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cambion-companion · 8 months

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could I request for you to write an scenario in which Raphael does not die to Tav nor their party, but in an other similarly humiliating circumstances, and Tav when learning about this desperately goes to save Raphael from his father by bargaining with Mephistopheles? (hilariously in a very sad way, I assume this, is the only moment that Mephistopheles would ever "value" Raphael's life, but then again that is devils for you) and Raphael's confusion at the whole thing, someone taking a terrible bargain to save him, just… because they… like him…??? (bonus points, if Tav still has a crown to willingly give Raphael XD)

It's beat up Raphael hours huh? (also Korilla will be fine)

Hi there love. This turned from a drabble into a oneshot haha

Have fun running to Cania to pick up your wayfaring devil!

Raphael x reader (gn)

Korilla had come to you.

Broker and bruised, battered and bloody. Her long curly hair matted with mud and dried viscous.

“Help him.” Her first words, rasped from a throat raw from screams.

“Korilla!” You caught her weight as her knees buckled, lowering her gently to the ground. The Dwarven woman wasn’t your friend by any means, but she had been your ally. “Who needs my help?” You couldn’t fathom who she might be referring to.

Surely it wasn’t Raphael. It couldn’t possibly be the enigmatic, self-assured cambion.

Korilla’s answering rasp dispelled any doubt. “My master.”

A fog of shock settled over your mind, your hands loosening around Korilla’s shaking form. She whispered the truth into your ear, her bruised lips trailing her blood onto your clammy skin. With fading voice Korilla told of the attack, Raphael’s demise and his imminent doom.

“Portal. Diabolist. Cania.” Korilla’s breaths grew short as she fought valiantly once more against the oncoming black.

“Hold on, Korilla. You’re going to be okay.”

“Save him.” She said again, her eyes slowly glossing over as the life left her broken body.

You cursed. The warlock’s last actions had been to find you in a desperate hope you’d help Raphael before he was consumed by his father. His father who just so happened to be an archdevil. Mephistopheles.

“Little shit could’ve mentioned that.” You grimaced, lowering Korilla’s body to rest upon the cold earth.

You stood, pinching the bridge of your nose as your thoughts whirled and clashed. Not only had the attackers killed Raphael, but they had also looted his house, stealing the Orphic hammer and the only hope you’d had of defeating the Elder Brain.

“Damn it.” You returned to your companions with the news. “Looks like we’re taking a rescue party to hell.”

“Who’s the damsel in distress?” Astarion asked, tilting his head as his red eyes flickered over your blood-flecked form.

“Raphael.”

The plan was to use as much stealth as possible. The vaults of Mephisto had been broken into not long ago, according to Raphael, so it was possible. A direct confrontation with the archdevil himself was out of the question.

The diabolist in Baldur’s Gate took some convincing, but in the end you were able to push enough gold across the counter to seal the deal.

“Very well. Though I warn you, you’ll not return alive or with your souls intact.”

“Yes, yes.” You waved the woman off, her visage reminding you of Korilla. “Believe me, I’ve heard it all before.” Your eyes scanned the musky shop. Do you have anything that will locate a specific fiend?”

With a Locate Creature spell scroll ready in your bag you watched as the diabolist created for you a portal. Ice crystals immediately crusted on the edge of the black abyss, the wind coming from the portal nearly freezing your shoes to the floor.

“Quickly, and remember the disguises!” She ushered you and your party through, the frigid darkness enveloping you with a grim finality.

Through cold halls you’d snuck, invisible fingers cold as death scraping along your back and through your hair as you passed beneath torches of blue flame.

Time lost all meaning here. Your eyes began to play tricks on you. The only thing keeping your mind focused was the spell lighting the edge of your vision with a warm glow, growing brighter as you hurried to where Raphael was being held.

An age, or an hour had passed.

The wrought iron door, so cold to the touch it burned, swung noiselessly inward, admitting you to an octagonal shaped room. On the far wall you saw him, his form dark, chained by one wrist to the wall.

“Raphael.” You hissed, unexplainable relief flooding your frozen veins when his head moved in response.

Your companions waited by the open doorway, keeping watch from the shadows. You snuck as quickly as you could to where Raphael was restrained. His glowing eyes looking down upon you with consternation before recognition slowly dawned across his sharp features.

You held up a hand, silencing him as he opened his mouth. Movement could be heard from outside the prison room. You were running out of time.

“Can you get us out of here if I free you?” You hissed, still keenly aware of the nature of the devil.

Raphael nodded, his tail moving to and fro in agitation. Something about his vitality seemed to be missing, you had never imagined seeing him in such a state. It was unsettling.

The matter of removing the singular shackle proved to be more challenging than you’d thought. Astarion’s lockpicking skills proved futile.

“It’s a magical seal.” Raphael breathed, his voice low yet sharp with anger born of desperation. “Now’s not the time to play the fool.”

You gave him a severe look which he matched right back at you, his eyes sparking flame.

You raised a hand to the ice-covered metal, about to dispel the magic surrounding the lock. “You owe me a favor. A big one. I don’t know yet what I will ask of you, but you will deliver. Understood?”

Raphael’s gaze scorched you for a moment, it was clear he was furious with his current predicament. But he had no choice, and both of you knew it.

He nodded curtly.

You cast your spell.

Raphael’s wrist broke free with the sharp sound of metal splintering. His hand closed tight around your arm, the dungeons of Mephisto melted away as you and your companions were yanked unceremoniously back to the material plane.

At least, your companions were. Deposited non-gently upon the hard ground of your camp.

Raphael kept hold of you. Taking you back to the foyer of his house. The house which still lay in semi ruin from its previous sacking.

He was angry. Each step he took crackled fire and promise of swift vengeance.

“Raphael…” You said hesitantly, following him down into the dining hall. “Raphael, Korilla-”

“Is dead.” Under the glow of firelight, you could properly see the state he was in. You winced when he turned to face you. “I know. Though not as dead as those who dared pillage my home, the fools.”

“Do you know who?” You remained wary as you watched him conjure an armchair and sink down into it.

Raphael ignored your question, he issued orders in the abrasive Infernal tongue, seemingly into thin air. His fingers clicked and a spark of flame licked around them. Unseen servants began bustling around, clearing the debris and wreckage. Setting the House of Hope back in order.

Raphael leveled his gaze upon you. His expression was not unkind, it was calculating. He had underestimated you and overestimated himself. Not a mistake he’d make again.

“Why?” No flowery words, no ado.

“I still need the hammer.” You had the response prepared, having known the question was coming.

“You could have hunted down the thieves without my help.” Raphael narrowed his hellfire eyes. “Why come to my aid?”

“Korilla asked me to. It was her dying wish.” You fidgeted under his piercing presence. “Besides, you’re a useful ally. I still need your help to save the world.”

Raphael arched a brow, unconvinced. “Half-truths are still considered lies, dear. But there are matters I must attend to.” He stood, restless.

“Will your father come for you again once he realizes you’re gone.” The question came before you could stop yourself.

“Concerned for me?” Raphael appraised you, a knowing tilt to his head. “No. He will not.”

You didn’t argue, Raphael was clearly on edge, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

You rubbed circles against your aching temple. “Well, seems we have some thieves to track down. A hammer to retrieve.”

Raphael looked as though he was biting back a sharp retort. He chewed on his words, looking you over. “Yes.” He growled, infernal fire flickering off his form. “You may watch as I peel their souls from the writhing mortal flesh.”

In an unexpected move, Raphael strode to you and took your hand, placing a kiss to your knuckles. His breath hot on your still chilled skin. “You may even assist me, if you so desire.” He straightened.

That was as close to a “thank you” as you were going to get.

You set your jaw grimly. “When do we start?”

#raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #fanfic #oneshot #bg3 one shot #house of hope #au

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ineffablydaydreaming · 8 months

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Okay. I need to ramble.

Crowley's entire existence revolves around the apple, it's an event that's in constant repetition. Let me explain:

To humanity, he only had to give them the apple once. With humanity, neither the two hesitated: Crowley says it out loud, he doesn't get what's wrong with knowing the difference between good and evil (even though personally I don't interpret that as being the only thing the apple is about), so he didn't hesitate in creating the original sin, because he either didn't think it was a big deal, or because he thought it was important that humans gained that Knowledge and formed their own opinions and thoughts on the universe rather than being eternally naive, or both. And the humans didn't hesitate to grasp that knowledge either, because... Well, we're humans, you and I. I think we can probably relate.

So as soon as he climbed that wall of Eden he was done, but just with humanity. When he re-encountered Aziraphale, the apple event started to repeat itself again. Over and over, throughout their entire 6000 years of being together, Crowley tried giving Aziraphale the apple, but differently from humanity, Aziraphale hesitated every single time and only took small pieces.

Over and over, Crowley voices his thoughts on God's plan and God Herself. "You can't kill children! [...] But that's something one'd expect my side to do..." He also voices his thoughts on Heaven and Hell's way of working, especially the way they treat humans. "Our administrations don't care how things are done, they just want them done." "That only works if you start everyone off equal. You can't start someone off like that and expect them to do as well as someone born in a castle."

All of this is Crowley offering Aziraphale the apple. The apple is knowledge, it's the knowledge that you aren't the good guys. you are flawed. you are corrupt. they are brainwashing you. you're just a tool for them to meet their own goals. they don't care about you nor humanity, just keeping the status quo.

He's tempting him, constantly, with the knowledge, for him to finally realize the truth, and sometimes it works. The Beginning, The Deluge, A Companion to Owls, The Ressurectionist and Armageddon were all attempts Crowley made for Aziraphale to finally eat the apple. In The Beginning and in The Deluge it doesn't do much. You can see the doubt in his eyes and his voice, how he doesn't approve of what God wants to do but can't say it nor do anything about it.

In A Companion to Owls, it's the first time he lies without lying by omission, instead directly lying to Gabriel. He looks at Crowley before he does it. He looks at Crowley, because they share empathy for humanity, for Job's children they refused to let die.

He looks at Crowley, and Crowley offers him a slice of the apple. And he bit it.

In The Ressurectionist, it's not about Aziraphale going against his staff, it's him questioning the morals he was taught by Heaven. It isn't much in comparison... But you can see he regrets what he did and chooses to help Elspeth. The one who rebels is Crowley, who prevents her from dying and going to Hell, and it's implied he's tortured because of it (next flashback is him asking for Holy Water).

In this case, Crowley simply led him to the apple. Humanity offered it. He took another bite.

In Armageddon, Crowley offers him the apple, saying that they can't just let the world end while watching it. Aziraphale hesitates, then bites it, agreeing to help raise Warlock. They realize they got the wrong boy and Crowley wants to give up, but Aziraphale doesn't give up, instead continues his search. Crowley offers him the apple, saying they need to kill the antichrist somehow, saying he won't do it because of his own morals while Aziraphale says he won't do it because of Heaven's reputation: he refuses to bite it. But only this time. After their two breakups, he's hopeful, he thinks he can fix things, he talks to Metatron. His hope vanishes.

He bites the apple, at last. It's why he doesn't hesitate trying to shoot Adam while he's in Tracy's body. It's why he tries to defend Adam saying Heaven and Hell might be going against the Ineffable Plan. It's why he tells Crowley to do something when Satan is coming. It's why he and Crowley swap bodies in order to survive. He eats the apple, he has the knowledge, and he doesn't give it up.

He and Crowley always do what they think is right. I doubt I need to explain Season 2 in this post, do I? Entire season is Aziraphale evading Heaven and trying to find a solution to Gabriel's situation on his own. He bit the apple on the first episode before Crowley even showed up.

But then, why did Aziraphale give Adam and Eve the flaming sword if he didn't talk to Crowley beforehand? Wasn't that his own idea?

Well. Before the Beginning, I truly feel like that conversation about how the nebula will have to be shut down in 6000 years didn't just plant the seed of doubt on Crowley, it also did on Aziraphale. His was much tinier, quieter, he was still loyal to Heaven... Until he no longer could be. Until he saw an unarmed Adam and a pregnant Eve leaving the Garden to the outside world where everything was cold and deadly and out to get them. The seed of doubt tied its roots on Aziraphale's sympathy and kindness, for Crowley but, especially, for humanity. He's their guardian, after all. He couldn't just stand and watch.

Because, back then, in space, he had bit a tiny piece of the apple when Crowley, unintentionally, offered it to him. "You can't create an entire universe, run it for a couple thousand years, then stop!" He tasted it, even if just for a fraction, but then handed it away. "It's not up to us to make decisions for the Almighty." But the taste, the seed of doubt, was still there, lingering. So he gives away the flaming sword.

Their sympathy for humanity (and for each other; "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble!") is a trait they mutually share, and because they've both tasted the apple, they're willing to break their respective rules in order to stand for what they think is right. And we can see that Aziraphale's sympathy doesn't extend only to humans, he feels it for Gabriel when he says something terrible would happen if he didn't come to the bookshop.

But Crowley wasn't the first person in the universe to offer someone the apple, you see.

This is the ironic part.

You see, Crowley offered the apple to Aziraphale, then to humanity, then tried, for thousands of years, to make Aziraphale eat the rest of it. But do you know who made Crowley eat the apple himself? Do you know who made Crowley receive the knowledge? Do you know who made Crowley differentiate fair from unfair, good from evil, bad from good? Do you know who made Crowley decide to disagree, to form his own thoughts, to express his unsatisfaction with God's plan?

Aziraphale.

Aziraphale started it -- he stated a fact, a knowledge, that Crowley disagreed with and thought was unfair and a bad idea. Crowley's Fall began right then and there with him voicing his concerns and losing his faith.

Aziraphale stated where the apple was and Crowley willingly picked it up and ate it, and now, Crowley is in a constant loop of offering the apple to Aziraphale himself.

Crowley fell because he bit the apple before it was even called an apple. Aziraphale offered it to him without even knowing and now he's doomed to eat it too.

"I'm just a demon who goes along with Hell's plans as far as he can."

[...]

"You're just an angel who goes along with Heaven's plans as far as he can."

"But that sounds..." "Lonely? Yeah."

[...]

"We're on our side."

#hissing around #good omens tv #good omens #go2 #gomens #gomens 2 #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #good omens s2 #good omens spoilers

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utilitycaster · 24 days

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would love to see your take on the recent laudna-delilah merge! i believe you've mentioned before that you found laudna stale (?) so i'm very interested to know if this feels compelling to you. i'm DISGUSTED and scared 😅

I LOVE IT. I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT.

In all seriousness my issue has always been that Delilah has for the most part been not just an unfired Chekhov's gun but like...a gun that occasionally thrusts itself into the hands of a major character who was designed to handle this gun and yet everyone including that character was, for like, the majority of the play, repeatedly saying "oh man it's that wacky gun again!" and really, the gun was way cooler when it was fired in an earlier play in 2017.

You can play a warlock without a complex relationship to their patron! Loquatius is a solid example; Elmenore and he are on pretty chill terms and he's mostly a bard and it's a story not about that aspect of him anyway. Zahra is another; she and Sirius appear to be largely simpatico! But if you pick Delilah Fucking Briarwood as your patron you best come correct, and, increasingly, finally, following episode 77, Marisha has and it's been great and it finally expanded into the rest of the party.

I love how quick Laudna is to trust Delilah on this even though she knows Delilah lies, she knows about the gnarlrock. I love how Imogen immediately stands by her and Fearne is inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt, only to slowly, with mounting horror, realize (or, more likely, reluctantly admit to themselves) that this is Delilah's doing and that Laudna either won't or can't resist. Because that's the immediate threat - sure, it says something about Laudna's character and victimhood whether she is doing this deliberately, or whether she cannot overcome the compulsions from Delilah, and for what it's worth I think it's somewhere in the gray area between - but in the end it matters most that Laudna as an entity comprising both herself and Delilah is going to pull shit like attacking people in their sleep to steal magic items to feed to the evil undead wizard. She's more sympathetic if she's trying but failing, but in the end, if we can return to the (imperfect but not uncalled for) addiction metaphor Marisha has invoked re: Laudna, whether you drive drunk because you were in recovery and were triggered by circumstance and fell off the wagon, or whether you simply don't care, you're still drunk driving and someone still can be killed. Intent says a lot about your character but not whether you're a danger to yourself and others, and Laudna undeniably is.

I'm honestly happy with basically any outcome here. I think it will be narratively easier if Laudna doesn't really resist much, given that that's what she's been doing for 30 years and much of the campaign; foreshadowing is a complicated thing in an improvised medium but I think it's hard to deny that a tragic ending hasn't been well signaled. But I think it's possible for Marisha to thread the needle, particularly if she keeps putting in stellar performances like that one, to have Laudna snap and turn on Delilah. It's doing wonders for my thoughts on Imogen and Laudna's relationship too; finally there's some unavoidable tension and conflict to the point that even if they deny it that creates more conflict. I don't know if they'll overcome it, but I don't think we can have gnarlrock all sizzle no steak #2 this time. I think Imogen's going to have to make a stand of some kind, even if it pains her.

#answered #Anonymous #critical role #cr spoilers #laudna

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takenbypeter · 1 year

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A New Form Of Intimacy

Adam Warlock x reader

Words: 1946

Number 19: "you want to kiss me so bad."

Summary: First kiss with our favorite golden boy + bonus ending with Drax and Kraglin

Join my 1k shipping event

Adam knew better than to trust Drax with relationship business, especially after what happened the last time.

But Drax was the only one he knew that had had a long-lasting, loving relationship and if Adam was with you, that’s what he wanted too.

“You two have never kissed?” Drax asked, clearly surprised by the fact. The whole situation came to when Adam asked Drax about his favorite moments with his late wife Ovette. One of the stories Drax told was a tale about their first kiss.

“Wait, so this whole time you two have been together then, what have you been doing?”

Adam’s golden eyes looked around for a moment before his hands interlocked in his lap, “not that it’s really any of your business…but we cuddle.”

Drax’s lips quivered and Adam watched as he barely tried to contain his laughter as he bellowed out, “ahahahaha!” He shouted, causing Adam to glance at Kraglin confused before going back to Drax.

Adam would continue to explain how he would place his head on your chest every time and he’d hear your precious heartbeats, and although Adam believed this would prove how affectionate you two are, it really only proved Drax’s point further.

“The cuddling is actually quite tender,” Adam would finish as Drax’s fit would seem to be nearing its end. At least that’s what it seemed, but of course he immediately continued again.

Adam scrunched his brows as he turned his attention to Kraglin who was staring at Drax with an irritated expression before he shook his head and directed his attention to Adam.

“While cuddling is…sweet, Drax is right. Kissing is much more intimate and enjoyable for couples as the relationship continues on.”

Adam turned to Kraglin, now curious about the man, “so you’ve experienced it too?”

Kraglin looked a little taken back by the question as Drax now looked at him curiously waiting for an answer as well.

“Not recently…but you’d be surprised by my past. I was quite the ladies man”

Adam looked at Drax who just closed his eyes and shook his head. But Adam’s arms waved as he tried to regain focus to the main discussion, “okay so a kiss, what is it exactly?” Although he was made to be perfect he wasn’t really made for relationships, his sole purpose was to be a warlock, but that of course changed after all that had happened.

Drax answered his question this time, “it’s when your lips meet their lips.” Kraglin nodded before adding, “you gotta make sure the mood is right first.”

Drax scrunched his face in disgust, “mood? Forget mood, I say just go for it.”

Great now a new problem was added upon everything, should he create a mood or just go for it. While Adam sat there, pondering on all the information provided Kraglin added on one more rule, “oh but the most important thing is the other person has to want it too.”

Drax nodded at that, and Adam was content for a moment that they at least agreed on that, but still, what was he to do?

On the other side of Knowhere, you were pretty lax at the moment, having finished helping out for the day. It wasn’t everyday that you found nothing to do on the planet and no doubt something would come up soon enough. But for now you were going to curl up and relax at least that’s what you thought before a knock on your door interrupted.

Curious you peeked at the window to see who it could be and recognizing it to be your loving partner you head straight for the door. It was strange though you thought he was busy today, but you weren’t really complaining.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, opening the door allowing him to enter. Your tone was joyful but that meant nothing at the moment as Adam was fixed on his own thoughts.

“I’m sorry, are you busy right now? I can come later,” the sentence made your eyebrows come together as you recalled he would be the busy one, “no, I just thought you had plans all day.”

“Oh, right, of course! We took a little break, but we’re practically done anyway.”

“Awesome,” you replied. It was then that you’d noticed that he’d been standing in the center of your quarters. Typically when he arrived he would go straight for your bed, either sitting to reveal to you the details of his day, if not your bed he’d sit on your countertop. But instead he was just standing there.

While you had been expressing clear confusion, Adam on the other hand had suddenly begun to realize he was feeling that feeling again.

It was the feeling he felt when he was first around you, as well as the same feeling he felt when he first confessed to you.

He was anxious and his body was tense as he suddenly realized going with Drax’s, just do it plan, might not have been the best idea. There was always time to change his mind, but yet here he was already standing in your quarters.

“Why are you just standing there? Take a seat,” you chuckled pointing towards your bed. Adam shook his head with a hard shake.

You stared at the man for a moment before letting out an understandably perplexed “…okay.”

But with that you walked back over to him and stood across from him examining his face, “are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting strange.”

Adam stood there not even knowing how to even bring the topic up, he wondered if maybe he should set the mood like Kraglin suggested but then he shook his head getting rid of the idea again. He hated this feeling of being choked up, of course it only happens around you though.

You were beginning to get nervous now, whatever it was, clearly it was big if it had made him practically stuck in place. Whatever it was it seemed hard for him to express and you wanted to show him that you would be there for him no matter what. Because of that thought you raised a hand to cup his face, “hey whatever it is just tell me. It’ll be fine, you’ve got this.”

Adam leaned into your touch before releasing a breath that he had been holding. He decided he was just going to tell you everything.

“I talked to Drax and Kraglin and they believe kissing is essential in relationships and that we should be kissing.”

“Oh,” is what you let out, not expecting that at all.

Adam continued though, “they explained to me how intimate it is and now I feel like we should be kissing just as others do.”

“Oh,” you repeated, now curious about that idea.

“Is it true that Terran couples kiss?”

“It is.”

Adam’s golden eyes shifted to the floor while a crease formed between his eyebrows while he stood there.

He looked so troubled with the thought, this is why you haven’t brought it up. Frankly there have been moments where you wanted to grab his face and push your lips to his but you knew he came out of development earlier than he was supposed to, what if he wasn’t ready for this? You reached down, taking both his hands while gaining his focus with his expression shifting into a more relaxed one.

“But Adam we don’t have to listen to Drax or Kraglin, we don’t have to do it right now, every couple is different. We can take all the time you need.”

“Right of course.”

You two stayed there in the center of your room hand in hand gazing at each other. But Adam’s relaxed expression shifted once again, returning to an unsettled expression with his lips pressed together. His eyes dropped down to your hands as he squeezed them, his hands warm as he did so, and you noticed as his cheeks darkened.

You seemed to understand that notion.

“You want to kiss me so bad, don’t you?”

“So bad!” He breathed out, content that you knew him so well.

You let out a laugh, nodding your head, “okay then, if you’re ready so am I…you go.” You direct, feeling it only made sense since he was the one to bring it up. But Adam pointed to himself, his eyes widening, “me?”

“Yes you, who else?”

“Right of course,” he said shaking his head, his golden locks coming a little out of place.

You stood still waiting for the moment and Adam’s eyes gazed down to your lips, as if calculating how he was going to do this. After a moment of hesitation he leaned and as gentle as possible he connected to your lips.

You both stood there with no movement, just two lips pushed together. It was too short for you to react, because Adam quickly separated with an unsure expression on his face, “…Kraglin was right that is very intimate.”

“Yeah it is,” you added, plastering a smile that the golden boy quickly caught on to.

“What’s wrong?…Was it not good?”

His expressions ran hurt, as his eyes widened into that puppy dog look that he seemed to emulate so well.

“No. It was fine, it's just…here let me try something.”

Adam eyed you peculiarly as your hands reached up against his cheeks. Softly you brought his face down to yours and once again met his lips. As you did so your eyelids naturally closed and Adam followed. Your mouth interlocked with his perfectly and he followed your lead, moving his lips just as you were.

For a moment your hands briefly left his face as they went to land on his shoulders and began slowly trailing down them. You trailed his arms all the way to his hands that you considered quite delicate despite all the fighting that he’s done.

You guided his hands, placing them on your waist and then leaving them there to return back to his face. His hands held your waist so gently, as if you were fragile.

Together you stayed like that, matching each other's touch, not wanting the moment to end.

But of course it had to.

You gently pushed his chest separating from him and he looked at you curiously, “did I mess up again?”

You shook your head assuring he was fine, “no, you were perfect I just need some air,” you said, collecting your breaths.

It was at that moment that you realized that Adam could definitely hold his breath far longer than you could.

Adam watched until you collected yourself, before he leaned close again, only mere centimeters from your lips as if waiting for permission and all you could say while a smile appeared on your face again was, “what have I done?”

His golden lips captured yours for a moment before you split again, unable to stop that foolish grin that wouldn’t leave your face, “I’ve created a monster,” you added as he once again took your lips with his.

Bonus:

Adam is seen by Drax and Kraglin walking with his mind clearly in a daze as he passes with his steps light, practically bouncing with each step.

Kraglin turned to Drax, “we did that.”

Drax looked at Kraglin then turned around looking the complete opposite direction first before turning back, “did what?”

Kraglin motioned to where Adam was, “that! They’ve clearly kissed.”

Drax peered at Adam whose figure was in the distance now before turning back to Kraglin, “no, I don’t think so.”

“What? Are you kidding?! Did you see how happy he was?”

Drax shrugged, “I don’t think so.” He repeated leaving Kraglin flabbergasted.

Dialogue Prompts 2

#adam warlock fanfiction #adam warlock fanfic #adam warlock imagine #adam warlock x reader #gotg fanfiction #gotg fanfic #gotg imagine #gotg x reader #guardians of the galaxy imagine #guardians of the galaxy x reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #dialogue prompt 2

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foodsies4me · 7 months

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AWG Alec portalling into the Seelie realm when Magnus forgets to make kissy face at him before he goes to work

This ended up getting far more worldbuilding than it was supposed to... Anyway, here is some Alec portals into the Seelie realm because Magnus wasn't there when he woke up which is forbidden, and Magnus (slightly) freaking out over Alec's magic again because it still makes No Sense.

The thing was, even if he had known Magnus' exact location, Alexander shouldn't have been able to portal into the fae realm the way he did. Not when the man couldn't sustain something as simple as a light spell after two months of magic lessons.

And yet somehow he did.

The fae realms had always been notoriously difficult to portal into. Even Magnus tried to limit himself to the same seven places when portaling to one of the fae's domains, using the realm's twisting and moving magic to guide him to the location he needed to go. And still, Alec somehow created a portal - if one could even call what he did portaling - into the Unseelie realm to join him.

At this rate, Ragnor was going to have another conniption.

Magnus had been picking Yerpite flowers in the valleys of the in-betweens, taking enough to create multiple batches of Moonlight Draught as Catarina's and the Spiral's reserves were running low.

Despite their many attempts throughout the centuries, Yerpite, Millberget, and Engredile flowers refused to grow outside of the fae realms. No matter what they tried, the plants died within a matter of weeks, which wasn't more than an occasional nuisance when it came to the Millberget and Engredile.

The Yerpite was another matter.

Not only did the flowers grow in the so-dubbed valley of in-betweens, named for its location in the no man's land between the Seelie and Unseelie courts as well as its habit of disappearing for years on end, but they also flowered under very specific circumstances that nobody truly understood.

Magnus has no doubts that if Moonlight Draught wasn't the sole potion that could help counter Warlock's Wasting Disease, warlocks worldwide would have given up on using the flower centuries ago.

At least Magnus was close enough friends with the Drows to be notified when the flowers bloomed. Otherwise, with how different the passage of time was between their realms and those of the fae, picking the flowers would be even more difficult than it already was.

Magnus had taken on the habit of portaling instantly whenever Dhuulyn sent him a message that the valley was blooming. Whether he was sleeping, partying, or even partaking in some of the more debauched pleasures of life, Magnus never took longer than a handful of seconds to gather his magic and portal right at the edges of the valley lest it disappear again before he arrived.

Alexander, it seems, took offense to that.

They had both been sleeping in his loft when Magnus received the message. Alexander had been softly snoring, the snuffling sound lulling Magnus deeper and deeper into slumber when his wards had reacted to the burst of magic that always preceded one of Dhuulyn's alerts.

Magnus snapped wide awake within seconds, quickly but gently detangling his and Alexander's fingers and rolling away without waking him up, to grab the coin that landed on his bedside table.

Then, he magicked on some clothes before he snapped a portal into existence and stepped into the Unseelie's dark meadows.

Magnus didn't know how long he'd been gone from their realm, but he had been picking flowers for no more than fifteen minutes when a surge of powerful but familiar magic flashed across his senses seconds before Alexander materialized into thin air.

Which is how he ended up in his current situation

"Alex-"

"You weren't in bed when I woke up," Alexander grouches in that particular way he only allows himself to do when he's comfortable and still half-asleep. "Weren't in the loft either," he mumbles as an afterthought.

Magnus muffles a (slightly hysterical) laugh against Alexander's bare shoulder. "I'm sorry, dear heart," he apologizes, pressing a kiss to Alexander's waiting lips while his magic rushes to cover him up. "I'll explain everything when we're back in the loft, but this couldn't wait. But if you're here you can help me pick some more flowers before this valley disappears again with us in it."

Alexander gives him a confused frown, bleary eyes, and tousled hair proving he's not entirely awake yet. He does as Magnus orders him to though and reaches for the flowers closest to him after a request for another kiss. A request Magnus is all too happy to fulfill.

Having Alexander there to help him pick the flowers with two, doesn't win him as much time as Magnus hoped, but it does make the task more enjoyable.

Besides, Alexander's hand is too warm to let go of.

#foodsies rambles #foodsies writes #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #awg #completely unrelated but #to the anon who left the wonderful “the trainees protect baby Alec after Alec turns into baby Alec because magic” idea #YES #I lOVE IT #I NEED TO WRITE

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alexanderlightweight · 11 months

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Hope your moving is going swimmingly! I am also moving soon and already stressed l. Plus work so 😬. So my request is something soothing, where Magnus and Alec are just having a lovely time. Verse of your choice

i mean, it happened and it's now past the hardest part! tbh it was stressful and super hot — twas 115ish — but the worst part is now over! Nightshade and the Abyss love the new place and the Abyss is having fun trying to assert her authority over the house — she’s tiny, it’s not going as she planned. however she is about 1/10 of Nightshade’s weight and size and she spent the first night taunting him, teasing him and smacking him with sheathed paws every time he gave in to her meowing at him.

she likes to wait until nightshade is sleeping and then she sneaks up on him and meows at him until he wakes up and then he goes to say hi, she smacks him and then runs so he’ll chase her so he can get in trouble and so she can smack him again. he’a still really young but he’s trying so hard to be friends with her and she’s older and has no interest in actually playing with a puppy — just bullying him. she’s the stereotype of a cat who goes ‘mwahaha’ while blaming the dog for things.

btw Nightshade’s reaction is legit to just upset zoomie or shake a toy at her and cry after she hits him.

they both got in trouble for those shenanigans btw (the running in the kitchen)

moving is incredibly taxing, mentally and physically so take care of yourself! be safe <3 remember that it’s okay and necessary to take breaks and hydrate lots!

also just so it's known in general, things will be a bit odd even with the move finishing up because my laptop got damaged pretty badly during the move and we don't know if it's salvageable yet. so i'm using my phone and saeth's when they're not using it for writing themselves.

this is in the 'petals vs' and i hope you find it soothing because i did but if not, just let me know cause everyone finds different vibes comforting! good luck on your move! let me know how it goes? i hope it is as stress free as possible and nothing breaks!

<3 lumine

—

Magnus adds two streaks of purple to his hair and one of mauve before he holds up of a sprig of wisteria, making sure that the colors match. They do and it’s with pleasure that Magnus puts in two — magically crystallized and grown — dangling earrings created from the same flowers that Alexander is going to wear.

It’s a simple night out and Magnus is in the mood for the quiet intimacy of a long walk with his beloved.

They don’t necessarily need to dress up for what will essentially be a trek through a hidden grove, but both of them like to indulge both each other and themselves.

“Alexander—” Magnus calls as he finishes the last touches of his craft and when he turns, it’s to find his darling watching him with soft, adoring eyes.

Magnus manages to last an entire half-a-second before he’s crossing the room and rubbing his palms down Alexander’s shoulders and then kissing his cheek.

“You look better.” He finally lets himself say, drinking in the sight that is a well-rested, fully healed Alexander. A kiss is pressed to his jaw and then his mouth, lips lingering with a subtle intensity that lingers almost wistfully.

“You too, you have enough energy for this trip, right?” He’s asked carefully and Magnus can’t help his smile.

Alexander isn’t being doubtful, he’s being earnestly sweet and Magnus lingers in the languid feeling of being cared for. The last three nights have been full of portals and magic and healing and — while Alexander hunted down the ingredients needed and sharing strength — it’s Magnus who has been expending all of his energy and energy to the very brink.

Well, Magnus and half a dozen other warlocks but only he and Cat worked the three days continuously.

They were the only ones who could.

“I’m fine sweetheart. All I needed was a night of rest and you, safe in my arms.”

“I still think you should have let me give you a massage last night.” Alexander murmurs with a pout and Magnus laughs, pressing his fingertips to Alexander’s mouth in a gentle kiss.

“It either would have turned into something neither of us had the energy for, or you would have fallen asleep half on top of me, darling.” Magnus can’t help how soft his tone goes, “we were both spent, Alexander. You’re the only reason Cat didn’t insist on coming home with me, normally she puts her foot down when we encounter a disease like this.” Magnus winks, “she doesn’t normally trust me not to try and immediately research how it happened. However she trusts that you’re a sufficient distraction.”

“Still—” is all Alexander says, a deep yearning in his voice, “you deserve to be taken care of. Especially with how much you take care of everyone else.”

“You’ll find I take plenty care of myself, especially when I’m given a good reason to.” Magnus gives a playful smirk because Alexander knows that he’s the reason Magnus is alluding to and his boy laughs, tender and sweet and Magnus aches with it.

“Then I’ll need to find a way to stick around then, just to make sure.”

Magnus’ breathe hitches with want, because they’ve slowly been talking about this and Magnus can’t deny Alexander’s sincerity anymore. No one who goes to talk to the Council of Elders and some of the oldest members of the shadowworld — who requested and paid the costs of asking to feel some of the best and worst emotions associated with immortality — is insincere.

Alexander means it.

His devotion is steadfast and his love unwavering, his trust all encompassing when it comes to Magnus and Magnus feels both ravenous and also hesitant.

Yet how can he disrespect the adoration and devotion that he’s invoked by merely being himself, when Alexander is so guileless about it. When Alexander has made lists of places he wants to visit with Magnus, the greenhouses and gardens he wants to tend to himself when he’s retired, the fact that Alexander wants to retire.

That his beloved wants to leave the clave better than before, but leave it all the same. The day when he will step away from the burdens and responsibilities of his people and family and belong wholly to himself and to Magnus.

Alexander wants to learn and study and travel and love but he wants to only do it with Magnus and that is a treasure Magnus never realized he’d been taught could never be his. Yet to dismiss it would be to invalidate the love given him and well, Magnus would be both cruel and a fool to do that.

And while sometimes in his long life, Magnus knows he’s been both — though rarely at the same time. It would take an act of befuddlement from his own father for Magnus to act foolishly or cruel with something so delicate concerning both Alexander’s and his own heart.

“I suppose we will.” Magnus murmurs and he summons the flower crown to his hands and gently places it on Alexander’s brow. He admires how the lavender and mauve petals look against Alexander’s features and then he blinks.

Wisteria means many things but the colors Alexander asked for, the type of flower that he normally lets Magnus pick… they mean things.

Devotion that can transcend even death.

Longevity which implies immortality, though all things can die no matter how long they’ve lived.

“You’re a sly man when you want to be, Alexander.” Magnus murmurs, voice unrepentantly indulgent as Alexander smirks at him. There is a pleased turn to his lips and his eyes gleam with both relief and love and Magnus wants to disappear with him for at least a week.

There’s a cottage in the grove.

Nothing too elaborate but comfortable enough — Ragnor would never have helped maintain it otherwise — and it’s the perfect place for a simple weekend of intimacy. Magnus can teach Alexander to fish as he learned as a boy and he can watch Alexander with amusement when his darling shadowhunter shows off and shoots the fish with arrows and then dives for them.

Apparently, it was quite a habit for Alexander to go to the ocean in the dead of night with his runes activated, unseen by mundanes as he practiced hunting by shooting fish and then diving for them.

They can replant the small garden around the cottage and Magnus can teach and show Alexander some of the hybrids he and Cat and Ragnor have created and tended to over the centuries.

“Sometimes, my love—” and Magnus pauses, adding another layer of protective magic to both Alexander and his crown, “I cannot understand how we came to be.”

Alexander understands him, if the sudden sheen to his eyes means anything.

They’ve both been horribly broken by life and shattered by people supposed to love them yet somehow,despite all the odds they found and have kept and fought for each other.

It’s a beautiful but daunting mystery and one Magnus never needs solved.

After all, no matter how or why they met, it’s the two of them alone that have made this work.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #petal verse #in his wake petals fall #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #shadowhunters

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msviolacea · 10 months

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There's a lot of "oh, Baldur's Gate, isn't that game all about sex?" out there - I've seen it on the internet and heard it in conversation - which is fair, that's what the mainstream articles have been about, and let's not lie, most of us around here are all about the sexytimes with pretty people. (Me included, 100000%. And my "romance doesn't make an experience less interesting or serious" rant will be saved for another day.) But anyway ... it's Monday, and I'm avoiding work, so I figured I'd list as many things as I can think of right now that make the game amazing that have nothing to do with actually having sex with someone.

GINORMOUS areas to explore.

There are lore books literally everywhere. If you like reading random bits of in-universe texts, you'll be spoiled.

Have you ever played D&D and wished certain spells had more utility - like Grease, or Sleep, or Create/Destroy Water? You're in luck here! Anything that can either create a ground effect or temporarily distract/take enemies out is OP!

Animated, voiced cut scenes with nearly every single NPC you run across.

At the same time, most of them are not required. Some will give you interesting side quests, extra approval/disapproval from your companions, or interesting information that will give you more options in a future quest, but you don't have to spend hours talking to people unless that's your jam.

In character creation, you don't pick male/female as a gender. You pick from four body types (two small, two large, two with breasts/more slender, two more broad/slightly larger), three sets of pronouns (he/she/they), and several different sets of genitals - mix and match all three categories to your hearts' content. I'm sure there are other things they could have done, but it's the most inclusive character creator I've seen in a major game for sure.

The turn-based combat is a blessing for anyone who struggles with real time combat. Take your time, consider your options, look at things from all angles, sort through your spells and attacks to find the right one.

Or you can remember you picked up that barrel of smoke powder three rooms back, climb up into the rafters of the room, and chuck it into the fire pit in the middle of the room for maximum effect. I cannot overstate how fucking satisfying that is.

Big fucking tiefling horns. Of a variety of shapes!

Your female companions are the tanks/hearty warriors. Your male companions are all delicate fucking flowers, at least until you get Druid Daddy who can turn into a bear.

While optimizing your 4-person party to bring the usual configuration - one tank, one healer, a couple of DPS - is useful, it isn't always necessary. There are some fights where bringing four ranged options is a great idea, as long as you give them some survivability spells or plenty of potions. Sometimes bringing four people who can just barrel their way into a pile of ogres is satisfying. Mix it up!

Okay every companion thus far (I'm still only through act 1 yet, listen I have two games and my partner didn't feel well enough to continue the game where we're the farthest this weekend so I spent my time catching my solo game up) is absolute gold, no duds in the bunch, and the next few bullets will be one awesome thing about each one of them that has nothing to do with romance.

Astarion with the Thief subclass at level 3 literally cannot fail most lockpicking or trap disarming checks unless he rolls a nat 1. He is invisible when stealthed. He can one-shot most low level goblins with sneak attack arrows from range. He is a very bitchy fancy-lad Super Rogue.

Wyll is the Goodest Boy - the speed with which he goes from "I am oathbound to kill you demon!" to "well shit you're just a tiefling guess I'll deliberately fuck up my very dangerous warlock oath for you" is wonderful. He's noble and impetuous and wants to be more than a rich boy and gives nearly everyone the benefit of the doubt. I would die for him.

Karlach does the ADHD idle dance of "I could not stand still if you paid me all the gold in Baldur's Gate" and has the best puppy dog eyes. Also the story tie-in to her rage mechanics is really great and excellent storytelling.

Lae'zel is nigh unkillable if you give her the right stuff. Speccing her as Battlemaster is amazing for controlling the most powerful combatants on the field. Trip Attack has saved my ass so many times, you have no idea.

On paper, Gale should be absolutely insufferable. But somehow the writing and voice acting managed to hit just the right notes of humor and good nature and wizard geek. I'm very impressed.

Shadowheart is a very interesting combination of amoral/self-involved but also compassionate and I find myself fascinated by it. She clearly contains multitudes, and thus far the story is doing a good job of doling out pieces of her at a satisfying pace.

And speaking of interesting moral dichotomies, I absolutely adore that Halsin is both the good influence authority figure and also utterly ruthless when things run afoul of his strongly held belief system. Also thicc, broad-shouldered elf supremacy.

The tieflings you meet in Emerald Grove are directly tied to the D&D adventure "Descent Into Avernus" - as is Wyll! (And I'm sure it has a lot of context for Karlach's story as well, I haven't finished reading it yet.) I'm sure there's more when you get to the actual city of Baldur's Gate, but I'm not there yet. It's just fun to have that as an option to read for backstory about some of the game's characters and situations if you want. It's not required reading, though - cough, Bioware/Dragon Age, cough - everything that happens with them is perfectly understandable without any additional context!

The "Balanced" combat difficulty is a really good mix of fights that take a LOT of strategy and ones that can be easily cheesed.

Have you ever wanted to shove someone off a cliff even though you have like 8 strength? Listen, a 30% chance is STILL A CHANCE, and you have limited bonus action choices. TAKE YOUR SHOT.

... feel free to add your own. I'm still pretty early in the game and can't wait to get to more.

(edited for some slightly better phrasing about the character creation gender options, hopefully)

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #why did i make this?#is it mostly to avoid work?#yes probably #but still #i feel like a post is needed #to say 'you can have all this!'#(and also sexytimes!)

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thecursed-roleplay · 3 days

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"Spirits of old and new. Ancestors of the earth, air, fire, and water, heed our call! Satan, we call to you and offer our essence. A blood. By our will, to ascend into your great shadow!" – the book of AVETE SATANAE. Written in 1607 by Hadiyah Ravensfoot.

Part one.

The town of Salem was quiet. Too quiet. 6th of June, 1989. The moon, hanging half full in the sky, left it in an almost suspended state of disbelief. The air crackled with an electrified current, and not a single bird squawked or cawed. Quick as whip, zipping and zagging past, soaked into the soil of the earth, that electricity manifested. Gathering, preparing for something bigger and older than Salem itself. To every unaware citizen, it was a normal, late Friday night. But to those with the knowledge of what was coming, were aware of the magnitude of that eerie silence. Rumours of an unprecedented Ascension ceremony among the witches of Salem have spread like wildfire in the coming months, leading up to this festive night. The witches' secrets sometimes slipped through the grapevine, although they’d always been amazing craftswomen when it came to covering their tracks and their locations. Tonight, by the order of SATAN, the ascension will take place at The grand temple. All witches reaching the age of twenty-one years old must report to The Grand Temple by 10PM in order to fully submit to their full witch heritage. This event is set to be the largest and most powerful Ascension ever attempted, uniting witches from both Salem and the forbidden lands of Ipswich.

Part Two.

Torches illuminated ancient cobblestone that had been worn over centuries by thousands of witches that had come before them. The magnificent, the mundane, the failures and, of course, the Supremes. Each of the leaders, which consisted of, Octavia, Elara, Serephina & Selena wore garments that reflected their status, personality and a paid homage to their power: ethereal silks that seemed to shimmer as they walked, others in dark, imposing robes that absorbed the very shadows that surrounded them. To their left, a river of dark, shimmering figures moving with solemn purpose. Though there had always been stories told to them as children not to look. Shadows lived in certain powers of witches, able to enclose their victims if they saw fit. The temple loomed in the close distance, in single file, moving at what felt like a glacial pace. They walked towards either their salvation or their death.

Part Three.

Serephina's hooded black velvet robe concealed much of her face, the interior the colour of earth green to match her element. One of the four supremes to have been called by Satan to serve as his stewardesses as they guided the youth of their future. Pulling back the hood to reveal a wealth of brown hair, curls which had a mind of her own, she breathed in the scent of the place where she felt closest to Satan: the grand temple. Illuminating candles of all shapes and sizes flickered in a phantom breeze, no doubt created by one of the previous years witches, statues were cast into glowing, ethereal light, other parts drench in billowy shadows that only sparked further joy in her. What crept in those shadows? Prior to the ascension, where all the young witches and warlocks would come into their power, a gathering was held. The supremes had paved the way for the new the life cycle to begin. In order to appease their master, they had to bring forth enough witches to fulfill their qouta. Excited chatter of young witches broke her free from her thoughts as she began to meander through. Her name was spoken, some whispered and others gaped: it wasn't uncommon. A lot of her students were here tonight, some of whom she'd trained herself. They were calling this the most powerful year. Although she'd heard that many times before, too. However, her attention was snatched when the familiar voice of Lilith McCabe cleared through that momentary tranquility. Lilith's voice carried above the others, which wasn't particularly unusual, arrogance a common trait in her house. Her family had a reputation for being power hungry. "…and when I finally ascend, the McCabe name will be remembered, just as my mothers was," the surrounding girls, always playing to faux confidence. Serephina could've magically set her straight, as she'd done at her school many times. But tonight, she might just prove herself. "I’ll show everyone what true power looks like. My ancestors were among the first to serve our Dark Lord, and I will not let them down." Serephina stared long enough for the girls to feel her gaze, their heads turning in unison as she watched fear cloud those young, untrained eyes, red creeping into rosy cheeks. All about to flee to a space further away, especially Lilith, who had a defiance in the eyes, something that pierced right back when Serephina stared at her. Guess who'd regret that at school on Monday morning? Still, the atmosphere underwent a thick transformation. Peace transformed into something akin to wading through water, and she could almost taste magic in the air when she felt their arrival. Males, especially warlocks, carried a certain…quintessence. Serephina turned, as all the supremes did at the same time when the masked men took over a prominently female sanctum. The younger, untrained witches practically burst with glee — for them to be allowed to step over the border and into Salem was a mark in history. This was the first in centuries. It said as much when the girls squealed, like they were at a Guns 'N' Roses concert. Sere's face scrunched at the sound. For a woman in charge of a school for young witches, she really disliked them 60% of the time. The Ipswitch Coven, particularly, did something to the women in Salem. Serephina included. Dark clothes, long trench-like cloaks, leather pants, and masks that created anoniminty amongst them. This was a big deal, and while Serephina was meant to be talking to the women, reassuring them. Her eyes found one male in particular, one that wasn't hard to miss. Kieran Whitlock. With the arrival of the males, this would mark the most powerful ascension in Salem history. The joining of man and woman, powers combining, would feed itself back into the earth and create a tether. This would allow more magic to free flow, and find placement within their chosen witches. Those who made it would have access to more powers than the previous years, but those who didn't, would meet a demise in a way that was like being touched by god's hand: filthy, and full of shit.

Auburn locks spilled from beneath the mask as Kieran emerged at the scene, his eyes glinting with an unsettling determination. His kin, shadows of their father’s legacy, climbed out of SUVs—most of their sires now back home, wasting away in armchairs, lost to the world and themselves. But not Kieran. He seized power where and when he needed it. Damien had imparted to him the secret of eternal youth, strength, and immortality, a secret Kieran guarded with a relentless fervor. His wife, oblivious to his true nature, and his two daughters, unaware of the darkness that tainted their lineage, remained his unwitting pawns. It wasn't that he lacked love for them. He did. It's just that, at this moment, there were more crucial matters demanding his attention. His business, his wealth, and the newfound power he held in his grasp consumed his thoughts. With this power, he could attain everything he desired in life. Draped in the cloaks of their ancestors, a sinister blend of archaic tradition and the fashion of the current age, Kieran grasped his mask, adjusting its straps with a deliberate precision. With a glance at his Rolex, he sauntered towards the woods, following a path illuminated by the eerie glow of candles that flickered in the wind. Eyes on one Witch in particular, Kieran found a smirk slipping beneath his mask, "Serephina." He surveyed the surroundings for the others, but they all appeared to be slightly out of reach, making it kind-of impractical to extend his efforts for the night. "Nice night for it." The air was thick with tension, a reminder for him to proceed cautiously, lest he face not only expulsion from future ceremonies but also exile from Salem once more. His livelihood depended on his standing in Salem; he couldn't afford to jeopardize it. Moreover, Damien had emphasized in their brief phone conversation that he mustn't draw attention to himself. Three knocks diverted his attention to the pentagram at the center, where the Witches began to assemble. Kieran excused himself, joining a cluster of his coven members. If he had anticipated this much idle waiting, he would have brought along a camp stool.

Slowly, the circle formed, larger than the previous years, with the new editions. Trembling hands reached out to intertwine, as they'd been taught for years. There was one rule: all hands must stay attached unless a witch met their demise. If that was to happen, they were to grab the medallions in their pockets to ground themselves with the pre-woven magic from their supreme. The pentagram, painted in beautiful shades of red, looked like county lines as they reached in multiple direction. Offerings for their lord and saviour, Satan, for the Salem coven hd been placed in the fourth corner. Blood of an animal, a lock of hair, a personal affect and a goblet for Satan's drink. A ritual like no other. An ascension in his name for the supremes. And more power. It was always about power. There was a chime, one, two, three. "The mocking of the Holy Trinity," Elara stated, a permeant smirk etched onto those features. For a woman with the main element of wind, she certainly lay on the wilder side, and had been known to crack up a storm when she was in a mood. The supremes, in a line walked to their chairs where they'd observe the witches as they entered into their witchlinghood. In an ascension, every element would pass through a witches body, before three found permeant holds. One would hold the most power, while the other two would balance. Three in harmony. Three for the unholy trinity.

Moments later the ascenion began. As usual the begining was unpleasant for anyone involved, water, the calmer element, usually found its way to each witch first. She watched, in pleasure, as men and women alike attempted to keep down the water, or battled against invisible waves: their hands never letting go. Many survived, although a few were lost along the way. Their bodies lay slumped, forgotten, their souls condemed to the staircase leading downwards. Another soul offered, another victim claimed. Elara's hands came together to clap lightly, a devlish grin on her lips. "Now for the part I love most, fire." It wasn't always known the exact order, but in most cases, fire would came second. Burning, furious, light and warmth; some thought it to be the best power, others not so much: but for a woman in charge of wind, she liked to fuel the flames. "Come on, give us a show." Elara muttered under her breath. Slowly, it descended upon them, smoke puffing from between their lips, barking as their eyes turned into dancing flames. The true leader looking through their eyes as he scalded them from the inside out. But once voice in particular, a scream that sounded like blood curdling ripped through the center of the pentagram, drawing the heads of the spectators. Lilith McCabe.

ψ Unlike her sister, who reveled in the spectacle of flames engulfing a Witch during their ascension day, she found no pleasure in it. Watching a Witch burn from within, knowing the toll it took on their essence, was a grim reminder of the destructive power of her element. As a field archaeologist, she had spent countless hours in the woods, intimately acquainted with fire's wild and unpredictable nature. Even with control over it coursing beneath her skin, she couldn't shake the primal fear it instilled. All Witches knew the danger it posed if left unchecked—it was their ultimate undoing. And fire, invariably, proved to be the most unforgiving element, consuming all in its path. "Control it! Control it!" Octavia observed in horror as Lilith became consumed by the flames, her urgent cries to regain control falling upon deaf ears. The unraveling of the situation was evident, and Octavia turned to her fellow Supremes with a command: "Save them." With a sense of urgency, she leaped into action, racing towards the witches struggling to contain Lilith. But before she could reach them, another piercing scream erupted from Lilith, accompanied by a violent upheaval of the earth that sent her hurtling through the air and Black Phillip, rearing . The tremors reverberated throughout the temple, the surrounding woods, and the heart of Salem itself, signaling the catastrophic consequences of the unleashed power. With a groan, a cough, and the spitting of blood, Octavia struggled to rise, noticing the bone in her leg protruding as she did so. Despite the agony, she clenched her jaw, determined to fulfill her duty. Ignoring the screams urging her to stop, she limped over to Lilith, a sense of urgency driving her forward. With a swift, decisive motion, Octavia snapped off the jutting bone fragment and thrust it into Lilith's neck. As she did, the flames finally grasped hold of her, having been kept at bay until that moment, engulfing her in searing agony. Her screams echoed through the air as she burned from the outside in, until she finally collapsed, charred and spent, a wisp of smoke rising from her body as it crumpled beside Lilith's.

The Aftermath.

The surrounding temple fell into an eerie silence. The flames had faded to smoke, and Octavia's screams had diminished to muffled whimpers. Selene collapsed to her knees in front of her sister, her hands desperately attempting to cool the searing, tar-like residue that now coated her charred skin. She knew it wouldn't be enough; a skilled healer was needed to save her. But until they could get her back to the Sanctuary, she would do whatever she could to ease Octavia's suffering. After all, Octavia had sacrificed herself for them. Remembering her mother's words, Selene leaned down to her friend's charred ear and whispered a solemn vow: that the only flames to claim her life would one day be those of her Master.

TL;DR:

The Witches had assembled for the first dual Ascension, a monumental event aimed at merging the powers of the Salem and Ipswich covens and achieving the most powerful ascension ever seen. However, during the ceremony, a witch lost control while channeling the element of fire, resulting in a catastrophic event. Three witches lost their lives, and Octavia, the Supreme, sustained grave injuries and is now in a healing coma awaiting recovery. The aftermath of the ceremony reverberated through the town of Salem, creating an unprecedented tremor that many likened to an earthquake. Unbeknownst to the Witches, the turmoil created a fissure at the base of the temple, where nearly two centuries ago, a group of Witches had imprisoned a faction of male witches who had been siphoning power from their coven members. These male witches, now transformed into wraiths, have been unleashed. Their mission is to inflict pain and misery upon the descendants of their captors and anyone else who crosses their path.

NEED TO KNOW:

The Wraiths’ Release: The wraiths, now freed from their tomb, will plague the dreams of those who encounter them, inflicting terror and chaos. Harnessing the Wraiths: These spectral beings can be harnessed for dark purposes, posing a significant temptation for those who seek to wield their formidable power. Ongoing Threat: The release of the wraiths signifies an ongoing threat that must be addressed to prevent further devastation and to restore balance to the realm. These elements are crucial as they set the stage for the battles and moral dilemmas to come, marking a pivotal moment in the struggle between the forces of light and darkness.

GROUP SPECIFIC:

Witches: Currently unaware of the Wraiths' release, the witches are experiencing tormenting dreams. The Wraiths are particularly enraged by the male witches' participation in the Ascension, and as a result, even the men are not spared from these haunting visions. Vampires: Rare human blood is crucial for the ceremony needed to reseal the Wraiths. You may be asked to assist the witches in obtaining it, leaving you with the choice of whether to help them or not. Werewolves (Dogs of War): The spell to imprison the Wraiths is contained in a Grimoire currently in the possession of the pack leader, displayed at the Slaughtered Lamb—a place once dismissed as a mere tourist spot charging $1 for a tour behind the bar's black curtain. The witches, unaware of the book's critical contents, are searching for the missing Grimoires, not knowing that the very spell they need is right under their noses. Hunters: With extensive knowledge of the witches' history with the Wraiths, hunters are also aware that the werewolves possess the Grimoire containing the crucial spell. They are regarded as the foremost experts on the lore of witches and wraiths. Humans: The Wraiths are invading your dreams as well. At present, all you know is that a massive tremor, similar to an earthquake, has rocked the town, and you are occupied with the cleanup efforts in its aftermath.

FINAL NOTE:

We will let you know when each new sub-plot drops: i.e. Witches discovering its Wraiths, etc. FOR NOW, have fun with the mini earthquake and the future nightmares that will start plaguing your characters. ALSO: important fact NOT all plot drops are mandatory if you really dont want a wraith visiting your character you might have purchased a 'dream catcher' from one of the occult stores in town.

All threads may continue, but please ensure you timestamp them appropriately.

Members, you may now react to 'The Ascension.'

If you have any questions regarding any of the above, please contact the main. Happy Plotting!

#plot drop #ft. selene #ft. elara #ft. kieran #ft. serephina #ft. lilith mccabe #ft. octavia #tw: death #tw: burns #tw: gore #tw: fractures #event: 002 #event: the ascension

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hydropyro · 7 months

Text

Not Dead

CW: Violence

The House was almost uncomfortably quiet when he emerged. His copy lay dead in a bloody pile near the still-open portal. He gazed upon the cambion with a tinge of sorrow. Seeing his own face, even the face of his bestial form, crushed and dead, was disheartening. With a wave of his hand, the portal closed. He would have to get rid of that pesky Helsik; just allowing all manner of creatures to ‘visit’ unannounced.

He had a deal with her, and they had made many mutually beneficial deals in the past, but, like most mortals, she was replaceable. It had been Helsik herself who had arranged his meeting with the wizard that had created and cast the spell for him in return for souls to feed their phylactery.

At least the souls had not gone to waste.

Raphael straightened his tunic and stalked out of the entry hall. The band of heroes had made a mess of his House. Dead hell beasts littered the floor, blood splattered on all the walls. Parts of his House were still burning, and other parts were soaking wet, no doubt from the desperate mortals trying to douse the flames. He chuckled quietly to himself and stepped over a lump of flesh so disfigured he couldn’t even identify the creature that it had once been.

Down the stairs, he heard a familiar voice muttering to herself, and his heart leapt in his chest. He had cut his loss when the heroes had first stormed his House. He’d already lost his warlock and commanding general – losing her was terribly heartbreaking – but a worthy sacrifice.

She paced around the table, wading listlessly through puddles of blood. So alone and lost in their big House. Why was she so alone? Why had she stayed?

On his way down the stairs into the dining hall, he lifted the lid of a liquor cabinet, poured himself a glass of fine whiskey, an ancient bottle from Waterdeep, and took a sip. He continued into the hall. She was so lost in her own thoughts, muttering to herself, that she didn’t notice his approach.

“Did our dear incubus survive?” Raphael asked, staring into the still-burning fire in the hearth. Hope jumped and whirled on him, her complexion pale.

“We killed you!” She shrieked and rounded the table side opposite him, putting the large wooden round between them. “You’re dead!”

Raphael covered his mouth with his free hand, stifling the laugh that bubbled up within him. He had seen her in the depths of wonderous pain and devastating pleasure, but never had he seen fear on her face so visceral. “Am I?” he asked, chuckling, unable to completely withhold his amusement but able to control it enough that it wasn’t so explosive.

He took a seat at the cluttered table, pushing the wing of a dead imp out of the way so that he could set down his glass.

“How are you here?” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper, and she covered her mouth as if she were afraid of speaking too loudly.

“Did you really think I was gone?” He asked. He frowned at her. “Is that why you sulk so? Were you grief-stricken, dear Hope?”

She didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure that she could, even if she had wanted to. Raphael wondered what she was thinking, standing there, petrified, staring at him as if he might blip out of existence or attack her. All in good time –

“Your heroes did a decent job. We have quite a mess to clean up, and now with no helping hands—,” Raphael gestured around himself, falling quiet so the silence of the House could weigh on them.

“How?” Her voice was shaking, and he saw her eyes beginning to glisten with tears. “How is this possible?”

He laughed at her again, though he felt a little sorry for her terrible confusion. “Did you think all my debtors just disappeared? Maybe my death allowed their poor souls to be whisked off into paradise?” Raphael stood, slowly stalking around the table toward Hope, but, of course, she kept the table between them. “They were taken as payment, my dear, for an incredibly powerful spell.

“That devil you fought only seemed like me. Incredibly powerful transmutation magic. I had hoped to reward the fiend once the battle concluded with a station in my ranks – but it seems the place is still yet to be filled.

“And with the orthon gone,” Raphael gave an annoyed sigh. “He was so promising. But, not irreplaceable.”

It amused him to see her jumping over the bodies that littered the floor around the wide table as he continued his pursuit, easily stepping over those same obstacles. He moved slowly. If he wanted to catch her, he could have. “Come, Hope, I’m extending an olive branch.” He stopped; his back to the hearth.

“You’re dead!” Hope screamed. Maybe she hoped that if she screamed it loud enough, it would become true.

He took another step toward her, holding up his hands. “Calm down. You’re clearly quite distressed.”

She was rooted in place when he finally caught up to her, putting a hand on her small shoulder. Anger burned in him for a long moment – scheming wench – but, then, he admired her tenacity. Her ambition. He always had.

He put his hand behind her, splaying his long fingers across the dwarf woman’s shoulder blades and led her over to the table to retrieve his drink before moving them on through the House. He passed the whiskey to Hope, inviting her to drink, but she only dutifully gripped the glass in both hands. More bodies – more blood – more fire. What a mess they’d made.

He turned into the archive and looked around at the empty pedestals. They’d taken everything. Greedy mortals. He smirked to himself. Replaceable. He led Hope to a short bench along one of the side walls and sat down beside her. She was stiff, and her eyes were empty. She followed his lead, as she had done so many times.

“Do you know why I maintain my cambion form?” Raphael asked. He ran one hand over the back of the other to indicate his hardy crimson, veined flesh. “It’s not because I am so fond of it. Cambions – lowly creatures.”

Her warm, brown eyes searched his. Nothing remained but that same, animalistic fear. It was unsettling. He had removed all of her skin at one point, and she had never looked so afraid as she did now. Perhaps this was the day she broke. Maybe this is what it had taken to finally have her.

“I keep my cambion form because I haven’t forgotten how far I’ve come. I will never forget. Bastard son of an Archdevil, not really a true devil myself – every time I see myself as I was first formed, I have a sense of pride in what I’ve accomplished.

“And people underestimate cambions. Lesser devils, hardly even on the totem.

“But I’m much more than what which I began. And there was no chance I was going to risk everything I’ve worked for on misplaced hubris in the final hour – so close to victory.” He could almost feel the Crown in his grasp, and closed his hands as though he were holding it. “Those heroes – my favorite clients – I’m not easy to impress, as you well know.

“I couldn’t risk killing them; they are worth far too much to me. And I would be foolish to think it impossible that they’d have a chance. I have no intention of ‘going down with my ship’, as it were. Only fools with no ambition let their pride get in the way of their later triumph.

“First, they bested my general. Then, they rescued a godchild and cleared a century-long shadow curse set upon the land by the Goddess of Loss. They slew the Chosen, and aspect, of Myrkul, God of Death, and with nary a tenday’s rest, took on and destroyed the Chosen of Bane, God of Tyranny, and Bhaal, God of Murder.” Raphael laughed. Hells, did he adore those wretched mortals.

He put a hand on his chest. “This is worth too much to me, as are they.” He stroked his other hand down Hope’s arm on her other side, pulling her closer to him on the short bench. “As are you. I could never leave you alone.”

She didn’t respond and didn’t move for a very, very long time. He began to worry that he’d truly, finally broken her. He had plenty of time to wait for her to come out of this petrified stupor his undeath had put her in. As much as he yearned to have her, some part of him hoped that his little mouse hadn’t broken yet.

Maybe if he took her to watch the mighty heroes' final stand against the perverted monstrosity that the Netherese Crown had created from the elder brain, she would cheer up. He had high hopes for their success.

Soon after, once he had the crown himself, he would have an infernal throne to sit upon while he waited for her to return to her lively, fiery self.

#baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael #hope #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic writing #i’m obsessed #raphael bg3

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words-4u · 2 years

Text

out with the old, in with the new - n.'p'.t

➩ read part 2: here

pairing: natahsa 'phoenix' trace x fem!reader (hangman x ex!reader)

wc: 1.5k

a/n: I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THIS IS. I JUST SAW THIS GIF AND GOT INSPIRED SO ENJOY XX

top gun: maverick masterlist

call sign = phantom

a couple of days ago you received a phone call from warlock ordering you back to north island navy base because there was a serious mission and he was creating an elite group of fighter pilots to take part in it.

you immediately accepted (it was an order so you really didn't have much choice) and began packing your things. there was no doubt in your mind that hangman was gonna be there. he was one of the best pilots you've ever known, second to you of course and they would be dumb not to have him there.

you pulled up to your old stomping grounds aka the hard deck and the nostalgia hit you. you tried not to let it get to you because all you wanted to do was get inside and see who else was involved with this secret mission.

hangman, coyote, fanboy, payback and bob were all near the pool table chatting amongst themselves when you walked up to them.

phoenix was in conversation with bob but stopped and did a double-take as you approached. "and who is she?"

"oh god," hangman muttered.

you rolled up to the group and quickly noticed everyone else donned their beige uniforms which you have clearly forgone. you had just arrived from the airport so your clothes were more casual.

phoenix unashamedly trailed her eyes down your body taking a bit more time appreciating your exposed legs.

"ladies and gentlemen, welcome the one and only phantom," hangman said in the most sarcastic fake excited voice.

"jake..." you said matching his fake excitement. "i haven't seen you in like what? 2 years?"

"and yet it still wasn't long enough," he grinned.

"that's what she said," you and phoenix said at the same time causing you both to break out in a fit of laughter. when you caught your breath you stepped closer to the stunning brunette that was able to lighten your mood in just seconds.

"and you are..."

"phoenix," she stuck her hand out which you gladly took keeping intense eye contact with her.

"ahem," hangman cleared his throat desperately wanting to get rid of the growing sexual tension between you and the brunette.

"so you two seem well acquainted," fanboy motioned his head towards you and the cocky blond. "is there something we should know?"

you quickly looked to hangman. "well hangman... is there?"

everyone was standing around waiting to hear just how and why there was an underlying hostility between the two of you.

"y/n–erm i mean phantom was my girlfriend for almost two years," he spoke trailing off near the end.

you were taken aback at how easy it was from his to say it now when that was all you wanted 2 years ago. "so i guess it's easier to claim me now than it was back then huh"

"look, i really don't–" he started to rise from his comfortable seat on the pool table.

you held your hands up. "hey, whatever. i'm over it. what's done is done right?"

now people were really confused but you didn't care. all you wanted was to get an ice-cold whiskey in your hand.

"i'm gonna go to the bar," phoenix piped up trying to diffuse the weird energy that entered the space. "anyone want anything?"

"i'm coming with," you said already making your way there.

once you ordered your drink, phoenix took up space next to you. her forearms leaned on the bartop and as she looked at you briefly before looking away. "why do i get the feeling that there's more to it than both of you are letting on?"

"because there definitely is but i would rather not discuss it with 7 uniformed pilot fighters watching like it's some pay-per-view entertainment."

your drink was handed to you and you threw it back without hesitation.

"listen, i know we just met but if you wanna talk, i'm here... well for the next three weeks anyway,"

you sat in silence for a few moments as she nursed her beer.

"we met at top gun and we were together for a year and a half," you began. "i–i was so in love with him that besides training and exams he consumed my every thought. we were good together but he never wanted to go public and i get all the reasons why, hell, i even agreed to it at the start but a year went by and still not a soul knew about us or what we had. he continued flirting shamelessly with other women to keep up this facade and it grew exhausting. i felt like his dirty little secret and i hated it so i left."

"wow," was the first thing phoenix uttered. "i knew he was an idiot but not this much of an idiot."

scoffing, you played around with the ice in your glass. "but like i said i am over him and i am beyond ready for this mission."

phoenix was quiet before she spoke "can i say something?" to which you nodded.

"i would never hide you and excuse my boldness but i mean look at you! if you were mine, i'd show you off any chance i get."

for the second time that evening, phoenix was able to make you laugh while simultaneously making you feel the most intense set of butterflies you've felt in a long time.

"thank you," you said reaching for her arm and squeezing it lightly. you could feel her flex her bicep slightly and it was the hottest thing you've ever seen. "also the second part of what you said can easily be arranged."

"oh it can?" she smirked.

"i mean yeah if you play your cards right," you shrugged playfully.

"noted," she said pressing her thigh against yours.

hangman with his impeccable timing decided yet again to interrupt the moment.

"phantom, can we talk?"

you looked at him and noticed how serious he'd gotten from the boisterous person he was a couple hours ago. "sure..."

as you got up you turned to phoenix. "order me another one, i'll be right back."

hangman led you out the bar and onto its wide porch. he stood in front of you with his hands shoved in his front pant pockets while your back was against the railing for support. it was a safe distance but still intimate, one that slightly crossed the line of professionalism to anyone watching and someone was watching: phoenix.

"you pulled me out here to talk so talk," you spoke crossing your arms.

"i think i owe you an apology," he stated.

"you think?" you laughed dryly. "and what it took a couple years to have that thought?"

"i'm trying here, y/n and let's not forget who left whom, " he said.

"yeah well, jake i needed you try two years ago," you responded. "and of course, i left you! all i ever wanted was to be seen and i felt like i never was with you. like seriously what was it? were you ashamed of me or something? was that it?"

"no not all," he rubbed both of his hands over his face. "i swear to you i wanted to but i just didn't want us to be the talk of our class. i didn't want people to ridicule you and have our relationship overshadow your experience as one of the few female graduates of top gun in our year but trust me when i say that what we had... it meant a lot to me and i just need you to know that, okay?" he placed his hand over his heart in a bid to show you he was being his most genuine self.

you stared him down before coming to the conclusion that he was being sincere with his apology. the guilt was written all over his face. plus it was easier to forgive him than to hold animosity towards him when you both could be flying one of the most dangerous missions ever in just three weeks' time. "yeah, okay," you said kicking at invisible rocks on the deck.

hangman would never admit it but he still loved you, a part of him always will. it was the same for you as well. there's no denying that you will always care deeply for the man standing in front of you but you could never see a future with him, not with everything he put you through and especially not with phoenix who was able to make you feel alive again after spending only a few in minutes in her presence.

"so... i guess it's out with the old, in with the new?" he tilted his head towards the bar clearly talking about the gorgeous brunette waiting for you inside.

"shut up," you shoved his shoulder gently. "listen i–i actually like her so don't mess it up for me!"

"i can be your wingman if you want," hangman offered with a gentle smile.

"i think i'd rather die thank you," you joked.

he guffawed at that. "yeah i knew you'd say that now c'mon, let's get you back to your woman before she thinks we're rekindling what we had."

you faked gagged. "i possibly couldn't think of anything worse," and this time it was hangman who shoved your shoulder playfully.

you re-entered the bar a new person, a lighter version of yourself after the much-needed conversation with hangman. you didn't think you needed it until it happened but you were glad you cleared the air with him so you could put 100% of your energy into making phoenix yours.

TAGGED: @cloudbasic, @natasharomanoffisbaebby

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captainkirkk · 2 years

Text

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

ATLA

Perfection is Overrated by JaggedCliffs (+ podfic) (NOTE: I've recced this fic before and I'll rec it again. When I die, I want to be buried with this fic)

For his first thirteen years, Zuko was raised in a palace. And yet somehow, it's the three years outside the Fire Nation that seem to count more – at least to the palace staff, who act like he's been raised by fox-wolves.

At first, this only annoys Zuko.

Until he begins to think that the Fire Nation needs more than a formerly-banished prince.

a brush of fingers, a kick of shins by lesmiserablol (+ podfic)

"Okay, I’ve been thinking all day, and here’s my idea,” Toph tells Zuko on their way to dinner. “You’re so sure he’s not into you, so I’m going to help you out and give you a gentle nudge every time he flirts so that you notice it.”

“Okay,” Zuko says slowly. He doubts it will be necessary, he and Sokka have been best friends for over five years now and that is probably all that Sokka thinks of him as. A good friend. “I don’t know if it’ll come up, but if it does...just don’t make it obvious, yeah?”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” Toph smiles. Zuko knows her fairly well, he knows he should be worried at that, but he just follows her into the dining hall.

Stranger Things

who wants to live forever? by starbeyy

In which Steve Harrington has two nightmares: The one he has about the fire at the Starcourt Mall every time he falls asleep, and the one where Eddie Munson visits him at Family Video to ask him for a favor.

shape it up (get it straight) by fivecenturiesverse (+ podfic)

Mike doesn't know when he started caring why Steve and Eddie are friends now, but Dustin has made him curious. Eddie and Steve were enemies before, sort of. So why are they now best friends? They've just got to do a bit of surveillance to work this puzzle out. If Mike accidentally finds out he has feelings for his best friend along the way then... well, shit.

“At least I’m not using binoculars.” Mike shoots a derisive look over at Dustin. “Like we’re not in the middle of the high street, if they spot us how are you going to explain away those, huh?”

“Bird watching,” says Dustin. “My new hobby.”

Lucas punches him on the arm. “God you’re so fucking stupid.”

“You gave them to me!”

Shadowhunters

Portable Magic by smilebackwards

Magnus may go slightly overboard helping Alec set up for the book club gathering.

Technically, perhaps, he didn’t need to create a signature cocktail or barter a favor to Raphael for O neg blood for the vampires or source the biscotti directly from Italy. But hospitality is important and these are Alec’s friends. He wants to make a good impression.

Or: Alec is in a Downworld book club and Magnus finds this unaccountably fascinating.

count the ways by smilebackwards

"I know the nephilim have some truly skewed perspectives on our history and culture but have you ever seen anything like this before?” Magnus holds out the book, open to Warlock Courting Traditions. The text only takes up half a page, a mystifying run-on list of odd and impossible tasks. It’s formatted almost like poetry and his dear, pedantic Alexander has turned it into a checklist, penciled lightly down the margin.

Ragnor snorts into his tea.

“Oh,” Catarina says, looking at the book. “That."

In somno veritas (In sleep lies the truth) by lawsofchaos (+podfic)

Jace blinks, peering at the loft in vague stupefaction. “This,” and Alec’s parabatai’s voice sounds like he’s dragging each noise out from his exhausted mind and forcing it out before he can forget what word he just discovered. “Isn’t the Institute?” The final phrase comes out as a question.

Alec tilts his head in puzzlement, glancing at his brother as if wondering how he could possibly consider that Alec had taken them there instead of here. “No?”

Alec’s head moves back to level and he narrows his eyes instead. “We said we were going home after patrol.”

The ‘ergo, we are home now’ wasn’t said, but it was obvious in implication.

bloom by smilebackwards

Alec loves watching Izzy get flowers but he thinks he would have liked, just once, to know what it felt like for someone to send him something so bright and sweet, frivolous, just because they cared.

#the shadowhunter fics made me SO soft #thank you to fic authors for making me feel incredibly single #now i know how isabelle lightwood feels #weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #shadowhunter recs #stranger things recs #atla recs #podfic available

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raillue · 7 months

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here’s a random doodle while I ramble more in depth about the winged Crow au I have currently bouncing around the inside of my brain

So to start with, I’d imagine the wings came about as a weird manifestation of the Light when Crow was revived (I am aware this is so not canon accurate but hush it’s an au ;]). With that being said if he was unfortunate enough to be revived during the Red War instead, they would be unusable, basically dead weights. Not paralysed completely but definitely not able to fly.

Another thing is that when he was first revived, despite not remembering anything regarding his past, he definitely knew that he did not have wings before. So there was a lot to get used to. Oh yea also Glint definitely thought he fucked something up during the revival process, poor guy. For a while Crow would end up crashing into things or knocking items over with his wings.

While he was under Spider’s leadership, Spider clipped his wings as another way to control him, just like when he planted that bomb in Glint’s shell. (fuck Spider, all my homies hate Spider) So it was a while before he even got to fly, also since no one has had wings before (minus getting advice from Solar wielding Warlocks like Osiris) Crow basically had to teach himself to fly.

While living in the Reef there were a lot of rumours circulating around Guardians working in the Reef of a winged Guardian/humanoid. The ones who saw his face were a LOT more freaked out as they saw it as Uldren back with fucking wings.

We all know Hunters are already sneaky menaces, now give one wings and the ability to fly and it gets even more chaotic.

Also if anyone wants to do their own thing with this au/concept, go ahead! I doubt i’m the first that’s thought of Crow with wings. And if you do create something I’d love to see it!

Also ALSO this isn’t related to Destiny but I have plans for an Omori animatic :] (got it all planned out, just waiting impatiently for Procreate Dreams to come out in a few days so I can animate) so if you’re interested in that I’ll be sharing stuff for it at some point. It’s actually been quite a while since I’ve animated something properly (multiple years lmao) so i’m excited to get back into it.

#destiny 2 #destiny #destiny the game #destiny fanart #crow destiny #destiny crow #destiny 2 fanart #oh yea also feel free to send any asks about this au #i’ll do my best to answer them with what i’ve come up with so far #raillue’s sketchbook #winged crow au

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cuubism · 8 months

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20 questions for fic writers!

tagged by @arialerendeair :) wow this is an ambitious game XD

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

162

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

906,535. I'm trying to hit 1 mil by the end of the year so wish me luck 😂

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Basically just Shadowhunters and Sandman with occasionally forays into others.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

a lucky break(out) (2,457), mind & heart, body & soul (2,112), don't mess with the high warlock of brooklyn (1,723), In Waking Dreams (1,141), and Complex Mathematics (1,068). Kind of a surprising spread tbh.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always, though it can take a while. It just feels nice to do.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Certainly After Life. Magnus died in that one.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmm, most of my fics have reasonably happy endings. The Silly Rabbit series is very happy. The chaotic whumptober fic Kidnapping Your Heart is basically just crack so I'd consider that one pretty happy too 😂

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Only rarely, and usually it's on fics that I'd considered relatively unobjectionable, like MHBS, which is funny. The more fucked up stuff doesn't get hate but the stuff I thought was casual and mainstream does 😂 dunno why

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, though it's something I've had to get gradually more comfortable with over several years. With each fic I become further corrupted and venture into kinkier material. This can only be a good thing. I don't know exactly what we mean by what kind... I like when it's heavy on the feelings. Especially if the feelings are unspoken.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Usually no, but I threw Aziraphale and Crowley into Nightingales for one chapter. If I did ever write more crossovers it would probably only be between canons that seem to naturally meld together (like Good Omens and Sandman).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Well not that I know of [knock on wood]

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yup, Points of View was translated into Russian. Very cool.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Never in the direct sense of both contributing writing to the same document. I don't think that method would work well for me. But @magnusbae is my perennial brainstorming buddy who's crafted the backend story and vibes of so many of my fics, especially dreamling. I've done the same with @silver-lily-louise for some malec stories before too.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I don't know if I have one. Malec maybe for sheer longevity. I'm usually obsessed with one thing at a time and then just not obsessed with it at all at other times XD

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oof. I'd still like to finish my malec wips XD I begin to fear that I won't, though, since some would be so long and I've made so little progress on them this year. Maybe, though.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue (also my favorite part to write). Creating weird concepts, magics, functions of the world and so on. Language & style.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Sometimes I have to remind myself to do character introspection. I'll get through an entire scene and realize I haven't remarked at all on what the POV character is feeling, shown it externally maybe but not had them actually reflect internally. It comes from a combination of two things: spending a while in school writing film scripts and internalizing that writing style (all visuals no internal narration), plus just being kinda dissociated from my own feelings most of the time 😂 my characters aren't feeling shit because neither am I. I also tend to overcomplicate my plots and get myself mired in them, it's the number one reason I get stuck on fics or don't manage to finish them.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've only done it very very sparingly and I'm careful to get it right. Only used if it makes specific contextual sense.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Funnily enough it was probably also malec back when I was a teenager, before Shadowhunters show even existed, though I never posted anything then.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh gosh. For malec probably still dissolution. For dreamling I'm extremely fond of Deja vu, Deja connu, it really pushed me outside the bounds of the types of stories I usually gravitate towards, in a good way. At the moment more of my 'favs' are probably in sandman simply because changing fandoms forced me to up my game and expand my comfort zone, which was a good thing. I also really like how Patron Saint came out, I hadn't been that happy with a one shot in a while, and writing from Death's POV really helped me grasp her character better. One of my only fics that had a platonic relationship at its core, too.

tagging @pellaaearien, @tharkuun, @im-not-corrupted if you feel compelled to do 20 whole questions XD

#every time i have to tag people for one of these things i forget the existence of every single person i've ever spoken to in my life #tag games

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