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#holding an arcane magic ball... as you do
thedorfmirrin · 14 days
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Last week I made a physical painting for my moms bday - its of my Aether dragon from FR: Ropa 💙🌌✨🌌💙
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xeno828 · 11 months
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Trollhunters Ending FIXED!!!
So....I've recently binged this entire series, fell in love with it and promptly gotten heartbroken at the shitty ending the movie gave us. SO!!!! I have seen many people hating on the ending and pretending it and the movie didn't exist. I came up with an idea that I am permanently using as a replacement for the ending that I'm pretty happy with. I can't write dramatically for shit BUT I can scribble ideas! If anyone wants to flesh this out into a one shot fic PLZ TAG ME JUST SO I CAN READ IT!!!!!
(also this is gonna read more like a screen play for a movie cus I'm a vid editor and that's how I picture stuff, doesn't always translate well into a written story! 😅)
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- So everything stays the same up until Jim uses the kronosphere to go back in time
- Instead of going back to the beginning and changing everything, he travels back to when the Arcane order had finally gotten a hold of the real Nari
- Everything is still happening around him but is dead silent as if he were deaf and in slight slo mo as he gets his bearings (not actually deaf, just that kinda cinematic idea for drama!!)
- Looks around and sees everyone alive gathered around (maybe some sappy or quiet music plays on top of him seeing everyone alive, I dunno!!!)
- As this is the past they don't know Jim just came from the future and are instead focused on glaring at something
- IRL sound hits back in like a huge thud, LOUD AF!!!!
- Jarring Jim to turn around and see the Arcane order hovering in that same ball of magic that surrounded them the first time (that's what everyone is glaring at btw!)
- This is when realization for Jim sets in and he knows this is his second chance
- The music from the credits in the original film (or something like that) starts to build up (in my head it's like him and the music are going "not this fucking time!")
- He transforms into his new armour (either cus it came back in time with him or cus now he knows about the 9th configuration, your choice!)
- Camera and everything is focused on the transformation as the music is building but you can see everyone in the background looking either shocked or like "HELL YEAH!!" when they see Jim finally transforming again
- Quick dramatic shot focusing on the Arcane order still performing their spell, t
- Some sort of cheesy/bad ass hero shot showing off everyone gathered together as the "9th configuration" and ready to kick ass
- Close up on Belroc looking pissed as they realize Jim has transformed and everyone is gathered to fight
- Equally cheesy close up on Jim quietly but determinedly saying something like "not this time" or "my turn" (I can't do dialogue I'm sorry!!!;)
- Jim jumps into fight with everyone following behind
- Final shot of everyone running toward the camera (Arcane order) and cuts to black with Jim swinging Excalibur at the camera.
- As it cuts to black the outro music (roughly 20 secs into it) hits the beat drop at the same time as the credits start!
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Cliffhanger-ish ending, doesn't get rid of the whole story, leaves it up to imagination on who still lives and dies, doesn't undo character development, has more of a feel good "HELL YEAH!!" ending to it (at least for me!) Doesn't feel like a definite ending but has enough to still feel like Trollhunters isn't just over and wrapped up nice and nearly with a pretty bow! For me this works and I'm happy to pretend this is canon. Tbh 90% sure this looks cooler in my head than how it's written down, I might get round to making a vid edit for it on YouTube (cus that's my specialty) but dunno if anyone actually wants to see that!
As I said I'm not a writer so apologies for this chaos!! I don't usually post these things that I think about (cus I've also imaged a better ending for game of thrones!) But I just really wanted to share this in case someone else also enjoyed the concept or in case anyone wants to translate this mess into something coherent!
Anyway, rant done and idea written out, go have fun with it you want, just plz tag cuz I wanna read if you! 😭🙏
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tmntxthings · 1 year
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Σ一The Villainess, AKA: Cherrypie ‘A Cute-Meet’。・゜・
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summary: way before the night of the ball, Y/n and Raph met under pretty average circumstances, if average includes testing out a prototype for a cloaking brooch & a certain special ring getting stolen
author’s note: this is first prequel to the ongoing collab with <3 @marwhoa <3 we have been contemplating more prequels to continue adding depth to the story and ofc the almighty ‘part two’
warnings: rise!raph x villain!reader, cloaking brooch au, secret identities, cute meet, fluff
〔you’re here〕 → next
—————————————————————————
Through one of the very few quiet streets of the city, a hand emerges from the wall. Around it glitters magenta sparks, twinkling as an entire body follows through it. As dazzling an entrance as that was, this particular stranger happened to be dressed simply. A plain, ruffled, scarlet dress with a billowing skirt, accented by the pair of matching sandals wrapping up her calves, and tied together by a red clutch-purse as its accentuating piece. ‘Plain-Jane’ blinked away a crackle of red magic that was quite literally drawn into a ring upon her finger. Small bits of arcane energy surged in, bouncing erratically beneath the clear film protecting ruby crystals inside—all until the last twinkle blipped into the vacuum.
With a few calming rotations of the ring around her digit and a tucking of stray hairs behind her ear, the silent street was filled by soft tmps of the mysterious newcomer’s light footsteps. Perpendicular to the alley she has appeared through, a sneaky peek was given before she stepped out the next pin-drop quiet street with sidewalks that likely experienced so little foot traffic that they just might be clean enough to eat on.
Luckily, this lass wasn’t here to dine on the sidewalk picnic style—no, no, she was here for a special café that was quite literally the hidden gem beaten off the path. Had it not been for her frequenting, it likely wouldn’t be able to stay open. THAT is just how out of the way it was. Alright, that may have been blown out of proportion, but Y/n couldn’t care less as she and her temporarily-inflated self-importance pushed through the doors. Immediately she was woken up by the soothing hold of coffee grinds and baked goods. They cradled her, placing energizing kisses upon both cheeks.
A barista greeted the door’s chiming bell with a cheerful good morning and “Welcome to Sugar n’Spice!”
Any sleepiness brave enough to stay in your system from a bright and early rise wouldn’t stand a chance in this quaint, domestic place and its enlivening, ambrosial scents as you approached the counter. A glance was passed to the occupants of the room—a man who looked like he just got out of the gym, two sickly looking old ladies by the window, a lady bouncing a kid on her hip, and a man in a suit who’s foot tapped in a ‘watching the clock closely’ fashion.
Giving a curt “Excuse me,” as you navigated around the impatient man, you swallowed the bitterness upon your tongue for these humans who had the privilege to be here, topside, all day, any day. Hold back that discontent, for there is one important rule! A personally appointed exception, specially made for Sugar n’Spice: this place was divine enough to escape your witchy wrath. Show utmost respect by refraining from the usual ‘Hidden City Dweller seething at the humans.’ You could do that anywhere but here. This place was the holy land. The heavenly pinnacle of coffee—the SACRED LAN—
“Ma’am …?”
The barista tilted their head towards you playfully as that increasingly bizarre inner monologue settled abruptly. The distractions were waved off by a shaking of your noggin and an apologetic smile. “Sorry! Caught up with something—could I get the spiced Red Velvet latte? Please.”
Your lips shifted into a patient smile as the barista practically sighed in relief, hand on their chest as they muttered, “..much more normal than that last customer,” under their breath. You quirked an eyebrow at this but quickly rested your features. Humans complained too much for folks that—no! No, no, Y/n, quit it. The rule, remember the rule!
“Oh! Also, can I do the student discount? I’m an Eastlaird student.”
There was a missed opportunity as three of the occupants in the room perked up upon hearing that name; alas, your attention was instead fixated on your red clutch. Swiftly unlatching it and digging out two cards: one to show to the barista, your ID, and the second, your debit card. The animated worker leaned in, nodded at the little plastic, and took off some of the charge via the ‘Sugar n’Spice’s Nice Discount.’ With just one swipe of a debit card and a little wave after the machine’s little ‘doot!’ , you were all ready to go and await your beloved order. Your seeking eyes gazed all around the room in search of a table to claim until landing fondly upon a small two-seater. There, in the corner opposite of the old ladies and other waiting humans, was a perfectly empty space. Morning sun rays seemed to illuminate a chair for you to sit in, whispering a ‘come here to enjoy the one thing humans were able to do right, dear!’
After a moment to place your things upon the uninhabited table, you then went over and leaned against the counter near where orders came out and scrolled nonchalantly through your cellular. A scoff or two may have escaped at whatever human news headlines caught your eyes, at least up until your expression glimmered with a split-second of trepidation as an instinctual swipe did away with an unwanted notification.
NOTIFICATION
You have one new message.
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➤ MOTHER sent now
Where are you?
Not here, please, agonized the disguised witch silently. This was your one true escape—the one and only getaway from home that you had. Away from the mystic training, away from her, and into a place where you could be a normal... A normal what, human? Don’t even think about finishing that thought.
But, Sugar n’Spice cafe… this was one of the only human-made delights you had…
Surely that granted you one little ‘cross my heart’ secret kept, right?
Trapped in your chest was a deep sigh; you didn’t want to think about your mother. It felt like she had done nothing but push you to your limits as of lately. Constantly claiming that your magic “wasn’t performing at its peak.”, That you “should train more,” —no, even MORE than that, that you should only be training. The ever-lingering pressure to perform and perform well, lest you don’t come up to par with your mother’s expectations, it was starting to get ridiculous. “Seriously Y/n, are you even trying? If you don’t start taking training seriously—” You quickly shoved the memory away violently.
The little device was hastily shoved into your clutch, along with the unpleasant memory. Your eyes closed as the subconscious habit of twisting your ring came in full swing. You did it mostly when nervous, but every so often it would give off a calming effect—and per usual, it served to ground your racing heart in the here and now.
This place was your safe haven. You didn’t want to mar its charm by thinking of that hateful woman who did nothing but dampen your spirits. Just as you were opening your eyes after building up your resolve, one of the baristas called out, “Spiced Red Velvet latte!” Right on time, just the thing to completely nip these nerves in the bud as if clicking a ‘do not disturb for at least an hour’ switch.
You were so focused on your destination, hand reaching out for its prize. So focused in fact, your hand jolted and floated stiffly as your peripheral caught another hand closing in. Far closer than a stranger’s hand should be, and your eyes were blown wide, resting upon the intruder heading straight for the cup—your cup.
“Oh—”
Both of you stilled. You followed the hand up until you met the gaze of a culprit who dared to try and steal the drink you ordered every single visit! Just as quickly as you made eye contact with a pair of emerald eyes, the barista’s worried voice snagged your attention once more.
“—that’s right! Sorry, both of you ordered the spiced red velvet latte,” clarified the worker behind the counter, slowly, nervously, pulling their hand away from the fresh beverage. “The, uh, the next one will be out shortly!” They amended, turning back to concocting tasty drinks.
“Sorry! You can go ahead, I’m in no rush.”
Your gaze returned to those bright green irises. His voice was deep and soothing, offering a soft smile as he dipped his head towards your drink. Or rather, a drink whose fate laid in the hands of you both. A shared dilemma.
“Wait—wait what?”
Cue the double-take. From the drink, to those curious green eyes, right on back to the drink. Was this… Selflessness? Displayed by one who belonged to a selfish society? “You’re just letting me have it?”
Now, by no means would you ever forfeit something of yours to a human. Not even a drink mishap like this! But, what stopped you in your tracks was the lack of a rude ‘I’ll be taking this! You can wait for the next drink.’ from the stranger.
“Well, yeah, a’course. Raph prides ‘imself on bein’ respectful— ‘s good manners, too.” He was beaming with a proud grin, crossing his arms and standing with a stance that seemed all-too-heroic. The “amaze” factor of his pose was severely detracted by the gym clothes he wore. Basketball shorts and a tank top, sneakers—was this dude on a morning jog? Not the most heroic get-up.
“R.. Right..” Y/n’s eyes rested on the cup and its steam, lingering there for long enough that the drink’s twin had been completed and slid out on the counter, metaphorically framed by the worker chirping, “Another spiced red velvet latte, for here!”
The gears in your head were turning, still frozen by the smallest gesture, far too small for anyone else, but that meant so much more to you. This is a sign, echoed a thought. As he took his drink, you couldn’t have missed him doing a victorious fist to the air and muttering “You still got it, big guy! The precious drink has been secured.” The whimsical nature of the whole interaction had your hand moving before anything could be thought through enough, driven by a single fear. Pushing your hand, the fear begged you, as though letting this one leave here and now would become the biggest regret of your life.
“Wait,”
You nearly whispered the word, feeling an uncharacteristic thump in your chest as those same green hues turned and locked with your own shaky eyes.
“Someone who loves Sugar n’Spice’s spiced red velvet lattes as much as I do, th-that’s hard to find. ‘Cause, y’know what they say, it’s too much sugar and spice.”
“It’s too much sugar n’spice.”
Laughter brought the two together within seconds as the realization that they said the same thing at the same time set in. Y/n’s nerves dissolved—and to be frank, so did this particular stranger’s, not that you would know that.
A shaky invitation was proposed, asking him if he’d like to sit together and share company. With a toothy smile and a nod, the two sat at her claimed table, humming at the clinks the cups made when their bottoms met the polished redwood of the café tables. Just before either could start conversation, one of the old ladies across the room gasped dramatically loud. Y/n would have looked over, had it not been for the man in front of her quickly covering up the scene with a cough and interjection.
“So!”
His voice cracked, seeming to choke on a bit of unease as your eyes returned to him.
“Ya gotta be a regular, too, then?”
“Yes—what gave it away?”
Y/n inquired, taken aback by such a bizarre deduction. Seriously, what gave it away? She glanced at her drink, her seat, and then to the board. The evidence revealed itself before he continued.
“These drinks ‘ave long since been taken off the menu, but they still serve ‘em for the few regulars who knew about it.”
The happy trill he gave upon sipping the hot drink further lowered your guard as you leaned into your hand. The little voice in your head placed its imaginary hands on your shoulders, leaning into your ear with an ecstatic ‘maybe this one’s a good human? say, don’tcha think nice humans exist? there’s the owners of sugar n’spice, so can’t there be others !!?’
“Quite the observant eye you have, sirrrr… Raph” Dragging out the last word until the name came back to you, the same one he said earlier. You were banking on that having been a third-person-speaking moment as opposed to him giving the name of an absentee.
“Raph,” He nodded in confirmation, to which you dipped your head with him, copying his nod.
“And your name?”
“Oh, it’s Y/n.” Your voice spoke sheepishly, wondering why it had taken you so long to say so.
“Issa lovely name, and a pleasure to meet ‘cha!”His smile was so warm and comforting that you let go of the embarrassment swirling around your head, heating your cheeks. Play it off as being from your drink’s steam, that’ll work! Go on, a little ‘shoooo’ to the maroon-red liquid before taking the lightest sip. Ah, it’s still too hot.
“How long ‘ve you been a patron?”
The friendly human asked in order to continue the conversation. This had a tiny smile appearing on your face. You almost couldn’t remember the first time you stumbled into SnS. You blew out a winded raspberry.
“It’s been a good long while..” Pondering hums reverberated from within as your hands lifted the drink once more in a contemplative sip. This was your first year at Eastlaird, so that …plus a couple of years more, Ah!
“Around 3 or 4 years,”
The cup’s bottom tapped the tabletop with a light clink. Ever since you had found one of the more far-off gateways from the Hidden City to the topside, your nose had followed the sweet aroma of coffee. Now every time you snuck away from your mother, you made sure to squeeze a stop here into the schedule. Fortunately for you, sneaking away was one of your specialties, thus your regular status at said coffeehouse.
“Well Raphs been grabbin’ a drink here for 5 or so years!”
The huma— Raph, added after you finished. You wondered internally how miraculous it was that neither of you had run into each other before.
…….
Silence filled up the space around you both. Though the conversation had reached a momentary halt, Raph caught himself lingering on a potential topic. Should he bring up Eastlaird? It was an overheard tidbit from the exchange between you and the employee at the register. But, how could he phrase it without sounding like a bit of a creep for eavesdropping in the first place? He glanced up from his glass to find you staring out of the window. Head angled slightly upwards as though captivated by something, and so his own gaze curiously followed yours to the bright blue sky.
Nothing particularly interesting nor impressive stuck out to him. It was just an ordinary sky—not exactly a clear sky, an occasional cloud would make it’s gradual trek across the expanse—, but as his eyes came back to you, it seemed your eyes saw something else in the overhead canvas. A soft smile graced your lips as your eyes affectionately soaked up the view. Maybe it was the strokes of light morning pinks and golden yellows streaking across the canvas. Or it might have been the dashes of clouds, like stretched-out cotton clouds, pinned to the board for depth. Something about this thing that Raph had seen every day yet never truly seen, the twinkle in your eyes had him taking another look. The atmosphere between the two of you opened up to him as he began to realize the position he was in.
Here, at a table for two, with a lady as pretty as you. Deceiving you, disguised and still daring to watch fondly at this vulnerable smile you gave. You were the perfect picture of someone who saw a world he didn’t, and that very thing was leaving a sour pit in his chest. Raph immediately looked down at his drink, taking another swig, but this time the sweet drink left a bitter aftertaste. Everything he did sounded louder to his ears—picking the cup up, swallowing the latte, placing it back down. He was suddenly all too aware of every action he made. How couldn’t he be? Look at you, so well put-together and serene, and here he was making a blunder of the whole conversation. You went out of your way to invite him, and his thanks to that was uninteresting small-talk.
Raph suddenly felt…
Boring.
The gap in the conversation only seemed to widen as the two of you both scavenged for the next topic. It was an understatement to say it was humiliating to you—inviting a stranger, who was a human also, don’t forget that very important bit, and then proceeding to give them the driest conversation in existence?
You took the pause as a chance to take in your delightful beverage, and it seemed he had the same idea. As the rays of sunlight filtered in through the bay window beside your table, framed by decorative brown curtains made of the silkiest fabric and lined with gauzy trim, you both had your spirits raised as you bask in warmth and contentment brought at the sweet and refreshing sting of the beloved lattes. As true to their name, the delicate blend of sugar and spice displayed a masterful dance upon your tongue. It was just the kind of drink to set you at ease and clear your head entirely, so much so that you found yourself needing to place the glass down gently and excuse yourself to the bathroom.
A splash or two met your face, dragging you out of the vulnerable trance that the latte left you in.
Think about it, you are sharing a table with someone you hate. Well, not him personally, but his people! They treated your folks so poorly, shunning and belittling them. Don’t even think for a second that your community had forgotten the witch trials!
But, the little voice in your head interjected. This is someone showing us something different. Surely you see that, right? He is yet another example of a good human, and there has to be more, Y/n, you know it deep down!
And just like that, Y/n could feel herself slowly turning back to thoughts she once had as a child—all because of this, this!
This guy. Something about him was making her falter on the hatred her mother ingrained in her. Something about him was making this soldier fall out of line…
And back at the table, that someone was almost disturbing those around him with how his leg was bouncing. A ding from his phone made his knee instantly knock against the table, spilling some of the liquid in his drink-twin’s cup. Begin the panic! Napkin after wadded napkin built up on the table as Raph worked to clean up the spill as best as he could, almost going so far as to pour some of his in to make up for the bit lost. Alas, some restraint was exercised while checking the notification that started this whole debacle to begin with.
It was from a certain nosy brother, texting for “the deets“ of what was going on.
Agitated, he turned to the old ladies at the window who instantly—DESPERATELY—looked everywhere else, pretending they weren’t just boring holes into the back of his head.
“Knock it off, you two! I will not be giving you the ‘deets!‘ So stay out of it—you’re throwing me off”
Raph turned back after having whisper-shouted to the ‘ladies’. No, scratch that, to the not-so-dearest brothers clad in blue and purple who took to elderly human disguises. Why, you may ask? To keep an eye on their brother who was currently trying out a mystic cloaking prototype.
As he leaned into the palm of his hand, huffing and twiddling with the delicate chain around his neck, Raph thought back on what led up to him being here, his special café, with THEM, his meddling little brothers. His human thumb ran across the twinkling ruby as it gave off a magical glow.
So, roll back the cameras—back before you strolled through the door.
Raph had a rather awkward entrance. By no means had he fibbed about frequenting here for the past five years, but there was a crucial detail left out.
This was the first day that he came in with so little clothes.
Not like that, no, I mean that he usually only ventures into the human’s stores and public spaces in get-ups that had him sticking out like a sore thumb. Like seriously, who wears scarves, hats, masks, and coats in summer and spring? But today, clad with a magical item, he was just a normal human being. Normal humans had the privilege of not melting themselves under radiating suns from seasonally-inappropriate disguises. They also held the privilege of getting their drink ‘for here’ instead of ‘to-go.’
And boy was he grateful for that on this day specifically.
See, when he had his antsy, awkward encounter with the barista minutes before you came in, he had been all-too-prepared to grumpily seat himself with the odd old ladies. He had even encouraged himself, “Alright Raph, you got this!” before making a complete fool of himself.
“Raph would like to buy one spiced red velvet latte, thank you….”
He and the worker exchanged glances for a few moments. Nobody could miss the quirked eyebrow they gave at his approach. Recovering from the oddity, they typed away on their device then wordlessly stared up at him. Raph felt that there was something to be done now, as though their eyes were conveying a ‘Well? Go on?’ message. Come on, Raphie, you’ve done this a million times over, why now do you blank out?
“And uh… Where does he pay..?”
Raph added, giving an apologetic smile to the poor worker whose face almost read as ‘this isn’t the normalest customer service experience I’ve had, but it definitely isn’t the worst.’ They gestured to the card reader, adding a low, confused “here, sir.”
After he then fumbled with his card, Raph finally paid and made his way to the pick-up counter. Not so bad.. definitely could do better. Nonetheless, he was brimming with pride from configuring how to order, as a human. He rocked back n’forth on his heels, only coming to a standstill when his attention gravitated towards the baristas working fluidly. Down he came from all the jittery nerves of talking to a human, especially while in a rather comfortable outfit, perfected with the stylish mutant-cloaking necklace! Raph almost started fiddling with the golden chain yet again, this time out of grateful thank yous to the inanimate jewelry piece.
But he held himself back, hands shifting down into his pockets. Donnie had told him plenty of times to, “refrain from touching it.” Which, fair, it was a prototype, and Raph was sure he would need to permanently avoid this place if he shifted back in front of all these people! Or, well, all the workers. Not really a busy place when you’re quite literally a hidden gem. Needless to say, he was only halfway aware of his surroundings when the door chimed. A bell rang out and in walked a figure wearing his favorite color.
Now the color alone would always catch his eye, but the reason he lingered was solely because of her. First, he started at the sandals. Awfully pretty, especially with how they wrapped up and around her calves. Raph could never pull that off, he concluded mentally. Next, his gaze continued to climb, taking in the red dress. The way it—
He blinked and began chiding himself for staring so blatantly. It wasn’t polite! Raph’s eyes darted back to the front and center, aimlessly looking at the menu he may or may not have known well enough to not even look. Away his gaze went, searching for yet another sight to focus on. Ah, right, he noticed the baristas had yet to start on his drink, which he didn’t mind, he wasn’t in a rush for anything more than a normal thing to look at for as long as needed without being creepy. A sign, a table, even a chip in the floors! But all too quickly he found his eyes roaming back to her. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail; although, a few pesky strands must have been bothering her because occasionally her swift hand moved to brush them right back behind her ear.
His phone buzzed, bringing him back from his staring trance once again. It was the perfect opportunity to distract himself, and so when he glanced at the notification, the last thing he wanted to see was a notification from Leo. Raph held in an eye roll as he read, ‘Staring quite hard there, brother of mine’ He promptly let his phone slip back into the pockets of his basketball shorts, leaving the message on delivered.
Though he did lull his head towards the two elderly dressed women in one corner of the coffeehouse, giving the one clad in blue a hard stare that read his reply, Shut up. Raph knew full well he was guilty of the accused crime, staring. Didn’t mean he wanted or needed to be called out by his very annoying little brother, and it definitely didn’t help that Leo had a smug face despite the ridiculous amount of makeup he had on. “Gotta look the part!” Leo’s voice echoed in Raph’s head from earlier this morning, as Leo somehow forced Donnie to put on the makeup as well. They looked absurd, and Raph was thankful for the cloaking necklace now more than ever.
Still, Raph found his gaze trailing back to you so much that he dragged his hands down his face, stretching and groaning out, low and exhausted. It wasn’t till the call for a “Spiced red velvet latte!” broke his trance enough that he sluggishly moved over. Like a crescendo, his energy came back with each step until he reached for his drink with a polite nod to the barista. Their shocked look and follow-up sentence was what brought his eyes elsewhere. Down to the cup.
The hand he recognized much-too-quickly stiffly hovered near, and her gaze was a mixture of an unknown emotion and pure confusion. He, too, stiffened up as though meeting the eyes of Medusa herself. Gosh, she’s even prettier up close, a side-tracked thought said, only for him to recoil his rude hand and gesture to the drink. He was apologizing before your gaze could shift into anything that may have ached his heart, following it up with insisting you take the drink. He could wait! Whatever you were saying next was muffled as he found himself entirely entranced, answering in automated sentences that may or may not have been prepared, had he found himself locked in small talk with a human.
So, to break the trance, he accepted the next identical latte handed to him and turned, quick to flee the scene. That is, until the spell knocked up a notch with your hand on him, inviting him to sit.
And that is exactly how he got into this position: sipping his latte as he watched you come back over to your rightful seat, having left the lavatory. All while trying his best to look like a normal person who definitely did not make some of your drink rock out of its mug a second ago. No, not him. Totally. He’s innocent.
“Sorry! I was, er… Splashing my face. To do away with some sleepiness…”
Raph nodded, taking another sip of his drink that had since cooled down. Did he look guilty? Was he playing it off? He choked up on the sweet liquid upon your next statement.
“Whuh—it’s sticky, did you spill something?”
Curiosity and a bit of wariness swirled in your eyes as they bore through him, begging for an answer. He was caught red-handed, entirely so. All he could do was admit his crime, a sigh slipping his lips as he gave an ashamed look to the left like a regretful puppy-dog.
“I was hopin’ I’d cleaned up alla mess ‘fore ya got back. I had some nervous jitters and knocked the table.. Sorry, Y/n..”
There was yet another one of those uncharacteristic thumps in your chest when his eyes met yours, pleading forgiveness. Rather than the usual bitterness settling in your chest, you found yourself a tad bit more patient towards this special boy. Your cheeks flushed, emitting a heat soothed by the cool side of your hand pressing against it with an even more uncharacteristic stammering.
“Y-You’re fine.. Thank you, for the honesty and clearing the mess.”
The next bout of silence was less awkward and more-so dizzying—in a good way. It fluttered your heart and felt welcoming. As the last bit of your drink passed your lips and settled inside, filling you with blissful comfort, you held out a hand for his empty mug. Perhaps a change of heart would do you some good—a kind gesture returned for someone who truly deserved none of your hatred. His eyes met yours, quickly understanding as he stood and passed the cup to you. This moment was coming to an end, and somehow that made your eyes sting for a moment. It was almost as if a tear was threatening you to prolong it as the ceramics were placed upon their respective ‘for-washing’ pedestals at the disposal corner.
“Well, Raph… it was nice meeting you.”
“Likewise.”
His smile had you considering an option you would never ever do. Your mind strayed to where your phone was, itching to ask this boy a certain question. Together, you both walked out of the café—and again, you missed how the two old ladies were practically becoming the window with how hard they pressed to the glass, nosily watching.
The morning sun was still bright in the sky, shining through clouds in a way that almost spotlighted you guys as you gathered the courage to ask! Turning to face him, you bit the bullet and opened your mouth!
“Could we exch—IRK!”
Y/n lurched forwards when someone knocked into her in a fashion that just couldn’t have been played off as an accident. Thankfully she had bumped straight into Raph (and tried desperately to ignore how nice his chest felt), but the draining, nauseating feeling that began quickly washing over was enough to raise alarms.
And she knew the exact cause. It wasn’t the closeness to a human or the lack of an “excuse me” or “sorry” for shoving her. No, there was another, far more important cause to the sickness tightening. Y/n raised her dominant hand, holding her clutch and finding that a special ring was no longer wrapped around her finger. Of the things to have taken, had this one thing seemed much more important than a literal wallet?!
“The nerve of some people! He totally meant th—Y/n, whoa, ya look pale! Are you okay?”
His hand instinctually made contact with you, brushing some stray hairs away from your face as you had done a few times earlier.
“Th-That guy, he—thief, he took my-my!”
You held your hand, twirling air around where a ring once was. Raph blanked for a second, thinking you had meant something to do with your clutch, but as his eyes zeroed in on the light prints of an absent ring, it suddenly all made sense to Raph. A rushed “What? Wait here,” was muttered before he was quickly pursuing the thief. All while leaving you against the outside walls of the café.
You watched Raph’s figure leave. A heavy exhale clawed itself from your chest. How foolish! You had been so caught up in thought—about asking for Raph’s number, that you had allowed someone to get so close. Too close, right into your personal space, and completely able to swipe your ring.
That small piece of jewelry was dearer to you than anything else you owned. It was what contained your power, or rather, what kept it in control. Without it, you were a hazard who started leaking mystic energy immediately. Red sparks crackling around your eyes when you were pushed.
Just seconds from a potential disaster, but somehow it was Raph’s voice that snapped you out of it. You couldn’t lose control here in front of the one place you swore to protect from your evil. You wouldn’t lose control in front of him. So when you barely explained with a shaky voice and he quickly sprung into action, leaving you, there was relief swirling around. This was a good thing. You’d rather him not be around to witness if you couldn’t maintain a firm grip on your power. Not him. Okay, try to distract yourself. Control, think about anything else, anything but your magic right now.
Oh, right! He had held you!
The thought struck you so fiercely your cheeks heated to the same shade as your dress. The warmth of his arms holding you lingered. Even just remembering the feel of his broad chest had you utterly distracted. And it hadn’t stopped there! He had brushed your hair away from your face, his fingers so careful and gentle. That type of touch was quite foreign to you. It had you blushing even more furiously than before—if that was even possible. Your eyes never left Raph’s back until he dashed out of view into an alleyway.
As soon as Raph had seen your expression twist and realized you had been wronged, it was like his body moved before his brain could catch up. The perpetrator had sped up into a jog, after hearing Y/n call out “thief.”
Luckily there weren't that many people crowding the sidewalks this morning. Especially since this part of the city wasn't as advertised. Raph’s green eyes tracked the punk as he dodged into an alleyway. He pushed himself faster, shrinking any chances of this guy getting away right on down to zero. Maybe even into the negatives if he tried hard enough,
Fate was on Raph’s side, as is befitting of the hero, because he slowed to a stop to find the petty criminal glaring at the dead end before him. The universe was practically handing this criminal over to Raph in a cute little red bow right now.
“Alright felon, hand back the stolen ring.”
His voice was rough and commanding. Above all else, he despised those who preyed on the weak. Criminal acts like these deserved a good beating, but Raph was willing to compromise on that if this perp coughed up the ring without making things difficult.
“Back up, hero!”
The cornered thief sneered as he brandished a knife, waving it threateningly.
Raph couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. If only this guy knew! Raph and his brothers faced weapons tenfold more menacing on every patrol. He doubted such a dull thing could even pierce his shell. For a second, he toyed with the thought of taking off the cloaking necklace. Showing his true form. This punk looked like the type to wet himself, and the slight trembling in his hand that wielded such a crude weapon didn’t go unnoticed by Big Raphie.
“They always wanna do it the hard way,”
Raph murmured, shaking his head as he moved forward. This guy was sorely underestimating him. It was comical! Raph ended up wondering if his human form, despite its size, just wasn’t all that intimidating. That would be new to him. So Raph opted for using this to his advantage. After all, he may look big, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fast, and what was more rewarding than proving wrong the criminal foolish enough to underestimate the Raphael Hamato?
The crook hardly got a second to blink before he was sprawled out on the ground, clutching his gut as he dragged in wounded breaths. Securely in Raph’s palm rested a wooden ring, Y/n’s ring. It had a band of red jewels inside that glimmered brightly even though the alleyway was covered in shadows. He smiled to himself, it seemed as though you really liked this color. His color.
Yet another thing the two of you had in common, other than drinks. How much more did the two of you share interest in?. He wanted—no, needed—to find out.
Now Raph was sure he had held back on his punches, but it was painfully obvious this culprit was struggling to even stand. I see no issue with him turning his back on a downed enemy, do you? Was that overkill? No? Maybe? Who’s here to judge him, honestly?
“Next time, think twice before stealing from a pretty lady.”
He growled over his shoulder before starting up a run back to you. Raph hoped he hadn’t taken too long as he tried to move just a little faster to get back to your side.
Since having been left by Raph, you were finding each second to be harder and harder to restrain the burst of overflowing magic. Thoughts and distractions could only take you so far before fizzling out. Just as you were your mother’s vessel for revenge, that ring was your vessel for magic—a conduit, even. Others would even call it your arcane focus.
Bottomline was, without it, you could barely handle the destructive force pinballing around within. It seems the state you were in was so worrying that the two elderly ladies from the cafe came out, frantically bickering in harsh whispers that were all too muffled in your ears.
Was it getting hot in here, or was it just you? Anyone else? Just you? Alright. Your body pressed harder into the cafe’s brick walls, soothed by the coolness they held. Your head was spinning, with worry and desperation. Was this area hidden enough to attract more danger? Had you really been so foolish as to leave yourself open in prime human territory? Hell, what if this was all an elaborate trick and that thief was actually in cahoots with Raph, and vice versa?
But, what if these are all just your delirious, panicked thoughts? Remember the little voice, the one beckoning hope. She wants to believe humans are good. She wants to believe Raph is good.
You want to believe humans are good, don’t you? How did that one saying go, the one about how even the smallest things can cause the biggest changes? However it went, it seemed this Raph human might have been your smallest thing, creating this ripple of thoughts in your head.
Or, again, maybe that’s the delirium.
You had almost entirely given up on the last bits of hope for Raph being good when finally you saw his silhouette running back to you. He had the widest grin on his face, waving your focus in the air and calling out “Y/n! I got it, ya don’t gotta worry!”
You weren’t sure when the ladies had left, but when he slowed down in front of you and took your hand, you couldn’t help but notice you were all alone.
Old humans were… strange.
Color returned to your skin, the plummeting left your chest, and your tremors ceased as the polished wooden ring slid back into its rightful place upon your hand.
“Th-Thank you…”
You breathed out, allowing yourself to press into him once again with your senses returning faster than you were capable of handling with a straight face. Your forehead rested against his chest as the overflowing energy was being vacuumed right on back to the ring, leaving you far more winded than any training session with Mother had done.
“It’s no problem, Y/n… This ring must be really important to have you this… Upset…”
His voice was softer than it had been during your talks inside. There was obvious concern and worry laced in it. Such kindness was nearly unrecognizable to you, so forgive the temporary dependence on it.
“More than you know, Raph..”
You replied, rubbing the ring so that it twirled around your skin—a nervous habit that Raph took notice to almost immediately. Forgive him, as well, for the heightened attention he had on you right now. A fond smile settled upon his lips as something came back to him suddenly.
“About your question a moment ago, before… well, this. Sure.”
“What?”
You looked up, confused by what he meant. The smile he gave you was enough to put even more hope in your head, eroding the grime and muck that poisoned you, beckoning you deeper to the villainous pits.
“T’exchange numbers, right? That was what ya almost asked?”
Oh! You had completely forgotten that part. Straightening up and taking a coy step back from him, you pulled your cellular from a pocket in your dress (because, really, what villain wears a dress without pockets? never you, of course) and handed it to him with bashful joy.
After the exchange, you both waved your goodbyes, then turned your adoring gaze to the contact in your phone.
𝘙𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘭 (𝘚𝘙𝘝 𝘓𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦 𝘛𝘸𝘪𝘯)
(1)𝘟𝘟𝘟-𝘟𝘟𝘟-𝘟𝘟𝘟𝘟
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inscrutable-shadow · 3 months
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Mine
guess who's writing prized possession au instead of anything else they should be doing it's meeeee i barely edited this have fun (it has footnotes!)
also on ao3!
"Reality. Settle," his father commanded, and Reality forced his knee to stop bouncing.
Holding still proved to be impossible, though. The itch built up inside of him and made him squirm. "Apologies, father, I am afraid I must…"
His mother squeezed his shoulder in concern. "Is it your magic? Do you need to go outside and blow something up, darling?"
The idea sounded promising, but he'd done quite a lot of that this morning, and the arcane power roiling inside of him was actually much calmer than usual. With a flick of his fingers, Reality turned the remainder of his glass of wine into champagne. Delicious, but casting the spell didn't bring the feeling of relief that it usually would if his magic were acting up. "No, I am simply… restless."
"He's just bored with the party." His cousin Delphina's voice was full of reproach, and he didn't miss the "spoiled brat" she muttered under her breath, either. At nearly thirty years of age [1], Reality thought he was a bit old to be called a brat. Delphinia's hatred of him was both well-known and a constant, though, so he ignored it.
The party was rather dull. As the premier social event of the season, the Midwinter Ball was the central hub for the political doings of the Winter Court, and the royal families of each of the Courts were obviously required to attend. The Hibernal King was both saturnine and mercurial, not given to socialising, and had spent most of the evening watching the proceedings silently from his throne. Reality was desperately trying to avoid the Vernal Queen and her daughter, who would either try to rope him into dancing or talk his ear off about something inane, and the Autumn Court's royals seemed to have about the same idea, given that they were remaining stubbornly on the other side of the ballroom. There was also a scattering of human royalty in attendance, invited as a formality and not worth his time. He'd hoped to see an old acquaintance, a prince from the Dragonlands with whom he'd been friendly as a child, but the Diamond Heir didn't seem to be here. Dragons disliked the cold. He supposed it was only fair. In lieu of anything interesting to do, Reality been busying himself trying to make sure he ate at least one of everything being served, but now his stomach was getting full and the wine was going to his head and he just didn't feel like it.
As his listless gaze scanned over the crowd, he accidentally caught the eye of the Princess of Blossom. Not good. She smiled at him and started cutting across the dance floor toward him. The last thing he wanted to do was talk, or Divines forbid *dance,* with the princess of Spring, but there didn't appear to be any sort of escape for him available. His parents didn't understand his distress, and Delphinia only laughed at him. Nothing for it, then. He buried his face in his hands, summoning together the will to put his court face on, but then the music stopped.
The dance floor cleared, and the partygoers all withdrew to their own tables, the Blossom Princess included. The orchestra that had been playing for the night so far mostly departed, leaving behind a string quartet, which began to tune and check strings, preparing for another segment. While they did so, a fifth young man approached, bowed to the performers, exchanged a few words, then opened his own violin case.
This new person was human, going by the shape of his ears, and probably only recently of age. Dressed in a doublet of black with red embroidery, he set the violin on his shoulder, pushing aside waves of dark hair that framed his face. A silver circlet nestled into that hair, studded with emeralds. A prince?
"Who is that?" Reality whispered to his manservant, Ioan. An inexplicable curiosity had come over him.
Ioan followed his gaze. "Ah, the young heir Iuventus. Prince Thanatos, I believe, my lord."
"His eyes are red."
"A hereditary trait, my lord. House Iuventae is known for producing scions with the most brilliant eye colors. He's quite the sought-after match," Ioan added pointedly, and Reality rolled his eyes.
Even as young as he was, people were already "subtly encouraging" Reality to choose a match. The divinity inside him shifted uncomfortably at the thought, and he turned the champagne flute into a butterfly in an attempt to calm it. He was already a magical weapon of mass destruction, a disaster waiting to happen. He couldn't risk passing this on to an heir [2]. No, the Fiothrey line must end with him. It wasn't as if any of the noble fae daughters had caught his eye. This had given many the notion that it was a good idea to waggle their eyebrows pointedly in the direction of the sons. Reality didn't appreciate that either. If he wanted something, he took it. If he didn't have something, it was because he didn't want it.
The human prince was rather attractive, though, he had to admit. Everything about him was long and thin: from his delicate fingers dancing on the violin strings to his elegant lashes and sculpted brows; save for his face, which while long was soft, and his body, which while thin, was rather short compared to most fae [3], though he was probably average for a human. He reminded one of a puppet dancing under the control of a masterful puppeteer: every movement graceful but regimented, shifting from point to point with calculated ease. Reality found himself watching the boy with a mix of amused curiosity and captivated wonderment.
And then he began to play.
The quartet came in first, playing a tune that was common in the Winter Court and often played at Midwinter Balls. Boring, and Reality mentally checked out before the second measure, but just after he'd settled his chin on his chest and committed to allowing the food coma to claim him, he heard a sound that stopped everything in its tracks. The prince's bow on the violin strings produced a haunting countermelody, a juxtaposition of death with rebirth, the essence of winter. Reality was absolutely transported to the center of a snowy lake, watching a single figure dance gracefully to a tune only the two of them could hear. He'd never felt such a sensation of internal peace. Even his magic went completely calm, without a hint of the shifting, crackling pulse that had underlaid his whole life. Every fragment of his attention was on this mortal prince.
Reality was sure he must look quite the fool, sitting here with his mouth agape, just staring, but it was as if he'd been spellbound, utterly incapable of movement. The human boy's crimson eyes remained mostly shut, save for when he opened them slightly to check the next section of music, but for a moment, his hooded gaze swept over the audience and caught on Reality's. Their eyes locked for a moment, and along with the rhythmic moment of his head as he played, Reality was sure he saw the prince smile at him. A pang of emotion struck him through the heart.
When the music stopped, the prince boned and exited the stage amidst enthusiastic but restrained applause. Reality turned to his father and gripped him by the sleeve.
"I want him."
"Whom? The human prince? They are not toys, you know, my son. It may be difficult to—"
"I want him."
[1] Fae, while not immortal, are incredibly long lived, and can achieve lifespans in excess of five hundred years. In the Courts, the accepted age at which young fae reach maturity is held to be twenty-five years old.
[2] The royal lines of the fae Courts are, for reasons lost to time, cut with divinity. This grants them unprecedented control over magic, with the cost that, if not sufficiently diluted, their bloodlines can produce demigods. Reality Fiothrey was one of these. the body of a mortal is not designed to contain the power of a god, and that divinity will regularly attempt escape, often explosively, if not kept rigorously in check by frequent usage of large amounts of arcane energy and exemplary self-discipline. Reality was already teetering on the edge of the maximum divine-to-mortal ratio possible to keep stable into adulthood. Even if he were to attempt to reproduce with a human with no chance of divinity in the blood, it was probable that the offspring would destabilise and detonate, taking half of the fey wilds with it. That Reality himself had not was a testament to his sheer force of will.
[3] especially Reality, who was nearly seven feet and showed no signs of slowing. The Divine Reality, who would likely incarnate into him, was known to appear at fantastic sizes usually no less than thirty feet. Everyone who knew Reality desperately hoped he would not grow that large.
taglist: @crash-bump-bring-the-whump @athenswrites
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thecreaturecodex · 2 years
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Trollnǿste
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Image © Traci Shepard, accessed at Arcane Beasts and Critters here
[This is honestly one of my favorite Traci Shepard pieces. The trollnǿste is a Norwegian familiar, and highlights something that D&D, Pathfinder and other tabletop RPGs often forget about. Most people are not adventurers. Most people are not warriors, or even long distance travelers. Most people are just trying to make it to see the next sunrise, or the next summer, or the next child grown up. So a magical entity that steals milk for you and regurgitates it into your pail is probably going to be more useful to a peasant turned witch than any ability to shoot lightning bolts or turn people into animals. Lots of societies have stories about familiars that rob the neighbors in order to account for unexpected or “unwarranted” fortune for one person and not for another. The toyol is another version of this theme in the Codex.]
Trollnǿste CR 1 N Construct This odd little creature looks like a ball of hair, yarn and other fibers given life. It waddles around on four short legs. Rather than having a separate head, one side of it is dominated by an animalistic face.
A trollnǿste, sometimes called a troll cat or a troll ball, is a construct created as a way of facilitating theft. They can absorb enormous amounts of liquid into their bodies quickly, allowing their masters to steal milk, wine or other valuable fluids from a distance. In general, trollnǿstes do not wish to fight, and attempt to hide and flee if caught in the act. If they are cornered, however, a trollnǿste can deliver a sharp bite, or disgorge some of its fluids in a shoving blast to facilitate escape.
Despite their bizarre appearances, trollnǿstes behave more like cats than like monsters. They are occasionally aloof, but playful and enjoy being cuddled on their terms. They will chase mice and insects, killing them instinctively but not actually eating them. Some witches keep multiple trollnǿstes in whole colonies, as they require less cleaning up after and no food. Their owners need to be careful about open flames, however, because trollnǿstes are especially vulnerable to fire. A trollnǿste can be taken as a familiar using the Improved Familiar feat by a spellcaster of any alignment and 3rd character level or higher.
Creating a trollnǿste A trollnǿste is made from scraps of hair and yarn, wood shavings and animal bones. A pint of the creator’s blood, dealing 1 point of Con damage to the creator, is added to the mix upon completion in order to bring the creature to life.
Trollnǿste CL 5th; Price 1,500 gp Requirements Craft Construct, cup of dust, hydraulic push, make whole; Skill Craft (weaving) DC 12; Cost 750 gp.
Trollnǿste          CR ½ XP 200 N Tiny construct Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +1 Defense AC 14, touch 14, flat-footed 12 (+2 size, +2 Dex) hp 11 (2d10) Fort +0, Ref +2, Will +1 Immune construct immunities; Weakness vulnerable to fire Offense Speed 30 ft. Melee bite +4 (1d4) Space 2 ½ ft.; Reach 0 ft. Statistics Str 10, Dex 14, Con -, Int 3, Wis 13, Cha 6 Base Atk +2; CMB +2; CMD 12 (16 vs. trip) Feats Stealthy Skills Climb +4, Escape Artist +5, Stealth +13; Racial Modifiers +4 Climb Languages any one (cannot speak) SQ absorb fluid Ecology Environment any land or underground Organization solitary or tangle (2-6) Treasure none Special Abilities Absorb Fluid (Su) As a standard action, a trollnǿste that is touching a liquid can absorb it into its body. It can absorb a gallon a round. Such liquid is held in an extradimensional space—a trollnǿste can hold up to ten gallons of liquid, and store different liquids separately if it so chooses. A trollnǿste can release this liquid violently as a standard action; as long as it releases a gallon or more in a round, this acts as a hydraulic push spell (CL 2nd, CMB +3) as a supernatural ability. It can also release liquid more gently if it chooses to. If a trollnǿste is kept in an extradimensional space, such as a bag of holding, it bursts, killing it and releasing all of the liquid. When a trollnǿste is slain, the liquid it contains spills out, usually ruining it.
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ravnloft · 1 month
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hellooooooooooooo i realized i have never done like a full list of my ocs. so here it is
amma theylin: dark elf rogue, chaotic neutral (leans evil), dual-wielding swords and ranged bow, proficient in being sneaky and being hot. tragic backstory is she became infatuated with a guy who was trying really hard to be lawful good and when he dropped the ball on their coup d'état plot she killed him and ran. will do literally anything if it pays well enough. played her in dnd, bg3 and elder scrolls.
lady gwendolyn viridience morrigan, druidess, esq.: half-elf druid, usually chaotic good, majored in botany, minored in ethically questionable usage of charm spells. tends a greenhouse that holds a portal to the feywild, the stewardship of which she was bequeathed by a very powerful archwizard and mentor and good friend, on his deathbed. she never wanted it but the choice was between her and her evil sister/s so the archwizard gave it gwen. now she uses it to (1) be the best damn florist in neverwinter (2) howl's moving castle her way away from bad fantasy tinder dates because she's a hopeless romantic and terrified of commitment. played her in dnd and bg3.
samson o'dare: human/aasimar paladin, true good, big sword and bigger shield, great with animals, has wings like a mourning dove. he worshiped chauntea as a child and then one day lathander appeared to him in the middle of a field and told him it was his holy holy duty to be a paladin of light. samson was like hell yeah i want a sword. and began adventuring. adventuring quickly proved to be far more unpleasant than he had expected and he prays to chauntea every day like "mom i'm scared come pick me up". played him in dnd and bg3.
nol barrow-bound: undead death cleric, ??? (she is extremely impressionable), sickle and staff/half-caster, uses a human skull as an arcane focus and has 1 million holy symbols on her person. used to be a hag's apprentice and then she woke up on the side of the road one day and was just like, "guess i'm an entrepreneur now". gifted alchemist, even more gifted necromancer, makes her living as an herbalist and medium, lowkey cheats on the medium part because she just tells people what they want to hear (or at least what she thinks they want to hear) but she doesn't see it as cheating because she IS contacting the dead she just isn't letting them be RUDE. collects roadkill. also kind of looks like roadkill. one time i thought "haha what if nol and samson were in an adventuring party together" and now they're tragedy-to-romance endgame lovers. played her in dnd and skyrim. she's usually my go-to for dnd oneshots :')
sigg solveig/sigourney gevaudan: human (? she's huge, there's no way she's fully human)/werewolf barbarian, will change her entire ethos if a hot girl says so, sword/axe/hammer so big it is physically impossible for people other than her to wield. tragic backstory is she contracted lycanthropy at a young age and wound up killing her familar. she went into hiding and became a fighter, a laborer, a soldier, whatever put food on her table, but eventually her lycanthropic bloodlust got hard to control and she became a hermit rather than risk killing her loved ones again. she is not smart or wise or especially clever but why would she need to be when she can crush someone's head with one hand. womanizer but her deepest wish is to get married and be a stay-at-home mom baking for her wife every day. played her in pathfinder and skyrim.
princess daisychain frances van pancypants iii: goblin, class variable but generally support/healing, true good. looks like an albino bat. raised by halflings. the sweetest, nicest, tiniest magical girl you will ever meet. completely filled with love. knows one (1) swear word. played her in dnd.
arkhemites "miette" du bäl: tiefling warlock, something evil but might go on a hero's journey idk, worships whatever tentacled space monster is native to the setting. wants to plunge the world into entropy so it can be born anew. she's noble or royal but has like 16 sisters and most of them are older. played her in starfinder.
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talesofarcadiaforever · 11 months
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22 or 23 please
I am so sorry it took me so long to answer this my inspiration fluctuates between things like a ping pong ball! Despite it being about the blorbo of all time 😭
22 is gonna be answered in another post!
23. Unpopular character you love?
MERLIN
And that should be very obvious. 🤣
Listen. I love him. I do. But… I have a few problems with his character now, and that’s because of the writers.
He’s pretty inconsistent sometimes.
For one, his powers. (Or supposed lack thereof?)
He’s described as the most powerful wizard to have ever lived, but he doesn’t… really do anything to show it.
He banished Morgana himself according to Trollhunters, ended the Eternal Night, fought the Arcane Order for a millenia, (all offscreen), was implied to have banished their Titans himself, and was briefly able to put Bellroc and Skrael in chains. That’s… pretty much it.
The discrepancy in his magic is really obvious between Trollhunters and Wizards if you take the time to think about it. For one example, in Trollhunters, he flies when he ends the Eternal Night; in Wizards, he levitates himself on a chest to get himself up to his ship?
For another example, I’ve seen so many people talk about how “weak” he is because he couldn’t make the Amulet or banish Morgana without Douxie’s help. But in Trollhunters, he builds it alone, with Moppet!Douxie only handing him the parts he needed, and he could have used his telekinesis for that. He also banishes Morgana himself, and he thought his magic was gone because of that, not because of Morgana keeping him asleep and stealing it for nine hundred years.
In Wizards, Douxie does most of the work building the Amulet, and he’s the one who banished Morgana because Merlin “couldn’t”.
But those are retcons. There’s literally art of the cave painting where he banishes Morgana in the artbook!
He got nerfed!
He also has powers that seem to only be there for one plot reason, and they’re never mentioned again, as if he, the wizard who is supposed to be the most powerful one of time according to the writers before he showed up onscreen, would forget about them. I can think of at least two: teleportation and freezing time. Teleportation was only used once. Once, a barely noticeable time when he did it in A House Divided to leave Jim alone to think. Not when Galahad’s sacrificing himself, not when Arthur is jumping right towards him, and not when Arthur has him in a chokehold. Freezing time was also only used once! It wasn’t used in literally any situation where it would have been a lifesaver. (Possibly literally.) It wasn’t used when again, Galahad was sacrificing himself, when Jim was slamming the shard in his heart to become, unbeknownst to him, a beast under the Order’s control, when Beast!Jim was holding his son hostage, and when Arthur was, again, jumping right towards him. But it’s used in the next episode after he dies to save Douxie, who I have complicated feelings about. But he’s going to be in another post.
That’s just his powers. Now onto his trauma and how that isn’t shown at all!
He’s already so interesting but he could have been so much MORE.
To sum it up, his apprentice betrays him and indirectly murders his Trollhunters and gloats about it. A very old friend sacrifices himself to buy him time while he’s dealing with his worst enemies being back.
No you know what? I’m pissed about this actually. This, right here, could have been a great thing. This could have been a scene where Merlin quietly admits it, or Nimue, midway through attacking him, realizes his desire/remembers it from him getting Excalibur. And she softens, and he explains why he did it, and he sets her free. It would have shown his motivations a lot more and would have given him a way to shine as the deurotagonist, but no. This quirky asshole who we’ve seen for all of five minutes slams a pillar into her and knocks one of her teeth out when he couldn’t even properly chase down a Mephit! This little bitch empathizes with her and sets her free even after he did that. What does Merlin get? He gets eaten. This badass gets reduced to being comic relief with Steve when instead that could have happened. Just one of the many ways canon in general does him dirty!
For one thing, they made this stupid boy with an accent the protagonist of Wizards, when it would have made far more sense to have Merlin, an already major character, the protagonist. It would have also been more interesting imo but I’m kind of biased. He was also supposed to be the deurotagonist, but that’s more of an informed thing than anything. Grace was surprised when she looked it up on the ToA wiki. He could have so many moments, and this is just one of them.
Then he fucking dies. Arthur gets murdered by one of Merlin’s worst enemies and then they resurrect him as a lackey for who knows how long because the canon timeline sucks And in Wizards, he stabs Merlin in the gut, right through his armor and throws him out a window. He ends dying like a minute later. And just. God. Someone asked the writer I’ve been talking about how that happened, and he was like “Merlin’s armor doesn’t hold up against dark magic that well.” Which doesn’t make any sense. 🙃 HIS ENTIRE TOMB IN TROLLHUNTERS IS ANTI-MAGIC, AND HE LITERALLY ALREADY A VENDETTA AGAINST DARK MAGIC EVEN BEFORE MORGANA BETRAYED HIM. And it’s so annoying when Merlin is portrayed as a weak wizard because he’s the most powerful wizard ever! Canon unfortunately doesn’t really show it BUT HE IS He was the one who defeated the Arcane Order and banished their Titans for a thousand years. He was the one who sealed Nimue in a cave, and he was the creator of the Daylight Amulet. He was the one who fought Morgana and banished her. He was the one who ended the Eternal Night. And in Episode One of Wizards, when he astral projected to that guy, all the streetlights on that street were broken before he even showed himself. But thinking about that made me realize he’s really only powerful when the plot demands it. If the Arcane Order could kill him, they would have when he was fighting them for a millennium. They wouldn’t have killed him by proxy, with a lackey. Especially Skrael, who seems to have a higher vendetta against him than his sibling. And since he can teleport, he should have been to grab Galahad like he will in EE, and he could have teleported out of Arthur’s grip. I also don’t know why his armor isn’t anti-magic when his entire tomb is.
Also HE'S LITERALLY ABLE TO FREEZE TIME IN THE NEXT DAMN EPISODE AND YET HE'S NEVER SHOWN USING IT BEFORE THAT DESPITE THE FACT THAT HE'S A TIME WIZARD AND HIS CENTER OF MAGIC IS SUPPOSED TO BE TIME IT'S JUST STUPID TO ME NOW
I'VE RANTED ABOUT THIS BEFORE BUT HE'S LITERALLY ABLE TO FREEZE TIME IN THE NEXT EPISODE
AND YET HE'S NEVER SHOWN USING IT BEFORE THAT DESPITE THE FACT THAT HE'S A *TIME WIZARD*
IT'S JUST NARM TO ME NOW
ALSO MERLIN IS A THOUSANDS YEAR OLD WARRIOR AND THE ONLY FIGHT HE ACTUALLY WON WAS AGAINST A FUCKING SIXTEEN YEAR OLD
Granted a very skilled sixteen year old but it still!!! Doesn't make sense!!!
So basically Merlin’s death was literally just to give him angst, and if anyone could kill him, he would have died YEARS AGO.
Oh, and canon and fanon can’t decide on Merlin either! Canon says Merlin is the most powerful wizard of all time, but he never gets to show it, and it seems more of an informed thing than anything. And the fact that’s he’s the fucking deurotagonist of Wizards is an informed thing too. And there would been more of his backstory, and more characterization, but it got fucking cut
His exact quote? He said “Leave them alone, Morgana.” He said them. He wasn’t referring to just AAARRRGGHH!!! If he had, he would’ve said “Leave him alone, Morgana.” HE. SAID. THEM.
He can TELEPORT
LOOK AT HIM.
He got done dirty. So dirty.
my ramble about just the canon angst he went through
He breathes FIRE and look at him in this one. HE TAKES DOWN MORGANA WHILE HE’S INJURED AND SLAMS HER INTO THE GROUND.
LOOK AT HIM.
Important characterization scenes for him are cut
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MERLIN WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE A COUPLE OF EPISODES ABOUT HIS BACKSTORY BUT IT GOT CUT OF COURSE
I don't know why the writers did that. Maybe it was supposed an Aesop about how
"Expectations don't live up to reality." Or something.
But if he's really like that, how did he survive fighting the Arcane Order for a literal millennia? Why did Morgana want his magic so much that she kept him asleep for nine hundred years just to get it?
Canon flip-flops on him constantly, and he's only as powerful as the plot needs him to be.
He could have teleported out of Arthur's grasp, or he could have frozen time before that even happened and gotten them all out of there.
He made the Cradlestone to free the babies, and ended the Eternal Night, but they weren't really dwelled on, making him seem more like a living Deus Ex Machina if anything. In Wizards, he needed another master wizard to help him complete the Amulet.
He can teleport!! He was gone. He breathes fire in some storyboards. l'm not joking.
Before he appeared onscreen, he seemed like a revered figure. He's described as a "wizard that has power" in the art book. in EPISODE ONE.
Trollhunters actually makes him seem more badass compared to Wizards where he got more screen time.
He actually is badass, but he doesn't get to show it except for when the plot needs him to.
He was nerfed and I will not accept otherwise.
It was just to give Douxie angst.
me shaking the writers YOU DO NOT HAVE AN EXCUSE
Okay I’m mainly talking about his characterization, but he was done dirty by this too!
Look at him!
He looks amazing.
Then canon downgraded him into just an old man!
I’m sorry, but I can’t take his design seriously when he looks like that compared to his concept art.
There’s also the fandom. I originally thought that I would put it under the cut so people wouldn’t have to see my opinions, but you know what? This needs to be said, and I’m leaving it out in the open.
Five episodes. Five. And that was enough to inspire a whole tag around hating him, people who whispered a word about even liking him were harassed off the site,
And even hated for being traumatized *cough* **Merlin** *cough*
y z
I didn’t specify that it was Merlin in the first rant, but you could probably guess from even that.
*Merlin stomped on Douxie’s self-esteem as soon as he adopted him*!
“*Merlin doesn’t understand emotions! He has the emotional density of a turnip*!”
Another canon to fanon ToA thing is **MERLIN’S WHOLE PERSONALITY!!!**
He’s constantly made into the worst person ever. A bad dad. An emotionally abusive manipulator. A fucking pedophile.
“Quotes”, “meta”, and “evidence” that he’s a bad person are pulled from thin air. I know I’ve said this before, but I really feel like people are just coming up with reasons to hate him, or they’re purposely making him worse than canon so they can hate him. One time, I saw a fic author ADMIT they were writing Merlin worse than canon on purpose.
It fucking sucks to see him be changed so much. I’m know I’m going to do him justice. I know that I’m writing him in character. I have meta from Aaron, actual, honest to God **quotes**, screencaps, etc. But it still fucking sucks. I put the tag Good Merlin on Emerald Embers, but I’m still nervous that someone in the comments or somewhere else will say he’s out of character.
I am so sick of people demonizing him when Morgana is RIGHT THERE!
And yet those five episodes were enough to cause a whole tag called the Merlin hate train, people wishing violent death upon him or giving him ones, and people who gave even one hint that they liked him harassed off the site.
And most of the reason was because Merlin “manipulated Jim into becoming a half-troll!”
But he didn’t. He sat Jim down and laid out his options: 1. take the potion and win against Gunmar and whoever else he would have to fight, or 2. don’t take the potion and die a brutal, painful death.
Also, kind of off subject, but when Jim turned back to human, there was controversy over whether he should have stayed troll or not!
MAKE UP YOUR DAMN MINDS FANDOM
And the voice acting I showed you? Is from that scene. Merlin is a very, very emotionally constipated person because of all the shit and trauma he’s been through over the course of millenia, and him saying that is essentially baring his soul to a child that he barely even knows.
Does the fandom give a shit about that? No!
Does the fandom give a shit when he said “Leave them alone, Morgana.” referring to both AAARRRGGHH!!! and Angor? The latter of whom was a slave at the time? No!
Does the fandom give a shit when he grieved over his Trollhunters’ deaths? Most of them murders? No!
Does the fandom give a shit when he grieved over Galahad’s death? No!
Does the fandom give a shit when it’s implied that he sealed Nimue away to seal her away from Arthur’s massacre of magic kind? No!
Does the fandom give a shit about him being surprised when Jim gives him an affectionate nickname in Wizards? No!
DOES EVERYONE FORGET MERLIN HOLDING DOUXIE’S HANDS AND HIM HOLDING RIGHT BACK?! DOES EVERYONE FORGET MERLIN CUPPING HIS FACE? DOES EVERYONE FORGET HIM CALLING HIM HIS SON? DOES EVERYONE FORGET THEIR HUG IN EPISODE TEN?
YES
And many more things!
They were making tons of aus with Merlin as the villain, *of course*, and they were giving him death threats and saying they would kill him, throw him out of a window, and do a ton of other shit.
I hated seeing it, and sometimes I could literally feel my body getting distressed because of it.
But the worst part of seeing this?
They were wishing death on him because of their own fanon versions.
And even if he is written as a good person? He always only cares about Douxie.
His trauma, his sarcasm, his empathy, all go poof. Reddie is one of the few people who knows that he’s a good person, but even she acts like he doesn’t have any empathy at all. Hopefully I’ve demonstrated that he is a very high empath with the above.☝️ Hardly anyone in the fandom™️ appreciates his complexities at all!
No matter what, whether he’s characterized as a good person and/or good dad, or bad person and/or bad dad, all of his complexities are erased. No matter what.
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Actually a lot of them.
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Anyways,
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and he’s mine now.
Thank you so much for the ask!
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magicalshe · 9 months
Text
a few lot of things about Doris:
Doris’ magic is very connected to her mood. So the angrier she is the more violent it is, the more embarrassed the more unsteady, and the happier the more free flowing.
Since music is the easiest way to bring up emotions in a person, Doris listens to and uses a variety of music in her practice. She has dozens of playlists and homemade cd tracks all labeled for their specific uses or the feelings they help her invoke.
If you catch her cleaning her home (which is easy to do since her door is always unlocked) Doris will have the music cranked up while she dances with her snake familiar named Sugar and uses wordless magic to clean. If you catch her Doris will be embarrassed since she feels that this is an obnoxious way to clean even if it’s fun.
Her dancing with Sugar is adorable and involves the snake slithering in loops while Doris steps around her. There seems to be a pattern to it and looks very fluid due to the two of them having done this for several years.
Sugar looks like a bright blue pit viper the size of a ball python (about 4 feet in length) with eyes that look like yellow topaz gems. She is female and of a uncommon Fae species that is a smaller cousin to the mythical Basilisk. This makes her resistance to magics and non-enchanted weapons, immunity to poison/venom, produce a very deadly venom, and have a petrifying gaze that works on command.
Sugar’s venom has an odd golden hue to it. This comes from a mineral her body naturally produces often referred to as ‘snake gold’. While it exists throughout her body, it’s most highly concentrated in her venom. ‘Snake gold’ is an ingredient in alchemy popularized by the fae. It’s made by cooking down the venom and extracting the toxins over a several day process that results in a body safe crumbly, metallic gold powder. It can sell for a good price but Doris only keeps a small amount for her personal work.
Sugar is capable of a variety of minor magics: enlarge/reduce size (self only), greater invisibility (self only), invisibility, detect good and evil, dispel magic, detect thoughts, dancing lights, entangle, sleep, polymorph (self only), feather fall (self only), goodberry, confusion, sanctuary, shield, counterspell, pass without a trace (self only), remove curse, arcane lock, vicious mockery, hex, bane, bless, hold person, prestidigitation, mending, message, dragon’s breath: poison, barkskin (self only), knock, water breathing (self only), minor illusion, illusory script, and silence. [ Dungeons and Dragons 5E spells were used for these spells. ]
Doris is immune to Sugar’s venom and is resistant to a vast majority of poisons/venoms due to their familiar contract. Outside of the Faewylds, Doris is one of the few people who can make an antidote to Sugar’s poison.
The reason the door to her home is always unlocked it due to the powerful charms she has placed all over the building. Those meaning her or those inside harm cannot enter without her consent. This consent can be revoked at anytime and forces the person to be shunted outside. She can also deny access to those that don’t mean harm if she so chooses.
She smells like ginger ale, honey, sunlight, and fresh cut herbs. The herb part is due to how much she works with her plants. The honey, ginger ale, and sunlight come from her magic/mana. All magic has a scent to it that changes depending on the user or origin. Since magic naturally clings to Doris and her skin (thanks to both her blessings and her being a natural magic sponge) it causes her to smell very pleasant.
If she is overwhelmed emotionally she will laugh or giggle. Doris is very embarrassed by this as it makes her look rude, insincere, or even emotional unstable at times.
Since Doris struggles to sleep soundly at night, she is more a multiple naps kinda of person then a full 8 hours of rest.
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Text
Thranduil and Josie Part 70- Seven
Summary: 7 days till Halloween. Welcome Lestat de Lioncourt. Josie gets quite the greeting from the arcane vampire as she arrives with Garrett and Selene at his mountain top lair. Garrett and Josie have an informative conversation that he is soon unwilling to continue. Lestat displays his musical talents, then makes his status clear to his guests. Josie and her King share a tear jerking reunion until yandere Thranduil learns disturbing news that strikes his Elvenking chord. Another long awaited reunion takes place that doesn't go the way Josie dreamed it would. Caroline and the King turn on each other with possible foreshadowing threats. Josie safeguards her twin flame. Hell hath no fury like a vampiress scorned. The King and Queen make up for lost time. Can anyone say SMUT?"
*Angst. Smut.*
*Note: SO much info to cover in the upcoming chapters in which the Halloween masquerade ball will most likely not be posted on October 31 even though it will take place on that date.
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Something about the arctic arms around you as Garrett soared through the frigid night sky soothed your gelid body. It was like the effects of intoxication making you swelter inside. The full luminous moon was so close, you swore you could reach out and touch it. You turned your face to the wind and unpinned your hair letting it flow freely as you as he cradled you against him. He was like superman but with fangs and morals and morals were quite bizarre for a vampire to possess. This was pure magic.
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You could easily distinguish his cool breath from the wind as he spoke into your hair that rippled over his face. "Did you really mean what you said about me back there?"
You kept your head in place as you watched his aura gleam around you, or maybe it was your shield seeping out of you in a defense mechanism. Whatever it was...it was absolutely hypnotic. "Of course I did. You are only misunderstood and stereotyped as a monster. A true monster would have left me there."
He paused for a moment. He didn't know how to respond to real conversations as he never had them. "What can I say. I'm a sucker for the ladies. I am a different monster than I was a few months ago. I like these new fangs much better..." You were slowly learning that his witty metaphoric remarks were his defense mechanism of letting anyone get too close.. "You saved me so I saved you. Nothing more."
"But it is more. You also came for me when you could have just let Selene do it." You angled your face to his, now nose to nose. "Why?"
Garrett's now soft blue eyes studied your face and cool breath tickled your lips as he spoke. "You know why....I...I just told you." He then turned his face away. "We are here. Hold on tight." Your stomach dropped from his rapid decline causing you to bury your face in his bitterly cold neck.
He was deflecting as this kind of closeness was nothing familiar to him so his own shield went up. Garrett knew you would soon be in the arms of your true King and never in his aside from this moment.
He gently and gracefully landed on the grounds of Chateau de Lioncourt and steadied you on your feet before releasing you. Your ears were popping from the change in altitude. The irradiated gothic fortress towered above the black rhun. It's crown touched the shadowy ominous clouds that gyrated through the night sky allowing the scintillating moonlight to sneak through the cottony crevices. Another nightmare dressed like a daydream.
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Your hair felt awry so you quickly pinned it back up as Selene floated down beside you both. The fast thumping in your chest was achingly loud to Garrett's sensitive ears as his eyes wandered over your breast bone in envy of his lifeless heart. Suddenly, a harsh turbulence of cold air flushed over you thwacking you to the ground as Garrett and Selene moved back.
"Boo." is all you heard which caused you to stop breathing for a moment. You slowly turned with uneasiness to the sound of the unfamiliar man's intimidating voice.
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Your eyes crawled up his black leather boots to see his hand extended out to help you up. Your hand reached back of it's own will and took the pale stranger's frosty hand.
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He then circled you like a vulture, gawking at you with hungry dark eyes. Your eyes jumped to Garrett in fear who stayed right there like he promised he would. The submitting looks on his and Selene's face told you that you were now in the presence of the vampire Lestat.
"I am the vampire Lestat. I'm immortal more or less. The light of the sun, the heat of an intense fire, these things might destroy me, but then again, they might not. So you are the mortal daughter of Caroline that I have been anticipating. Josie. The resemblance is......uncanny. Such striking beauty." He then slowly backed you against the castle's stone wall. "You're...shaking." he eerily said as his eyes devoured you.
"I...I'm...cold." you stammered while unable to remove your eyes from his.
He half grinned and pushed against you. "Still cold?"
"N..n...no." He was so assertive. You swore you were were going to relieve yourself right there as you finally broke your eyes free long enough to glimpse at Garrett in uncertainty. Garrett's eyes were crimson red which you still weren't sure what that hue meant yet, but in this moment as he had them locked on yours, you deciphered it to be a guarded mode. His body language verified that.
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"Tell me, why is a bewitching creature such as yourself braving such dangers? And in such a....delicate condition." Lestat reveled as he traced his fingertips over your stomach. "You're a long way from home Josephine."
You sucked in a frightened gasp at his touch. "I..I just want...to see my..m..mother and...my husband...please..."
Lestat completely ignored your words and took ahold of your hand. He brought it up behind you to a broken window pane and pierced your thumb on one of the shards.
You let out a groan as blood oozed from the puncture. Lestat then placed your thumb in his mouth and seductively sucked your warm blood from it as he twirled his icy slick tongue round and round, leaving a crisp rime behind from the polar like air when he pulled it out.
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"Please.....don't..." you squeaked. "Just let me see my mother and Thranduil." Something about you seemed to disenchant him.
"Don't worry Josie. Your kind never satisfies my thirst."
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He went to leave. "W...w...wwwait!" you screeched.
He halted and turned, staring at you with impatient eyes. He certainly did not care for your groveling. A wicked sneer formed on his lips. "I will see you inside after you pull yourself together." He then charged into the air in your direction. All you could do was dive to the wet hard ground.
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Garrett rushed to you and picked you up. "Are you alright?"
You caught your breath and stood up. "Yes....but what the fuck is his problem! God!" you reeled as you aggressively brushed yourself off and winced in pain as you grazed your sexually assaulted thumb on the rough wool cloak.
"I warned you of his temperament. He does not like his solitude disrupted, especially by that of humans. He has at least invited you in and will most likely steer clear of you for the most part of your stay. I know he fancies your mother so maybe he will come around in time but do not count on it."
"Yeah well I'm not so fond of him either! Why the hell did he taste my blood? or I should say take..."
"For the same reason I tasted yours that night in the Lothlorien realm. I needed to know why I was so drawn to you. Lestat is clearly drawn to you as well. His reaction tells me he actually enjoyed the taste of your blood and it has confused him....as I should know, it tastes like no other..." He instantly realized how creepy that sounded so he tried to lighten the mood. "And you called me theatrical?" Garrett chuckled.
"That's because you are." you smiled and laughed. "But I like it..."
Garrett was taken aback by that and immediately deflected again with his humor. "Come now, you know I'm just a pain in your neck." he grinned. "Come on...I will show you inside and help you get situated." Garrett then turned to Selene. "Sorry love, looks like you're sleeping with the wolves tonight." Selene used to have a thing for a Lycan named Michael so Garrett enjoyed taking jabs at her about him. Vampires loathe and even fear the stinking hairy werewolves. But Selene loved Michael. Really loved him as he did her. Then he just disappeared one night. "Lestat will never allow you inside considering he knows of your prior agenda. Good luck digging yourself out of that one."
Selene snarled at Garrett and bolted off. You walked with him for a few moments in silence then asked him something you were curious to know. "Why are you and Selene at such odds with each other?"
His head dropped with a smile as he rubbed his hand down his face and stared at you.
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"I wondered when this would come up. As you know, vampires have many enemies but one in particular we detest even more than the pretty elves. Lycans."
"Lycans?" you asked as you had never heard of the word.
"Werewolves. A very strong vengeful breed that progresses with age. An enemy vampires actually fear as their speed, strength, agility and such are much like ours and these qualities still exist while in human form. Selene met one named Michael Corvin and she fell in love with him. Needless to say, Craven was less than pleased."
For a moment you wondered if Narcisse was referring to these types when he mentioned wolves and it made you shiver. "Is that what those wargs are that Selene mentioned when she smelled them?" Now you were thinking of Haldir and Legolas, praying to god they were alright.
"Much bigger.. Although wargs are extremely dangerous and large, lycans surpass that times a thousand."
"So.....when you said Corvin...is that like in the Corvinus castle? Where Viktor ruled?"
"That would be the one. Viktor was one of three grand elders that included Marcus Cornivus and Amelia. The most powerful of their kind and rulers of the entire vampire population, although Viktor was deemed the most powerful. All are dead now. Viktor was the last and we have been without a ruler for just over a decade now since your mother killed him. Anyways, Michael was a carrier of the corvinus strain passed down by Alexander Cornivus' mortal son. To make a long irrelevant story short, he was bitten by a lycan, then later by Selene in an attempt to save his life, thus making him a hybrid in which Viktor called an abomination. He recruited Craven and myself to kill him and forced Selene to keep her place with Craven where he felt she belonged. Hence their rocky relationship. I was a newborn at that time so I followed orders. I will never understand why Viktor wanted to recruit my as a death dealer. Possibly the line of work I was in which sometimes makes me wonder if that's why Craven turned me. I certainly never wanted to be a vampire let alone a hit man for them. I was with Craven the night Michael disappeared after Craven appeared to have mortally wounded him and as you can see, Selene blames me as she did him. My loyalty at that time lied with Craven and the rules of my new existence, which it also included the hatred of the atrocious beasts. So I in turn became at odds with her for her betrayal to our kind. And...here we are 2 decades later...."
"Wow...that's quite a story. In her defense....we can't help who we love." You said as you thought of your King.
Garrett slightly peeked at you. "No.....we cannot." he softly agreed as he thought of you and then became quiet and continued walking.
You broke the awkward silence. "So...wait a minute. A newborn? 2 decades later? that's 20 years ago....oh my god. That's when everything happened with my mother...."
"Yep...22 to be exact when I was....reborn per se."
You came to an abrupt stop with an flabbergasted look on your face as you peered up at him. "I mean...I knew you didn't speak as if you were from another time but...my god...I guess I just thought you were much older....in vampire years I mean, not that you look old in any way because you most certainly do not....Jesus, I was only 2 when you were changed....this is surreal." You let out an astonished sigh and began walking again. "So....how old are you? I mean...your true age as a human?"
Garrett snickered. "A vampire, like a lady, never reveals his true age."
You stopped and looked him dead in the eye. "I'm 24."
He gave you a snide yet playful look. "I already knew that and....nice try little one."
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He then carried on walking. "The front door is right there. Time to go in." He completely shut you down and you didn't want to press him. He did not seem inclined, eager or even prepared to speak about his life. You were lucky to get what you got out of him. So you let it go....for now. But this certainly intrigued you as you could tell, there was quite a tale to this mystery man and you wanted to know everything about him, such as the letter R that was tattooed on his hand that you noticed for the first time tonight.
As you approached the door, you heard the most eargasmic sound of a violin. You promptly thought of Thranduil when he played for you in Rivendell and sprinted through the door expecting to see him. Your heart sank in disappointment when you saw who it was. Lestat.
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He sensed your presence and stopped, then looked at you in a beguile way. "Would you like me to play for you?"
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His gaze held your eyes in a captive trance. You nodded. He then continued to stroke the instrument in such an alluring way. Slow, then vigorously. You swore smoke was going to soon come out of the strings.
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When he finished, his eyes rolled up to yours in a displeased manner. "You were expecting....another. I believe what you desire is just down the hall." Lestat's eyes drifted to a doorway on the opposite side of the room.
Your eyes bolted in the direction his went, then back to his. "Please. I mean no disrespect. Your playing....it's mesmerizing. Such talent you possess. I just...."
"Go...." he flatly said quite dauntingly.
You gulped and turned to Garrett. His eyes were heavy with sadness as he nodded to you. "It's alright. This is why you have came. I will remain here for the time being but I am sure my presence will not be welcomed by the King."
"He is no King in my castle and does not hold power to my preferences of guests, nor any power here at all." Lestat rebuked as a reminder that this was his territory and no one else's. "He is merely permitted here because Caroline has vouched for him. Garrett, I am aware of your importance to both Josephine and her mother as well. You may stay as long as you like, the girl as well. I assure you no harm will fall upon you under my watch by a simple elf, for you are of my people and have caused me no grievances." He then jerked his eyes to you. "As for you, mortal one. Did I not order you to go about your business here?"
His tone carried disgust. Was he pissed at your reaction to his performance? He confused...and scared the shit out of you. You gasped with wide eyes, nodded and quickly scurried off down the hallway.
You ran blindly through the unfamiliar torchlit stone halls in search for your King until you smelled his exhilarating fragrance along with a vinous scent.
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You halted at the door the aroma seeped through and deeply breathed him in with closed eyes and smiled. Slowly pushing the door open, there he sat in all his glorious beauty sipping on wine in front of a soft blazing fireplace.
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You didn't even have to speak as he immediately sensed you and steadily stood in incredulity at the sight of you.
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The sound of his voice releasing your name from his lips sent you sprinting into his arms. "My love!" you cried in a whisper as your arms locked around his neck. A strong gasp escaped his mouth as he embraced you desperately, then he lifted your feet from the ground, spinning you madly in circles that forced giggles out of you. And like music to your ears, he laughed. A very rare sound indeed that the Elvenking ever let slip through his breath unless it was of a taunting nature inflicted upon an enemy or if he was just flat out pissed off. But this laugh was of sheer joy which only you could pull out of him naturally.
"You are here?? How!?" he beamed with a look of utter shock and excitement combined about his glowing face.
"Gúl." (Magic) you smiled as you took his face in your hands and placed your aching lips over his. A growling moan delved out of him as he parted his lips and took your mouth in fully. There was no mistaking exactly how elated he was to have you in his arms by the feel of his arousal pressing against your protruded stomach. When he felt it, he moved back quickly and stared at your now visible baby belly.
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It had been so long since he had seen you or been intimate with you that it made the change seem quite drastic for him. The King's mouth hung slightly open in disbelief as he slowly brought his hand to lay upon your stomach. You removed your cloaks so he could see you better. His eyes teared up as he brought his other hand to your belly. It was in this exact juncture that the reality of Leean smacked him right in the face and left him speechless. But what happened next rocked both your worlds. She kicked for the first time.
Simultaneously, you both gasped and looked at each other with sizeable eyes as your mouths formed broad smiles. You began to cry. "She feels you. She knows her daddy is here. Leann waited for us to be together to share in this moment. I can feel it." You could tell he had never experienced anything like this as you were certain Morwen never allowed him to touch her while she carried Legolas.
A tear trickled down his cheek as he cradled your face in his hands. "Nin lend gwen. Im mel cin so limb." (My sweet girl, I love you so much.) Have you...can you...ever forgive me for what I have done..." His vulnerable stance sliced your heart right down the center and his child-like tear filled eyes completely demolished it.  
You kissed him tenderly and then whispered softly against his mouth. "How could I not? You have risked everything to come here for me." He rubbed the back of his hand down your cheek so slowly as his tear enhanced florescent blue moons danced all around in your eyes. You closed your eyes tightly and sighed, knowing this beautiful moment was about to be short lived.
"My love. I...I need to tell you something. It is I who seeks your forgiveness as well."
You watched his happiness fade before your eyes. "I assume you are referring to...Garrett?" he said with a repulsed tone as his hand dropped from your cheek.
"Y..Yes...I....there is more...I don't even know how to...may I just show you?" His brow slightly lifted and he gave a single nod. You took his hand into yours and closed your eyes. Everything from the moment that Thranduil left the Kingdom up till now, you emitted to his mind. Once the transfer was complete, he yanked his hand free from yours. His shocked eyes morphed into rage. Goosebumps formed all over your skin from his expected reaction.
"Treacherui!!" he hissed and glared at you. Your face scrunched up as a whimpered squeak leaped from your lips in fear. He swiftly appeared, towering over you with eyes of daggers as the Elvenking reared his ugly head. "My Queen has not only healed and freed one revolting leech, but TWO! How dare you disobey and disrespect me!"
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You cowered under his forceful breath as your legs turned to jelly, causing you to drop to your knees which he did not intend to happen. Through all of his rage, he would die before he ever hurt you. There was far too much evil energy around him and that would certainly cause negative effects on any elf of light.
"Thranduil!!!!" A familiar woman's irate voice scolded from behind him. He stared at her with offended eyes and pursed lips as his neck stiffened straight up. The Elvenking wanted to free her head from her wretched body right there. Although she was your mother, a putrid vampire she most certainly was in his eyes. He hurt inside for what she had done to you and aside from the fact she was a cold blooded killer, there was something else sour about her that raised the hairs on his neck in which he couldn't quite put his finger on....yet. One thing he did know. He would protect you to his death..... Of course he knew he was no saint after his rabid display just now, among many other times, that caused you to look at him like he were the monster. The one thing he first told you when he met you was not to fear him. He was now disgusted with himself as he peered down at you in atonement of his impulsive outburst.
Your eyes rolled up the woman's elegantly dressed body that stood ferociously in the doorway. "M...m...mama?" you chirped like a baby bird. She looked just as you remembered her, except for all the glamour and glowing eyes. She was born in the late 60's and although you were only 4 when she supposably died, you could remember her attire. A plain Jane per se, just like you always dressed. A Celtic gypsy is what you called her when you were older. Aka an Irish traveler which now made sense, somewhat anyways, as to the many different places you lived with her and your father before they split up.
"Seosaimhín. My little Jo. How I have yearned to be with my darling girl once again." she sweetly spoke in her strong Irish accent as her black eyes changed into a glow of white starlight.
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She extended her hand down to you and you lifted yours up but just before your hands could unite, something happened beyond your control.
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A fiery force field of some sort engulfed between your hand and hers that would not permit you to touch her. She withdrew her hand and smiled with wonderous eyes. "I...I knew it. It is true. The prognostic signs of who you truly are." Her once emerald green eyes like yours were now dark again.
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"I....mama..I do not understand." You remained on the floor because for some unknown reason, you feared her, in which you chalked that up to be the fact she was a vampire, if not more. Not to mention, you didn't really know her anymore as you believed she had been dead for 20 years....and technically, she was. And...why couldn't you touch her? Either way...the woman before you...was not your mother.
"Your powers my dear. Although I have witnessed only a mere glimpse of it just now, I have known since the day you were born that you were...unique... as per the little telltale signs here and there. A kind all of your own. But I could never know it until you came of age on your 17th birthday. I watched you from afar over the years but I could not come to close. I had to keep your identity concealed to protect you from that slithering Selene, whom by the way, I know is here. I can smell her lurking in the shadows outside. I will handle that problem once and for all in due time. No one threatens my children and lives. It's as simple as that as some have found out and more will."
You assumed she was referring to killing Viktor after he killed Clover, but he is only one and not "some". Selene that she wants dead for hunting you, would be the "more" that will you guessed. "Mama please...I do not understand any of this."
"My darling Jo....the power you withhold is far greater than any other, even myself. You just have not embraced your full capabilities yet as you are unaware of them. The light in you comes from me, not just your magical King. His powers awoken yours. But the light has always been inside you, burning, waiting to be ignited into pure fire." That instantly made you think of when Haldir called you Lady of Light for the first time just by looking at you. He saw it inside you as his own powers of sensing good and evil permitted him to. And somehow....Narcisse saw it too. "You are a fire sign. As am I. Both of us born on the 7th. I am the 7th daughter of a 7th daughter. You my child....are a full blown white witch....The fire just now between our palms. That only happens between witches. I saw the marks on yours just now. I have some also. Turn your hand over and look. You have all of them because of your bloodline. Healing, intuition, clairvoyance...and so much more that has not come to fruition yet. Although, these marks are not limited to the palms. Some witches have birthmarks or moles in certain shapes. On your lower back, you have 3 small moles that resemble the triple moon for the goddess. That was the first sign shown to me when you were born. And let us not forget our red hair...." She lost most of your attention back when she said that it only happens between witches, the fire connection. It caused your mind to travel back to Stephane again as that happened between you and him when your hands touched, although it was not fire, but more of electricity. A magnetic pull as well. And his butterfly birthmark on his wrist....my god...could he be a witch too? It might certainly explain his reaction of when he first met you, as if he knew who you were...and then there was the fact he seemed to know things about you too...
You had no words as your mind was scrambled with all her information and your own wandering thoughts. She was correct about the moles but you never thought anything of them. Of course, why would you? Upon turning your hand over, she looked closely over your shoulder and pointed out each one with an explanation.
"That one there, the three vertical lines under each of your pinky fingers is the healer's mark. And there, the mystical cross on the middle of your palm and middle of your index finger is your clairvoyance or psychic abilities. Your other palm holds the psychic triangle for strong intuition. And....there...just under your index fingers, the curved line is your empathic abilities." You certainly knew that part of you was the truth and of course your prophetic dreams and healing power. The intuition part of you was working on you at that moment as you strongly felt she was not telling you everything. How could you ask her about the dream you had of your father burning from the inside out and hearing her voice tell him it had to be that way? She just told you about her being a fire sign so now you were even more skeptical of her possibly having something to do with his death in which you were led to believe was cancer. He suffered so many years though, so how could this even be possible? and why? Why would she kill him? The one thing you did remember is he always complained of burning pain.....If she was responsible, she certainly was not going to admit it so you would have to find out on your own somehow. Could this be the reason you felt fear around her? She claims to be of light, but that would not deem true if she indeed murdered him. You supposed she could have been of light once, but the vampire side of her could have taken her to the dark side. She most definitely did not feel of light. The little fire display just now felt more like it was your shield trying to protect you.
Thranduil had been watching you diligently the entire time and you realized he had heard all your thoughts judging by the look of assertion on his face. Did he agree with you about her? All this time you wanted to see her so badly and now you just wanted to be alone with your husband. You felt no connection to her at all and that hit you hard considering she was still your mother. If she in fact caused your father's demise, that would put the nail in her coffin as she would be nothing to you. And...if she was capable of such a horrific act, then what else has she done. Being a vampire was no excuse as they were not all of evil. Garrett was living proof of that. What was it that he said? Evil is a point of view. Your point of view was screaming that she wreaked of it.
The King lowered his hand down to you. "My love...please come up from the ground. I greatly apologize for my harsh behavior for it was inexcusable." His eyes were filled with torment of frightening you in such a way. You took his hand and he gently pulled you up. He then turned to Caroline. "My wife has endured enough this night and needs her rest. I feel it best if you speak with her at a later time." His tone and the way he now looked upon her validated to you that he believed her to be of darkness like you did.
"You do not speak for my daughter nor give me orders. I would tread carefully Elvenking. I once believed you to be her destiny but what I witnessed here tonight makes me question your worthiness of her."
Oh god...the swelling of his pupils meant nothing good. "Yes... you should tread carefully archfiend. I have made a great deal of mistakes but I assure you this. My love for her is very real and I will protect her at all costs, even if that is from you. I smell nothing but wickedness in your breath."
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Wickedness is exactly what her smile turned into. "That cost can soon be upon you elfling. Don't say I didn't warn you sprite." With that, she flung her hand up and Thranduil was cast against the wall.
"NO!" you shrieked as your own hand flew up and sent out a bolt of lightening that struck her hand, instantly severing her hold on your King.
She cried out in pain as she held her smoking hand. The stench of burnt skin tainted the room. Her tear filled eyes glided to yours in disbelief. "My baby....why???"
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"I...I...I'm sorry mama! I...I didn't mean...I...you were hurting him." You did mean it though, you just didn't expect it. Your instincts and love for Thranduil over powered your ability to reason. As if there would ever be any reasoning when it came to protecting the one thing you loved more than anything in this world, even more than her. There was a mixture of sheer awe, astonishment and love all over Thranduil's face as your 5'7 delicate frame guarded his 6'5 robust build.
Caroline was most definitely scorned by your retribution. "Well...tomorrow is a new day. We shall speak come morning then...." she said with a bitter tone as she death glared at the King and abruptly left. That look sent an indescribable feeling to your very core.
You released the breath you were holding in as soon as the door closed behind her and Thranduil spun you around and gathered you into his arms, holding you firmly against him. "My Queen, I beg of you to forgive my misplaced anger. I would never harm you. Please...please tell me you believe that."
"Of course I believe that. Your anger is not misplaced. You have every right to be furious with me but I did what I had to do to get to you and I will not apologize for that. I'm starting to wonder if it would have been better to have kept her existence from me as I feel I have opened up what some would refer to as pandora's box. Thranduil.....she scares me...." you whimpered.
He pulled your face against his chest and you could hear and feel his heart racing. "Shhhh my love. I will never let her harm you. Cross my heart and hope to die."
"Stop it! Don't ever say..."
He cut you off with a deep passionate kiss that you melted right into with a defeated moan. Your fingers slithered up through his hair as he pulled your hips against his. A deep yearning groan flowed from his throat and tickled the inside of your mouth. "Thranduil....I...please...please take me. I must have you right now." Your words sent a wave of very visible pleasure over his face. He slowly walked to the door and locked it, then turned and removed his robe, dropping it to the ground as he seductively walked towards you. Your body trembled as if it were your first time with him all over again. Not to mention you were going to make love to your elven husband in a vampire fortress.
Thranduil stood shirtless just inches away from you, leering down into your eyes with his inflamed pupils sucking your reflection right inside of them. His rigid cock pressed against your belly with a twitch as it made contact. He then proceeded to nudge you backwards towards the bed with his arms hanging at his sides. Your eyes remained tranced in his as your feet slightly stumbled through each step you took in stride with his. Suddenly the back of your legs were resting against the bed.
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The full moon illuminated the room through the prodigious bay window. He gracefully removed his boots and tossed them to the side without breaking eye contact with you. Your arousal was becoming overbearing as your core sent tremors through your walls. A nefarious grin sprouted on his lips at the scent of your enlivenment. His fingertips softly grazed up your arms and came to a rest behind your neck. You felt your zipper slowly come undone. When his fingers arrived at the small of your back, his hands then rose up to your shoulders and without warning, he yanked the sleeves down your arms causing a staggering gasp to leap out of your mouth. Your breathing was turning deep with desire as your dress then slipped straight to your bare feet. The back of his hand caressed your cheek then traveled slowly down your neck, then chest and through the middle of your breasts and halted when it came to your belly. "Thranduil? what is wrong?" you asked as he suddenly had a worried look about him.
"I...will...is this....going to be alright to do?" He fumbled for the right words in asking if this would hurt you or the baby. He hadn't a clue or any experience in this area...nor did you.
"I truly do not believe it will be of any harm and right now, my body agrees. Please...don't stop."
Your pleading words of don't stop made him hoist you up onto his hips and you released a squeal as your legs quickly locked around his waist. He gently leaned you back onto the bed and hovered over you with animal like eyes. You pulled him down into a tongue twisting kiss, then pushed him over and mounted him. The look upon his face was priceless at your dominance and it drove him wild.
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You lifted your body enough to slide his pants down to his feet and then he kicked them off vigorously. As you sat back upon him, he entwined his fingers into yours. "More than nin own cuil." (More than my own life) he whispered.
You smiled and traced small kisses from his belly button up to his chest. Arriving at is neck, you breathed in his floral scent as if you were never going to smell it again. He whipped you over onto your back with a victorious chuckle. He then returned the gesture and kissed you from your belly up to your breasts, taking one into his hand to massage, and the other into his mouth to suckle. Moving on, his tongue trailed over your collar bone and up your neck to your ear in which he whispered his hot sweet breath into it. "Are you ready my love. I do not want to hurt you."
Your soaked clit reveled in readiness. "Yes my King."
He adjusted the head of his throbbing cock over your slickened entrance and slowly pushed into you. You sucked in an exhilarating gasp as your drenched walls took in his fullness in one thrust. His groan was enticingly deep as he began shallow teasing pumps. It seemed as if he were scared for you to take all of him in as he was definitely blessed with great length. You made him stop and look at you. "My love...it is alright. I assure you I feel nothing but pure pleasure. Give me all of you."
With that, he slid his fingers through yours and gently pushed himself all the way into you.
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He slowly rolled his hips against yours. You knew he was not going to be aggressive no matter how much you begged and you were completely fine with that. His tender motions honestly drove you more insane than his ravaging ones. And with that thought, you were taken over the edge in a euphoric release. Your entire body arched up and shook as you cried out his name. Your contractions slammed over his cock aggressively and caused his simultaneous climax. He grunted your name against your lips as he spilled into you. You began to rock your hips up against his with a strong urgency for more. There was no hesitation from him whatsoever as he was far from done. Neither were you. You were now extremely slick from both of your releases and he slid in and out of you with great ease at a faster pace, but he still remained gentle in doing so. Your moans became in sync with his and he found himself thrusting hard and deep without even realizing it. His breaths became erratic and his body then convulsed into another epic orgasm. His pulsations were vigorous as were his verbal cries. A shockwave was sent through your core as you came undone. Squeal after squeal shot out of your mouth in rhythm with your palpitating walls. Your arms gripped him tight against you as you drove your hips up harder into him in a desire for more. And more he gave you with no reluctance from him in the least. His cock was at a superlative hardness filling your walls to it's maximum allowance. A bouncing like thrust began matching each of his heavy breaths until he was releasing in soft fast jolts against you. Your nails dug into and down his back causing him to cry out your name as you intensely unhinged in repetition with him. His body fell flat in exhaustion as his mouth hovered open over yours. You kissed him deeply and then lightly sobbed. "I...I love you so much."
He lovingly smiled and traced his forefinger softly over your upper lip. "Not near as much as I love thee my sweet girl."
Thranduil rolled off of you and brought you immediately into his arms. You laid your head upon his chest and drifted off to sleep to the sound of his singing heart while your dreamcatcher laid in your cloak pocket across the room.....
@redeemer46 @mirkwoodwarrior
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grailfinders · 2 years
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Fate and Phantasms #284: Artoria (Caster)
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Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re finally heading back to D&D 5e for all of… one build. You know her, you love her, she just made a CEO at Lasengle richer than the entire country of Greece, it’s Artoria (Caster)!
Now admittedly I’m still not 100% sure what Castoria does in Lostbelt 6, but neither did DW when they made her kit-if anything, this build’s extra authentic. Besides, she’s an Evocation Wizard, so you’ll have a billion and one chances to pick up whatever spells you want anyway. We’ll also pick up a blade from a Dao as a Warlock, just in case you feel like making a legendary sword the old-fashioned way.
Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!
Next up: That’s not what we meant when we called the horny police on Kiara.
(Also worth noting, Artoria does have a big role in the sixth lostbelt, so expect spoilers for said chapter ahead!)
Race and Background
So… this Artoria is weird. She’s kind of a faerie, kind of not a faerie, but either way she doesn’t even do faerie stuff, so we’ll play it safe and make her Custom Lineage instead for +2 Intelligence, a smaller size, and darkvision over a skill proficiency. That’s not to say you’re not Skilled though- you’ve spent plenty of time working on your thievery skills, like Thieves’ Tools, Stealth, and Deception. You’re also a Folk Hero for a… generous definition of “hero”, giving you proficiency with Animal Handling and Survival. You lived in a barn, that kinda thing’s gonna happen.
Ability Scores
Your number one score is Intelligence- your magic and your skills were both honed through study. After that is Charisma. You made contact with faeries and didn’t get murdered day one, that’s a successful persuasion check in my book. I doubt that’s for a lack of trying though, so your Constitution is above average too. You also don’t wear too much armor though, so let’s keep your Dexterity above a ten too. This means your Wisdom isn’t as high as it could be, but we’re dumping Strength. She’s a caster for a reason.
Class Levels
1. Wizard 1: Starting as a wizard is neat- you get proficiency in Intelligence and Wisdom saves as well as two wizard skills like Arcana and Insight. Your magic may be weak by faerie standards, but you’re still a game-breaking caster. Also, people who can’t tell when faeries are lying aren’t going to last long in Britain unless they’re the main character.
You can cast Spells using your Intelligence and your spellbook, which holds a buttload of magic that you prepare from. Obviously we’re just going to mention the important ones here, but you get six at level one and two each level after that, plus any spells you pick up along the way.
That’s a lot of magic, but you can use even more of it thanks to your Arcane Recovery, letting you recharge some spell slots once per day on a short rest.
As far as spells go, we’re picking up the standard Mage Armor and Magic Missile to not die and make some caster balls, respectively. We’ll also get some sleeping pills with the Sleep spell. We’ll also start on your path to making weapons and defenses with Shield and Ice Knife. Humble beginnings.
… feels kind of weird finishing a first level synopsis in a reasonable amount of time.
2. Wizard 2: Anyways. At second level you study the School of Evocation, making you an Evocation Savant, so you spend less money and time copying evocation spells. You can also Sculpt Spells, so you can allow a number of creatures to automatically pass their saves when you cast an evocation spell. This also means they take no damage instead of half, if applicable. I mean I don’t think there’s many faeries you’d want to save, but maybe you’ll meet a nice human one of these days.
3. Wizard 3: At third level you get second level spells! If your lockpicks fail to open a door, Knock can probably get it open, albeit with a lot of noise. You can also build an actual weapon now with Shadow Blade, creating a simple melee weapon that deals psychic damage and gives you advantage in dim light or darkness. Annoyingly it doesn’t use your spellcasting ability like Flame Blade, but still, a sword’s a sword.
We’ll also get Magic Weapon next level, but if you want to help reforge your friends’ swords you can grab it now, nobody’s gonna stop you.
4. Wizard 4: Fourth level wizards get their first Ability Score Improvement, so we can finally round up your Intelligence and Constitution. Odd numbers are bad, m’kay?
5. Wizard 5: At fifth level you get access to third level spells like Fireball for some bombs and Wall of Sand, the best wall you can get to date. It… doesn’t actually stop anyone, but it blocks sight and makes anyone moving through it super slow, so it’s good for a low-level spell.
6. Wizard 6: At sixth level you have Potent Cantrips, so your save-based cantrips still deal half damage if their target succeeds their save. I think the only cantrip we have that’s actually affected by that is Thunderclap. Ah well, at least it’s better.
7. Wizard 7: At seventh level you get fourth level spells like Fabricate to make your own swords for real and Greater Invisibility. It’s not quite defense, but if it keeps your enemies from hitting you I’ll count it. It’ll be a while ‘til we get a decent shield anyway.
8. Wizard 8: At eighth level you get another ASI, so bump up your Charisma. That’s about to get a lot more important.
9. Warlock 1: It gets more important with your first level in warlock. I know Merlin being your mentor is kind of a thing, but I want the spells from the Dao Genie list and Merlin grants wishes sometimes so now he’s a genie. Besides, you’re clearly not getting your power from the Archfey this time around, she hates you. You get a Genie’s Vessel, which isn’t super in-character but we’ll take it. You can use it as a Bottled Respite, letting you hide inside it for a couple hours per day, and it also gives you access to the Genie’s Wrath, adding some bludgeoning damage to one of your attacks each turn. Yeah your swords are a little dull, you’ve just started making them that’ll happen.
For spells, grab Blade Ward for another kind of protection if your shield fails, Green-Flame Blade for extra-spicy forging, Charm Person to survive in Faerie Britain, and Sanctuary for some extra protection against the faeries. It forces any creature you tries to attack you or cast a harmful spell to make a wisdom save, and if they fail they have to change targets or waste that attack/spell. It only lasts a minute or until you make an attack though, so you’d better be careful with it.
10. Warlock 2: Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations to customize their hellish existence as England’s chosen one, so grab Eldritch Mind to keep your spells up for longer with advantage on concentration saves. We’ll replace your second invocation eventually, but for now pick whatever you’d like.
You can also Detect Evil and Good now, which despite the name actually lets you detect fey creatures.
I don’t know if you know this, but I think… just a hypothesis, but there might be some fey creatures in Fey Britain. I know, it’s shocking, right? At least they can’t sneak up on you now. For ten minutes per spell slot.
11. Wizard 9: Ninth level wizards get fifth level spells like Wall of Force. Now we’re getting somewhere! This wall is immune to damage, and can’t be dispelled, and it even blocks passage through the ethereal plane. The one downside is it only lasts 10 minutes, plus Disintegrate does what you’d think it’d do to the wall.
Also, you get Legend Lore. It’s hard being a child of prophecy if you don’t even know what the prophecy is. I mean it’s hard either way, but at least you’ll have some idea what you need to do.
12. Wizard 10: Tenth level evocation wizards have Empowered Evocation, letting you add your intelligence modifier to the damage of a spell for one target. Not really that wild compared to fifth level spells, but not every level can be a banger.
13. Wizard 11: Eleventh level wizards get the best defense possible with the sixth level spell Globe of Invulnerability. It makes a 10’ radius ball around you that can’t move, but it blocks the effects of all outside spells of level 5 or lower. This is a great option for protection, though it doesn’t affect objects, so arrows and people with legs can still get in. I mean people without legs can get in too it’s just- I’m going to stop talking now.
If you’d rather use the swords you’re making, Tasha’s Otherworldly Guise lets you use your Intelligence to stab people, plus you get a second attack each turn.
14. Wizard 12: Make your intelligence even better for the smartest dang Artoria you ever did see. It also boosts your spell power and maybe your sword power if you’re using that spell I literally just brought up.
15. Wizard 13: Thirteenth level wizards get seventh level spells.  Forcecage is a great option to block attackers as long as they’re large or smaller. You can make it have gaps to trap something that is gargantuan, though that leaves space open for it to attack. Not only does it block all matter and spells, it can even eat up teleportation spells, forcing a charisma save on anyone trying to use one to escape.
The one downside is it costs 1,500 gold to cast this spell, which is pretty steep for someone living in a barn.
A more economical option is creating Mordenkainen’s Sword for a minute at a cool 250 gold. It’s an action to cast, and as part of that action and as a bonus action each turn you can slap a creature near the sword for a lot of force damage.
16. Warlock 3: We finally head back to warlock to get the Pact of the Blade, letting us make a sword properly, one that will always stay with us. It’s Chastiefol, basically. Especially when you turn that second invocation into Improved Pact Weapon so you can cast spells through your sword and turn it into just about any melee weapon you want.
We’ll also pick up Shatter for some homemade pipe bombs. CIA, I am clearly talking about in D&D here, it’s something Castoria does, calm down.
17. Wizard 14: Fourteenth level wizards get our final feature, Overchannel. Once a day you can deal maximum damage with any wizard spell of 1st-5th level you cast. I mean you can do this more times per day too, but each time you take necrotic damage based on the level of the spell, starting at 2d12 per level and increasing by 1d12 each time you use it. I honestly don’t know why they bothered giving it a type since it ignores resistances anyway, but there you go. If you ever wanted to give your life to hit something really, really hard, now you can! I’m sure that’ll never come up in-story though, don’t worry.
18. Wizard 15: Fifteenth level wizards get eighth level spells, and if you’re tired of defensive spells that require your concentration check out Mighty Fortress. The casting time’s a lot, but it makes a real-ass fortress that lasts for seven days, or permanently if you keep casting it in the same spot.
19. Wizard 16: Use your last ASI to grab the Tough feat for 38 extra HP now, plus 2 more when you level up. Better make sure you don’t heroically sacrifice yourself before the third act, after all.
20. Wizard 17: Seventeenth level wizards get ninth level spells, and they’re just as overpowered as you’d think. Invulnerability is exactly what it sounds like: you are immune to all damage for 10 minutes, or until concentration drops. There’s like, one ability that makes a concentration check without dealing damage though, so it’s pretty much at will. If you’d rather go on the offensive with the holy sword, Blade of Disaster is your go-to. As a bonus action you make a big-ass sword and swing it, dealing tons of damage. You have triple the critical hit range, and it deals triple the damage on a crit too. You can keep using this sword each bonus action for up to a minute, and it passes through any barrier.
Pros and Cons
Pros:
Overchannel has a very interesting effect with spells that deal damage over time, like your spell Shadow Blade. It just makes that spell deal maximum damage, period. Not the first damage you deal, not to one creature, just. Big. Sword. With a fifth level spell slot, that’s 33 damage per turn, or 65 with a critical hit. For context, a level 20 barbarian deals an average of 18-19 damage per turn, with an average of 45 on a crit. This isn’t even the wildest option for overchannel either, just the one that’s most in-character. You can do crazy damage if you get creative.
On top of that, you’re great at preventing damage too, you can increase AC, reduce damage, make yourself impossible to hit, and even become immortal. Hell, you have a first level spell that lets you take their damage and push it somewhere else. You’re like Shuckle, if Shuckle could kill people. So like Shuckle.
Finally, you’re still a wizard, so you have tons of utility options and flexibility when it comes to your spell list. I think we mentioned like half the spells you can get, so you have tons of space to play with even before we bring up spell copying.
Cons:
Using Shadow Blade for big damage requires, y’know, swinging a sword. Your best attacking stat is a +1, you’re not hitting that often.
On a related note, your AC is fourteen, and your HP doesn’t go over 200. You really shouldn’t be on the frontline, even if you’re the best shield the party’s got. Also, casting spells from HP really stacks up quickly, so don't get too wild with the damage.
A lot of your best spells use Concentration, and even if your saves are good thanks to Eldritch Mind, you still only get one concentration spell at a time.
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boarchasers · 9 months
Text
Day 1
Prompt: Arcane or Beast
Haaki raised his crossbow, reached for a bolt, and stopped, the fletching brushing against his fingertips. He couldn't see Hjolrin turn to look at him, not without taking his eyes off the creature in the glade, but he felt it, the disapproval burning against the side of his face. He held up a palm. Years ago, in their childhood, Hjolrin taught him all the gestures of the secret language of the hunters. This one meant wait.
After a few seconds he felt Hjolrin relax, as he noticed the same detail as Haaki. Up until now there had been nothing unusual about the hunt. Beginning in Hjolrin's Riverwood camp, just like old times, they had let the dogs pick up the trail, then followed the tracks of a stag west through the forest, crawling along the trails of broken bracken and disturbed mud almost as far as Falkreath Hold, until they came upon a clearing in the pines. The stag stood proud in the late morning mist, but now that they saw it in the flesh, it became obvious that the mist wasn't the only haze in the air. An aura surrounded the stag and swirled in the space around, alive with--
'Magic,' muttered Haaki. He felt Hjolrin tense beside him with yet more annoyance, ready to chide him for scaring off their quarry, but the stag didn't bound off into the undergrowth. It didn't even seem to notice them. The beast stood completely still, not grazing the grass, not turning to look for danger, not even, now that Haaki really looked closely, breathing. It also completely failed to react as Splendid, who had been crouched beside Dog, decided that all this waiting around was getting boring and trotted out into the clearing to sniff the beast's legs.
A moment later, as if to confirm Haaki's suspicions, Hjolrin nudged him and pointed at the stag's chest. A wound, not from either of their arrows, scarred the hide, submerged in congealed blood. It should have been fatal. It had been fatal. Haaki lowered his bow.
'Necromancy.'
Hjolrin frowned at him again and, after raising his hand, balled it into a fist, which meant silence. He had a point. Whoever had decided to reanimate the stag must be nearby. Only when the creature abruptly stalked off in a straight line and disappeared from sight did Hjolrin relax.
'Been some necromancers around. Thought they got'mselves killed messing about in Bleak Hills.'
'Apparently not.' Haaki sighed and fastened the crossbow back onto his belt. 'Well, great. All this way for nothing. Do you think they might be heading to the cemetery?'
'Could be.'
'I bet they are.' He stood up, brushing the moss out of his hair. 'I'm going to stop them.'
'Take another hour to get there.'
A sharp whistle brought Splendid to heel, where she sat expectantly, apparently expecting a reward for her flagrant disobedience. When no treats were forthcoming from her master she tried Hjolrin instead. Haaki hitched his hunting gear more firmly into place.
'I didn't have anything else planned for today.'
'Said y'had to write a sermon.'
Haaki gave this reminder the blank stare he felt it deserved before asking,
'Can you look after the dogs for me? It's a long way to go for Dog, his legs aren't what they used to be.'
'Sure. Haaki?'
'Aye?'
'Careful.'
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Note
okay okay, I'll give FOUR mouf kisses for a fic on that thing of keyleth getting hurt?:,)
for you? anything <3
Keyleth is utterly bored. To her left, the ambassador from the neighboring kingdom talks her ear off about policies and shit. Since her father is away on business, it falls on Keyleth to handle these political dinners. Across the room, Vax watches her with a slight smirk on his face, knowing how much she hates this.
Keyleth wears her best fake smile as she takes a sip of her wine, a gift from their visitors, nodding along to a conversation she really doesn't understand in the slightest.
"Princess Keyleth," one of the nobles addresses her, "what are the king's thoughts on the treaty between Whitestone and Emon?"
Keyleth turns to them, "I'm not at liberty to speak for my father. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to talk to you about that when he returns tomorrow evening."
"And what are your thoughts on it, princess?"
"Well, I-I-" Keyleth is saved from answering, however, as her throat begins to close up. She gasps for air, one hand moving to her neck as though there's anything she can do about it. Her eyes dart to Vax and find him already moving towards her.
She knows that he'll be too late as she falls from her chair, eye fluttering closed.
As Vax sees Keyleth fall, his heart falls to the floor. He's not in time to catch her as she tumbles to the cold stone floor, but as he runs to his princess, he shouts at Jarret and one of the other guards, "Don't let anyone in or out of the castle! Someone get Pike!"
Vax doesn't even stop as he scoops Keyleth up in his arms, her head lolling against his shoulder. He shouts at another one of the guards to grab Keyleth's plate and goblet and follow him. Vax is well versed in poisons, they're easier to cure if you have the source.
Vax holds Keyleth tight as he sprints as fast as he can to the infirmary. He doesn't look down at Keyleth, the love of his life. He can't feel her breathing, all he has to do is sprint, that's all he has to do right now.
Vax kicks open the doors, "Pike!" He shouts. The gnome appears in an instant as he lays Keyleth down on the closest bed. "She collapsed during dinner, she's not breathing. I brought her food and drink, it has to be poison."
Pike nods seriously, her mouth pressed into a firm line as she summons golden balls of light as she scans over Keyleth. Vax stumbles back, out of her way. A shaking hand rises to his mouth as he forces tears back from his eyes. Keyleth is going to die and it's all his fault. He should have checked everyone in that room for contraband, he should have been watching more closely, he should have tested Keyleth's food and wine himself.
He watches as Pike commands the room of healers, those with arcane abilities scan over the food and wine for any traces of magic, warm compresses are pressed to Keyleth's face, a ball of golden light on Keyleth's chest is the only thing keeping her alive.
Vax doesn't know how long he stands there, but it seems as though he blinks and Pike is standing in front of him.
"We did all we could for her," Pike tells him softly. "We found a poison, it had to be really fucking strong to act that quickly so we're working on an antidote. We gave her something for the time being until we can put it together."
Vax swallows thickly, "Is she going to die?"
"We don't know," Pike admits. "She's stable right now. We don't know for how long."
Vax nods, pretending that he can breathe. "Okay. Can I sit with her?"
"Of course," Pike smiles at him.
As Vax sits down in the chair beside her bed, taking her hand in his. They don't have to hide it now, their relationship is public to everyone in the castle. There's no need to look over his shoulder as he kisses the back of her hand.
"I need you to hold on, Kiki," he tells her softly. Her skin is pale and clammy, the glowing ball of light still on her chest. "I can't lose you. This kingdom can't lose you and your father...you're all he has left. So please hold on."
His voice is over come with tears as he squeezes her hand.
The hours pass in a blur, and there's no change in Keyleth. Vax doesn't move from her side, not until Percy and Vex all but force him home, that he leaves. But only when he makes them promise to wake him up if anything changes, good or bad.
Vex takes him home, shoving him into his bed. Just like when they were kids, she sits in his bed with him until he falls asleep. He dreams of Keyleth, of course he does, he dreams of her in the sunshine and in the rain, smiling and dragging him into a dance. But most of all he dreams of her in his arms, her soft hair covering his arm, her breath soft against his chest. Her-
"Vax."
He jerks awake, finding Vex looking down at him. Her expression is even, though there's a slight glimmer in her eyes, telling him he's about to receive good news instead of bad.
"They made an antidote and just gave it to Keyleth. She's going to be okay."
A choked laugh bubbles out of Vax as he sits up, throwing his arms around his sister. Vex hugs him back for a moment, "She's going to wake up soon, I'm guessing you want to be there when she wakes?"
Vax nods and the two of the leave the barracks. Thankfully, Vax realizes as they step outside, that it's just getting to be morning, meaning the king hasn't returned yet.
The infirmary is almost empty, it's just Pike and Percy as Vax enters. Wordlessly, Vax sits down on the side opposite the two of them. As he looks at Keyleth, he can see that there's color in her skin again, her chest is rising and falling without an aid.
It takes a while, maybe an hour, but Keyleth's eyes flutter open. She squints in the brightness of the rising sun before taking a soft breath. "Vax?" She asks.
"I'm right here, Kiki," he stands so she can see him easier. "It's alright, you're okay." He tenderly brushes some hair from her face and with a teary smile leans down to kiss her.
"I feel like shit," she murmurs when he pulls away.
Vax chuckles, "Pickle says that's normal. You're going to have a few days of bed rest to look forward too."
"Yay..." Keyleth sighs as she sinks back into the pillows. "No meetings." Vax chuckles. "You'll stay?" She asks him.
Vax nods instantly, "I will. As long as you'll have me."
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roleplayfinder · 2 years
Note
I am an 18 year old man (he/him/his pronouns) looking for anyone to roleplay a particular 1x1 fantasy plot with me. I do not care about your gender or your character's gender, even if romance is involved, so long as you do not mind me playing a male character (being the guard)! If romance is going to be an aspect, I would only be comfortable with it as a slow burn.
My main requirements are that you are a multi-paragraph roleplayer, 17+ and preferably 18 or older, and you are free to respond once a day if time allows. I prefer messaging on Discord, but I would understand if you feel more comfortable staying on Tumblr.
While I will not demand you to send in your character to me- in fact, given the nature of the roleplay, I would prefer it if I did not know anything about your character and grew to know them naturally- I will ask for you to please send a roleplay sample. This can be something previously written, of course.
When it comes to face claims, I prefer either not to use them altogether or, for myself, not to use a real person's face. It's just a personal comfort issue of mine!
If you like this post, I will send you a message!
[Plot Summary]
The kingdom of Cilicia is a cultural hub. A place of dance, food, drink, fashion, and, the thing it is most heralded for, magic. Though in most other countries, magic is scarce, Cilicia has a high concentration of magic wielders compared to the rest of the world, with one in every ten citizens being able to wield some form of magic.
With such high arcane prowess, despite not having a strong military, it has been able to ward off any invasion attempts. That is, until the rise of a new emperor in the east. Holding much higher ambitions than his father before him, the emperor sent forth his army to attack Cilicia when it was most vulnerable. It was a night of celebration, yet another excuse to feast, dance, and drink that had been planned out for months. A ball was being hosted in the palace, and as is an annual tradition, this one would have its gates open to the general public. This, of course, provided the perfect opportunity for the palace to be infiltrated.
The king and queen could hardly even react when the bloodshed began. Knowing they could not hope to evacuate the rest of the royal family, the rulers agreed to send their most magically gifted child alongside a guard to flee to their sister kingdom to the west hoping to find aid.
Now in disguise, the monarch and guard navigate their now conquered homelands. The invading empire quickly banned all forms of magic, threatening violence and even death to those who used it publically, even in the most passive manner.
The roleplay begins three days after the characters initially fled the palace. Looking somewhat worse for wear after restlessly running and not having much time to rest or eat, random travellers took pity on them and allowed them to ride with them on their wagon heading west.
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nochiquinn · 2 years
Text
campaign 3 episode 32: braeuch
UGH twitch won't let me re-sub with prime until the 29th bc I missed the ONE DAY it was available
I have adhd, this is ableist
liam stop that
I always picture the aunt from coraline chiseling at the taffy bowl
letters is an scp
no dis a ssem ble
I've been making arcane gifs, so: sevika
cyborg ladies >
ah. family trauma.
"it was old" impossibly old. old as balls.
fcg whispers!
WhisperCam
orym
matt using this as an excuse to get a drink
"hold me"
Bad Cop
"we're level 7 and I wanna use it"
the way he paused after "it's been a while"
[sprays fcg with a water bottle] you! have! autonomy!
you are an AUTOMATON it is IN THE NAME kind of
this all hurts
laura inevitably giggling at "pussy"
not looking forward to "dancer is an irredeemable villain" takes
she's just. kind of a not-great person who is also facing probably the most traumatic event of their life? I wouldn't be at my kindest either
fcg :(
"you always do better when you talk" put me in the ground
weird steam-powered giraffe subunit
"you're always asking for more shopping"
somebody in chat said fcg makes the usb device noise when he swaps arm extensions and now it's all I can hear
it is now safe to remove your buzzsaw
travis did not prepare for this information
YES AND, BITCH
(I'm gonna have to hunt that down and make a gif)
"we're fucking at joe's?" "joe wants to fuck me?"
liam
"I didn't mean it like that" "yeah no sure you didn't"
this is how they get taken off twitch
"SAM. what's WRONG WITH YOU."
liam
…so he's rearranging fcg's guts
"only one thing looks purple in the whole world" the fandom trying to connect everything together
WOW
"delilaaaaah, make yourself usefuuuuul you stupid biiiitch"
she did not
sigrun's rune scars
(please read edda-earth)
I got distracted by tiktok (title of my autobiography) (that I didn't finish) (guess why)
the KAREN CULLING
"you cannot say words"
"where the FUCK is aeor"
"unchosen bits" folk pop band name
god time GOD TIME
does fcg become a changebringer cleric bc that would be cool
"guns for tiny monkey hands" is unchosen bits' debut album
"black powder" I miss viktor
love that ashley has a little mister prop now
ashon is that guy who flung the walmart pallet one-handed
is laudna's arm weaker at the elbow or at the shoulder
I have processed Nothing why are we stressed
fearne
they're gonna know
I always feel bad zoning out bc like. this is not much of a reaction post if I don't fucking pay attention to react
…..wooden hats
the faun can detect magic! I didn't know she knew how to do THAT.
cerberus assembly is the new uko'toa (uko'toa)
"everybody knows spartans don't exist!"
"we need someone fast" "and furious" "I could go" "you're neither of those things"
"I've heard people say 'brewch'" "they were wrong"
taliesin why was that so menacing
they are single-handedly going to change the popular pronunciation of the word "brooch"
travis
life is short, do something to a bagel
"first branch of a very big tree" [squints]
"be the best broken thing you can be"
newly refurbished chamber that was once bad
chetney why are you so HORNY
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greypetrel · 1 year
Note
25 for all (or someone of your choice) and 42 for alyra :)
Oooh interesting!! Thank you for asking, Mary! :D
It's pretty long so it's under the cut!
25. What are their hobbies and interests?
Aisling: Horse-riding, Later, horse breeding. She thought to buy another horse to extend the farm, learnt how much good foals cost and... Marched to Mia's farm and ask her if she could borrow her mare.
Experimenting on magic with Dorian, doing the silliest, most pointless things just to learn whether they can. Their better exploits count Ugo the Bog Unicorn ("Do you think we can recreate the spell of the corpses in the Fallow Mire on that dead horse with a sword through his muzzle?" "That's disgusting. Let's try it right now."). Making rain in Solas' rotunda ("SOLAS SOLAS LOWER THE TEMPERATURE" "...Why, da'len?" "TRUST ME WE HAVE AN IDEA. :D"). Creating a vespa out of a couple of old crates, a chair, two wheels and an elvhen artifact. Trying to make donkeys fly (Aisling put a stop to it because the poor animal was scared shitless when they manage to make him levitate). Making one of the Arcane Horrors in the Exalted Plains explode (with the whole of the corpse pit. Hey, it set the thing on fire immediately, as it dispatched the demon, it was awfully messy, but it was two birds with one stone!). They keep on pestering Bull to give them the recipe of Gaatlok but he somehow keep refusing, for clearly no reason at all, their interest is purely scientifical.
She likes to read silly novels and laugh about them, she sincerely find trash good. Walks in nature, maybe foraging since she's there. if she spots some animals, she'll stop to watch them, always. Long discussions over deeper things or silly ones taken very seriously. She likes going to swim when the season is warm enough.
Raina: Knitting! She is a good knitter and quick with her hands, she is always late for the annual round of jumpers to gift to all the gang. (Picture her in Meredith's office, sitting down and knitting as the Knight-Commander talks. "Don't mind me, I'm listening, I'm just running late with gifts. :) Can I use your desk for- THANK YOU, you're very kind." *puts six different balls of yarn on her desk, uninvited. One is a VERY glittery yarn, Cullen will keep finding glitter around the desk for all his time there.)
And then... She is a lot into singing. Absolutely tone-deaf, she can't hold a note to save her life. She doesn't care and she sings anyway, very loud and very heart-felt. The Hanged Man has a karaoke machine ("Bard, play Wonderwall!") and she's the queen of it. She likes to change the lyrics to sea shanties, songs and poems to fit other occasions. Cards: she learnt from the best (Varric and Isabela) and is good at Wicked Grace herself, enjoys it a lot too.
Getting into brawls count as a hobby? And pestering your friends when you are bored until they give you attention or something to do?
Alyra: She hates losing time, so most hobbies with nothing productive feels just like that and she will not entertain herself. She enjoys reading, but is more for non-fiction.
... Listen she's one of those old retired men that go around and look at constructions sites to kill time, she'll just walk to the Alienage, grab a hammer and some nails and start working on something.
Sparring for her counts as a hobby and she'll do it more often than not, her weapons are all kept metycolously clean and sharp and she has daggers hidden... Much of everything.
She's more interested than she lets on in fashion: She may be practical to a fault and fail to understand what's all the fuss with shoes with Leliana, but she secretly like to dress herself up, choose something to wear that compliments her and make her look powerful or imposing.
She'll love to train mabari hounds, she'll SURELY make her own, MoonMoon (yes.) sire some puppies, and she'll train each and every one of them. "Nathaniel, release the hounds." *an emissary from Weisshaupt runs for his life out of Amaranthine, chased by seven snarling mabari hounds*
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beedreamscape · 6 months
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This an excerpt of a Loquaerryn fic idea I had back in March but I just know I'll never finish, I wouldn't know how, so there you have it:
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The last time Laerryn sees Avalir, the city is in a ball of fire.
From the water, a mile or two away, the scene is almost beautiful. Most of the buildings are made from marble and reinforced stone so the first major set of explosions sends entire walls and ceilings up into the sky in a horrifying display of arcane power. The second set begins to chip off at the edges of the mountain, sending energized chunks of brumestone up that explode as soon as they fall back to land.
She knows if she stays and watches, sooner or later one of the detritus will come flying too close and strike her, or maybe the waves will become too much for her to swim against — and maybe it won’t be so bad to give into current, go quick, as peaceful as one can go in the middle of a hurricane.
Her world is burning right before her eyes, no metaphors, no similies.
No house, no city, no husband nor ex-husband, no friends nor rivals, no job or projects. If she’s lucky enough, her family is now running for their lives as quickly as they can, she has no doubts, she can teleport herself and her siblings all the way across the continent with sets of runes she can set up in half a thought.
She hadn’t thought of them in many months, but now the possibility of them also expiring makes the choice of staying put, hoping for a rain of debris or maybe a choking cloud of smoke sound more than appealing — at least from here she can no longer hear the screams of terror, just watching the spectacle of horrors.
She’s putting everything into neat lists, going through the timeline of the night, trying to spot where exactly all went to shit, stretching further back for all the clues she missed, the mistakes she made… but there are too many holes, crossed out lines, and lies; nothing she can find will revert what’s happening but it makes easier to bear it.
It’s too hard to bear, this too she sunders.
Laerryn is almost a shadow in the dark ocean, keeping herself afloat against increasingly agitated waters, but her magic still burns with the remnants of energy still within her. And that is enough.
“Hey! Over here! Wave if you can hear me!”
Several meters away, in a perpendicular trajectory away from the continent, a small boat pack loaded with people cuts through the water with unlikely speed for something this small and populated. Laerryn feels weak and uncooperative, but she waves because there's little left to lose. They make a sharp turn towards her, the closer they get the clearer it becomes the sheen of magic coating the boat’s wood.
Be quick, be quick! Someone screams at the head of the boat.
There isn't much free space left and unlike the others she's soaked through. Now inside the boat, she spots the rudimentary set of arcane batteries powering the propellers that push the boat forward. She knows most of these people aren't magical, Cathmoiran folk.
She holds out her hand towards the batteries and empties the last of her spell energy into it, and with that they are abruptly thrusted forward, those inside having to hold onto the sides to keep themselves grounded.
“Are you a wizard?”
She nods without looking at the asker.
“Are you from Avalir?”
“Yes.” She looks at it. “Were.”
“Can you tell us what's happening?”
Her teeth begin shattering loudly. “The gods… are at war.”
There's a burst of chatter. “Do you know why!?”
“No. It doesn't matter either way.”
They travel for what feels like hours before the batteries start to wear down. By then, even in the nearly complete darkness of the ocean were it not for a full Catha and a flaring Ruidus, on the distant horizon, nothing but a glowing speck, Domunas still burns.
The two children on board sleep in their mothers' chest while the adults try convincing each other to sleep, to rest, it'll pass it'll pass, but Laerryn knows that it won't. She curls up and watches through her dark vision the speck of fire, constant explosions, airships making way east of the continent or upwards towards Wildemount.
Deep within she hopes the fuel that feeds the fires will end, that the demon god will make way to Vaselheim and make merry there, leaving the ashes of her city behind.
She doesn't know how long she stays there, how long she watches, but thirst and hunger and grief makes her insides hollow and sore. She's exhausted but fears if she closes her eyes, the further everything she loves will be from her.
But she remembers exactly how Quay would coax her into sleeping, not trancing: that she'd not only rest her body, but her mind, give thoughts and ideas a rest, put grief to sleep.
Her exhaustion is great enough to allow her that luxury now.
She curls against the side of the boat, clothes still damp, doing her best to ignore the hunger and thirst and joint-hurting cold.
She'll put this pain to sleep.
Laerryn wakes up with her mouth full of salt water, her mouth her throat her lungs her ears. Or the moment right after it left those spaces, air rushing in like sandpaper against her soft tissue.
She can't hear anything except the sound of the ocean and her own loud ragged breathing, reaching for something, anything that'll keep her stable, finding only wet slippery wood beneath her.
“Miss! Miss, calm down. You're safe.”
Desperate gasps are her only response. She can barely make out the person's — or people's — blurred outline against the exploding white of sunlight. She squeezes her eyes shut.
“Wh— What happen—?” Her voice comes out significantly raspy and breathy.
“There was a storm going on! We just pulled you out of the water.”
A second voice comes in, “It was devilish quick but it was merciless.”
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