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0ccuria · 2 months

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Wanted to do Halsin as a young cub coming into his Druidry, with a familiar friend to wish him well. (not to worry, the face tat is just paint here)

also wrote a little blurb (791 words) to accompany it under the cut!

“Alright. You can do this – relentless studies do not fail me now.” A young Halsin told himself, alone within a small grotto. It was time for him to prove his knowledge to his elder peers. He had been preparing for months, nights after long nights of arduous studying of old tomes and hours long meditations. His hands buzzed with a cocktail of anxiety and excitement as he quietly rehearsed his teachings.

He pressed a loosely closed fist to his chest and bowed his head, “Oak Father, grant me courage to excel through the trials this Circle has bestowed upon me. I trust no other counsel but yours.”

A moment passed as he reflected on his prayer, but was soon interrupted by a magical disturbance in the air. A faint golden light flashed behind Halsin that grabbed his attention. Suddenly, an apparition of a young boy with a familiar pair of horns materialized before him.

“No other’s, hm?” It said, hands on its hips.

Halsin’s eyes widened at the sight, “...Thaniel?!” He shouted in shock.

His best and only friend to ever grace his company stood there in front of his very eyes. When was the last time he had been so lucky? The teachings and training of the Circle had regrettably pulled Halsin away from seeking out Thaniel’s connection for some time. Immediately, Halsin set his hands upon the boy’s shoulders, lightly gripping them.

“It’s really you! Why are you...” he shook his head, “I’m so sorry, I have neglected you for too long. I hope you can forgive me.” He pleaded.

“But, why?” Thaniel replied, perplexed. “Don’t apologize for following the path that nature has set before you.” An assuring smile stretched his cheeks.

Halsin bit his lower lip to quell his heart from welling up over the sudden mixture of emotions. He then nodded and retrieved his hands. “Yes, you’re right.” He sighed, “I only wish I could have you at my side, always. It has become rather lonely on walks without your little shadow trailing behind me.”

Thaniel skipped over to a moss covered slab and sat upon it, crossing his legs and holding onto his ankles. He swayed back and forth, unable to keep still. “As do I, but we all must fall into the whirlwind of change at some point in our lives, and like the branch of a tree, there will be many more paths that you will have to decide to take for yourself. Nature is not-”

“Stationary.” Finished Halsin.

The two smiled at each other before sharing a giggle, still able to finish each other’s sentences. The young Druid then joined Thaniel for a seat, leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees. Thaniel then set his head against Halsin’s shoulder, which had certainly grew in size the last he had seen him.

“Don’t fret, Hal, I have been trailing behind – I always will be. Wherever there is a breeze in the air, you will be content to know that it’s me checking in on you.” The boy said. “I know you will become a great Druid – I could see no other better to protect nature. You got this.”

Halsin’s lip quivered, breaking loose to the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He sniffled and wiped his eyes as he let the wave pass through, “Heh. Oh, how I have missed your kind words, thank you, truly. I will take that to heart as long as I live.”

He wrapped his arm around the boy, pulling him into a tighter hug before releasing him. “...Will you sit with me for a moment longer before I have to go? I think there is still time.” He asked.

With a sudden puff of glittery mist that startled Halsin, Thaniel teleported to the other side of the grotto that lead outside and stood there with his arms crossed, “I have a better idea…” a smirk crossed his lips.

Halsin knew of what he spoke of; a game of chase they had always enjoyed. “Are you sure?” He daringly asked. “I’ve become quite fast these days!” He continued, accepting the challenge. He then got up into a half crouched stance, holding his hands out beside him to pull nature's blessing from the soil below to conjure himself into the wildshape of a wolf. Once on all fours, he vigorously shook as if he were wet in order to acclimate himself to the form. Thaniel stood ready to run, awaiting Halsin to come after him.

“Let me be the judge of that!” The boy shouted, tauntingly.

With an elated howl, Halsin charged towards Thaniel, who swiftly darted away as the unmistakable shrill of a child’s laughter and the clacking of claws on stone faded into the distance.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #Halsin bg3 #bg3 halsin #Halsin #Halsin Silverbough #Thaniel #bg3 Thaniel #my art #idk was feeling cute I guess lol #idk what Halsin was doing within his youth before becoming a full fledged Druid #so this is just kind of a what if scenario #but I like to think Thaniel was always there to encourage him

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thepeonysbackup · 2 months

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I need more mindswap fics! Now! Dis shits too good!

Mind!Swapped!Alastor, who....

Pairings: Alastor x Reader

Tags: MDNI, smut plot, dub con!

Word count: 887

Request: Yes/No

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who stirs to the sound of his door being hammered on, who's face peeks over the soft blue sea of fabric to see his door swing open from the comforting space. Who basks in the soft warmth of the light as a shadow hurriedly covered him in darkness, his own smiling face hovering over his body while speaking rapidly, worry noticeable on his brow as the words came in and out of audible, so quick his ears couldn't understand at first in his haze.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who shoots up suddenly after he rolled back over onto his side, his newly felt long strands of hair tickling his nose until he cracked them open once again. Who frantically grabs at himself in a perplexed mental attack of weakness, who jolts when you touch his uncovered feminine flesh and pushes his body off the bed with a girlish scream.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who threatens absolute carnage upon you if you do not keep your mouth shut for the entire day. Who claims he'll tear your soul into bite sized pieces until you can hear not move an inch so he can feast upon your organs to make sure you die again remembering nothing.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who forces you to change his vulgar revealing feminine clothes with his own power, who only allows his shadow to cautiously and accurately switch his attire.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who doesn't leave your side, his brain being fogged by not only the need for his powerful presence to protect him in this weak state, but by the attraction to himself he felt through your body. Who clings to his own arm breathlessly, who gains attention from the others to the change in both of your behaviors.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who cannot rest alone. Who shudders at the thought of being in a restless solitude without his pocketed dimensional room and without his strong present static, who rushes through the halls in your lacey white translucent night clothes to his door to open it… Only to find himself on his armchair by the fire place, his body's clothes disheveled and face stained with a red tint as his clawed hand ruffled lightly within his pants.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who grinds his flat herbivore-like teeth at the wet feeling coating himself between his fair thighs, the womanly throbbing from his dainty petals as he pulls the front of your white camie down to cover himself and the growing wetness that he has little control over. “What do you think your doing?!” His voice would seeth, the threat coming out helplessly as a whine of embarrassment due to your girlish voice being so soft.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who gawks in pure horror at his newly developed position upside down, who writhes with cute little noises of protest as black tendrils loop around his now frail and soft form, his embarrassed tear filled eyes batting its lashes rapidly as he made eye contact with you in his body. Who watches helplessly as your hand untucks himself from his pants at a painfully slow pace, claws raking drawled out strokes across the taut strained skin as it pulsed.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who screams to the holy being who sent him to this foul place for mercy, your lips allowing the words of a subconscious pleading bitch to release as the feeling of his demonic presence rumbled throughout your trembling form in powerful thrusts of his tentacles. Who cursed you for hours before succumbing to your body's desires for his bloodthirsty feral fucking.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who quakes in his eighth orgasm finally hitting the sweetest spot inside you, voice hoarse and desperate for something other then a tentacle inside. “Dearest…” He'd moan to you, your hand still lazily stroking over his half hardened cock before the shadowy appendages pulled him over to you. His ever present smile still boring strain as you made his magic lower your body onto his lap. “Beg some more, it's so fucking hot-” You'd tell him, clawed hand gripping your chin harshly to make him listen. Oh how he trembled.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who cumdrunkenly begs for more of his own seed to fill your tight little holes. Who gurgles hushed moans onto his cock as you facefuck him into the wall, humming hard against his length as it continued to split thick white globs down your pipes until you made him choke. Who reveled in the sound of his voice calling to him, “Such a good girl..” he was for this moment.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who wakes sticky and damp with you on his lap shivering uncontrollably with your thighs locked around his hips. Who's static grows until he feels your cunt tighten around his soft cock, helping it to harden as you blubbered against his chest in pain from the soreness.

Mind!Swapped Alastor, who uses you as nothing but a weak and pathetic little fleshlight for days after your incident. Who punishes you so sweetly that your mind bends into itself and snaps at its base. Who fucks you so good that the only word you remember to say is his name and not a damn thing else. “Oh, don't think that I won't remember this..”

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #happy hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #keiks asks #keiks piece #keiks works #keiks creatures of intrigue

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scuttlingcrab · 3 months

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"The doublet is a magical item, so it can fit and mould to Raphael’s body no matter his form or temper." Now I'm just picturing Raphael transforming in anger while wearing the doublet and his rage is momentarily stopped when he realizes that it transformed with him and wasn't even singed.

Like, I could be incredibly angry with someone, but if I suddenly realized that my dress had pockets in it I know darn well that I'd need to at least stop and take a moment to marvel at that discovery before even thinking about continuing on with my anger. 😅

I was literally working on something similar when you sent your message! I've attached the ask below I was initially responding to. Thank you for your message anon and hope you enjoy! x

"Also, the idea of Raphael showing off his new clothes is just- It just tickles me! I can see him preening and flaunting like a peacock because of Tav's gift. I'd honestly read a sequel piece about that, if you want to write it. I've kinda already fallen in love with the whole idea of a luxury magic tailor Tav that the initial prompt fill and response has created as well as that Tav's potential dynamic with Raphael (and other characters *looking at Gale and his sewing needle quip*) and would absolutely be down to read more of that from you! 👀"

Summary: Raphael is caught off guard by his recent gift from Tav, so he decides to pay his little mouse a visit.

Notes: Read A Perfect Fit, which inspired this continuation.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Dressed to Kill

Raphael stomped through the halls of the House of Hope, shedding his mortal skin. The doublet didn’t set fire when Raphael transformed, instead, it morphed with his growing size. The silk fabric soothed his ridged body, feeling like a warm embrace. Raphael suppressed a scream. Wretched mortal! The debtors scurried out of his path like rats, seeking the shadows for an ounce of solace from the blistering rage.

He passed an open window and jolted to a halt. The blood-red light of Avernus caught the designs of his doublet, causing it to glimmer like diamonds. During his shift, the colour of his clothing changed. It now had a dark golden shimmer, the infernal embroidery a deep blue. He extended his arm, admiring the sleeve as he twisted it only slightly, and watched as the adornment reflected tiny devilish patterns onto the marble floors. The decorations moved, as if dancing. Another interesting, subtle detail.

Staring at these animations, Raphael’s breath calmed, his mind cleared. He stood taller, his head never held so high. Abruptly he spotted one of the debtors staring at him from his peripheral and lowered his hand, slowly turning to face them. Fire burned in Raphael’s eyes as he hissed, barring his sharp teeth. The debtor screeched before scurrying off to continue their meaningless eternal task.

“If I catch just one more incompetent lackey idling about, I will impale your sorry souls on trees and leave you to rot. You are all interchangeable. Do not forget that.”

Raphael watched as the last debtor fled from his sight. He will not be caught off guard again. No. In fact… he will pay that creature a visit.

–

Raphael materialised at the creature's camp in a swirl of flames and sparks, returning to his mortal disguise.

The camp was quiet at this hour, the creatures asleep, separated into their individual makeshift tents. And what a ghastly camp it was, third-rate, at best. Miscellaneous equipment littered every corner, books lay discarded, shoddy clothes hung drying on trees, and the animals… When did these mortals domesticate owlbears? Savages.

He slowly approached Tav’s tent, nestled towards the lake's shoreline. He parted the flap with an index finger and peeked inside. The creature was fast asleep, sharing her tent with that monstrosity Karlach.

He watched them sleeping, so defenceless. He perked up at the thought. If he was so inclined, he could have easily ended their lives, consumed their souls before the tadpoles defiled them; all it would take is a snap of his fingers…

“Rise and shine, little mouse.” Raphael purred.

Tav sprang up from her bed roll, clumsily readying a dagger from her sleeve. She held it out towards Raphael, one eye still closed, as she fought off the interrupted slumber.

Karlach simply turned over in her bedding, yawning and stretching like a cat. She slowly opened her eyes, sitting upright when she spotted Raphael standing at the entrance.

He smirked in response, placing a hand on his hip.

“What the hell is this creep doing here?”

“Good evening to you too, Karlach. I am simply checking in on my prospective clients.”

Raphael bowed deeply, making sure to be as flamboyant as possible in his gesture.

“In the middle of the bloody night? Fuck off, devil.”

Raphael slowly straightened himself, adjusting his sleeves. He aimed his cuffs towards the campfire, taking care to make sure the lighting was just right to highlight the devilish decorations.

“Tut, tut, Karlach, language. If I wanted to hear such hideous sounds I’d speak with a lemure.”

Karlach leapt to her feet, the rickety infernal engine in her chest glowing brighter as she stared daggers at him.

“Karlach, please…”

Tav raised a hand at Karlach, putting away her weapon. She rubbed away the rest of the sleep and focused on Raphael. Her face instantly lit up when she caught sight of his doublet.

“You’re… wearing it?” Tav whispered. She brought her hands to her mouth, attempting to hide her flushed cheeks.

“But of course! How could I resist such a delicious gift? It’s not often a devil like myself comes across a mortal with such curious tastes. Your attention to detail is…”

Raphael dramatically clasped his hands together, as if in a prayer. Yes, indeed. Thank the Gods up above for damning these poor creatures and sending them straight into his claws.

“Superb!”

“Hells, what have you done?” Karlach groaned, rolling her eyes. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

Tav gave Karlach a sidelong glance, narrowing her eyes. Raphael’s smile grew, devouring the creature’s disapproval and embarrassment. Almost as scrumptious as a soul.

“You are quite the seamstress. What else have you been creating on your adventures, hmm? I wonder, what would be the price for another item such as this? Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement?”

Tav’s mouth hung open at his words.

“I-I-uh, didn’t think that far ahead. Let me sleep on it.”

“Don’t keep me waiting, little mouse. You had my curiosity, but now… you have my full attention.”

Raphael raised his arms out wide, like a peacock strutting their finest feathers. He laughed as he surrounded himself in infernal flames. He had truly stumbled upon his greatest prize, his secret weapon to uniting the Nine Hells. Raphael would reach his target soon, that was for certain, but oh, oh yes... he would look hellishly chic in his pursuits. He would turn heads, devils and mortals alike.

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ilovemybishies87 · 3 months

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The Vacation from Hell - Chapter One

Inspired by @damntheyare's amazing fanart. I did end up changing a couple elements because I suck and did not realize who the cat and dog were supposed to be until after I had completed the chapter. Sorry, KeeKee and Razzle/Dazzle!

This will also be posted to AO3, along with all future chapters, once I have an account. Until then, enjoy!

*EDIT* Now posted to AO3!

Alastor wasn’t sure how he found himself in this situation. No, that wasn’t quite accurate. He had some semblance of an idea. The Princess of Hell was known for her harebrained projects, but none more harebrained than a hotel with the sole purpose of redeeming the lowliest of Hell’s sinners. It was ridiculous. Laughable!

But between the song she had belted out to the idea itself, he considered himself sold. Of course, she had no experience running a hotel. That wasn’t so much a flaw as it was a feature. He could only imagine relishing her failure once the futility of her goal dawned on her. Until then he would bide his time in the shadows—a most fitting place, if he said so himself!—playing his self-assigned role as co-manager.

There was only one, tiny problem: he had seriously underestimated how much the universe wanted to fuck him over.

______________________________

“I need to visit a hotel!” Charlie announced.

The ragtag band of guests and staff were lounging in the common room a few days after Sir Pentious’s pitiful attack on the hotel. All except Niffty, who had made it her mission to clean the place from top to bottom. Vaggie and Angel Dust sat next to each other on the sofa, scrolling their phones. Husk stood behind the counter at the bar, finishing his inventory of liquors for the night.

Alastor turned to Charlie standing on the opposite side of the room. Papers plastered the wall behind her, filled with all the ideas she hadn’t yet written off as futile. She seemed frozen in place while she waited for a response.

Eventually Angel Dust pulled his gaze from his phone long enough to give her a brief glance and laughed. “You live in a hotel!” A pair of arms made a sweeping motion around them, emphasizing his point. “Why do you need to visit one?”

Charlie shook her head. “I know that, Angel! I meant a thriving one!” she said, and her grin stretched wide. “One on Earth!”

Alastor raised a brow at her declaration. This time her statement did not go unnoticed. Vaggie’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. Angel Dust’s phone dropped onto his lap as he stared at her, incredulous. Even Husk stopped in the middle of his count, ears turned in the group’s direction.

“Hon,” said Vaggie, once the initial shock had worn off, “that sounds—”

“Like the best idea ever? I know!”

“Not what I was going to say,” Angel Dust muttered. He picked up his phone and started scrolling again.

“Just consider it field research!” said Charlie as she crossed the room, hardly able to contain her excitement. “Only for a couple of days, of course. I can’t leave the hotel vacant for long, in case a guest decides to check in.”

“But there are too many unknowns!” Vaggie said, throwing her hands in the air. “Have you ever been to Earth before? People don’t exactly look like they do here.”

“I could wear a disguise!”

Vaggie slapped a hand over her face. “Do you even know how to get there?”

“Not exactly,” Charlie said after a moment, deflated. “But surely someone knows the way!”

Alastor took the opportunity and made his way over to them. “Naturally!” His microphone materialized in his hand. “You needn’t worry about the where or the how, my dear. Nothing my magic can’t handle, not at all! I can get us there and back in a jiffy!”

Charlie stared up at him, hands clasped together. Her eyes practically shone. “Really?”

“Well,” he added, side eyeing Vaggie with a smirk, “maybe not all of us.”

Vaggie put her arm between him and Charlie, shielding her from the Radio Demon. “No way! Even if I thought you knew how to get there—which I don’t—”

“Well, I do.”

“And you do your little voodoo, so you guys blend in—”

“Not voodoo,” stated Alastor.

Vaggie ignored him. “I would never trust you alone with Charlie!”

Charlie looked between her and Alastor. “Vaggie, I don’t want to go without you either! But,” she said sheepishly, “he sort of has a point?”

“Excuse me?!” Vaggie took a step back, eyebrows furrowed.

“I'm just saying,” Charlie continued, wringing her hands, “I’m not thrilled leaving the hotel alone. But if someone stayed here . . . well, there’s no one I trust more than you.”

Vaggie sighed. “I appreciate it,” she said. “I really do! Still, I don’t trust him.” She glared at Alastor’s grinning face. “What’s the catch? You trying to use this to get Charlie to make a deal? I won’t let that happen!”

He couldn’t fault her for jumping to that conclusion. The thought certainly crossed his mind, albeit briefly. But the rewards far outweighed any inconveniences. A simple glamour would solve their . . . unconventional appearances. And while he didn’t particularly desire returning to Earth, the trip would be worth the despair the princess would face once she realized how much of a farce her little Hazbin Hotel truly was.

“Shame,” Alastor said, and flicked his claws. “But perish the thought! Consider this a sub-clause to our original agreement.”

“But why?” Vaggie demanded. “What’s in it for you?”

“You remember—”

She groaned. “Ugh . . .”

“The entertainment!” they said in unison, Vaggie less enthusiastically.

“Come on, Vaggie,” said Charlie. She placed her hands on the other woman’s shoulders. “We won’t be gone long. This trip is what the hotel needs for inspiration!”

“I don’t know. You really think you’ll be fine?” Vaggie glanced at Alastor. “Alone. With him.”

Charlie bit her lip. “It’s fine. Although,” she continued, hesitant, “I would feel a bit more comfortable with added company.”

“Tsk! Very well.” Normally Alastor wouldn’t cave to requests, but he would allow her this small victory. “If you must, we can take Niffty and Husk.”

Husk turned to the trio from his spot at the bar. “Who the fuck said I wanted to go?”

“A trip!” said Niffty, seeming to materialize from nowhere. “Will there be bad boys?”

“What about Angel Dust?” asked Vaggie, and pointed to the Spider Demon who remained silent during their entire exchange.

Angel Dust shrugged and got up from the sofa. He headed off to the staircase, calling back to the group, “Meh, no thanks. I did my time, thank you very much!”

“Then it’s settled!” Alastor wrapped his arm around Charlie, causing her to nearly tumble into him, while pointing his microphone to Husk, then Niffty. “The four of us will go to Earth to do a little ‘field research,’ as it were, while you”—he pointed to Vaggie next, who pushed the mic away— “stay with the hotel."

“I didn’t fucking agree to this!” said Husk, throwing his towel down.

Niffty ran up the stairs behind Angel Dust, laughing maniacally all the way. “How many knives should I bring?”

Vaggie put her head in her hands. “This is a bad idea. . .”

“Ohh, I can’t believe this is happening!” Charlie said, bouncing up and down. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Oh, there’s so much to plan! How do we make reservations? Where do we stay? What should I pack?” She turned to Alastor, suddenly serious. “Do I need to bring sunscreen?”

Alastor chuckled at her enthusiasm. “I’ll let you worry about those last two, my dear. Leave the rest to me! Everything will be ready by tomorrow morning.”

______________________________

The transportation spell took him all night to complete. There were slight alterations for the trip that made casting easier said than done. Part of the blame, in this regard, lay with him. Alastor knew that as time passed in Hell, so too had it passed on Earth. And he had no intentions of going to the Earth of the present.

He allowed himself a small shudder as he finalized the last bit of magic. If he was expending his precious energy he would take them to some place—some time—more civilized, more familiar. Perhaps he was tempting fate returning to his old stomping grounds. And sure, a hotel from times past might not be the most effective for Charlie’s particular goal. But considering the circumstances, she had no right to complain.

After a short breakfast the other five residents gathered back in the common room. Vaggie seemed more annoyed than usual, arms crossed over her chest as she stood by Angel Dust, sleep still in his eyes. Charlie had several bags by her side, including one oversized pink rolling suitcase. A smaller black suitcase was next to Niffty, which if Alastor had to guess was filled with various sharp instruments. Even Husk, despite his protests, had packed a worn leather bag that clinked when he placed it on the ground.

Alastor brought nothing; it wasn’t as if he couldn’t simply conjure what he needed. He did, however, end up forgoing his usual red blazer and shirt ensemble. The pants remained the same, but he decided a thinner white button-down and red waistcoat would be more manageable. Ironically, not even Hell could compare to the omnipresent heat—and humidity, oh the humidity!—of New Orleans.

“Did I pack enough?” Charlie asked, for once not in her usual attire. She donned a more casual pair of thin pink sweats, topped with a sweatshirt a few shades darker, decorated with hearts. She tugged on the bright orange and green purse strapped across her shoulder. “I feel like I’m forgetting something.”

Angel Dust eyed the bags around them. “It’s, what, two days? This should be good.”

“Six, actually,” said Alastor.

"WHAT?!" Vaggie shrieked.

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “With the energy I'll be using transporting all of us, and bags, not to mention the glamours—”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You can’t possibly expect me to use my valuable resources for a couple of days, my dear,” Alastor said, not to Vaggie, but to Charlie, who was currently taking inventory of what she packed. “That shouldn’t be a problem, right? It’ll give you more time to get the full ‘human hotel’ experience.”

“Umm,” Charlie said. “It’s not exactly what I had in mind, but you have a point. With six days I’m sure to get the full hotel experience, and then some! I did have a question, though.”

“I have many questions,” Vaggie interrupted with a raised hand.

Alastor shook his head. “Manners! Charlie was first.”

“You mentioned glamours. I assume for you, me, Niffty and Husk,” said Charlie, not missing a beat. “How do they look? I mean, how are we going to blend in on Earth?”

“Why don’t I show you instead?”

Summoning his radio mic, Alastor pointed to the ground. Intricate symbols glowed beneath Charlie’s feet, the physical manifestation of the spell. A mirror sprouted from beneath the floor in front of her and a wave of green light washed over her form.

“Charlie!” Vaggie reached out. She turned to Alastor and pulled out her spear, pointing it at his face. “What did you do to her, you piece of—!”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “Oh, relax.” He pushed the weapon away as the light faded revealing Charlie, no worse for the wear. He turned to the blonde-haired demon. “See for yourself!”

The glamour for her had been simple enough. Her skin, including her black-stained lips, shifted from a porcelain white to a more human peach tone. Unfortunately, her most standout feature, her rose-red eyes, turned an inconspicuous shade of brown.

Pity. Red suited her so much better.

Her attire remained unchanged. Something about altering her clothing felt wrong, almost too intimate. He figured they could attain more period appropriate clothing once they arrived.

Charlie leaned in close to the mirror, taking in her new form. “No one will suspect a thing!” She glanced behind, where Alastor stood watching. “What about you?”

The same symbols appeared beneath his feet. He had struggled somewhat with his own appearance. Unlike Charlie, who—despite being Hellborn—more-or-less resembled a human, his own demon form was anything but. The claws, the teeth, the deer-like ears: they all had to go.

He went back and forth on how close his glamour should be to his former life. In the end he went the simple route and replicated how he looked while alive. Dark brown hair replaced his usual striking red and black strands, the style short and unremarkable. His eyes were the same dark shade as his hair, but he allowed himself a pair of red sunglasses in its place.

“What do you think, my dear?” He bowed ever so slightly. “Convincing enough?”

Charlie’s eyes widened, but it was difficult for him to decipher her expression. She met his eyes but averted her gaze just as fast. “Yes. Is that . . . how you were when you were human?”

“Yes, indeedy! The clothes, not so much.”

Angel whistled low. “Wow, the strawberry pimp is not so . . . strawberry.”

Vaggie shook her head, unimpressed. “What about Niffty and Husk?” she asked. “How are you having them blend in?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll approve the forms I’ve chosen,” said Alastor with a smirk.

Niffty nodded so quickly she nearly lost her balance. “Whatever you choose!”

Husk grumbled a response that no one, not even Alastor, could understand.

“Well, we’ve wasted enough time already!” the Radio Demon replied. “We really should be on our way!”

“Wait—!” said Vaggie.

Alastor tapped the ground three times with the end of the microphone. Four scarlet circles, inscribed with intricate scripts, appeared beneath his and Charlie’s feet, as well as everyone’s baggage. The circles appeared under Niffty and Husk as well, along with the same lime symbols as the glamour.

“Do take good care of the place while we’re gone, you two!” Alastor called out as he faded from sight. “It would be a pity if there was nothing for Charlie to return to.”

“I didn’t volunteer for nothing!” exclaimed Angel Dust.

"I have every faith in you, Vaggie!” Charlie said, her voice taking a far-off tone as she also disappeared. “We’ll be back before you know it!”

Vaggie turned to Charlie. “Please, be careful up there! And, whatever you do, don’t—” She tried grabbing her hand but found nothing. Whatever warnings she intended to pass along were never heard.

As quiet as a breath, the group had disappeared.

______________________________

They were definitely in New Orleans. Tiny balconies overlooked the street from the second floors of the buildings surrounding them. His clothes clung to his skin, soaking in every drop of moisture it could hold. Alastor could even make out the smell of spices of Cajun cuisine from a restaurant nearby.

But something was wrong.

An oppressive buzz of electrical energy surrounded him, threatening to overwhelm his own magic. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the hum of static in the air—he had been a radio show host, after all, and quite adept with the technology of his time—but it was nothing like this. Smog, as thick as Hell’s and almost as noxious, spewed from automobiles unlike the ones he remembered. There were more of them too, almost as many vehicles as there were people.

Something had gone horribly wrong.

Space was simple enough to traverse. Moving from one physical point to another was as easy as a snap of his fingers. Or, in this case, a few taps of his mic. Time, on the other hand, was much trickier. It wasn’t linear like one would imagine, but almost a gordian knot, twisting and turning into itself, with present, future and past all jumbled together until it was hard to distinguish between the three.

Alastor found Charlie a few paces away, no worse for wear. The bags were neatly by her side. “You all right, my dear?”

“I should’ve asked what weather to dress for before I started packing,” she said, fanning herself. Even with the thin material, she was clearly regretting her choice of outfit. She might be accustomed to the heat of Hell, but the humidity was something else. “At least our luggage made it. But what about Husk and Niffty? I don’t see them anywhere!”

“Meow!”

They looked down. A black cat with rather unusual ears for the average feline glared at them, at him more specifically.

“Why, Husk, my good fellow!” Alastor said, partly to distract himself from his growing headache. “Why the long face?”

“Oh my!” exclaimed Charlie. She knelt to pick him up. To Alastor’s surprise, she did not end up getting scratched. “What happened to Husk?!”

Alastor waved dismissively. “Not to worry! This is simply the result of his glamour.”

“Yip!”

A small black and tan mutt nosed his shoe, tail wagging so fast it might fly off. Feathered ears perked at the sound of his voice. Alastor’s grin widened as he scooped up the animal and held it under one arm.

“I knew I could count on you to stay close by, Niffty.”

“Niffty!?” Charlie bit her lip, but he could see the corners of her mouth turn up, as if torn between disbelief and excitement. “I mean, I guess this disguises them.” An alarmed look crossed her face. “They won’t stay this way permanently, right?”

“Of course not, my dear! Probably.”

“Al!”

“The spell will revoke once we return to Hell, glamours and all,” said Alastor, rubbing his fingers to his temples.

During their exchange he caught a glimpse of some passersby taking notice of their group. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t mind putting them in their place, but right now he was not in the mood. Between the drain on his magic and the unpleasant realization of when he was, he wanted nothing more than privacy.

“We probably should get to our hotel to check in.”

With Niffty still under his arm, Alastor grabbed Husk’s bag and placed it on top of the black luggage. He also managed to situate the extra bags Charlie packed—why did she have to pack so much?—onto the larger suitcase she had dragged with her. He regretted his decision to turn the two into animals. An extra pair of hands would’ve been welcome.

“Well, my dear, ready to go? I would offer a hand, but—”

“Oh, no! Don’t worry about it! We have our hands full with these two.” Charlie juggled Husk awkwardly as she reached for her luggage. “Lead the way!”

He took a deep breath, strengthening his resolve.

“Hey, Alastor.”

The Radio Demon looked back. His grin nearly slipped from his face; his throbbing head momentarily forgotten. She was clearly struggling, suitcase veering off course. Husk had clawed into her sweatshirt and climbed his way up to perch on her shoulder. And yet she smiled, a smile brighter than the sun beating down on them.

The shades covering his eyes were not enough to protect him.

“This is unbelievable,” said Charlie. “You’re amazing!”

She could not know. She could never know. That the great Radio Demon had made an error of this magnitude, of this caliber. She had to believe this was all part of his plan, for this trip she desired, that he foolishly granted.

Alastor gritted his teeth and forced his grin even wider.

This was going to be Hell on Earth.

#hazbin hotel #radiobelle #charlastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #charlie morningstar #chalastor #charlie x alastor #alastor x charlie #platonic chaggie #maybe one sided chaggie at most

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factual-fantasy · 3 months

Text

23 ASKS! :D Thanks ya'll!🎂

(Post in question)

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I'M SO GLAD YOU NOTICED!! :DDD✨💖✨

Now the only cool detail that you missed/I'd like to point out about the clones is.. they don't cast a shadow.. 👀

I have a vague memory of them.. I haven't seen their characters in a while- I imagine I still like them tho :0

@unicornfpotatoesdir

Thank you! Though sorry, I don't take drawing requests. And that sounds like its intended to be in a romantic light.. I don't dabble with ships, Sorry! <:/

@neo-metalscottic

AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD As for her growing power, I honestly don't know if it should be magical or not. Are there cookies in the game that can change size but its only due to magic?? I don't know-- I pictured it being something that she can just do and always could have. Idk if it would fit the games better if it was due to magic- I have no idea <XDD Sorry!

As for the Vegimals, I do intend to keep the original story. :0 Some strange eggs showed up in the side of the ship and boom! Out popped the Vegimals XDD

I'm sure the crew has done a lot to try and figure out what they are or where they came from. But there are some mysteries that just cannot be solved.. 😔

(Post in question)

:DD THANK YOU! I'm so glad you like her! :}}}

@sparkdrawsstuff

That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out <XDD but you're right about the found family idea! :D

So for the backstories, so far I have a few vague ideas..

Seafoam met Octo when he was like.. 10 years old..?? and Octo was like 2 or something- they grew up together as best friends and have been together their entire lives.

Now when they were teens/young adults, before they got their ship.. they worked in a local restaurant. Where they met Ellie. She was one of the cooks there. She loved to cook but she hated her job and hated her life. The only people who ever treated her with respect was Seafoam and Octo. So when they finally got their ship and were on their way to live out their pirate dream. Ellie went with them, and became their first crewmate.

Now for Louis I was thinking that he was really down on his luck when he met the crew. He had no friends, no family.. he lost his house, his job.. heck, his arm. Everything. I'm imagining him as some homeless person that the crew stumbled upon while they were passing by a fishing village of some kind. Somehow he joined the crew and became their fourth crewmate. Not sure how it happened but that's the idea-

Now the story for Blue is that when it was just the first 4 crewmates, their ship was out at sea and they hit a crazy storm. Their ship was a vessel meant for at least like 10 people, not 4. So when this storm hit there just wasn't enough hands on deck to control the ship. They needed to do this with the sails and do this over here and do that to stabilize it but they just couldn't keep up. Thankfully though its around that time that Blue was passing through and saw this ship clearly struggling against the storm. So out of the kindness of her heart she stuck with the ship and kept it balanced/afloat. Eventually guiding it to calmer waters and meeting the crew.

Seafoam was endlessly grateful for her help and thanked her. I think Blue wasn't used to people speaking so kindly to her.. so for a while she sheepishly followed the ship around and eventually just became an official member of the crew.

Now for the rest of the crew I don't really have an order in mind.. though I think Red was the most recent addition to the crew. Speaking of him- Red is Seafoam's great nephew. I haven't figured out the details but some kind of tragedy happened that took the life of him mom, and everyone else on his ship. Seafoam wasn't very connected to his sister or the family that she built. But he somehow heard about this disaster and got a hold of Red and took him aboard his crew.

There's also Pinwheel. I'm thiiiinking that they found her adrift at sea when she was like... 14..? And Seafoam really took her under his wing. He basically raised her. Her grim backstory before being lost at sea is still development-

Uhhh who else.. Oh! Cuttlefish. She was an experienced pirate from another crew that some how got stuck with Seafoam and his crew for a time. By the time she was able to leave, she decided to stick around becuase she really liked these people. I'm still working out the details-

As for Urchin, Coco, Tuna and Spidercrab though... aggghh I got nothin. I'm thinking that Coco was a stowaway..? And Tuna has clearly been through a lot. But their stories still need some time to develop 💔💔

(Also thank you for taking interest in my OCs! Its means a lot :}}} )

My good man I have done nothing but rest/sleep/hydrate/sit around for the past several weeks- 😭 If I rested anymore I'd be in a coma 💔💀

But have you considered, c h i c k e n

I don't intend to.. that just feels like a lot of work to get into- 😖

@minnesotamedic186

Oooo that sounds like a good character to take some inspiration from! :D

I'm goin through a very hard time atm but I'm doing my best!

@astaherussy (Post in question)

That is a TASTY prompt! 😋 Though I see it more likely that these things all happen separately as opposed to all at once. And I'm particularly interested in the first part of the prompt, since I haven't given Marsh much angst yet.. 👀👀

Marsh having a dream about his late wife.. and it just starts him off on the wrong foot that day. He seems more tired and gloomy than usual. But only Natquik picks up on it at first. Natquik might ask him how he's doing and Marsh says he's fine. Natquik isn't convinced but takes that as an "I don't wanna talk about it.." So he'd drop the subject.

But he could still try to do things to make Marsh feel better. Knowing that clearly he seems unwell today. Natquik would put in some extra work to help out around the swamp and pick up a lot of the tasks for Marsh. Just to give him some time to rest from what ever he's dealing with.

Later on that day, maybe at night time when Jack has already crashed for the night. Marsh could talk to Natquik and thank him for all his help. In which.. he might open up a bit. He could talk about the dream he had. "Its been years.. but it still hurts just as much as it did all that time ago." Natquik would be sympathetic. "I've lost those I love too.. it is hard to feel ok with it. I understand." They could talk, a few tears shed. But in the end Marsh feels like a weight has been lifted somewhat. It felt good to share his pain with someone..

alSO WAAAGH THANK YOU!! :DD I'm so happy to hear that you look forward to these posts! They take many hours to make sometimes <XDD

I have not, but a "happy" cartoon world corrupted with angst?? Color me interested! 👀👀

XDD Oh man, that would be spooky for sure! Though I worry about the stress that would put on his neck <XD Having to hold the weight of his entire body-

@2006-stupid-thatsme

I'm hanging in there as best I can, thank you for asking. <XD.. As for how I got into drawing, I'm not sure.. I've been drawing for as long as I can remember. I'm not sure what originally inspired me or got me started drawing. Though some of my oldest drawings are Sonic drawings, mostly Tails.. maybe that's what started it..? :0

And as for my style, that's hard to say too. I just draw what ever is easiest. Plus a lot of the shows/games/movies I like/draw are very cartoony. That's probably where my style comes from. :0

And My Little Pony? I have a lot of friends that are into it! But I myself have not watched it. Though I've heard that the story is actually a lot darker than people think.. 👀.. plus all the redesigns of the mane 6 look super fun! I've considered getting into it for sure.

Keeping up with another show though just feels like a lot of work rn.. 😔

@jesterpiecethejester (Post in question)

XD To be honest that drawing might be the brightest he can go. Any brighter and his coat would just be completely white XD

..Actually, imagining the foam and the coat kind'a fusing together and becoming this completely white fluffy coat with a long glowy cloudy train... Jester my good fellow you have given me a very good drawing idea 👀👀👀

@wdillustration

OOOO THIS MAKES ME THINK!! What kind of cookies would they be??? Of course there's the obvious "Polar bear cookie" and "Penguin cookie". But actually, like a food or a theme separate from the species of the character. What would they be??

My first thought is Tweak being a carrot cookie. <XD Kind'a plain but its a start.. Would Kwazii be a pirate stew cookie?? Or just "Pirate cat cookie"? Hmm.. would one of them be based on fish biscuits?? XDD

@chaotic-public-menace

OHHHH I SEE XDD Yeah that's a good idea! There's been a lot of times where I really want to finish a drawing and I'm excited to get it done! Buuuuut the drive kind'a dwindles and I start to slow down.. Taking a 5-10 minute break to doodle something else might be just the fix I need! :D

XD I'm not familiar with this meme unfortunately-

@manybrokenquills

XDD ITS OK!! THANK YOU!! :))))

@100percentevil

Uhg,, always a shame to see. Thank you for letting me know :(

@weirdweeb83

Such a pwebby kitty 💖💖💖

#my response #octonauts #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs #fnaf security breach #octodads

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freddleafton12345-blog · 3 months

Text

Shadow Milk with fem! Reader NSFW! U HAV BEEN WARNED, THIS HAS STUFF NOT 4 INNOCENT PEOPLE))

Plus he's forcing me 2 write this as he's over my shoulder help I'm scared-))

- he's sadistic and a major top

- he gets off just by seeing you getting wet for him

- "ohoo! Didn't expect you to be so wet! I'm impressed, I must say!"

- he can use his magic to create shadow tendrils that will either hold you up in the air. Or, they'll fuck you while he watches with amusement

- should you try and top him, he's gonna punish you BAD

- he can use his magic to make you feel pleasure for over several days, or even weeks. Depends on when he's had his fun

- he cracks jokes during sex, that's how silly he is ^^

-if you have a size kink, he'll gladly shift to be bigger, although he refuses to change into his full size (because that towers over a giant mansion and he doesn't wanna split you apart!)

- sometimes, he makes a stage and audience, THEN has his way with you

- "up next folks! Watch as my darling has to handle ALL my tentacles, hehehe!"

- even if you're embarrassed, he's not stopping

"Ahaha! You're doing splendidly! Let's add another tentacle!"

"Ah! R-really? You can't be seri- AH~!"

Another shadow tendril stuffed itself into your womb, you felt like you weren't gonna live after this.

Must your boyfriend be so sadistic and a jokester?

"Outstanding! Give it up for my dear darling, folks!" ShadowMilk exclaimed, and the fake audience clapped and cheered.

"Now, for the grand finale!"

Oh no.

Oh no, no NO.

You were so screwed. Literally.

ShadowMilk removed the tendrils and they vanished. Then he lined himself up with your entrance.

"Don't worry my dear! You took the tendrils, surely you can take THIS!"

"Gah~!" He slammed himself into you and started thrusting, like he was an animal in heat. You were hoping he'd be gentle.

But he never was, and secretly, you usually liked him having his way with you.

"Fuck! Yeah, you're gonna get a taste of my milk! Mmm..oh GODS YES!" He seemed very into what he was doing with you, because you could see the stage start to glitch. Like he wasn't concentrating on keeping it up with his magic because he was focusing on chasing his own high.

Your head was spinning, your legs felt numb, and he just didn't stop.

Hadn't you already came?

Oh wait, that's right.

He can go on for WEEKS till he's satisfied.

"Fuck yes- ah, you're- taking me so good~! Fuck I'm almost there~!" His moans got louder and more higher pitched as he neared

You screamed as you finally came, and the audience cheered and roared.

"AHH~! Hah...hah...Give it up for my darling everyone, we hope you enjoyed the show!"

You felt so full of his cum. You also felt very sore.

As the stage and crowd vanished, he pulled out of you, giggling. Of course HE felt fine, while you felt sore everywhere.

"Aww, come now my dear. Chin up. You took my cock so well, I think you should have a treat!"

He layed down and cleaned you up with his magic, then held you against his naked body.

He never did this.

Why now?

Wait. Did he truly-

"I love you, darling..." And with that, he shut his eyes to go to sleep.

You felt happier now. Rather than leaving you to clean yourself, and leaving, he finally stayed to take care of you.

Maybe he wasn't so sadistic after all

#shadow milk x reader crk x reader #crk x reader #shadow milk crk #shadow milk cookie #why am i writing this?#hear me out on him tho

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random-and-average · 11 months

Text

Yandere Miguel O'Hara with Shadow Wizard!S/O

Author's Note: I spent hours pondering how to make this work, but I came up with nothing that would make sense in terms of the movie. Thus, my rationale is that, if the multiverse details every single possibility and change, then magic has to exist in one of them, right? (Please just let me have this :']) Also, this headcanon is most likely the darkest one I've made so far. With great power comes great suffering, it seems.

Content Warning(s): kidnapping, confinement, mentioned drugging, exploitation, stalking, Google translate Spanish, extremely bad writing

At first, Miguel would try to find a way to use your magic to benefit him while determining your specialties and limits

Of course, those a part of the Shadow Wizard Money Gang Secret Society (SWSS) have to be exceptionally good at magic, so you're no exception

(Although, the society exclusively practices conjuration, transmutation, and necromancy magic because I don't see a Shadow Wizard society practicing things like divination or abjuration)

At the very least, if you refuse to use your magic to serve someone who is lesser than you, you'll just have to conjure random items that Spider-People need, such as a screwdriver or stepping stool

At most, if you're willing to be under Miguel's orders, you will be a semi-member of the Spider-Society, so you'll be brought on missions to aid in maintaining the order of the multiverse

On the off chance that Miguel has free time, he'll demand you see him so that he can witness you utilize your magic

Your universe's Spider-Man, if he is a part of Miguel's society, is internally cursing the entirety of the SWSS for causing him trouble outside of his universe

"Do you guys have to cause chaos in every location you're in?" Spider-Mage complained as he followed you around. As your universe's original Spider-Man, he was tasked to monitor you while you get comfortable at headquarters, though the two of you hated the idea of being in the other's presence.

"And do you have to be a wet carpet in every location you're in?" You quipped. "Spirits forbid you cast a minor transmutation spell! You might just upset the very order of magic with that one."

"I fail to see how using a shrinking spell to make Webslinger think his horse went missing is a 'minor transmutation spell,' but please enlighten me."

"I can't enlighten a fool who thinks size reduction is anything more than a minor spell. Inherent ineptitude isn't something that can be fixed immediately."

"Why you..."

»»-———¯\_(ツ)_/¯———-««

The moment he grasps the full scope of your abilities, including your necromancy ones, he'll start taking up more of your time until all of your days are spent with him

Granted, at this point it's not out of love, but so you can bring the family that he lost and was never able to get back no matter how hard he tried back

And he will force you to truly resurrect them, no matter the price

Diamonds? A body? Something holy? Something cursed? Anything you need, he'll provide it for you

You'll be confined to a solitary room until you get the spell right, unable to see anyone but Miguel when he provides you the materials to resurrect them

He can't afford you being distracted when the possibility of getting his family back is within reach

Unfortunately, the main component of true resurrection is that the soul of the person is willing to be brought back to life

Main problem? Only Gabriella is willing to come back, both of his wives meanwhile...

You can't even plead with them to come back, as Miguel doesn't have either wife's corpse

And he refuses to not have both his wife and child

So you're forced to stay in that cramped room and sleep on an uncomfortable mattress for longer, draining your energy repeatedly casting the same spell

With nothing grounding you to the present except for the buzzing of fluorescent lights, you started wondering how long it had been since Miguel quite literally dragged you to this small room in order to fulfill his deranged fantasies.

'Bring back my family,' he demanded from you as if you could just perfectly resurrect people at the press of a button, and even then, with his distasteful personality, you doubted the reunion would be all sunshine and rainbows.

However, you were starting to get desperate.

You didn't care how he was going to insane lengths to bring back his dead wife and daughter. You didn't care that the former individual didn't want to come back. You didn't care that he somehow was able to not only supply but continuously provide the materials you needed to cast the spell.

You just wanted to get out of this prison.

You couldn't stand the buzzing lights; the stiff spring mattress that reeked of body odor due to you not being able to shower; the putrid stench and humiliating sight of the toilet bucket, stripping you of your pride as a Shadow Wizard; the monochrome color scheme of this spirit forsaken cell that was exacerbated by the grey concrete walls all around you; the lack of being able to interact with anyone, save for the madman that brought you here; and the fact that you were only here to be exploited, to be treated like a tool that can be used whenever and however its owner pleases.

The screeching noise of metal against concrete stole your attention and forced you to look at the only person who would enter this miserable room.

"I have the needed materials."

You couldn't help but sneer at Miguel's statement. His straight-forwardness was refreshing at times, but in this situation, it infuriated you. He didn't even politely request that you cast a difficult spell or ensured that you were comfortable to do so. If only he knew that, back in your dimension, people would get on their hands and knees to beg you to cast a simple spell.

"What makes you think that your wife will allow herself to be brought back? She hasn't done it in the past, so what would make her change now? You might as well give up or settle for only Gabriella being resurrected," you reasoned. Hopefully, he still had enough sanity to know that what he wanted was a pipe dream. If he did, it would mean you would be able to be freed sooner.

"She might have finally come around to the idea that it's better to come back to her husband."

Rage almost compelled you to lash out at him. How easy it was for him to talk as if he was minorly inconvenienced by his wife's refusal when you were the one suffering because of it. Though, you reigned your anger in since you wanted to reduce the amount of time you had to spend in this place.

Miguel would eventually understand that achieving his dream was futile, and some vengeful part of you wished to see him break down in despair when he does.

»»-———¯\_(ツ)_/¯———-««

His feelings for you only start to change once he realizes that, regardless of how many times you cast True Resurrection, neither of his wives will be willing to come back

Miguel is obviously devastated by these turn of events

Suddenly, he is much more aware of how lonely he was this entire time, and it's too much for him to bear alone

So he finds comfort in someone that has no choice but to provide him solace, you

Slowly, with each visit (or counselling sessions, basically), he grows fond of you

You are the only one who stood next to him when he was at his lowest (even if it was unwillingly)

In gratitude, you are let out of your room, but you're limited to the entirety of headquarters, nothing outside of it

He can't let you leave after you saw him when he was the most vulnerable he'd ever been since the loss of his second family; you were special

Eventually, the longer you stay by his side, his fondness for you grows into something else as he takes note of your interests, quirks, and minute features

"Miguel? Miguelllllllll. Are you even listening to me?"

Lyla appeared in front of the footage of you laughing with the other Spider-People as you demonstrated that you, too, were capable of shooting webs like them, forcing Miguel's attention to focus on her rather than you.

"Por el amos de Dios (for fuck's sake), what do you want, Lyla? I'm busy."

The woman gave him a stare that indicated that she didn't believe him. "Yeahhh, busy doing what exactly? Busy being a creep?"

"I'm busy monitoring the anomaly to ensure they don't interfere with the multiverse."

She scoffed, "You and I both know that they have no intention of doing so. If they did, they would've done it already, seeing as they have plenty of magic at their disposal. Obviously, you're stalking them out of your own self-interests."

Miguel glared at the hologram as he turned off the footage with a frustrated huff.

"I don't care what you think about me, but any word about this to anyone else, especially them, and I will erase you. Understand?"

All of Lyla's sass vanished faced with the man's glowing red stare that pierced through her being. Although she wished he was just bluffing, his tone clearly showed otherwise.

"...I understand." And with that, she disappeared.

»»-———¯\_(ツ)_/¯———-««

You'll know when Miguel is completely besotted with you

He will start taking up more of your time, just like he did when he understood your necromancy magic

This time, however, it's not to resurrect his dead family; it's to just spend time with him

It starts out as being forced to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner with him

Then it turns into full-fledged "dates" where he allows you to explore various dimensions under his supervision

Finally, you are forced to choose to have a microchip implanted in your body so that Miguel knows where you are 24/7; be magically bound to Miguel through a sacred ritual, courtesy of an intimidated Spider-Mage following orders; or stay by Miguel 24/7

Of course, the man does feel guilty for keeping you in the equivalent of solitary confinement

As a result, he is willing to bend the knee to you at times, giving into your demands as long as they aren't too "unreasonable"

He will spend the rest of his life atoning for what he did to you

Dedicates a space for you in his home where you can cast and experiment with as many spells as you desire

(It has cameras hidden in every nook and cranny in case you start dabbling in magic that'll take you away from him)

Absolutely melts inside when you start becoming less hostile/defensive towards him

(However, if your hostility doesn't stop, he'll simply remedy the issue by sneaking a love potion—once again, courtesy of Spider-Mage—into your drink)

Without fail, he takes a week-long break on your "honeymoon" every year, which usually involves visiting your home dimension

Speaking of your home dimension, the Shadow Wizard Secret Society (SWSS) initially doesn't take too kindly to one of their own being romantically involved with a magic-less person

But as the saying goes: if there's a will, there's a way

After a few choice threats and an offer to provide them with any needed materials, they're perfectly fine with Miguel

Though your colleagues pity you for being bound to such a lowly lifeform

Miguel loves seeing you cast magic and will even set aside some time for you to show him your power if you desire it

Secretly looks forward to watching you teach your future children magic

Gave you access to his desk, so you can also watch the Spider-People

Even allows you to be there while he discusses plans, mainly because Lyla likes having you there

(She sometimes begs you to demonstrate your magical prowess by having you animate objects into recreating the plan)

Will keep you in the dark about plans concerning individuals that could negatively influence you, specifically Miles and Hobie

Jealous of any creature you summon/conjure, even if it's to do a task; though, his jealousy intensifies if it's a humanoid

Goes through the effort of learning wizard customs (courtesy of Spider-Mage, like always)

All things considered, it was a normal day for you. You just spent hours watching movies that Miguel bought for you in his massive luxury apartment, and there weren't alarms about a rogue anomaly. The entire day so far was peaceful and uneventful, really.

And that made the alarms in your head go off.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your homunculus dropped right beside you on the couch with an excited chirp. With a smile, you pet your servant.

"So, is Miguel hiding something from me again?"

It tapped the cushion twice. Yes.

"I knew it," you sighed. "I wonder if it has something to do with Hobie again."

You got up from the sofa with a groan as you stretch, and your homunculus jumped down to join you. However, you picked it up and placed it back where it was.

"You'll have to stay here for now, Empanada. Wouldn't want the mean spider to know who gave away his plans."

The homunculus, Empanada (You honestly thought that it deserved a better name, but Jess jokingly suggested that Miguel would like it more if you named after something he liked), whined, but it ultimately laid down on a pillow, indicating that it wouldn't follow you.

With your homunculus out of the way, you closed your eyes and pictured the meeting area that you were familiar with as well as the empty chair that was reserved for you.

"Teleport."

Rather than feeling the soft cushions of your chair, you felt the sensation of falling from the sky, and when you opened your eyes, that was indeed the case since you teleported a good amount of feet above the ground. "Are you kidding me right now?"

Expectedly, the people in the room didn't anticipate your arrival.

"I didn't know that they could teleport!"

"Gwen, you didn't tell me that there was a Spider-Person that could come out of thin air!"

"Oh ho, that person is the last person Miguel would want to be here."

"Querido/Querida!"

Before you could cast another spell, you find yourself in Miguel's arms while he chided you.

"What are you doing here? You should be back at home!"

"Don't think I'm stupid, Mig. I know something's up when there's nothing going on."

"That doesn't mean you should cast such a dangerous spell!"

"Any wizard worth their salt knows how to cast a teleportation spell. Besides, it's only 'dangerous' if you're not skilled enough."

"...Mi vida, we're having a talk after this."

Miguel set you gently onto the ground, and you steadied yourself before you saw that there was a seemingly new addition to the Spider-Society, a Spider-Man who looked to be bleeding out of his armpits.

"You didn't tell me that you recruited a new Spider-Man, Miguel."

"That's because I didn't. I had Jess bring him here because he disrupted a canon event in Earth-50101."

"Lemme guess, someone was supposed to die, and he saved them, right?"

"It would be for the sake of the multiverse-"

"So you say. Anyways," you turn to the new Spider-Man, "what's your name?"

"Miles. Miles Morales."

There was something about him that made him stand out from the millions of people you've seen across your life so far. Even though you've never touched divination magic, you could tell that Miles was destined for great things.

And you wanted to be there to experience those things.

"Something tells me that you and I are going to get along real well, Miles."

#yandere #yandere x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere atsv #atsv x reader

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naamahdarling · 1 year

Text

I got permission to post pics of my boyfriend's Giftmas present!

It's customized Littlest Pet Shop kitties to match our Magical Kitties Save the Day characters! I hope you like them!

Top, Boogie, bottom left Little John, middle Silas, right Notch.

These lil guys are like 2" tall, so they are really little and fiddly to work on.

More below the cut!

Silas, my boyfriend's PC, a lovely boy good at solving problems and helping others feel better. His magical power is aura reading. He lives in an occult bookshop and I painted him after one of my favorite breeds, the Somali (aka longaired Abyssinian). I sculpted extensively around his eyes to change their shape.

Boogie/Bougainvillea/Boogs, the heart of the party. Scrappy little tough girl, brave, silly, very young and so full of life and joy. She loves humans and craves adventure. My fave NPC in a REALLY long time. She has sonic/sound powers she doesn't know about yet. She's the one I made Fat and Even Cuter. Also note her snaggletooth and funny half-squint. I sculpted that! I also bobbed her tail, which you can't see. Please note how little she is compared to the others. Her body is the size of the last joint of my thumb!

Notch, originally Firefly. He can fly on magical shimmery wings. He grew up in one of the wild prides surrounding town but a change in leadership had him heading into human habitation. He drifts around the town now, belonging to no one...but his new kitty family of Boogs and Silas. Despite being a former champion for his pride, he is thoughtful, quiet, and kind. And around Silas, he is very very shy. 🎶 Whoa-oh-oh, caught in a cat romance! 🎶

I sculpted him a stronger chin and put a notch in his ear but he's otherwise unchanged.

Aaaaand Little John. He's a crotchety, ancient Persian who lives in Treehouse Toys as a shop cat, where he spends most of his time sleeping amid the plush toys, for which he is frequently mistaken. His grumpy nature means few kitties visit to hear the tall tales of adventure he tells, and fewer still believe them, but know this: Little John was once a hero.

Little John was extensively altered. I altered his muzzle and chin for the Persian look, made him bulkier in the body, doubled his ruff, gave him old man eyebrows, and gave him a lot more sculpted fur on his head.

I want to do a few more if there's time (merkitty himbo Tiptoe, wise old seer Briar, cheerful champion Kindlebright, brave pride leader and mother Vix, eyeless quasi-feline shadow entity Asphodel) but my big concern is making a little forest display for them so they can sit on a bookshelf together.

#my art #magical kitties save the day

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blackjackkent · 4 months

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Jaheira rubs a cloth from her pack slowly along the sleek blade of one of her scimitars and examines its edge with an appraising eye. For a little while she pretends to ignore the small shape creeping around the edge of the fire towards her, but eventually Boo is sitting almost at her knee and she gives the hamster a sidelong glance.

"What is it then, small one?" she says dryly, the pale green pulse of an animal speech spell flaring around her body.

Boo perches up on his back legs and peers up at her with that beady, unreadable stare. Jaheira looks back thoughtfully, raising one eyebrow.

She reflects, not for the first time, that for all that Minsc often seems mad, it is hard to ignore that there is something about the little beast that is more than bestial. The little dark eyes shine with intelligence, and he is the only creature she has ever attempted to speak to with aid of magic that has deliberately not deigned to speak back.

And it is no different today. Boo ignores the spell and simply squeaks once, loudly, then turns and looks back across the fire towards the bedrolls of the camp. Jaheira follows his gaze, and has to resist the urge to smile. Minsc is peering around the edge of one of the tents with an air of stealth that would be more appropriate if he were about half the size that he is.

She has not spoken to him since their argument when they first arrived back from the sewers, and though Boo offers no words, the message is clear. You have grieved him. Will you not clear the air?

"He does not need to hide," she tells Boo softly. "You may tell him so."

Boo squeaks again and scurries off into the shadows.

She returns to the care of her weapons and does not look up when she hears the Rashemaar's heavy footfalls at her side.

"May Minsc sit?" he rumbles.

She smiles slightly. "You feel you must ask permission?"

He drops down at her side and stares into the slowly dying flames. A silence stretches for a few moments before he says haltingly, "I still do not understand all of your anger, Jaheira. But if Minsc has given offense, then he shall not rest until the offense is eased." A pause. "Minsc has lost too many witches. He does not want to lose you."

Jaheira draws a slow breath, lets it out heavily. "You have not lost me, Minsc," she says quietly. "It was I who almost lost you." She frowns. "And I have also lost too much to suffer that lightly."

Minsc looks at her sideways. "But you will not be my Wychlaran," he says. It is not a question, just a flat, tired statement of fact.

She sighs. "Minsc... do you think I did not listen when you spoke to Dynaheir, to Aerie? It was a bond of trust, entered into willingly by both sides. You cannot claim me in such a bond without my knowledge." A pause. "If you wished a place at my side, you should have asked me. Not claimed space within me like a conqueror."

He considers that in silence. "Jaheira, as always, speaks more wisely than Minsc can even think," he agrees after a little while. His mouth draws into a tight line. Then, in a very low voice, he adds, "Minsc has been afraid."

At that, she does lift her head away from her attention on the blades and looks at him directly for the first time. She knows Minsc well enough to know that this is an admission he would make to no one else.

"So many things have changed, Jaheira. I do not remember my time as a stone, for to Minsc it passed like lightning, like a blink - something and then nothing, and then something again but with more itching. Itching and loneliness. Had I a witch she would have soothed both. But I had none... Dynaheir was dead many a long year, and Aerie so far away that Minsc might never see her again..."

She nods slowly. She still remembers the keen, biting emptiness in her chest in the days after Khalid's death - the knowledge that she had been hurt beyond measure and that the one who would have eased the pain was beyond her reach. "You had only me."

"Yes," he answers, and a little more energy comes back into his voice. "And it seemed to Minsc that you must be my new witch, for you were the only one I trusted so, and a Rashemaar without his witch is like Boo without a bit of grain - quite empty." A pause. "Minsc forgot that for Minsc to have a witch, the witch must also have Minsc."

Jaheira smiles slightly and reaches over to rest a hand lightly on his knee. "I will not call myself Wychlaran - but you have me at your side, no matter the name, Minsc," she says quietly. "I did not travel yet again through the Baldurian sewer muck simply to toss you away."

His shoulders relax a little and she can see the slight curve of his lips back into his more accustomed smile. "Good. Minsc is glad to hear it," he says quietly.

For a little while, they sit in companionable silence, watching as the flames slowly drift lower and lower. Boo crawls back out of the shadows, dragging a carrot from the camp supply sack larger than he is; settling between them, he begins to gnaw contentedly on his prize. Jaheira begins to feel some of the tension that has been her constant companion for so many months beginning to bleed away. So much danger still lies ahead... but her friend, at least, is safe again, and that makes such a tremendous difference. He is not one of those she has lost, not yet.

"So," Minsc says abruptly after a little while. "This new monk you travel with. Hector. Tell me of him."

Jaheira stirs, jarred loose from reverie, and has to take a moment to collect her thoughts enough to answer. "A good man, I think," she says slowly after a little while. "He has seen as much in a few months as we did in all our time in Amn, and still stands as straight as he did the day I met him."

Minsc nods. "Minsc sees Rasaad in him," he says gravely.

Jaheira says nothing for a moment. Then she nods. "He has much the same temperament. He says little and sees much. Even when we were closest, Rasaad often said little of what was in his heart, and I think Hector also holds much he does not reveal."

"And he is not quick to catch a joke," Minsc points out with a sudden broad grin. "He said to Minsc that the bond of a Wychlaran sounded only like friendship. At that Minsc laughed, for such a thing should be laughed at, and said that by such a thought, the whole camp is full of my Wychlarans! But the monk did not laugh in turn; Minsc is not sure he saw the jest."

Jaheira grins crookedly. "Perhaps he did not. Certainly that was also a failing in Rasaad at times; perhaps Selunites are not trained in the art of humor." A long pause. "But I like him, Minsc. He is brave in spite of great fear - and good reason for it. He loves fiercely, friend and lover alike. He kills doppelgangers with only his fists. And there are shades of Caden in him, too; I think he would be kind even though it killed him."

Minsc squares his shoulders stoutly. "Then Minsc and Boo shall see to it that it does not kill him, for they shall kick the butts of all by his side." Boo lifts his head, his cheeks fat with a great mouthful of carrot, and gives a muffled squeak.

Jaheira chuckles. "He is in good hands indeed, then."

"Hands and paws," Minsc amends with a wide grin.

"Of course," she says, and grins back. "How could I forget?"

#my writing #bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #caden of candlekeep #drabble #jaheira #bg3 jaheira #bg3 minsc #minsc #bg3 boo #bg3 drabble #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #i never know how to tag this stuff #pretty pleased with this though c:#really wanted to write a bit of their interaction and smooth over some of the minor bits of minsc's bg3 intro that bothered me #(mostly i've loved all of it but some things needed addressing :D )#i'm really having a lot of feelings about jaheira lately

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thefrenchydude · 14 days

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Could we have a character sheet for Macaque and Wukong, and for the other characters in the visual novel, please?

Oki doki (sorry for the time it took me to anwser it ;-;)

Name: Sun Wukong

Age: ??? (physical appearance: 27)

Place: Flower Fruit Mountain

Status: Demon King

Physical description:

Sun Wukong has a sleek, athletic appearance, with supple, powerful muscles. His sparkling eyes reflect a sharp intelligence mixed with a glint of madness. His golden skin seems to emit a glow of its own. His smile is often teasing, but behind this facade lies a deep intensity.

Personality:

With an oversized ego and an impulsive temperament, Sun Wukong is as charismatic as he is dangerous. His self-confidence borders on arrogance, and he'll stop at nothing to achieve his goals. Beneath his mischievous exterior lies an obsessive possessiveness and a sickly jealousy. He'll do anything to protect what he considers his, even if it means resorting to extreme methods (unless it hurts his beloved Peach).

Abilities:

As Monkey King, Sun Wukong is a master of the martial arts, able to fight with superhuman agility and power. He is also a master of the mystic arts, including metamorphosis, teleportation and the manipulation of natural elements. He can also duplicate himself and use his hair to create things like objects or food. His magic staff, the Ruyi Jingu Bang, is a formidable weapon capable of changing size at will.

Relationship:

Sun Wukong is deeply obsessed by his love for his Reader. His relationship with Reader is intense, oscillating between all-consuming passion and overwhelming possessiveness.

Motivation:

Sun Wukong's main motivation is to protect and conquer Reader at all costs. Nothing can stop him in his quest to obtain the absolute love of the person he desires, even if it means destroying everything in his path.

Special note:

Due to his yandere nature, Sun Wukong is extremely dangerous to anyone who comes between him and his Peach. His actions are often unpredictable and violent. Better not get close to Reader.

Macaque

Name: Liu'er Mihou

Age: ??? (physical appearance: 27)

Place: Flower Fruit Mountain

Status : Demon king

Physical description:

Liu'er Mihou is a demon physically quite similar to Wukong. He has silky black fur that glistens in the sunlight, and he takes good care of it. He has three ears on both sides of his face -6 in all-. His charming smile can go from warm to menacing in an instant, revealing his sharp, pointed teeth. His posture is always elegant, accentuating his aura of mystery and danger.

Personality:

Liu'er Mihou is closed and calculating towards anyone other than Reader and Wukong. Once he's with Reader, things change and he becomes a lamb who loves the touch of his love. His jealousy is fierce, and he's ready to get rid of anyone who come between him and Reader.

Abilities:

Liu'er Mihou possesses demonic agility and strength, as well as exceptional intelligence.

He excels in the art of combat and manipulation, and can use his charm to get what he wants from Reader. He can also blend into his natural environment and move with silent grace. His acute sense of hearing and smell enable him to track any prey with frightening precision. He can also manipulate shadows to: control someone's movements, duplicate himself, open portals or plunge places into a kind of shadow dimension…

Relationships:

Liu'er Mihou is deeply obsessed with Reader, whom he considers the love of his life. He can't stand the idea of anyone else getting close to his Reader, and is ready to eliminate any perceived threat. His relationship with Reader oscillates between tenderness and ardent desire, not hesitating to tease his love. And he's ready to use any means necessary to make sure Reader is his forever.

Motivation:

Liu'er Mihou's main motivation is to keep his love safe and close at all costs. He's willing to sacrifice everything to ensure that no one else can get close to him -unless it's Wukong, both are cool with the sharing part, even if it wasn't easy at first-. His obsession is fueled by an insatiable desire for more of Reader.

Special note:

Due to his yandere nature, Liu'er Mihou is extremely dangerous to anyone who comes between him and his Reader.

For the rest I will write it later, I have other ask to anwser. I know I'm very slow to do it, but I will so no worry.

#lmk mk #monkie kid #fiction #yandere wukong #murderous lust #yandere #sorry for the mistakes #i'm still french #sun wukong

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karniss-bg3 · 7 months

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Something I think about an bit is spiders are cold blooded so are driders and if so how dose kar’niss del with winter or the shadow lands they look quite cold and last question could you ever tell me how you think an drider book lung works (aha sorry that’s all and I love your posts)

I had to go down some wacky rabbit holes to really hash this one out. One thing I will say for this blog, it’s made me more educated about topics I never would’ve considered before. I expect by the time my tenure is finished I’ll walk away a certified genius.

...Or just as goofy as I’ve always been. Either way it’s a net positive.

Here is the problem I run into when trying to work out the intricacies of fantasy creatures...I don’t know what rules to use. By that I mean there are nuances to consider when asking “How does Kar’niss _____?” Am I basing this off of real world examples or examples from the world in which they are from? If so how does that impact the overall conclusion I come to? Is it fair to compare a drider to an animal from our planet without knowing the physics of Faerun? Is their gravity the same, the climate, the oxygen distribution, the atmosphere? It’s the classic “Adrian overthinks bullshit because he doesn’t know how to do otherwise” story hour. That isn’t even taking into consideration how magic may impact the answer especially considering magic is intangible and a made up concept whose rules change from medium to medium. This is the world’s most frustrating fun house where every mirror reflects a different outcome and I’m too derpy to consider them all.

Now that I’ve got the long winded non-sense out of the way, here is the best assessment I could cobble together.

The problem with Kar’niss’ anatomy is it’s unclear how the two halves work together. Spiders in our world do have lungs but they do not have active breathing mechanisms like a diaphragm in humans. However, Kar’niss has the ability to speak, ragged as it may be. This leaves me with the assumption that the lungs in his torso still function, giving him the ability to inhale and exhale in order to talk. But Kar’niss’ heart and lungs would be far too small and pathetic to maintain the spider half with as large as it is. So I have to conclude that even if the two halves of them are attached, the only thing shared between them is a digestive tract. The blood he consumes has to go somewhere and he can’t nourish only one half and neglect the other. I believe all of his digestion is done in the spider half and the stomach in his drow torso is basically non-functional as a result.

Where we run into a bit of a hitch more stems from how big Kar’niss is. Even if his spider body doesn’t have to worry about maintaining the drow torso via heart and lungs, it has another issue; Available oxygen. Prehistoric insects from the Carboniferous period were huge, far larger than anything we see today. This is because of how dense our air was with oxygen which allowed them to increase in size without side-effects. So I have to ask, how high is the oxygen content in Faerun? Does it matter? Probably not! It does make me wonder how an arachnid body that large, whether drider or giant spider, survives if the oxygen in the air is low. Humans, giants, demons, driders and all manner of creatures can co-exist in a fantasy realm where the rules are made up and the points don’t matter.

While I could go into detail about the difference between human lungs and spider lungs I think I’d be splitting hairs at that point. When it comes to Kar’niss I think both bodies have working organs that are suited to the body they are in, which is the only reason this macabre union works at all.

As for how Kar’niss survives the cold that is also an interesting question to answer. Driders don’t usually wear armor but they can if so inclined, which means they aren’t worried about being naked as a jay bird. This question is a bit compounded by the fact that most driders don’t leave the Underdark, an area notorious for lack of sunlight. So I had to tap dance my way back to real world spiders to find a reasonable answer for this.

The first step in how spiders survive the winter is by adapting to the cold temperatures. They do this by increasing their metabolic rate, which helps them generate more heat. This allows them to stay warm even in the coldest temperatures. They also produce antifreeze proteins, which help them survive in temperatures as low as -10°C. Another strategy spiders use to survive the winter is by avoiding freezing. When temperatures drop too low, spiders can start to freeze with the water particles surrounding them. To prevent this, spiders produce cryoprotectants, which help them survive in sub-zero temperatures. These cryoprotectants act like antifreeze, preventing the spider’s cells from freezing and allowing them to survive even in the coldest temperatures.

While I am not sure if this is the same thing driders would do, I imagine they must come with some way to contend with ambient temperatures to keep themselves from freezing. I vote slapping a striped scarf on him and hand him a cup of hot cocoa. It’ll taste like ass to him, but it should do the trick all the same. Just don’t let him spit out the hot liquid onto your face, I am not responsible for any burn related injuries that may occur.

I hope even a fraction of this made sense. It was the long way of saying “RANDOM BULLSHIT, GO!” Eh, close enough.

Thanks for the ask!

(Side note: I just learned drider vampires exist. As if things weren't already fucked up enough for the poor bastards.)

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #drider #bg3 #karniss #baldurs gate 3 #answered #drow #drider anatomy #theorycrafting #Don't ask how many tabs I had open while researching #the answer is “too many”#my search history is going to put me on a list stg

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httyddragonfox · 4 months

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Hazbin Hotel: Power Rate Scale: Reality Warp Level

It seems really powerful people in this show can warp reality to their whims. Of course different people have different levels of how much they can do.

First, let's start with Alastor, I believe he's the lowest on this list. He has the ability to control shadow beings, and maybe he has voodoo magic. He can also manipulate how people are dressed, make certain objects appear in voodoo smoke, and can change the scenery around as he showed in "Hell's greatest Dad." I believe his power is akin to Dr. Facilier magic, messing with the appearance of things as well as people's perceptions and summoning shadow minions to do his bidding. He's the lowest on this list as he is probably the most powerful sinner, if not one of them.

Above Alastor, we have Charlie and Adam, I'm not sure who would come before who. Let's start with Adam, a very powerful soul who went to Heaven. He's able to play around with Charlie in the song "Hell is Forever," tossing her toward the gates only to throw her into a boiling pot which he is stirring. He also summons a guitar to play on as well as back up dancers. He summons clouds to walk on as well as the declaration of the moved up extermination. In "Welcome to Heaven," he summons paper to write on as well as a viewing sphere to watch Angel. Then there's Charlie, the daughter of a really powerful angel and demon. In the pilot she plays around with the scenery in order to get her point across, in the first episode she summons her notes to the meeting room. In the second episode, her footsteps seem to transport herself and Sir Pentious to a cloud filled area where fireworks spell out sorry. In "Welcome to heaven" she transports her notes to her in the court room and manipulates the images shown in the viewing sphere to get her point across. Their powers are quite similar, is just one is divine whereas she's more demonic. This makes it seem like Charlie has a similar amount of power to a deceased soul in Heaven, maybe slightly more as she has a demon form she hasn't popped out yet.

Next is Lucifer, as he has Genie level reality warp powers. Able to change the situation and pose people within them as if it was nothing, growing and shrinking them as he pleases, changing the scenery in seconds, making things bigger than notes appear (champagne fountains, caviar mountains) not to mention he can duplicate himself, that hasn't been seen yet. He can teleport, and make little pocket dimensions to fly around in. He can hide his wings and when they are released they are either small as in "Hell's greatest dad" or large as in "More than anything." I think he might have the ability to change his appearance slightly, as Seraphs have avian forms and it's theorized his is a swan, and he only appears as a demonic person as he's in hell and he can better fit in areas then.

Then there are the Seraphs in Heaven, I don't know if Lucifer is more powerful than them or not. We see them change their forms as they arrive in Heaven, Sera teleports herself, Lute, and Adam somewhere more private, Emily changes the imagery in the viewing sphere and summons Adam's note to take a look at it. We don't see them warp reality too much as they aren't as goofy and imaginative as Lucifer, we know they have a similar power-set to him, such as changing their appearance and summoning portals. That's all we know though.

Is Lucifer stronger than the Seraphs in Heaven and that's why they are afraid of him getting involved, or are they more powerful as they are in heaven and he is in Hell and he got a downgrade when he fell? Sera is certainly larger than him, of course she defends Heaven by allowing the exterminators to go kill souls in hell, so who knows if size equals power. She's definitely more powerful than Adam, as she's his boss. Maybe they all have a similar level of power.

Is Emily more powerful than Charlie though? She seems to be similar to her in status. The only thing we see Emily do that Charlie can't do is change her appearance. She is a younger Seraphim, maybe she's not as powerful yet. So Emily, Charlie and Adam have a similar level in power, meanwhile Lucifer and Sera have a similar level in power. Alastor is poweful sure, but he's only powerful for a damned soul.

Yes he has a large demon form, but Charlie still outranks him and hers is pretty small. Then again, there's a chance we may not have seen her full demon form.

TL;DR: I ranked their power on how much they could warp reality, from least to most: Alastor; Adam, Charlie, Emily; Sera and Lucifer.

#hazbin hotel #power rankings #alastor the radio demon #charlie morningstar #Emily the Seraphim #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin alastor #emily hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel sera #Reality warping

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toxinellebug · 5 months

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HESPERIA/BETTERFLY kamikotized heroes Headcanons PART 1

There will be a bunch of these, but I will most likely only do 2 heroes per post.

Let’s face it; no matter what universe, Gabriel and Adrien are cut from the same cloth, therefore you should be prepared for puns.

The following heroes are NOT in chronological order of appearance in the timeline, but I will do my best to give you a rough idea of when they show up.

Some Heroes will have more detail than others.

Mr. Banana becomes…. *drumroll please*

Banana Punch!

(Or in french, Pain Banane… Ok, hear me out, in French ‘pain aux bananes’ is banana bread, however, the word ‘pain’ is ALSO slang for ‘punch’.)

Mr. Banana himself is a ridiculous mascot character, with ‘banana’ being a pun in itself for having a big smile, and his catchphrase of “stay peachy” a translation of the french pun of positivity, so naturally it only makes sense that his kamikotized hero form is that of a smiling loaf of banana bread wearing a martial arts head-band, and boxing gloves to punch evil-doers trying to rob some old woman when there are no enforcers nearby.

Gabriel isn’t proud of it. But his power of Transmission gifts abilities that are best suited to the person’s emotions in that situation.

This Hero was a one-off that showed up before Shadybug and ClawNoir were introduced, and since only the old lady and her would-be robbers were witnesses, the act of heroism was swept under the rug for a long time because when Enforcers DID finally show up they just assumed the old lady was having a senior moment, and the two burly men had enough pride left NOT to confess they were bruised up by a loaf of banana bread, and instead claimed they were assaulted by some 6’9”, 230lb steroid fueled vigilante.

It took Alya FOREVER to connect the dots on this one, finally tracking down the old woman who was nearly robbed- because of course she would want to try to investigate vigilantes and see if they are tied to any conspiracies concerning a revolt against enforcers or an uprising against The Supreme….but even THIS was too far-fetched for her.

A little more digging led to the weirdest interview she has ever had. (There’s just something unsettling about those empty, soulless, banana eyes… *shiver*) But if you have a better explanation for how a scrawny dude in a banana costume can take on two brutes twice his size and walk away unbruised that DOESN’T involve magic, Alya would LOVE to hear it.

(Think about it, in S4, Shadowmoth had to search specifically for negative emotions that revolved around taking risks, this means he can not just assign any random power he wants to anyone having a bad day- the power has to match their mood and desire to change the situation that put them in that mood. That is one of the limitations of the power of the Butterfly Brooch.)

Funfact: “Akuma” roughly translates to ‘demon shadow’, therefore “kamiko” would most likely be ‘blessed child’, since “kami” is god/divine/blessed and the affix “ko” is ‘child’.

Betterfly probably sees his butterflies as little children, carrying the light of hope on their wings to those who are deserving of the burden of power for the greater good.

Théo Barbot becomes….

Monumenteur!

(A combination of monument and conservateur aka preservationist)

Remember, in this Universe, Paris is “The City of Progress”.

And Progress does NOT involve wasting money to maintain antiquated buildings and monuments from a bygone era.

Such prime real estate would be better used for useful things; factories, banks, shopping malls, corporate buildings, apartment buildings, etc.

But that doesn’t mean one can just go about demolishing historic architecture after selling to the highest bidder. (Not unless you want a riot). No, no, there must be compromise!

Nothing lasts forever, everything must go when it’s time has come; this is nature’s law.

Economics and finances must support modern infrastructure to maintain the progress of society, not dwell in the past.

As such, there are no groups that specialize in preserving and maintaining historical buildings and monuments. Old things are left as is until they have worn out their usefulness. Without specialized upkeep as well as preventative measures, these structures naturally decay and fall apart over time. Once a building/monument has reached a point where it is considered structurally unsound (it could fall down and crush someone) it is then legally condemned for demolition, afterwards the location will be put up for sale and something new will be built in it’s place.

This means that in the last few decades, many of the beautiful architecture that Paris is famous for has been lost, but there are still some left.

For an artist, like Theo, it is painful to simply watch as these gorgeous pieces of history decompose to rubble in indifference. He dreams of a beautiful Paris that celebrates it’s rich culture and shares it’s history for many generations to come!

But what can he, a teenager, do? No one will invest money to preserve buildings past their prime. Everyone wants something new and more industrial. They are looking towards the future while turning their backs on the past.

If only he had the ability to maintain these monuments himself! Then more people could appreciate the beauty of historic architecture and perhaps the aesthetic of a better restored monument would be pleasing enough to convince others that some history is worth preserving!

Hesperia/Betterfly agrees.

Many of the monuments in Paris were created pre-WW1, with thoughts like hope, love, dreamers, and the enduring spirit in mind. These are not just great works of art- they are symbols of man’s determination to make the world a better place!

As Monumenteur, Theo becomes a 7 foot tall living bronze statue dressed in French Revolution attire. Equipped with all his sculpting tools and possessing superhuman strength, dexterity, and stamina, Monumenteur is able bound across the rooftops of Paris at night to visit each Historic building/monument, and work his artistry to repair damage and carefully restore architecture, like magic.

Suddenly, monuments that were literally 24 hours away from being declared “condemned” look brand new??? People are talking! Opinions are divided; obviously the older generations who were born pre- WW2 feel nostalgic, and of course other generations can appreciate NOT living in a city interspersed with decaying ruins… but the biggest concern is, of course, “That better not be MY tax-money they are spending on this little art project!” Appreciating art is one thing, but paying out the nose to appreciate it is another!

Let’s face it, the Arc de Triomphe is lovely, but it ain’t putting dinner on the table, now is it? (Just like in America, the Grand Canyon is a tourist attraction that generates some money for the state of Arizona, but there are many more things that could be done with that land that would be bigger bread winners if people didn’t care about history or preserving nature.)

There is also the question of “How?” Surely such a big renovation project would make a lot of noise, and take a substantial amount of time… how could such a big undertaking go unnoticed?

The Supreme does NOT like it when people notice things.

The rich don’t like it when their plans for new construction are delayed indefinitely.

Shadybug and Claw Noir take it upon themselves to go on a little moonlight stroll to catch Monumenteur in the act.

Since this “hero” is big, muscled, and made of metal, it is a perfect chance for them to REALLY let loose and vent out some stress.

They are BRUTAL.

Having superpowers is literally the only thing that kept Theo alive.

Not once did Shadybug or Claw Noir stop to consider “hey, this is an actual person we are dealing with.” They only cared about beating the snot out of him, trying to taunt the Butterfly man out of hiding by threatening to destroy the kamikotized object and turning Monumenteur into scrap metal in the process.

The fight also leads to some visible damage to the buildings/monuments that Monumenteur has been painstakingly working to restore.

Gabriel is not some coward who would let two gang up against one while he sits on the sidelines, and of course comes to Monumenteur’s rescue just as his object is discovered and he is rendered helpless to a swift pummeling before being tossed off the side of the Palais Garnier.

They narrowly manage to escape.

Theo is badly hurt, broken bones, hematomas, a concussion, and the damage to his hands ensures he will never sculpt again.

Gabriel’s guilt is immense and he is stuck with a deep wave of self-loathing; How DARE he put a CHILD in such danger?! It is un-acceptable! This young boy has been robbed of his future for the sake of a battle, the stakes of which, he can not truly fathom.

This can not, WILL NOT happen again!

Wars should be handled by adults, and children should be allowed to cherish their innocence!

From then on, Betterfly vows to never burden powers to a minor again (unless it’s something like, a little kid is trapped in a burning building and giving them 5 minutes of super-powers is the only thing that will get them out alive because Fire Suppressors will not make it in time).

Later on, Alya will have to metaphorically move mountains to convince Betterfly to take her on as an ally and entrust her with powers to help him fight for the greater good. (Much like how in S3, “Feast”, Master Fu was convinced it was better to take back the cat and ladybug miraculous, rather than risk Marinette and Adrien falling victim to the Sentimonster. His fear of being the cause for their destruction as well prevented him from giving them a chance to prove they could overcome anything).

As for Theo, being crippled makes it impossible to have so many part-time jobs, but Gabriel plans to do right by that boy and offers him a part-time job as a gopher-assistant at the Gabriel brand. (It’s mostly just busy-work, but it has the name ‘Gabriel’ attached to it so it carries a small weight of respect that will look great on Theo’s resume. One day, after years of recovery and physical therapy, Theo will obviously want to pursue something more concrete, and this experience will be a rather cushy stepping stone on his career path.)

Theo has no clue as to why THE Gabriel Agreste would offer him, a kid who hasn’t even enrolled in University yet, a job… All Mr. Agreste said was something about recognizing hidden potential when Theo entered his Derby Hat contest.

As for the property damage; No, Shadybug did not cast her miraculous “cure”. This was strategic.

The damage is VERY noticeable, but in a way that please The Supreme.

Soon the news are talking about how all the previous restoration was nothing more than a publicity stunt by radical youths, and the so called “repairs” were nothing more than cheap, hastily thrown together facades…. A cosmetic bandaid that was all flair but no substance, thus explaining how it was done so quickly and why it fell apart just as fast.

There is even speculation that it was a financial ploy; a delay tactic to halt the sale of the land the condemned buildings are on by rival companies who weren’t pleased knowing they would be outbid.

The public soon grows bored and the secret of magic is preserved yet again.

However, this fight causes the dark, painful black veins to spread to Marinette’s hands, and as a result, she starts wearing fishnet gloves. (They are more practical weather wise and less suspicious than full gloves, and the lace makes the veins blend in seamlessly.)

Adrien has been getting by with make-up and a “Don’t touch me” attitude, that makes sense for a surly teen but breaks his father’s heart.

PART 2

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astarionslittlejuicebox · 6 months

Text

The Promise of Eternity (Part 4)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: The reader helped Astarion ascend and became his spawn. After saving the world from the Elder brain and it’s destruction, the reader and Astarion set out to take on the world together. While he promised to never forget the gifts the reader has given him, Astarion has seemed to have changed his attitude towards the reader in the last century…. After someone breaks one of Astarion’s rules, how will this affect the reader’s fate?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: potential for minor spoilers, suggestive themes, language, mentions of death, mentions of blood, abusive relationship, mention of slavery

Word Count: 1151

Imagine Series

Side Notes:

This imagine series takes place 200 years after the events of Baldur’s Gate 3. Everything you read in here is a story from my mind outside of the original BG3 character Astarion.

In this imagine series, Astarion is a bit more unemotionally unavailable, and this series will follow the decisions and consequences of that change. This is not canonically accepted and it is just an idea I’ve had in my head! (I do believe Astarion might truly care for the reader after Ascension, but that is open to individual interpretation.)

In this series, TAV is mildly based on my first character I played in BG3; she is a drow and I will make references to her in her background and knowledge as well. I do apologize that it is not 100% your own imagine, but the name for TAV is up to you as well as anything else that I can think of leaving to you, the reader, to decide.

I appreciate everyone who reads the imagines and this series, and I hope you enjoy the story!

TAV POV

Sitting alone in my bedchambers, I opened the plain book with the midnight blue cover and the words on the first page read Inception of Yesterday in fancy font. Underneath it was a small inscription that read: “Time flies over us, but leaves a shadow behind.” As I read the next few pages, I found that the concept of time within the Weave itself could leave impressions or shadows upon the strands of magic themselves. As I continued to read the words on the pages within the book, I learned of stories told by Eliminster about lessons he learned from Mystra regarding the shadows of time in the Weave.

A knock on my door startled me out of my delve into the shadows of time in the Weave. I closed the book before I stood up. As I did so, I noticed the sun beginning to take its rest back under the horizon. Several hours had passed since I returned home and began pouring over the information in the book. I closed it and a knock sounded at the door again, this time louder.

“Coming.” I said as I stood up and walked towards the dark wooden door. Upon opening, an unfamiliar sight greeted my eyes. A high elf with snow white hair and crimson eyes bore an expression of irritation as his gaze met mine. “Forgive me for keeping you waiting, my Lord, I was doing research on the task you gave me.” A perfectly kept eyebrow raised in response to my statement. I stepped aside to allow him in, and he took a quick glance in the hallway before stepping inside my bedchambers.

Astarion POV

(TAV’s name) shut the door quietly behind me as I took a moment to look around the room. (TAV)’s plain queen-sized bed held its usual forest green comforter and pillows to match, and the walls were painted a shade of green to match the comforter. The dark wooden furniture gave the room a somber feeling, which was alleviated by the bright orange and yellows of the fall decorations around the room. Autumn yellow leaf garlands hung from the bed posts and along the windowsills in the room. A burnt orange runner laid lazily across the desk in the far corner of the room, and was housing the books she had, more than likely, gotten from the library earlier in the day. Silver accents brought a bit of lightness to the room in contrast to the dark greens and blacks that dominated the room. Wreaths and pumpkins were the only other decorations in the room to give a sense of the change of season.

I could feel her eyes on me as I studied the room, and I felt a familiar emotion take hold of me for the second time that day: guilt. I could feel the creases in my forehead as I looked over the room. Her room felt so…sad. I felt as though he hadn’t seen her or her room in over a century, and I felt terrible for it. My lips curved slightly downward in a frown as I walked over to the table where she had been sitting before I had knocked on the door. I traced the edge of the simple desk as my eyes slowly trailed to look at the drow standing off to the side. She was studying me as I had been studying the room.

“I believe there is a way that I can see who took from you that night, but I need to read more of the book in order to know how. The librarian also gave me books to help me potentially locate your vial of blood, but I need to start reading that as well. Hopefully by tomorrow morning I will have at least some way to get some answers for you.” I felt my pale lips twitch slightly upwards as I studied my drow companion’s figure. Her (TAV’s hair color) hair had fallen slightly out of its bun, and there were Persian blue bags under her once-sparkling ruby eyes. As I took a moment to study her eyes further, I could see that they had filled greatly since the last time I had looked at them.

When was the last time I had really taken the time to look at her? I had thought to myself as an unfamiliar emotion passed through the drow’s eyes as she looked at me. How long had it been since it was just her and I like this?

When I had called her into my chambers this morning, I had been so livid at the thought she might have been the one to take from me that I hadn’t taken the time to study her appearance. I had been so busy with my newest pet, Zeyis, that I hadn’t taken the time to notice or tend to my most beloved spawn.

“I shall seek you in the morning then, my Lord, when I have more answers for you.” (TAV’s name) broke eye contact with me as she shuffled nervously on her feet, and I felt disappointment course through my undead veins. I gave her a short nod and took my leave. As I walked down the hall, I couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt for having left her alone for who knows how long; however, the tiefling with blonde hair came bounding around the corner, and all of my previous thoughts disappeared as I made eye contact with those golden eyes.

“There you are.” Zeyis spoke in a heavenly voice. “I was afraid you had started to wander off. Where have you been?” I felt my head shake upon its own accord and the words left my mouth on their own.

“Doesn’t matter. I am with you now.” Zeyis smiled at my words.

“And you’ll never need anyone but me.” I felt myself smile at her words, but something tugged in the back of my mind.

What was I thinking about before Zeyis arrived?

TAV POV

I tried my best that night to focus on reading Inception of Yesterday, but something about my interaction with Astarion weighed heavily on my mind. I could have sworn that Astarion had taken a good look at me for the first time in a century, and he looked sad when he had left. Nowadays I hardly had any time alone with Astarion, and that was something that started when the tiefling spontaneously showed up on our doorstep a hundred years ago. As a matter of fact, so many things about their lives had changed the moment she arrived. Something about her seemed to have the vampire wrapped around her clawed finger, but I couldn’t quite place what it was about her that drew him in.

I shook my head and dispersed the distracting thoughts from my mind, and poured myself into the book in front of me until the early hours of the morning.

#astarion imagine #astarion x reader #baldursgate3 #baldursgate3imagine #ascended astarion #the promise of eternity

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everlastingdreams · 6 months

Text

The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In the Dawn Chapter 5

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Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: The Danger That Lurks

Notes: Still proofreading a bunch of later chapters, some are twice the size of these early ones so pfew. The exhaustion I suffer from does make it a lot harder, but I'm getting there.

Warnings: Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +190K

Chapter: 5/ It’s a secret.

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That night, your eyes opened, you had believed they would never do so again.

You were shaking in a sweat and very short of breath. It took you quite long to notice the shadow figure standing near the wall and it nearly caused you to scream.

“You missed the whole day.”

By the sound of his voice, you knew who it was.

“Did paladins die? I hope so.” Your bitterness was stronger than your voice.

The Monk came closer, hands behind his back, witnessing how fragile all the healing had made you.

He had brought a Fey and cursed them to the same fate.

Able to heal anyone but themselves.

A curse or a blessing?

The lasting silence from him felt odd.

“What?” You snapped.

He moved his hands from behind his back and dangled a fresh looking pastry in front of your nose.

Your eyes locked on it immediately, were you delirious?

Your eyes slid to his face, to prideful to ask out loud if you could have it.

He gave a shallow nod and let you take the pastry from his hand.

It tasted so good it nearly brought out tears.

As you ate, he walked around the room.

Crumbs landed everywhere with your hands shaking so much, you did not let them go to waste either and put every single one of them in your mouth as well. “Why did you refuse to let me heal you the first time?”

He hid the compassion he had felt behind the excuse, “It would be a waste to risk your death for a wound that would heal by itself in time. You are too valuable.”

Your eyes narrowed at him at that.

Until he corrected his wording. “Your healing ability is too valuable.”

Again you were diminished to nothing more than the magic you were born with.

“Wow. Thanks.” The sarcasm dripped from you.

For a blink, he looked aware of his poor communication skills.

The shaking was slowly getting better. “That village where you found me, did you find other Fey?”

It drew his eyes to your face, a look of interest in them.

The worry for Squirrel’s safety had kept you up many a night. “You said you do not harm children. There was a boy.”

The paladins had told him of it, and he had told them not to bother catching the child.

“There was only you.” He said.

You laid down on your side, feeling how the exhaustion increased just by eating.

He tilted his head. “Have others of your clan died because of their power.”

“Many.” It was the honest truth. “The pain, we can feel it too when we use it too much.”

The Monk stepped closer and you hated how weak you felt and how healthy he looked now.

There was no fight in you left, not physically.

You forced your eyes shut, feeling the air barely able to fill your lungs who craved it so much because it hurt. “Do not think that giving me something to eat will make me forgive you for this. I will never forgive you, Monk.”

He expected as such. “I do not need your forgiveness.”

“Only your god’s?” You guessed.

By the looks of it, you had guessed correctly.

You fired it at him, “How do you think you can receive the forgiveness of a god, if you can’t even get it from a Fey?”

Even now, you did not fear speaking like this to him…

He was not amused by it. “I do not seek the forgiveness of evil.”

You mumbled between your teeth, “Not evil enough to stop paladins from using me.”

It was a fair retort.

The remainder of small glass shards cracked beneath his boot and he brushed them under the bed with it.

“Why are you still here?” It was keeping you from sleep.

“I am ordered to make certain you survive.” He admitted.

Ugh. They were keeping you alive to torment you further. “So I can serve my purpose?”

It sounded like he had sighed quietly.

The Monk knelt down next to the bed, it had your attention and glare right away. “The more you cooperate, the better your life will become among us.”

It was exhausting. “Obey or suffer. That is what you are offering, do you even realize this? Is that how they twisted your mind?”

He looked off to the side, trying to remain indifferent to what you said.

“Tell me what kind of Fey you are, and I will answer a question you may have.” He used the same tactic you had used on him.

Your answer was as indifferent as he acted, “I am not interested in learning about you.”

The change in his expression was gone not a second later.

But you had seen it nonetheless and wondered what had gone through his head right there and then.

There was one thing you were prepared to trade for, “If you bring me another one of those pastries, I will tell you what I am.”

He had not expected for you to propose a deal. “Agreed.”

“Now.” You added.

His enthusiasm was gone by the time he stood again. “Now?”

It was the middle of the night.

There was no swaying you. “Now.”

The Monk swallowed the protest now that he was so close to getting the information he wanted.

Still, it was obvious by the way he left the room that he wasn’t happy with being rushed.

Good. You weren’t happy either.

As you waited, you played the dangerous game of closing your eyes for ‘just a second’ and lost.

That second lasted until morning, and when you did open them you found the pastry right in front of your nose on the bed.

The Monk had not woken you for his end of the bargain. Odd.

Was it sympathy or pity? And why not exploit it for your benefit?

~~~♡~~~♡~~~◇~~~♡~~~♡~~~

When he came to fetch you in the morning, you were sitting up on the edge of the bed, talking some courage into yourself.

Of course you had eaten that pastry, or risked it being taken from you.

The Monk entered the room, tankard of water in hand, scanning you up and down to get an idea on your health status.

After he gave you the water to drink, he went to stand near the wall, his hands folded behind his back. “There are not many wounded today. I believe a repeat of yesterday will not occur.”

You drank the water, feeling how your body responded in gratitude.

Quietly you began, “Thank you for the water-..” He instantly locked eyes on you, “-and for the pastries.”

It had had an effect on him. “Uphold your end of the bargain.”

You did so without defiance. “I am Dawn Folk.”

The quick answer was unexpected, he had expected more wit or defiance.

“Dawn Folk…” He was pensive.

It did not make him recall anything.

You stood up from the bed, putting down the tankard, and slowly got closer to him. “I know you have been kind to me and I have not been behaving very grateful.”

Those weeping eyes were sharp as a hawk’s.

You stopped a little to his side. “But, I am.”

With the speed of a snail, you reached out and touched his arm.

A frown creased his forehead, eyes dropping to see your hand curl around his arm.

This man behaved as if no one had ever done such a thing to him before. Good, that confusion and uncertainty worked in your favor.

“You could treat me much worse.” Your other hand hovered not an inch above his chest and slowly moved down to his waist, where the daggers were on the belt.

Suddenly he grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“I could.” He warned you what the result would be if you tried to take one of his daggers.

Dammit.

Angered by your failure, you tried to step away.

He didn’t allow it to happen. “Consider yourself fortunate that I am not as bitter as you are.”

That earned him a firm push from you and it had you break free. “Bitter?! You are keeping me here like an animal, you arrogant bastard!”

Ah, there was that fire in you again.

The Monk dared to fuel it, “You are acting as one.”

Out of sheer frustration, you picked up the tankard and tossed it at his head.

He gracefully avoided it by leaning to the side, arching a brow as if it proved his point.

Not a minute ago, you were trying to seduce him, and now this.

When he actually seemed amused by it, it baffled you.

The Monk offered a choice, “Either you walk with me willingly, or I bind your hands and take you to the infirmary. Choose wisely.”

You spat at the ground in front of his feet.

Minutes later, with your hands bound in front of you, he had dragged you through the halls towards the infirmary.

He was there to make sure his red brothers did not report missing weapons later.

You felt his eyes on your back constantly and often glared at him over your shoulder.

A paladin came to speak to him for a moment.

The only time you did not watch your back was the moment a hand hit your rear, hard enough for the sound to echo in the infirmary.

It hurt.

The paladin responsible for it was sitting on a cot and received your fist to his nose.

The next few seconds were chaotic.

There was a lot of shouting and threats thrown your way, some had drawn their weapons and were ready to enact vengeance for their red brother.

“Quiet!” The Monk’s voice thundered over them all.

Blood seeped from the paladin’s nose.

You were in a corner, trying to stay out off their reach.

The Monk pushed past them, took your arm and steered you to the door.

The wounded paladin spoke up, “She broke my nose, Brother!”

“Consider it your punishment for breaking the vow!” The Monk barked, shutting the paladin down.

You were out of that room faster than one would think possible.

By the looks of it, he was steering you towards the room again.

And he wasn’t being very alert, probably too distracted by the fact that he would have to explain this to the priest.

He was there in the room and still this had happened. Father would not be pleased in the slightest. Would he think him incapable of keeping one Fey woman in control?

You bumped into his side on purpose and got close enough to steal the short sword from his side.

With the level of skill you had with the sword, you were fast enough to lash out with it at him.

He blocked the sword from getting near his face and the steel cut through his sleeve and skin.

You ran before he could call out for the others, and never heard him do so.

It was a blessing that the ruckus in the infirmary had drawn most of the paladins there.

You heard a group running in your direction, opened the first door you saw and got inside. A set of wooden stairs lead down into the cellar.

Barrels of wine decorated the place and you wished you had a hammer to drown this place in it.

Hurriedly, you cut the ropes from your wrist loose completely with the sword.

Whilst searching for an exit or trapdoor, you heard the stairs creak and hid behind one of the barrels.

The racing of your heart had your blood pumping through your veins.

By the quiet way of walking, you knew it was the Monk who was down there with you.

To your dismay, he seemed to be walking right to the spot you were hiding behind.

With his longsword, he tapped against the barrel you hid behind.

You shot out from behind it and lunged at him with the sword immediately.

He created a distance between you when it was clear you had chosen to fight.

His skill outmatched yours, but that did not mean that you wouldn’t give it your all in a fight.

He was so damn fast and you ruthlessly kept trying to strike at him.

All that build up anger found it’s outlet, the sound of steel clashing with his was deafening

Those at home would be proud of you for standing your ground.

You nicked him on his other arm.

It made him reconsider on holding back, you appeared quite capable with the sword.

One of your favorite moves was to spin and strike, and as you began your spin it was the Hidden that struck.

The pain they brought down on you was debilitating. It felt as if they were crushing your skull from the inside.

They still disagreed with you when it came to the Monk and you felt betrayed by it.

He saw you sink to your knees while your grasped at your head in agony.

You cried out and pleaded for them to stop this, “No! Please! I beg you, stop!”

How could hear the whispers of evil now, while they tore into the one who they had forced to heal him.

The pleas were ignored and their punishment continued without mercy.

It hurt so much that you felt yourself getting closer to fainting with each passing second.

The Monk was saying something but you could not hear him past the overwhelmingly loud voices.

You felt something around your waist, and then you were pulled into him.

He was there, kneeling on the floor and holding you to try and help. “They cannot harm you if you shut them out.”

He spoke from experience. Years and years of it.

Your vision was beginning to darken. How could you shut out something so powerful?

“Help…-” The idea of never regaining consciousness again terrified you.

He readjusted his position, an arm around to support your head, hand on your neck. “Breath.”

The relief began at your neck, as if they only yielded because he wanted them to.

It spread in your body until all that was left was complete and utter exhaustion.

The short sword you had dropped had been kicked to the other end of the room and you were left unarmed in the hands of the Monk.

As if he sensed a line being crossed, he lifted his hand so it no longer touched your neck.

At this point you did not care if the enemy was holding you up in a seated position, it was that or hitting the floor.

Was this what had happened in the forest that forced you to heal him?

Once you felt a bit better, you scrambled out of his hold.

“You hear them…” You breathed out, sitting on the floor, shocked that they would let themselves be heard by someone like him.

He hated that he could hear them try to influence him all the time. “The suffering they inflict on you will lessen in time, if you reject their influence.”

You refused to be turned to the Church like he was. “If they are doing this to me, there is a damn good reason for it.”

He hit the nail on the head, “They are tormenting you to protect me.”

It was unfair. “Why are they protecting a traitor?”

Because of what he was…

It dawned on you that you did not know what sort of Fey he actually was, and the answer to your question could be the same “What…kind of Fey are you?”

From his expression, you deduced he would not answer the question.

Your eyes drifted to the sword at the other end of the cellar.

He did not have to look to see where your attention had went. “Who taught you how to wield a sword?”

Now it was you who refused to answer.

The Monk stood up and offered a hand, blood stained his sleeves from where you had managed to cut him. “I am taking you back to your room.”

You smacked the hand away.

He sighed deeply, and under the sound of your protests he grabbed your arm and brought you up from the floor again.

The weakness of your legs caused you to stumble and land into his side.

A couple of curses flew out, and you almost considered just falling over being anywhere near him.

“Weren’t there more wounded?” You remembered there were tree.

“It can wait.” He brushed the question away. “Now, will you be calm and walk along, or will you continue to fight me?”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “It can wait.”

Slowly his eyes drifted to your face, doubting it was sarcasm.

You would feel more up to fighting after some rest.

On the walk back to the room, you remembered how back in the dungeon you had sensed his presence. All alone in the dark, it was far more simple to focus on the signals nature granted to you.

This man was odd, you wished it was simple and that he was just pure evil, but it was more complicated than that.

He was Fey. He was serving the enemy and you had no idea why he had chosen to do so, it made no sense. What Fey kind was he even? Why did the Hidden insist on protecting him even if it meant hurting you?

There was more than what meets the eye and you wanted to get to the bottom of it.

He caught you staring and send you a look that translated to ‘what?’

You questioned it out loud, “Why did you run to their side?”

The Monk refused to answer and locked you back in that room.

Even though you hated being trapped, you were glad that you could rest now and that there were no paladins around to hit your rear again.

If only the wind did not blow cold air into the room through that window you had broken.

You grabbed your former shirt and trousers off the floor and tried to stuff them in the window.

By being weakened, thanks to the Hidden, you couldn’t manage it.

The idea to drag the bed under the window came fast, and you stepped on it to gain some more advantage. It went easier and you did not have to strain so much.

The door flew open as you were still shoving the fabrics in there.

Quickly you looked over your shoulder to see the Monk looking rather confused.

“I’m guessing you’re not gonna help with this.” You stated.

He approached and stopped at the bed, “What are you doing?”

Wasn’t it obvious? “Shoving my clothes in the window.”

This time he did keep his hand on the pommel of his sword, not taking any risks. “What happened in the infirmary, has that happened here before?”

You faced the window and continued the task. “They’ve tried. Why? Do you believe them to be saints?”

“None of us are.” He had tilted his head down.

Once the wind was blocked from entering, you hopped down from the bed and ignored him to push the bed back where it came from.

He took hold of your elbow. “Come with me.”

“Why?” You quickly asked.

The question went ignored and he proceeded to bind your hands together again, this time behind your back and he kept a hand on the rope while walking you through the hallways.

With his fingers hooked on the rope, he stopped and kept you beside him.

Many paladins were walking in the larger hall and you gravely disliked seeing so much red.

His eyes stayed on the crowded place, “Which ones tried to break their vow?”

It was met with great reluctance, you did not want to answer it at all. “I don’t remember.”

The Monk did not even look at you when saying, “In exchange I will offer a meal.”

Your empty stomach was making your memory return, still…

Why did he want to know? Was this a test?

The doubt must have been visible to him.

He was waiting for your cooperation. “There is no place for sin here. Describe them to me.”

“No.” You weren’t trusting those bastards to not retaliate against you.

A silence fell between you and you could sense he was trying to think of a way to convince you otherwise.

“They are not to touch a woman. Not like this.” He thought it needed explaining.

You deadpanned, “Tell that to my rear.”

Father Carden walked in your direction.

The Monk called out to two paladins before handing you over to them, then he went to speak to the priest.

You could only hear Carden ask why ‘the Fey girl’ was here now. Did the Monk not ask for permission before doing things like this?

From the looks of it, the priest was quite dismissive to what the Monk was telling him.

Father Carden walked away and the Monk was left looking disappointed.

It took a few seconds for him to snap out of it and march to where you were.

“Hand her back.” He was anything but courteous about it.

The paladins released you fast and stepped back at the sight of his anger slipping from under the stoic mask.

You were whisked away by him instantly, he walked fast, very fast.

His angry strut lasted for three hallways, then simmered down.

Something inside told you to be silent and let him come to his senses first.

You were back in the room within minutes, were he took the ropes off from your wrists.

It did not pass you by how bothered he appeared by what had been said to him.

“What? Did the priest scold you or something?” You hoped not to sound too interested.

Father’s reply had come as a shock to him.

~“She is but a Fey.”~

You were there to heal them, not as… entertainment.

That bastard proceeded to push you to sit down on the bed.

Of course you went to stand again but he just repeated the action.

“Sit down and listen.” He was at the end of his patience.

“I’m not one of your paladin dogs that you can order around!” You seethed.

How could he begin to explain the threat you faced?

Only when you saw him visibly struggle to say a word, did it silence you. This wasn’t the sort of person to appear struggling before an enemy.

“What is it?” This time you asked calmer but still annoyed.

The Monk cast his eyes to the broken window. “Avoid being alone with my red brothers.”

That was not your decision to make in this situation. “Are you serious? I am a prisoner here! Why-…”

The reality dawned on you just when you were about to ask.

He looked at your face briefly, then at the floor.

The anger dripped from you. “Does a Fey woman not count as a woman? Are we excluded from the vow?”

He could not even say it out loud that his red brothers would not be punished for taking advantage of a Fey woman.

Here he was, warning you while standing aside, it was infuriating to say the least.

You were on your feet not a second later. “Did you tell me this just to frighten me? Is that why?!?”

To him, it was insulting. “I told you this to warn you!”

To warn you against something you could barely do a thing against because they tied you up all the time?!?

“Leave me alone. You’re just as bad as the rest of them!” It was a sneer.

The door was slammed shut by him as he left.

Why would the Weeping Monk try to help a Fey? This had to be a mind game of his to keep you under control.

You sat down on the bed, still feeling the result of the Hidden’s scorn.

It was hard not to feel abandoned by them, when they preferred someone like the Monk over you.

Why else would they stop you from fighting him and leaving him to die?

Escaping this place proved difficult, but they would not remain here forever. When they traveled again, they would need you. It would be much easier to escape on a wagon.

For now, you would do what you needed to survive.

Taglist:

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#weeping monk #cursed netflix #cursed #weeping monk x reader #lancelot x reader #the weeping monk #weeping monk x you #cursed lancelot #lancelot #the weeping monk x reader #daniel sharman character #daniel sharman #weeping monk fic

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