any longer.

Grabbing himself, he ran his thickness between your lips, gathering your arousal on him before leading himself to your entrance.

“Ready?” He asked whilst kissing the skin below your ear.

You nodded, hips wiggling in anticipation.

“A-ahh! Fuck!” You cried out as he fully sheathed himself inside you with one thrust, bottoming out immediately.

He bit at your skin, concealing the deep moan that rumbled in his chest as you strangled his weeping dick at last.

You were so intoxicating, you sweet aroma wafting off you with every breath.

Grinding himself inside of you, he waited patiently for you to adjust, leaving hickeys all over your skin with each passing second.

Gulping down air, you thrust upwards, dragging him out of his blissed-out state just to moan heavenly deeply in your ear.

“Naughty girl..” he seethed, making you giggle, only to be shut up as he pulled out and slammed his hips back into your own, drawing out a garbled moan.

Skin slapped wetly against skin with each rough thrust he relentlessly delivered, drinking up your cries for more.

Leaning back to watch you with hungry, dark green eyes, pupils blown wide with lust. He pinned your arms to the bed above your head, a punishment for catching him off guard.

His cock was truly a godsend, thick and long, curved upwards just to slam repeatedly into your soft g-spot over and over.

You could only hold on for dear life as he fucked you good and hard just like you wanted, just like you craved.

“O-Ohh!!! Izu!! Izuku-! Ahh.! F-fuck..!” You moaned with each thrust inside your wet self, body being pushed back from the sheer intensity of which he fucked you with.

He knew your body so well by now, he knew each and every way to make you fall apart by his own doing.

He knew how to break you in the most sinful way possible, and he loved it.

Your face was lewdly contorted with pleasure, eyes looking back, eyebrows pinched together, (H/C) baby hairs plastered to your sweaty forehead, and mouth gaping wide open so he could hear every slur of words and every noise you emitted.

He wanted to hear everything you had to say, every reaction to the way he fucked you.

He could feel you growing tighter around his throbbing cock, juices coating his thighs with each heavy thrust inside of you.

He loved how much he could turn you on, even if right now it was all thanks to the potion that added pink hearts to your innocent (E/C) eyes.

The same potion that had you openly moaning unashamedly, whereas you previously would have held them in by biting your lip and hands.

He was so happy to hear how good he made you feel.

At long last.

“(Y/N)..” he panted heavily, peering deeply into your glossy eyes, movements becoming more and more sloppy as he lost himself to the pleasure, a burning pressure building up in his gut with each shallow and deep thrust.

Falling down on top of you, he held you close to him, letting your arms go so you could dig your nails into the flesh of his toned, freckled back flexing with each movement.

The bed banged loudly against the wall, he momentarily worried it would leave a dent- but he couldn’t think about that now. Not when you were crying out his name so sweetly.

“I’m here, I’m here..” he soothed as you clung to him.

Your hips began to move in circles, drugging him with intense ecstasy as he thrusts into you. You kept him wanting more and more. He was addicted to you. 

Pushing your legs back against the mattress, he reached so deep inside you, you swore you could feel his head kissing at your womb. 

You were so helpless to the waves of infinite pleasure he washed you over with that all you could do was take it.

“You’re doing so.. hah… so good, baby..” he praised breathlessly.

“Gnnn! Gaahhah..! Izuku!!”

“Let me hear it.. let me hear you, princess.” He smiled against your skin as you let out an onslaught of sultry moans, fueling his inner fire.

“I’m..! I- gwaahhh..! I’m so c-close..!”

“Me too, me too..” He fervently pressed kisses to your cheek, letting his other hand travel down to coat his thumb in your spare wetness, just to rub circles on your puffy clit, applying the right amount of pressure that always drove you insane.

Drool dribbled down the side of your mouth as your tongue flopped out, breasts bouncing with each and every thrust, constantly captivating him as he could feel their softness against his pecs.

Holding you flushed against him, he let magic crackle to life on his hand, green sparks lighting up the area around the two of you just barely. His hand began to vibrate, magic he learned was good for massaging muscles, but of course, it had.. other uses..

The vibration against your clit, added to the pounding of his cock expertly slamming against your G-spot, sent your head flying back, white vision going black as your pussy strangled his cock like a python.

“Haaahh.! Aah!” You cried his name out so loudly it burned your throat, leaving you to cum harshly on his dick, the strange sensation of liquid squirting from your body making your mind go numb as all you were left with was burning hot stars in your eyes.

The display alone was enough to drag him over the edge as well, slamming his cock into you once more before warm ropes of cum spurted into you, completely coating your walls and spewing out from the sheer amount as he let out a silent moan.

His thighs twitched and his stomach felt empty when he finally came down from his high, the same time as you.

Love filled his gaze as you both peered into each other’s eyes, enraptured by the souls sealed within.

Heavy breaths blew past your lips, desperate to calm down your racing heart.

“How was it..?” He questioned lightly, moving hair out of your face so he could get a better look.

“How was… what..?” Your mind was still clouded. You hadn’t any idea how he could still think straight.

Giggling, he rubbed his nose lovingly against your own. 

“The potion. Could you feel its effects..?”

Staring at him in bewilderment, it took a second to register his words. 

The potion.. what had it done again..?

Oh..

You slapped a hand over your mouth, pulling away from him. “Oh gosh..!” 

You were so embarrassed! 

Gah, to be so loud!! You wanted to hide in a hole..!

“Don't be shy, my love,” He pleaded sweetly, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead, “it’s just me.”

“That's the point!! I-it was embarrassing to- to be so.. lewd in f-front of you…”

“You say that, and yet I’m still deep inside you,”

“Izuku..!” You groaned, shoving his smiling face away with both hands, only for him to grab your hands and place gentle kisses on them.

“I.. I liked hearing you..” he flushed, bashfully looking away.

Though he could be quite the dominant man in bed, it was always endearing how he was still the shy witch you fell in love with at the end of the day.

“W-well I..” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, “Well I’ll be louder for now o-on then..!” Your declaration surprised him, shock resting on his features before he broke out in another smile, flopping on top of your sweaty body just to hug you to his own equally as sweaty body.

“I love you, (Y/N)..” he sighed blissfully, burying his nose in your hair as he cuddled you, the crackling of the blazing fire just now reaching his ears.

“I love you too, Izuku.”

Though he could be a handful at times, with his insistent drive to be better and push himself beyond his current limits, as well as running headfirst into danger and getting littered with scars, you still loved him.

You always would.

He was your kind witch, and you, his darling beloved.

And nothing would ever get between a witch and the one he called his.

.

..

…

….

“So, are you going to pull out? I feel a little messy.”

“In a minute..”

“Izu!”