#destined to lute

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: In which your friends are idiots who think gallivanting around a haunted castle surrounded by lava is a great idea. And then there's a dragon.

ie. Or, I watched Shrek this afternoon and could not stop thinking about the memes of the Prefect being Donkey and Malleus as the Dragon.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

‘Treasure beyond your wildest dreams!’ Ace said.

‘Knowledge long since lost to time!’ Deuce corrected.

‘Yeah, okay, but what is it,’ you asked.

And neither of them had an answer.

Abandoned castles suspended over a sea of bubbling lava were not your preferred holiday destination. You’d told Ace this several times. You’d begged, pleaded, to please just be normal for once. But noooo. Both the snarky, ginger, bastard and the other half of his singular brain cell had apparently decided that suicide ala boiling rocks sounded like a perfectly lovely plan for your Saturday evening.

“I’m just saying,” you huffed as the rope bridge swung worryingly beneath your feet, “taverns are a thing. Faires. Market runs. Casual side quests that won’t wind up with us being flambeed alive.”

“But there’s treasure!” Ace complained, the muddled light off the lava below illuminating his pout in a way that made it look especially punchable. “I heard there’s this really awesome magical sword! Or maybe it was a shield or something—”

“Or something,” you grit out. “What if it’s a book, huh? You can’t even read.”

“We can try!” Deuce returned, a spark of that familiar determination zipping through his blue eyes.

“Or we can sell it,” Ace said, which was certainly the more likely option of the two.

One of the rickety, wooden, slats cracked beneath the low heel of your boot and tumbled down into the lava below. Maybe it hit the gurgling pool of death with a hiss, or a whump, or some other cool sound. But all you could hear was the ringing in your ears.

“Oh my god. I’m going to die.”

“I mean, maybe,” Ace shrugged. “But at least you’ll have a cool new sword propped up at your grave or something.”

You managed to make it all the way to the other side of the horrible death bridge without plummeting to your doom. Except now you were standing at the foot an equally horrifying castle. It was massive—grand on a scale that seemed entirely impossible for something constructed in the heart of a volcano. Its dozens of ebony spires clawed at the sky. The walls crawled with grey ivy and thickets of thorns so dense that you couldn’t see even the barest hint of brick beneath. It looked evil in the way that cursed tombs felt evil—eternal, and still, and oppressive. Like a creature in its own right rather than just an agglomeration of black stone.

Ace drew his sword and Deuce readied his axe. You sighed and plucked at the strings of your stupid fucking lute, and wished once more that you’d had the foresight all those moons ago to take the cushy internship position Lord Crewel had tried to offer you. But, no. You’d wanted to be an adventurer.

The massive double doors of the entrance swung open with an eerie groan. A pair of stern looking gargoyles stood guard as the three of you cautiously made your way into the castle. You swore you could feel their eyes following you—that you’d seen them flex jagged claws into their stone perches in an aborted attempt to dive after you.

The inside of the looming fortress was no more welcoming than out. Dark, emerald, stained glass windows lined the walls—smothering any of the warmer light from the volcano and tinting the entire hall a sickly green-grey. The stone floors and walls were elaborately carved with the faded stories of dynasties long since passed, but what had once surely been immaculate craftsmanship had shifted and cracked with age—crushing floors into tight slopes and littering already narrow walkways with heavy debris.

“We just have to find the tallest tower,” Ace hummed, swiping at a few dangling trails of thorns with the blunted edge of his blade. “And then the highest room in that.”

“The treasure is never in the highest room in the tallest tower,” you complained. “You just heard that in a drinking song once.”

“Is that true?” Deuce frowned, looking terribly betrayed.

“No way!” Ace snipped. “I told you! An old crone read my fortune in her bone dice, and she said to always check the highest room in the tallest tower! Because that’s where I’d find my greatest treasure!”

“Maybe the greatest treasure is the friends we’ve made along the way?” Deuce suggested helpfully.

“No.”

So you split off from a grouchy Ace and dejected Deuce to try and find some stairs. Every room in this stupid castle was swimming in so many shadows that you could hardly tell right from left, let alone if there were any kinds of secret doors or passageways that may lead to an equally secret tower. The chamber you’d found yourself in now was gigantic, and each tentative step you took echoed discordantly through the ashy gloom. You kicked miserably at a loose rock and it skittered off into the darkness with a dull thunk. And then something… odd, began to happen. That darkness began to move—to rise and unfurl like a great set of wings on a beast. And—oh. Oh no.

“Would you look at that,” Ace whistled under his breath, neck craned all the way back as he squinted at what was most definitely the tallest of all the towers this creepy castle had to offer. “Guess what, nonbelievers. I found the—”

“DRAGON!”

Whoosh went the great swathe of emerald fire as it exploded down the barren hallway and nipped at your heels. You dove out into the open courtyard just in time to avoid being roasted alive, and the gargantuan monster behind you let out a roar fit to shake the earth. A quick tuck-and-roll left you crouched behind a fallen pillar, and the dragon’s bright, green, glower turned on you and your garbage hiding spot with a rumbling snarl. Its rows of sharp, white, teeth closing just above your head—missing its mark by barely a hair’s width.

“Gotcha!” Deuce snarled, his armored fists dragging the dragon away by its tail. Or, well, tried to. Because the dragon was a hundred feet long at least, and your blue haired friend probably looked like nothing more than a pesky rat darting between its feet. It turned and snapped at him irritably, taking a great, big, step forward in a bid to get a firmer stance to attack. You threw yourself in the other direction to avoid being trampled.

“Go!” Ace called, charging in from the other side. “Quick!”

Because at the end of the day, they were still both your brave, tanky, warrior, friends. And you were just a very, very, squishy bard who really would not fare well against a particularly motivated goose, let alone a dragon. So you skidded through the rubble and onto your feet, and started to sprint back into the castle’s halls—hoping maybe you’d be able to find a bit more cover.

There was a great clatter, and both Ace and Deuce yelped. You looked back hurriedly to see the pair of them clutching onto the dragon’s tail for dear life as it whipped them back and forth through the ash and debris cluttering the ground. With one, final, great, sweep, the dragon pitched them into the air and sent them careening through the roof of that ‘tallest tower.’ You muttered a hasty incantation and the sparkling outlines of soft feathers danced along your fingers. You hoped you weren’t too far. You were probably too goddamn far. But you hummed frantically under your breath nonetheless and entreated your middling magic to give them a soft landing.

And then there was another wave of green hellfire raining down over your head and you turned and ran.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—

Even if you’d been a champion sprinter, there was little good it would have done you against a beast whose stride was longer than you were tall. You made it back into some hall or other, and into another cavernous room, and then you were pinned into a corner—the dragon looming over you like a vengeful wraith come to take its due.

It was gigantic. Probably the biggest creature you’d ever seen. And it was sleek—all lithe muscle and glossy rows of black scales that glittered oddly in the dull, grey, light. Its wings spread wide behind it, spanning the entirety of the vast chamber. They looked like the sort of wings that could stir up a hurricane. The curling horns atop its head seemed sharp enough to gore a man or twenty, and the purple crests lining its skull were tapered down flat in a way that reminded you a bit deliriously of a pissy cat pinning its ears back before it swatted at you.

Its lips curled back over pointed canines as it snarled at you, and you were showered in a swathe of hot sparks.

“Oh, what large teeth you have,” you squeaked, and when the dragon dipped closer to bellow into your face, your reeled back with a splutter. “I—I mean white, sparkling, teeth!” you rattled, nearly incoherent. The dragon’s snout twitched away, almost like you’d startled it. “I mean, I’m sure you hear this all the time from your food, but—wow! Just! Very lovely! Definitely the prettiest smile I’ll ever be eaten by!”

Slowly it lowered its great head, and you could see the neon glare from its narrowed eyes.

“Not that you have to eat me,” you added hurriedly, hoping to whatever Gods could hear you that your smart mouth could finally be useful for more than just talking circles around assholes in bars or weaseling your friends out of shitty contracts. “I’d very much like not to be eaten. But all the same, we did intrude in your home—and it’s definitely a very nice home—so I’d totally get it. And I guess if I did have to die today, knowing that my life would be in the hands of something so magnificent is certainly reassuring.”

The dragon seemed to preen a bit at that. You could see the sharp crests beneath its horns soften as tension bled from the beast’s posture. It ducked in close again, and this time you felt a sharp pull of air rush past your cheeks as it sniffed you. Its nostrils were the size your head—bigger even, maybe. You didn’t want to think about it, but the dry heat of its breath puffing into your face made the entire thing a bit hard to ignore.  

“Did I mention what a charming home you have?” you rambled on. “Very aesthetic. The gargoyles at the gate were a lovely touch.”

The dragon made a low, warbling, noise in its throat that wasn’t quite a growl, but wasn’t particularly… reassuring, either. It made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

It ducked away—not far, just enough to reach one of the large, carved, walls at the outskirts of the room. Its long neck slithered out before pausing pointedly over an archway. It took you a long moment to realize it was gesturing to something. Another gargoyle from the looks of things—this one almost entirely crumbled away under the strains of time. You could just barely make out the shape of its square jaw and taloned fingers.

You nodded so hard you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

“Yes! I see! Very beautiful! Such fine craftsmanship!”

The dragon cooed at you. Swear on your life and all the money in your back packet. An actual, honest to God, coo. Fuck, maybe you’d managed to charm your way out of imminent dismemberment and death after all.

It ambled closer once again, a curiosity lighting its eyes and warming those neon irises into something that was less poisonous-hell-fire and more mellow-evening-in-the-forest.

Amidst all the rippling waves of ebony scales, your eyes caught on the smallest smear of crimson. Just a touch of red—right along the spikes of its tail. Carefully, cautiously, slower than molasses, you stepped forward with your hands raised. You whispered a handful of familiar words under your breath and your palms glowed fuzzy and blue. Dragons were supposed to be inherently magical, right? So this one would certainly understand that the string of syllables you’d babbled out were good, and helpful, and not at all a provocation. The dragon was looking down at you with lidded eyes, its gaze a bit unfocused. You gulped.

“I’m sorry my friends messed with your tail,” you apologized, gingerly holding your fingers out to hover over the abrasions without actually touching. “They were just trying to protect me. If—if that makes it any better.” The minuscule wound began to knit itself back together neatly beneath the pulses of your magic. “I do tend to need a lot of protecting—I’m not much a warrior, if that wasn’t completely obvious by the everything about me—so I can’t really blame them for being a bit gung-ho about it.”

After a moment or two, the scratches had faded back into solid, matte, black and you drew back with a content hum.

“There! All fixed!” You gave your most winning smile. Please don’t eat me, your brain chanted on endless repeat. Please don’t eat me please don’t eat me please don’t eat me—

The dragon reared back and settled on its haunches with another heavy puff of sweltering breath. You could feel the heat of it prickling all the way up your arms. After a long, long, moment of silent consideration, the dragon leaned forward again and rumbled deep in its chest. When you only stood there, properly petrified, it huffed again and bumped its nose against your sternum, nearly toppling you over.

“I don’t—” you started, nervous. “I’m sorry. I don’t really get what you’re trying to say.”

With another sigh that sounded entirely too put upon, the dragon lowered its great head. The air itself seemed to grow heavy against your shoulders, and you could taste the cloying bitterness of strong magics on the back of your tongue. Black miasma oozed from beneath the dragon’s talons and melted along its scales. The caustic scent of ash and petrichor burned along your nostrils, and you had to pinch your eyes shut and cover your nose to keep from coughing. You managed to sneak a peek past your fingers just in time to watch the shadowed outline of the beast collapse. And out of that puddle of black goo emerged a man­. He was tall and lithe, just as the dragon had been, with glowing green eyes that were terribly familiar. They were framed with thick, dark, lashes and sat perfectly on a face that was nearly too handsome to be human (well, it really wasn’t human you supposed, so that little tidbit probably accounted for said inhuman beauty well enough). Recognizable eyes and stature or no, the curling horns atop his head would have sealed the deal plenty well enough on their own.

He shook off the shadows twining around his ankles with a lazy twist of the hand and then turned to you with a curious little hum.

And holy fuck Mister Dragon apparently had no sense of shame, or maybe just no qualms about social niceties and practicalities, because his human self was wearing about just as many clothes as his lizard form had been.

You squeezed your eyes shut with a squeak, and then double covered them with your hands for good measure.

A chuckle rolled through the air—as dark and pleasantly rich as the finest of chocolates. And then there was a clawed finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back, and back, and back until you were at least half-way sure it would probably be safe to open your eyes again without infringing on his decency.

“You are fascinating, Child of Man,” it—he—hummed, low in his throat. His thumb dragged down to hook beneath the curve of your jaw and support the finger tucked up under your chin. “And it’s been so, very, long since I’ve been fascinated by anything.”

“Uh,” you replied, like a perfectly functional human being.

The dragon’s lips curled up over his pointed teeth—still just as sharp and white as they had been when he’d been so much bigger and scalier.

“I think I’d like to keep you,” he said with a nod to himself, as casually as one may talk about picking up extra groceries from the market.

“Uh,” you said again.

“You did mention that you needed protecting,” he continued, tapping a clawed finger against his own chin. The small smile quirking his lips twisted into something smug. “And that is certainly something at which I would excel.”

Your head was swimming.

“I—I mean. I’m honored that you—that… you—” You couldn’t even think the words, let alone get them past your brain and out of your mouth. You cleared your throat and fought to keep your eyes level with his clavicle and nowhere else. “D-Don’t you think you’re moving a bit fast?” you laughed nervously. “I mean, I’m sure my friends will probably be on their way back down soon—and—I mean, we haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. I don’t even know your name.”

He blinked, slow and serpentine.

“Oh. I suppose you wouldn’t.” He canted his head to the side, long strands of that inky black hair of his spilling across his shoulder. An amused sort of grin worked its way along his mouth. “Dragons are not keen to give out our true names so readily, but you seem like a clever one. Tell me—what do you think I’m called then, hmm?”

You glanced up quickly at the horns atop his head and couldn’t help yourself.

“Tsunotarou?”

He let out a bark of laughter that seemed to shake the walls.

“Oh,” he trilled, looking positively delighted. The hand not curled beneath your chin reached down to snag your own, and he brought your wrist up to his lips. You could feel the imprints of his canines against the soft skin there. “I’ll definitely be keeping you.”

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus x Yuu #Dragon Malleus #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #Monster Mayhem Malleus Part 1

[libraryraccoon]

A Penguin And The Angel Of Death

Gift for : @deadghosy

Gender : Penguin

Pronouns : They/Them

Message of Raccoon : I just really wanted to write Azrael with Penguin!Reader, so I try.

TW : bad english, english isn't my first language.

How you met Azrael is a mystery for everyone.

Azrael had heard about Heaven and Hell fighting over a penguin, and he decided to go check it out.

"So you're the famous Penguin." -Azrael, seeing you for the first time.

Friendship. Instantly.

He was your platonic soulmate.

I can see Azrael taking you flying with him. Imagine being a normal angel or demon, looking up and seeing the angel of death flying, holding a penguin in his arms.

The day of the trial, you and Azrael were watching everything from the sidelines, eating popcorn.

“Do you think they know you’re going to stay with me ?” -Azrael, watching the scene while eating popcorn, amused.

You made a penguin noise that can be translates as "Sshh, this is starting to get interesting." -Penguin!Reader, watching the scene like a TV novela.

Azrael speaks penguin. Don't ask how, he just do it.

"Guardship returns to.." Sera paused, either in disbelief or to be dramatic. “Azrael ?!” Certainly the first.

“Yo bitch.”

They looked at him as if they were seeing him for the first time- they hadn't even noticed him.

"WHAT ?! BUT HE DON'T EVEN KNOW THEM !" -Lute.

You worried for a second for Azrael's safety before remembering that he was the Angel of Death and that he was in no danger.

Lucifer looks at his brother, feeling betrayed that he is taking one of his children away from him.

Azrael walked out of the room with you in his arms, happy of the trial he saw today.

Azrael is like your cool dad who takes you everywhere with him and takes you wherever you want.

Azrael can go to Heaven, Hell or even Earth just with a snap of his fingers, say your destination and he'll take you there with no problem.

You often go to Hell and Heaven because you are attached to the people that are there.

Azrael only leaves you alone with Lucifer or Emily.

Lucifer is basically your uncle who babysits you all the time.

You have met Big G and the other archangels. I don't make the rules, as soon as Azrael won your guardship, he introduced you to the rest of the family.

You are the archangels' favorite nephew and Big G's favorite grandchild.

I just know that you and Big G spent hours on grandpa-grandchild outings. You go to the beach, get ice cream, play jokes on others... until Azrael comes to pick you up.

I headcanon that you help Gabriel in his work as a messenger.

It was you who passed the message of Sir Pentious being in Heaven to Charlie, telling her that redemption was possible.

It was your first message, Gabriel and Azrael were very proud of you after you managed to successfully transmit it.

They had a party to celebrate it.

No one can fuck with you.

Literally, you have Azrael, Big G and all the archangels on your side. Upsetting you/being on your bad side is a death sentence.

Lute and Adam are so disgusted that Azrael stole you - like you can feel their jealousy at 3000km/h.

Azrael just smiled at them before calling you “his son/daughter/child” in front of them just to piss them off.

And it works.

I can see Alastor trying to make a deal with Azrael for you to stay at the Hotel, Azrael just looks at him like "Really now ?"

Needless to say, it never worked and if it wasn't for you, he would have already killed the deer demon.

The angels find it adorable that the fearsome angel of death is walking around with a little Penguin, it's just too cute for them.

Family dinners are ✨️beautiful✨️

Beautiful in the sense that it's chaotic and it's never bored.

Usually family dinners are you, Big G, Azrael, Lucifer, Charlie, and the other archangels.

But one day you invited Emily, Sera, Adam and Lute to join you..

Let's say you weren't bored during all the dinner.

The best moments are those of hugs.

Hugs with Azrael are the best because he wraps his wings around you while carrying you. It's so quiet and peaceful that it puts you to sleep, which is very useful especially when you can't fall asleep.

Hugs with the whole family are... interesting ?

I mean, from the outside it looked like a mess of nameless feathers-

You are always in the middle of family hugs.

Azrael almost executed all the exterminators after learning about the extermination that was directed against the hotel when you were in it..

LET ME CANONIZE PROTECTIVE!DAD!AZRAEL.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #platonic #hazbin hotel platonic #azrael #azrael hazbin hotel #Penguin!Reader #Gift #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel charlie #Big G #big g hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel adam #sera hazbin hotel #emily hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #Raccoon is writing

[love-toxin]

Ellie i want astarion to fuck my mouth

im SO sorry queen i had to make the meow meow a lil emotionally vulnerable while im at it pls forgive me 🐸

(cws: gn!reader, vampire fuckery, bg3 spoilers, oral (m! receiving), teasing, possibly ooc astarion bc im only starting act 2 LOL, jealousy sex, deepthroating, a touch of feral/rough sex, facefucking, astarion is so in love it makes him look stupid <3)

word count: 3.9k

Once again, an evening spent with your mind somewhere else is interrupted by something you weren't expecting. The fire gleams from the pit and washes warmth across your face, a glow cast over your skin as you sit with your fingers white-knuckling a cold mug. Your companions are off on their own save for Scratch, who despite being a bit furrier than the tavern's normal patrons sleeps quietly at your feet. It barely took any convincing to let him in considering the rather stellar reputation you've earned yourselves–not to mention you're sharing a spot around the hearth with a couple frizzy-haired barbarians and a Tabaxi bard strumming out a tune on her lute. All seems peaceful, the noise just relaxed enough that you can let your mind wander about all manner of things. Ponder all sorts of worries you have yet to deal with on your adventure.

But it seems you're destined for an interruption. The back of your neck prickles from nowhere, a chill slithering coldly down your spine…from the corner of your eye you spot him, his pale hand vanishing behind a door on the second floor of the inn.

He's watching you. That's your cue, his methods of distraction always seeming so trivial and out of the way–he could always just come over and tap you on the shoulder. But Astarion likes the chase and isn't much of a fan of sincerity, so it's only natural for you to pass your half-empty mug off to one of the barbarians, get a bumbled shout of gratitude and a slap on the back, and slip away from the night's bustle of the tavern to thump your way up the winding stairs. All four of the rooms have been rented out by you and your party but one will sit empty tonight–aside from your gear, you're fairly certain your room will be unoccupied as you find other sleeping arrangements.

Tap tap. Just in case there's danger looming too close to comfort, you and your partner have a particular signal. Just as your knuckles come away from the door the tapping echoes back, tap tap, and you smother a grin as your fist closes around the knob for you to step inside.

The oak door thuds behind you at once and clicks softly as the latch falls in place. Nothing but the ire of a god or a drunken ogre could interrupt you now….but there's not much to interrupt if there's only one of you here, and as your eyes sweep the simple room you don't spot hide nor hair of your darling creature of the night. You've got a teasing remark on the tip of your tongue, ready to let loose-

"Don't. Move."

-But before you can even take a breath, there's a blade's edge digging into your throat and a cold, lean body pressed up against your backside. Effectively caught between a rock and a hard place. Prey. Astarion's whispered commands, however deep and punctuated they are, only send shivers of delight through you rather than true fear–and you find yourself struck with a dumb grin, not at all immune to the soft touch of his lips as they graze your tender neck from behind. He's got his arm pulled so snug around your waist it feels more like the grasp of a lover than a robbery, but that's because it is.

"Light on valuables, huh?" You tease over your shoulder, your hands braced against his arm as it holds the knife so dangerously close to your pulse point.

"You aren't. Show me what you've got, or I'll look myself." He murmurs back, breath cool as it puffs shallowly against your skin. It's somehow sweet when he tries to be so hard-to-get with you–maybe, you wonder, he doesn't yet realize how attached you are to him despite all you've been through already. Enough that you don't feel the bite of harsh, real danger in your peripheral, which sooner leads him to loosen his grip and push you forward with a palm on the base of your spine–all while tugging the knife out of the way, of course. If you asked him, he'd say it's because it would be a waste to spill such divine blood all over the ground.

As you turn yourself around to face him, you come eye-to-eye with the glaring tip of the knife yet again. Astarion is half-dressed, a bit disheveled, looking as though he's on the cusp of needing a drink again. Those carmine-coloured eyes echo some deep, violent desperation, one that shakes his voice as he commands you with total sincerity to strip.

"Will you join me?" You ask, your voice tinged with adoring hope. It irritates him, hope. Usually, at least. Usually it doesn't rub him as wrong when you're the one with hope in your heart, but evidently tonight is different if his scoff is anything to go by.

"That depends." His gaze flits away as he worries his lower lip between his teeth, not as careful about nicking it with his fangs as he usually is. Something surely must be wrong if he's acting so strange, especially since nothing has happened lately that's seemed to upset him…at least not that he's told you. It could be something else entirely, or something you don't have any idea about. Once he meets your eyes again, the hand he's gripping the dagger in lowers slowly. It was just a prop, after all–never a real threat. "...So long as you don't forget who you pledged your love to. Me. I won't stand for all this…this nonsense I've seen of late."

You cock your head in reply with a raised brow, questioning and curious of what on earth he could be referring to. Astarion rolls his eyes but it's most assuredly a gesture to mask how weak your sincerity makes him, your honesty painfully boring but, at the same time, endlessly endearing. With a sigh he tosses the knife aside in an arc, the handle flipping over blade for it to fall perfectly on the tip, sunk half an inch into the table by the bed. He's got his attention locked on it for long enough that the shuffling of fabric is what turns his head back towards you, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips on instinct as he watches your clothing slip off your positively tantalizing figure.

"We're gonna have to pay for that, you know." Whatever you're saying goes right through both ears, the way your giggles shake your shoulders being all that he can focus on right now. He can barely tear his eyes away once you've wiggled out of your bottoms, and you're swift to remind him of his stare when you cheekily throw the travel-worn trousers in his direction. But all he does is grab a handful of them and press them to his face, not soaking in the scent as much as the undeniable warmth from just coming off your legs. They're only an introduction, however. They're tossed right back at you without pause, and fall to the floor in a heap that Astarion carelessly steps over to get to you. To get closer. He can never really get close enough, ever.

Even an inch away from you, though, your love does nothing to close that last shred of distance between you. Where he was eager to touch you just a few minutes ago, now he keeps his hands down like he's nervous about grazing you with just his fingertips. But despite that you can clearly see how he keeps eyeing your lips, so if he won't meet you the rest of the way, you simply have to do it for him. A quick peck on the chin is too much yet not enough–he endures a noticeable quiver through his body that he tries to stifle, but he can't resist raising a hand to your neck and tilting your head higher, just enough that you won't miss this time when he plants his mouth on yours. Deeper this time, much deeper, with his tongue making an appearance to slither from a cold embrace to your unbearably hot one.

You'd love nothing more than to take it further right here, right now, but there's something stopping Astarion that you'd like to get to the bottom of. Just as he's getting a little lost in your kiss, his eyes shut and fangs scraping at your delicate tongue as it moves with his, you break it off with a warm hand pressed to his chest and bring him back to your unspoken question.

"Azzy, what's wrong?"

"Don't call me that," He snaps back suddenly, brow furrowed in immediate annoyance. He doesn't move away though–clearly you're a bit too enticing for him to rethink the embrace he has you in, nor the fact that you're bare and warm for nobody else but him. "So childish. Or did you simply forget my name already?"

"I could never forget you. Now tell me what's wrong, Az. You're acting weird."

This time, he just shoots you a glare that could kill you on the spot. It's damning, his fury terrifying enough written so plainly on his face….but it also stirs up something within you that won't be sated by words alone.

"Last time, darling. I'm warning you. And it's nothing. Just…" A shake of his head sends his perfect curls flying about, each one falling back into place more perfectly than he's coming across right now. "...I wish you had been around when I was alive. That's all."

"What do you mean?"

"The others are all…alive. Breathing. Warm. Some of them look at you like–like you aren't with me. Like they could sweep you off your feet without even a thought." He says it with so much defeat in his tone, so gently with so soft an edge that you almost can't hear it with the muffled sounds of the tavern under your feet. It's rare to hear him sound so…sad. It's a bit odd to think, but he often comes off younger than he is when he speaks this way. "Maybe, if…if I was with you, then…" He huffs, flinching away from your hand as it grazes his cheek. Yet, within a moment, he's turning back and nuzzling his face into your palm like he can't get enough, his hand coming up to brace your delicate wrist as if he's afraid you really will pull away from him. "...If I was with you, maybe I would never be what I am now."

"But I like who you are now." You insist, the smile slowly returning as it creases the edges of your lips. "I love you, Astarion. I mean it, I always will. Forever."

"Forever is a very long time, my sweet." You shoot him that naive look like you don't really get the gravity of what you're saying. You don't, on second thought–you haven't suffered through two immortal centuries like he has. "...Fine. You love me? Prove it, then."

His tone grows dark, as does the once-vibrant colour in his eyes. Something swirls about behind them like a shadow in the water of a blood-red lake.

"On your knees."

Huh?

"I said," The air grows hot around you despite the chill of his body on yours, a purr rising in the back of his throat as he pushes very gently on your shoulder. "Get on your knees."

And with his command hanging in the air, you follow so obediently you give him a pleasing shiver down the length of his spine and back. You sink down to the floor in one long, fluid motion, barely breaking eye contact as you brace yourself against his pale thighs. They don't even need your touch to come undressed, his pants falling with his thumbs hooked into the waist and tugged down just as easily as you did. He wastes no time in stepping out of them and kicking them away, but he doesn't really have the option to when you're already mesmerized by the image of what lies beneath–once the tip of his flushed, heavy cock sprung free of catching on his belt, you had your gaze glued to it like it's the first time you've ever laid eyes on him.

"I'll never get tired of this view." He smirks, all pompous and smug with no idea of the test of self-control he's about to face. Because although you may be the one beneath him, where you belong in this scenario, the haze over your eyes as you stare openly should be enough of a tell that your mouth is already watering. Astarion's gentle humming hits your ears as he takes himself in hand, tugging out a few slow strokes for your entertainment before he settles on holding it by the base, and guides it down towards your lips. He's so pale everywhere else that the ruddiness of the rubbery head is almost uncanny, but the pale pink blush that spreads throughout gives his flesh such a delicate look that you can't help but dive right in.

One slow, tentative lick up the tip, and Astarion has it written all over his face–he isn't going to be finished until you've got some bruises, that's for sure. You try another and he finally gets a grip on your head, fingers woven through your hair to keep you steady and to calm his trembling hands. Those soft kitten licks are always his weakness, each one a bit braver and deeper but peppered with hot little kisses in between. You press them all down the shaft and back, smearing the stiff flesh with spit and giving him a tongue bath that feels like it never ends–not that he wants it to, though. Those shaky breaths overhead are a telltale sign otherwise.

"More," He purrs, half-needy and half-demanding in the same breath. You kiss over his knuckles that still grip the base of his shaft, and can't help but smile up at him as he quietly taps the head against your lips, tap tap. Twice he knocks and begs silently for entry, and soon he releases a sigh from the depths of his belly as you swallow him down and welcome him in. "Show me what I deserve."

Astarion certainly doesn't need to tell you twice, he barely needs to tell you once. As soon as he's settled snugly where he belongs, he lets go of the grasp he had and watches in awe as you swallow. Every inch he thinks you can't take more of disappears inside your mouth, slid further and further until he starts to curve into the bend of your throat and loses the last vestiges of his willpower. All his strength saps into you like his teeth on your flesh–where he stole your power in your blood, you take it back just as easily with a flick of your tongue and the incessant squeeze of your throat.

"Getting impatient? Already? We've only just begun, love." You can feel the heat of his eyes shift as they turn further downward, no clothing able to serve as a boundary to hide the needy grind of your thighs together as you kneel. The reaction of your body to his rather lewd commentary doesn't help you either, and in one sweep of his gaze over your exposed figure he can see everything you're thinking like it's written across your skin in ink. "Don't stop rubbing those legs together. Show me just how badly you want me, darling."

It might be more embarrassing if you didn't know Astarion had seen it all already, and that he would most definitely be seeing much more of everything below in the future. The fact that you trust him with those fangs around all your sensitive areas is touching…and it also means he trusts you enough to be a little rougher when you're returning the favour. You've degraded yourself to a humiliating extent by being with him, by getting down on your knees for him no less, and with him wrapped so tight and cozy in your throat he's got a look like he's ready to make himself at home.

With a moan slipped in between the pauses, your beloved curls his thumbs down behind the shell of each ear, his palms laid flat against your temples so he won't let go so easily. The drawing back is easy, his cock parting less and less of the space inside until he's barely brought it back to the tip–but just as you're getting in a taste of his salty sweat and bitterly rich arousal as it sits heavy on your tongue, Astarion flashes you a wink and braces your face for impact as he thrusts back in. Your heat coddles every inch of him and shakes loose a string of raspy moans from his chest, while the scrape of your nails against his thighs and your soft, squirming tongue pressed flat against his girth only has him burning hotter. The first time is a tight fit for sure, but as he enters into a steady rhythm of pulling out and gliding past your sweet, stretched lips, each buck of his hips grows smoother and it gets easier with time. Sooner than either of you expected, you barely have to focus at all–you can sit nicely and let your attention wander up to his lusty gaze, idly suckling at whatever he manages to stuff inside for as long as he's able to keep it there.

"I know it's on your mind already, but tell me I'm beautiful, my sweet." Astarion croons like a cat to a mouse, speaking so sweetly like he isn't still ravaging the most tender areas of your throat, and fucking away any possibility of you speaking properly for the next little while. And he shows no signs of stopping, your squeaky, muffled moans as he grinds the heft of his cock against your tongue too delicious for him to think about it. But eventually he does, managing somehow to pry himself off of your beautiful, fucked-out, spit-slicked face to give you a chance. "Go on. Speak."

"Please," You croak, head hazy and your face dark with warmth. "You're so beautiful, Astarion, please. I love you."

"Will you love me forever?" You nod, the answer barely a hair's breadth from your swollen lips.

"For eternity."

Astarion takes a moment, a pause that lasts a lifetime or more, but the genuine joy that starts to spread across his smile could keep you alive for a century of centuries. It's not one you see often or ever see, but that makes it just as precious as any gold or treasure you might come across in your lifetime.

"...Eternity it is then, darling." One of those cold hands moves to stroke your hair, his touch fleeting yet his grip tight with desire as you lean in for a kiss–not on his lips, but rather the tip of his dick, of which is absolutely soaked by your influence…and of his readiness for the end, as you can see by the veins pulsing up the sides and the whole length twitching with anticipation. You can feel those little spasms through your tongue as it meets his slit, Astarion's chest heaving and fangs glinting as he gives in to the urges to nestle himself back inside. As much as he wants a proper kiss, he'll get one as soon as those frantic hips slow completely instead of picking up speed as he meets your delectable heat again. He could be using you for his pleasure alone for another two hundred years, and in your endless desire to please him you're not sure you'd oppose it–you know for a fact that once the centuries had passed, Astarion would be spending twice as long with his head down between your legs.

"One day, I'll tear that wretch of a vampire's heart out through his stomach," Astarion growls out of nowhere, suddenly sounding completely feral in the span of a moment. The ferocity with which he's fighting the tightness of your throat increases too, thought not much more than he already was–if you touched your neck you would feel the bulge of him sunk so deep he can see it, the rise and fall of that soft flesh tightening the knot in the pit of his belly. "-And we won't ever spend a day apart. I swear."

All you can do is ride with the pace he's offering, your throat cinching tight like a coinpurse the more he rams it with the full strength of his hips, nails digging into your scalp as he batters you rabidly without ever losing his grip. Soon, his query of "Ready, darling?" barely meets your ears, your attempt at not choking on each thrust and somehow sucking in a breath here and there too important for your survival.

And in a matter of moments, you're granted reprieve while also left hollow and empty at the same time, Astarion's fist yanking you back by the hair as he sucks in a huge, deep breath into his lungs. The twist of his other hand stroking himself down to the last few beats comes close to your face, your soft gasps for air the perfect background for your name to trickle out of Astarion's mouth–and with such a deep moan it rattles you through your blood down to your bones, you kneel and wait eagerly as your partner lets everything go for you. His balls tighten and squeeze as the pressure of that knot inside him snaps, and he watches with a devoted gleam in his eyes as you wear every rope of pearly cum he milks out for you in that orgasm that shakes him to the core.

"Look at that," He murmurs, voice nearly as wrecked and raspy as yours will be by tomorrow. "Painted like a canvas fit for the gods. Gorgeous."

If he could, he would save this image of you in a frame forever; your sweet, smiling face marred with the essence of him, your hair pulled back by his sweaty fingers but your eyes filled with so much love. Love, genuine and sincere, your giggles loopy and tired as you come down from the high, yet without any post-sex remorse that he fears each and every time you climb into his bed with him. It stays the same when he cleans you off and persists even once you kiss him, knees so wobbly you fall back into the sheets with the slightest push. You won't ever let him free, kiss after kiss pressed to his cold mouth as he climbs over you. Your ankles hook over his waist before he knows it, your smile desperate to be wiped off your face again once he chases that heat for the second, third, fourth, fifth, tenth time, until the sun rises and you're reminded of the downsides of entertaining a lover who never needs rest.

You might tell him you love him again when morning comes, despite the exhaustion tugging down your eyelids and the sweat pouring down your aching back. You probably will, knowing how naive and sincere you tend to be even when you shouldn't. Even so, this time…Astarion might not be able to pretend he doesn't feel exactly the same way.

#astarion #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #ellie writes #anons #3k

[holyrascalrebelalien]

A headcanon about Adam.

Adam wasn't really evil at the beginning, how could he be? He was a newly created being in a world without values, but he was extremely spoiled.

When Adam was created, the angels made clear his role as the first man. He was one of the first creations of heaven and had come out 'perfect', he was destined to be the father of many other beings that would be like him and a precious wife was created only for him. Maybe even the other animals of Eden showed admiration towards him, boosting his ego enormously. Then there was Lilith, who didn't worship him and in fact wanted to be treated as an equal. Adam didn't understand why, he was going to be in charge of inserting a baby into her, so why shouldn't he be above her wife? This generated conflict between the two where Adam demanded control but Lilith resisted, until she eventually fled.

Then came Eve, made from his rib. She was created to be submissive, to obey him. Adam may have enjoyed it at first... but then he found it boring. Eve didn't argue, didn't resist, didn't give her opinion or say no. What was the point of having a partner if she was a simple extension of himself? It turns out that being blindly adored wasn't as good as he thought, and he realized it when, ironically,he began to miss Lilith.

If Adam ever came to love Eve it was when she gained her free will, when he was finally able to know Eve's true self, although something clearly went wrong in the end.

This is the reason why in the series Adam, despite being a misogynist, never tries to control Lute and in fact respects her and really seems to love her (whether platonically or romantically). She is the perfect balance for him, she is not above but not below...she is almost an equal.

It seems that Lilith was right about the importance of being equal after all.

#headcanon #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel #guitarspear #? i guess #Ineedtoknowadam'sbackstorysobad

[hells-wasabii]

Lilith x f!reader? I would love to see how some writers see her lmao

A/N: This one i really didn't know how to approach. We really know next to nothing about Lilith as a character, her personality remains a mystery. That being said, I did what i could, I decided to go with a half and half for this one as well. There also might be an unfinished sentence hiding in here somewhere

Character: Lilith

Type: Headcanons+Drabble (Lilith x fem!reader, Angst)

Lilith as a whole is an interesting character. She is graceful and rebellious. She’s the first woman and the former(?) queen of hell. She is a prideful creature and has every right to be. But that doesn't mean that she'll want to be above you, she craves an equal, someone that she can spend her time in paradise with. Someone she can count on to be by her side.

Lilith is free-spirited to a fault, a dreamer as Charlie put it, and that will definitely reflect in the relationship. She has ideas for what she wants in life, and she'll want you right there with her every step of the way. You might be considered 'the mistress of the queen of hell' but you're still her partner nonetheless.

But she also has a lot going on. Heavy, plot stuff. Just because she loves you that doesn’t mean that you have the go-ahead to get in her way. Whatever her goals may be, whether it's to put a stop to Charlie’s hotel or do whatever it takes to remain in heaven. You’re either a part of them, or you're not. It’s your decision but you’d best make it quickly when she presents it to you. She’s very no-nonsense when it comes to her important business. She won’t take lightly to you getting in the way.

The moment your feet met the sand, you could feel a wave of calm wash over you. Heaven, especially its beaches, tended to have that effect on souls. This was one of your favorite places in heaven after all. How could it not be? Gorgeous beaches as far as the eye can see, and the sky stuck in what is essentially an eternal sunset. Which, while unnatural, was lovely nonetheless. But the beach wasn’t why you had come, not this time at least. You lifted your gaze giving your wings a flutter to shake off any sand before folding them neatly. No, this time you had an important matter to attend to.

“Darling, I know you’re there.” Lilith always had a knack for knowing when you came to visit, from the moment you even set off towards her little portion of heaven she always seemed to be expecting you. “Come, join me.” She gestured at the chair beside her without looking back. That was a recent addition to her usual beach spot, you noted.

You remembered when you had first stumbled across this beach, it was absolutely breathtaking. Initially, you had been surprised by the beach’s lack of occupancy. However, as you walked along the shoreline with no destination in mind, you would come to find out why exactly that was.

It was only natural that a place of that caliber was occupied by the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. The very first woman, Lilith. She had been welcoming, much to your surprise, offering conversation and company on that lonely shore. Even extending something of an open invitation when you left, an invitation that you would accept time and time again.

You were sure that you were never meant to meet her, to even know of her presence in heaven. It certainly seemed like something that a human soul wasn’t meant to be aware of.

And yet here you were, chin-deep in a romantic entanglement with the Queen of Hell herself.

You knew better than to beat around the bush. Lilith always did prefer keeping things to the point when it came to things of importance. She didn’t particularly care for games of that fashion. So you  “Are you really going back to hell?”  You knew it wasn’t something she wanted to do, she had been content in just leaving well enough alone, but that angel, Lute, had forced her hand. And in turn, forced yours as well.

Your lover looked back at you, lowering her glasses to look at you directly. “Is that a problem, dear?” 

Yes, a very big problem at that, never mind that you’re an angel, would heaven even allow you to go down to hell? Would they even know? This was dangerous and wrong, and… and you knew that you would do it anyway, didn't you? Every fiber of your being was screaming how wrong this was, but you were the mistress to the queen of hell. You were sure you could handle it, so long as you were by her side. And so you smiled, you would happily follow this woman to hell and back. Literally in this case. “Of course not, Lilith.”

This brought a small smile, one that you couldn’t quite decipher, to the queen of hell’s lips as you took your place in the chair next to her.

“Good, because you’ll be coming with me.”

Everything seemed to freeze in place at the revelation. What have you gotten yourself into this time?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin imagine #hazbin headcanons #lilith x reader #lilith hazbin hotel

[sunsetcougar]

Vaggie wonders sometimes, when she’s feeling really shitty, if she was always meant to be in Hell and her time in Heaven was a fluke. How can she feel so at home in the place meant for the damned? How can she so easily love cannibals and murderers and the literal Princess of Hell if she wasn’t destined to end up here?

Maybe Lute was right for cutting off her wings and making her fall. Maybe she was never meant to be an angel.

She’s not really sure how she feels about that thought.

#Cannibal Angel AU #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vaggie

[howlingday]

The Perfect GM

Jaune: (GM) It's been several weeks since you've arrived in this dark cave. You've been mostly alone, but this is your element. These harsh conditions have made you into the most adaptable creature in these lands. Sexy, wet, and fully aware of these facts, it is only a matter of time before you reach your destination.

Jaune: Suddenly, you happen upon a slumbering dragon, deep in the cave-

Tyrian: (Rogue) I attempt to fuck it!

Jaune: You what?

Tyrian: I attempt to-

Jaune: I heard you the first time, it's just... Why?!

Tyrian: I don't discriminate.

Jaune: Uh... Why? The dragon could help you!

Tyrian: Oh, it can still help me. But only after I fuck it~!

Weiss: (Bard) Hm, seduction to improve our odds of success. A solid strategy. I play my lute to set the mood.

Jaune: Weiss, please don't entertain the idea. Besides, he still has to roll.

Tyrian: ...Natural 20~.

Jaune: Oh, come on!

Tyrian: OH~!

Jaune: Fine, you fuck the dragon. Are you happy?

Tyrian: Best three seconds of my life~.

Nora: (Barbarian) Three seconds?! Wow. Teach me your ways, oh, grandmaster.

Jaune: Can we please get back to the game.

Nora: Wait! I wanna fuck the dragon, too!

Jaune: Nora, why?!

Nora: ...Nat 20.

Jaune: FUCK! Fine! You make sweet, sweet love to the dragon, too. Can we please move on?!

Weiss: Wait just a god damn minute! I, Weiss, Bard of the Schnee Dust Company, will also fuck the dragon!

Jaune: WEISS! COME ON!

Weiss: HAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! GO!

Jaune: Ha! 18 ain't gonna cut it, Ice Queen!

Nora: Wait! I use my Way of the Wingwoman spell to give her +3 advantage to her roll!

Weiss: TWENTY-ONE! GIMME THEM DRAGON CHEEKS!

Cinder: (Sorcerer) ...Fuck it. I fuck the dragon, too.

Jaune: GOD DAMN IT, FINE! YOU ALL HAVE A HUGE, FUCKING ORGY WITH THE DAMN DRAGON! ARE YOU FUCKING HAPPY?!

Tyrian: Nice~.

Nora: Nice~.

Weiss: Nice~.

Cinder: Nice~.

#rwby #devilartemis #jaune arc #weiss schnee #nora valkyrie #tyrian callows #cinder fall

[darlingpwease]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞

CW unhealthy behaviour, interspecies relationship [?], power imbalance, "drama" but as a warning and not for drama lovers, mention of suicides & forced sacrifice, all my men are breedable, submissive and obsessive<333 yandere!reader lowkey also

but like, xie lian like yandere?

when he, while still a human, is madly in love with his "future spouse", and is more than open and impulsive in this, to the point that even centuries later there is a popular romantic fairy tale about "the prince who peeled peaches", and although you did not respond with a certain reciprocity, sending more mixed towards to the prince who adores you like a puppy, you seemed to have a common belief in the possibility of making the lives of ordinary people better.

even if he was spoiled and used to being adored, and also absolutely in love with you, he did not force you to do anything and never spoke officially about your wedding without your consent and the first step, even if he unequivocally called you his spouse, without seeing your discomfort or denial, which made him even happier. believing that you just need to warm up to it.

even when he plans to ascend, he promises you that this does not mean that he will not wait for you, confident that you are destined to be with him, among the Heavenly Officials, and you, of course, agreed with him, saying that if he ascends out of the circle of reincarnations, then you will follow him, responding to his feelings for the first time, even if it was so small, making him almost purr with pleasure, asking you to repeat these words again and again for his sake, putting your chin on your knees and hearing words that even the most charming melody of the divine lute cannot compare with, and you indulge him, realizing that soon you will not see him again.

and even when he finally ascends, he believes that you will soon join him, waiting for your return to him more than for his own ascension, realizing with almost disappointment that maybe, maybe he hurried — after all, xie lian is lonely and bored without you, even among the Gods and Goddesses, it was as if a piece of his soul had been cut out, ripped out of his body. but you love him, right? you'll be arriving soon, right? he thinks with such fear that you can find someone for yourself, instead of him, but when he finds out that you still pray to him and honor him as God, he can't help but cry from an overabundance of emotions, feeling almost ashamed that he left you so hastily.

when xie lian descends from heaven, breaking the rules to help his kingdom, but can't help but tremble with delight when he can see you again, still as magnificent and majestic as ever, even if the cause of it was disasters — he hugs you so tenderly, like the most precious thing, and you see that his personality has not changed at all since he became a God, which only makes you smile, feeling calm from the fact that your Li-Li has returned, still as young and beautiful, as if only yesterday he was peeling fruit for you and asked you to go look at the pond in which the koi swim. Your Prince.

you are the only thing that keeps his sanity and mental stability, stroking his hair when all his attempts turn into failure, and people call him the Demon God who killed the nation. his neck is wrapped with almost black tattoos, which are called 'cursed shackles', but you kiss his forehead and press his face tightly to your chest, whispering that this is only fate, he could not help, but also could not ignore when his people were dying, — you do not blame him, and even if xia lan wants to say that he doesn't believe, he just chokes with despair, afraid that you will confirm that your words are lies and you 'don't want to see him anymore'.

but you don't do it. you whisper that you promised to follow him always, and he just blindly pokes his nose into your skin, whispering apologies and repentance, constantly apologizing and blaming yourself that you now live with him in a shack, that you could not find a spouse because of him, that you had to give up everything because of the connection with him — and you do not find the words to tell him, despite everything still believing in goodness and justice, that you are sure that you will not have long left. after all, no matter what, people know that you are the beloved of the Demon God, and you are not going to hide it or be ashamed, you know that what is going to happen is bound to happen — otherwise your beloved would live a happy life of a great and beloved God instead of a beggar.

you bring small gifts to him in the remaining temple and offer prayers, clutching prayer candles, even though you can live with him — but if you give up your family and status, you will not be able to help him or his parents in any way, even if you feel time flowing through your fingers. people never forgive when their dreams are betrayed. but, perhaps, if the tao of your beloved is "to be at the very sun and at the back of life," then your tao is "to help him while you can breathe."

as long as you can breathe.

when he finds out that you were killed, sacrificed for the sake of expiation of deeds when he was not near you, something inside him

breaks.

he shouldn't have left you. he was supposed to be always there. he was supposed to be helping you. he shouldn't have come down. he shouldn't have let you help him. he was supposed to save you.

hemustbetheonewhowassacrificed, not you.

his beloved, his spouse, his love, his sun, his moon, his monarch, his beloved, his darling, his happiness, his betrothed, his tao, his savior, his only one, his tender one, his Deity, his... life.

when nothing else can hold his mind, giving him an understanding of why he lives, knowing that you are fighting for him to be happy, and at some point you are simply not... there. it doesn't matter if he is calling you or looking for you, wandering through familiar places and seeing your favorite food, seeing your favorite places and hearing at least something resembling your favorite melolias. your smile. your eyes. your longing. your annoyance. your disappointment. your bliss. your serenity. your peace of mind. your tenderness. your affection. your words. your actions. your feelings.

you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you you

are not there.

and it hurts even more than anything else, even when his body is repeatedly pierced, trying to kill.

he's not worried anymore.

he was tired.

you would kiss his wet eyes and tell him that he should be strong and not forget who he lives for and what he should do.

but you are not.

and something inside him is dying.

completely.

xia lian, who for the first time meets a person so familiar in his life that he could draw their face with his eyes closed. you still have the same majestic face and movements that he can't help but stare at, for a moment ceasing to play from shock and euphoria, even realizing that it's not you, you died - but at that moment he just wanted to run up to you and for you to call him your Li-Li, as before, while he was silly and in love.

in love with you.

this is his second, this time voluntary, banishment — and you can't help but stare at the poor stranger for too long than you should, not remembering him, but knowing that you remember him. a strange deja vu, leaving a bitter residue, with a distant thought "he's fine, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive", as if belonging to you.

he knows that this is the tao, of course the tao, that xie lian should not interfere in your life if he does not want to destroy it again, even if he cannot help but suffocate from the lack of you, especially knowing that you are there, you are here, you are close, so close that he can feel you tantalizingly close.

it seems as if he feels you passing by, on the verge of delirium, constantly tormenting him with thoughts and memories, even if he struggles, realizing that this is a test, and he no longer dares to interfere in your life and ruin it, even if without you he feels like a fish thrown out of the sea, where is his the sea, his ocean, is you and only you.

his everything.

when he becomes the prince's mentor and tries to find out, society is buzzing with news about the suicide of a young child of one of the richest families, who, according to the most audacious rumors, worshipped demons and went crazy when he met a homeless man on the street, falling in love with him. no one knew what the truth was — the family more than successfully controlled the rumors and suppressed those that were unwanted, but the realization that xie lian was guilty again, even becoming a fleeting figure in your life, suppressed him... and, to his shame and painfully guilty pleasure, he was pleased.

do you still love him? even when he's like this? even when you don't remember anything about him? even when you are not "you", is he still the only one in your heart? just like you in his?

a gentle smile, a weightless touch of fingers; a cold dead look that bloomed with a billion flowers when looking at him — and death when your paths were impossible.

your 'husband', which he could not become, and your 'man' as whom he failed. if he had not become a God and continued to move in the cycle of reincarnation, then perhaps you would have lived by becoming a couple with him — or with "her", the longer he was a God, the less he cared about it, just hoping that you would love him in any way.

he knows that one day you will be reborn, and when his dagger pierces the king, he knows that one day you will meet. no matter what he needs to do, you will be his. he will be the one you needed. he's the only one who can be with you.

and he's only yours.

forever and always.

when he ascends for the third time, he knows why he continues to do this, not finding you in any corner of the world — even when lived the life of a general, hoping that at least somewhere your features will flash, and as a 'Scrap Immortal', knowing that when you meet him and remember him, you will definitely remember him, you will both laugh at it, looking at your life without each other as a nightmare. the usual nightmare. your dead hanging body, your suicide, your absence, your smile when he said that you were the only thing holding him, not noticing how full of guilt and despair you were, like boiling water until you poured out and turned into puddles — but he's not like that anymore. he's changed. he gave up both when he was a prince and when he was a tramp.

and, of course, you will accept him in any way, just like he does you, waiting for you from every circle of reincarnation until you become a Deity with him to be together forever.

as you were meant to. as tao says.

his steps are light and almost airy, as well as his figure, dressed in white robes, you always said that this only emphasizes his innocence and beauty, like an already ascended God, xie lian can't help but stop, still trying to find you in every corner of the world, constantly catching any familiar movement with childish impatience or a glance,

and when he catches painfully adored external features, looking at how a person in beautiful, but simple enough clothes lowers their feet into a slowly flowing river,

he knows who it is.

of course, his beloved face lights up with amazement when you see a gentle, handsome young man walking towards you, hurriedly trying to greet him, immediately realizing that he is not just a person, but he does not mind at all even if you ignored him — as long as it's you, it doesn't matter. he can feel his tears coming, seeing that it's you, really you, and he can't help but cry even if you are clearly shocked by him.

but his smile is so bright and warm, like the summer sun, and giving off a gentle, timidly happy pain in your chest.

definitely can't be human.

but for you, he is the only one who looks like your ideal person should.

still not realizing that, compared to you and your preferences, he is even worse.

ascended!reader who is the god of something like revenge and retribution, being constantly drawn into the suppression and system of karma and morality, reminding that revenge is always an option, and that justice in one form or another will always arrive and will triumph, no matter how many victims and in what way it happens. god of failure x god of retribution, power couple. a couple, one of whom has absolutely no luck, while the second almost personifies the tao and is not subject to such things. xie lian hates the fact that you had to suffer because of him, but to know that you are now forever together, that it is now safe for you to be with him and that no one else can be a couple for the two of you except you two? he is absolutely euphoric.

#.spicy♡ #🥮 — heaven official's blessing #✉.xie lian #🧸.unhealthy #🧸.drama #🧸.problematic #gender neutral reader #low-key dom reader #yandere reader #yandere xie lian #xie lian my beloved<33333

[holyfurnace]

@the-hazbeens | closed starter

------------------

Lute bit her lip slightly as she crept through the back streets of the city, one hand resting protectively on the padded satchel she had with her. It'd probably be much faster to get to her destination if she traveled on the wider, more open streets, but while she knew that she could handle herself if any of the demons out there tried anything, the disguised angel didn't want to even risk a fight while transporting what she had in the bag.

Finally getting to where Adam- Alexander, now, she reminded herself- was living, she brought her metallic hand up to knock sharply a few times before glancing around quickly with a faint, slightly worried frown as she waited for the door to open.

#ic #lute #general lute #down in disguise #the-hazbeens #closed starter

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Little Prince

Day 1 for @manweweek

Prompts: Family | Breath & Air

Pairing: BoLT version of Manwë/Varda with baby Fionwë Úrion (Eönwë)

Themes: Soft

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 500+ words

Summary: Baby Fionwë is taken outside for the first time so the others could see him.

This is also available on AO3

A deep but welcomed hush settled within the lofty halls and vast chambers of Ilmarin. Heralds went forth to the furthest corners of the Almaren and beyond, carrying with them the words of their lord and lady to all who wished to hear them.

“Perfect in every way. And already strong,” Manwë declared heartily, cradling the still-amorphous spirit of his firstborn in his arms. His eyes filled with awe when his son stirred, alert and curious. “And I wager it would not be long before he could weave an earthly vessel for himself.”

His queen came to him, her star-speckled skin already holding a glow of renewed vitality. Varda found unspeakable joy in light for as long as she could remember, and the orbs that burned bright in the sky were once her greatest creation. Then she and her lord husband came together and created a new life—a little prince that would be their joy. The very notion of it was enough to leave her humbled and overawed.

“Little Fionwë,” she lilted, smiling when their son reached up and caressed her cheek. Warmth radiated from his touch, as did love. Varda believed he was smiling at her. “As brilliant as the stars and destined for great things, I can feel it in the very depths of my spirit. Come, my lord. It is time our child saw something of the world we all fashioned with our song.”

Her king agreed, following her onto a balcony open to the sky. Fionwë took his first breath of cool mountain air and laughed. It echoed sweetly across the still, star-filled night. Vivid, sparkling orbs of golden light—a visible sign of his delight—burst to life all around him when he laughed, floating in the air like great puffy heads of dandelions gone to seed. Then music flowed forth from all over Almaren and the Timeless Halls, all harps and lutes and viols, filling the star-filled night like Fionwë's laughter did before. The others of their kind sang to welcome the little prince, their voices arising as one and joining the music in a sound of interwoven melodies of indescribable beauty and harmony, and glory that filled the heavens and the earth to overflowing, and the echo of that music caused the very stars themselves to burn brighter, their light increasing and increasing until it seemed like a million brilliant lamps flickered against a never-ending field of indigo and violet and lilac. 

“Eru is pleased, my darling. And so are the others," the king remarked while the music of the others went on, filling him with great joy. "Our son has been blessed.”

“Indeed. Now we must go back in,” said Varda, “and prepare ourselves to receive the others.”

They returned to their chambers, and Fionwë began to fuss. He could not understand why they could not tarry a little longer. He wanted to see more of the stars and hear more of the others singing. And since he could not still form proper words, he made his displeasure known in another way, with short, breathy grunts and the tightening of little fists that had already begun to take form. Light burst into life again; this time, it showed itself as orbs of dark red. 

“I think we have a warrior in this one,” his father observed, laughing.

“We do indeed,” the queen replied indulgently. “Be patient, little one, and do not fret. Your father and I will take you out again.”

tags@asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou

#manweweek #manwe week #Manwë #Varda #Eönwë #book of lost tales #fanfiction #ficlet #the valar #the ainur #the valarindi #a world of whimsy writes

[2ndprinceofdarkness]

NEW COVER!! YIPPEE!! 

 Uriel Morningstar (OC) is the son of Lilith and Lucifer. He was conceived during their destined meeting within the Garden of Eden, but taken at birth to be raised in Heaven, Uriel grew into a powerful half-angel, standing as a prince of Heaven. In an attempt to keep Earth from learning the true origin of sin, Heaven hid Uriel's true nature from both him--and everyone else. Meanwhile, the truth was revealed in a fit of passion by Lute, the second in command, after Adam's death. It's still a work in progress :D

#lucifer #aspiring writers #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writerslife #writing community #art #authors #aspiring writer #creative writing #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin #lucifer hazbin hotel #fanfiction #fanfic #fantasy #fanart #fandom

[finleycannotdraw]

Shut Up and Dance With Me

Geralt has always known that soft things aren’t meant for him.

It’s why he pushed Jaskier away. It’s why he keeps away from towns when he’s not working. It’s why he denied his Child Surprise so vehemently for so many years. He was told that the world would have nothing for him but roughness, so he roughened himself in preparation and never truly relaxed.

Until now, that is.

He’d stumbled over his apology to Jaskier—not the one in the prison cell, his real apology—and the bard had laughed at him. He’d panicked for about two seconds, which was as long as it took for Jaskier to close the distance between them and pull Geralt into an embrace.

“I’ll always forgive you, dear heart,” he’d said. “It might make me fucking stupid, but that’s never stopped me before.”

“Taking my lines now, huh?” Geralt had replied, hugging Jaskier back with a bone-deep warmth he’d never felt before.

Maybe he’d never felt warm before because he never let himself get close enough to the heat.

Now, Jaskier is strumming his lute and singing some silly song about shutting up and dancing, and Ciri is giggling as she leads Geralt through the steps of a dance. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, and she’s wearing a dress that Jaskier and Yennefer had managed to produce from someplace or another.

“Spin me,” she says, laughing too much for it to sound like a proper order, but he obeys anyway, smiling indulgently as he grabs his daughter by the waist and lifts her up, spinning around a few times before setting her down, grasping her hand, and twirling her on her own feet. She laughs harder, her joy ringing out into the snow, into the music.

The music stops, but Jaskier keeps singing, and Geralt glances over to see the bard dancing with Lambert, both men laughing just as much as Ciri. It only takes another second for her to notice, and she spins once more with Geralt before reaching out to switch, falling into a waltz with Jaskier and leaving the two witchers to quickly decide whether to continue dancing.

Lambert decides for both of them, hooking his elbow around Geralt’s and skipping in a circle, dragging Geralt with him.

They switch directions a few times, and then Ciri is shoving her way between them to dance with Lambert, leaving Geralt to be caught deftly by Jaskier and maneuvered into a different dance, one that causes them to be pressed close together. Jaskier keeps singing, keeps grinning, but his eyes have softened as he gazes up at Geralt’s face.

Geralt, feeling seen and insecure, dares a glance toward his brother and daughter. Lambert, roaring with laughter, is throwing Ciri into the air and catching her with ease. Jaskier has gone through enough choruses that they both know the words, so as Lambert heaves Ciri upwards again, they’re both singing along.

“She said ‘shut up and dance with me!’”

Jaskier stops singing to chuckle at them, but joins back in during the next repetition, with one notable change.

“This witcher is my destiny,” he says teasingly, and looks nothing but delighted by the concept, unlike everyone else forced into Geralt’s life by destiny.

The thing is, Jaskier wasn’t a result of destiny. He’s here by choice, and if he’s so happy to joke that he’s destined to be here, with Geralt, then—

Geralt kisses him.

Jaskier makes a surprised humming sound and returns the kiss eagerly, his hands going from Geralt’s shoulders to the back of his neck as he stands up on his toes to get closer.

“Oi, bard, the song doesn’t end in the middle of the lyric like that, right? Why’d—oh,” Lambert says. “About time. Fucking morons.”

“Gross,” says Ciri. “But yeah. It is about time.”

Maybe Geralt wasn’t meant for soft things. But he’s learning, day by day, that maybe that doesn’t mean he has to live a life without them.

—

and here’s the rest of the drawing of all the dance combinations! the fic took me like 10 minutes and the drawing took a few hours😭

#geraskier #geralt & ciri #kaer morons #finley writes #my writing #finley cannot draw #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #ciri the witcher #cirilla fiona elen riannon #lambert the witcher #the witcher fic #LISTEN. #my bf hates ​jaskiers hair in s2 and I frown at him every time he mentions it but also. what if it was long enough to put in a ponytail. #just consider it. #and I know ciris hair is lighter and straighter than that but cmon yennefer and jaskier are important figures in her life #THEYRE GONNA DO HER HAIR ALL FANCY SOMETIMES

[silentmagi]

Rising Star

Main Page

We have once again somehow, some way achieved a tie between two options. What are those two options? Well, let’s find out:

What’s about to go wrong?

3. Nothing

4. Animal attacks

Now, because you cannot have both of these options at the same time, I relied on one final impartial part… I flipped a coin three times. The result was 2:1 in favor of…

3. Nothing

Merry Christmas, and enjoy!

It was nice, not having to fight the weather after the past few days, and the hot meal warming their bodies from the inside out was lifting their spirits. Sitting around the fire while Luna played a song on her lute, and told a story of long ago, Star watched with a smile on her face.

She had not known her for long, but the bard was starting to feel like she could possibly be a friend. That was a scary thought, if she let it linger. She hadn’t been interested in making friends for a long time, and worried this was going to slow down her studies and distract her from the goal of saving magic.

Closing her eyes, she let the music wash over her and just allowed herself to relax for the time being as she tried to process the past few days. She would be tempted to read something from the wagon, if it wasn’t completely soaked. It was too dangerous to unroll them as the ink could run or the paper fall apart.

So her mind did what it did best, took a subject that it was focused upon and broke it apart. Luna was warm and gentle, funny, intelligent, and beautiful… and didn’t seem to judge her for being herself. She even thought she was interesting.

That could also be a bad thing, since interesting to bards usually means ones that are destined to suffer from adventures. Adventures that she was not in any sense of the word interested in… but what if it was her destiny? What if it was her adventure that would cause the restoration of magic?

The soft chair, lovely music and long past couple days were enough to lull her to sleep, and it was there that she found something strange waiting for her.

#Story #My Writing #Rising Star #My Polls #Star #World Building #Please Participate #Star Main

[lec743-my-art]

Merry Christmas Secret Santa @primary-visions

            The day was coming to an end. The sky was painted with bright oranges, light pinks, and stark purples and indigo, just enough light for the three travelers to see by as they made it to their destination. The town was small but thrived on the travelers that must pass through to reach farther lands. There was a comfy inn called Drunk Rats. There was an obvious sign of forgers and black smith smokestacks further in town, but the three travelers were too tired to truly explore the town further than what they could see. Well, the only human of the group was tired. The two automatons traveling with the human could continue for forever if they so choose, but it was time for the two to check if anything needs oiling or if dust needs to be taken out of gears. Staying at an inn was a great place to check for such things.

            “Oh! This place is so cute looking. Do you think I should have my house here?” Soliel asked as he examined the old but sturdy building they were entering. His metal hands touched at the wood gently as he walked with the others.

            The inn wasn’t overwhelmingly loud, but it was noisy with low talking as a dwarf bard near the fireplace strummed on her lute. Candle holders caked with the remains of past candles sat against the support beams of the building as the newly lit candles’ lights danced, giving the whole place a soft golden glow.

            “You say that about every village or town we walk into,” Hati stated, ribbing his follow automat with playfulness and annoyance.

            “There are so many good places to live at!” Soliel said, getting defensive. “I want to live at the perfect place.”

            The human companion, the artificer of the group, sighed at their bickering. They left Hati and Soliel to bicker like siblings that have been together for far too long as they approached the owner of the inn at the front desk.

            “Hi. Do you have room for the three of us? We’ll just take one room.”

            The human woman looked like she was nearing her golden age. Maybe in her fifties if the gray in her blond hair told them anything. The front desk woman had on a very low-cut dress that was brown and blue in color. It looked nice on her. She looked at the artificer and then at their bickering companions behind them. “Are those things yours?”

            The human companion sighed in disappointment at that. “They’re my friends.”

            There was a pause as the older woman looked at the artificer with one cocked eyebrow. They didn’t elaborate to the woman, so she shrugged then said, “It’ll be two gold pieces per night stay. Do you have any horses or livestock with you?”

            “No, it’s just the three of us,” they said as they dug out ten gold pieces. Then they placed them on the counter and the woman took the money and placed a key in its place.

            “Your room will be upstairs, on the right, at the end of the hallway.”

            “Thank you.”

            They went back to their automaton buddies. They overheard them fighting over hypotheticals about how they would handle fighting a bugbear. Hati was proudly saying he’d demolish the bugbear with the perfect strike while Soliel gave him the most leveling look an automaton could give when his face is only a mask of an artistic sun.

            “Okay. Let’s go boys. I hear a bath calling my name.”

            “Coming,” they both cheered as they followed the artificer up the stairs.

            The next day, as the sun rose, Soliel was the first to rise and he went to explore the little town. It was full of people. Mostly humans, as he’s accustomed to seeing, but he has also noticed there’s another thriving population of lizardfolk as well, along with a small, odd population of dwarves, elves and half-orcs. It really did seem like a nice town, with old but well-kept buildings, a flower shop, a sizable food market, two smith shops, a ceramic shop and a stone and wood cutter shop. Soliel circled back to the food market to buy a little snack for his sunshine friend but as he browsed what the food stalls had to offer, he noticed that there really wasn’t much to see. The portions were much too small for what size they should have been, or they were so old that they were starting to rot a bit, which isn’t a good sign.

            Soliel looked to the current food stall owner, who’s stall that he was browsing, and it was a young lizardfolk man sitting behind the cart. He was maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. His scales looked dull, and his face looked gaunt, like he hasn’t had a good meal in a while. He was wearing a simple tunic shirt and it hung off him loosely.

            “Excuse me my good man.”

            The lizardfolk man blinked a bit, like he was taken out of his thoughts and then he turned his snout towards the automaton. He blinked some more before his eyebrow ridges raised higher on his face as he regarded Soliel. “Yes?”

            “I was just wondering, is your town coming across hard times recently.” The bardic automaton motioned towards the lizardfolk’s wares for emphases.

            The lizardfolk man sighed as he leaned back into his chair. “No. It is not recently. It’s been four years.”

            “Oh my! What’s wrong?”

            “Look. I don’t have time for your curiosity, stranger. Either buy something or leave.” He didn’t say it with any power. He sounded like a man who’s extremely tired.

# # #

            “What do you mean he won’t tell me more! I rolled high on my charisma! I persuaded the heck out of him!” Sun whined to you, the Dungeon Master.

            “Look Sun, that’s just all he’s willing to answer. He doesn’t see you as a threat but you’re just an automaton to him. He doesn’t know your backstory, so he doesn’t think you’d understand anything more than what he said.”

            Sun slouched in the kitchen chair as he crossed his arms with a huff.

            Moon chuckled playfully as he rolled a twenty-sided die between his fingers. “You should have threatened him if you wanted more information.”

            Sun sighed, his voice box glitching to give it a gravelly affect. “That’s not the point of my character.”

            From across the kitchen table, Moon shrugged with little remorse at him.

            “So are you going to leave the lizard man alone, Sun,” you asked.

            “I’ll buy those carrots and leave,” he said in defeat as he leaned his flat face up to the ceiling in another show of pouting.

            You nod and then turn back to Moon. “Okay. What is Hati up to then as this is going on, Moon?”

            Moon gave a thoughtful hum as he considered his choices.

# # #

            Hati snuck through the gray alleyways of the town in the early morning. Having left his little artificer to sleep alone as soon as Sun left. He was scouting out the town for the richest people he can steal from. Some small part of Hati could practically hear Soliel say how he shouldn’t steal from people or how wrong it is. His long-time friend and assumed brother isn’t wrong, but Hati doesn’t care. He likes the thrill of stealing from the rich and using it for himself to buy whatever he wants. He sometimes even gives what he steals to the poor kids they encounter on their travels and that usually shuts up Soliel.

            Eventually he came across a government building that was just starting to wake up. At least that’s what it seemed to Hati from his observations. The automaton snuck into the building through a locked back door. The few people he crossed as he snuck through the government building were some general staff that were talking about how hard it’s been to feed their kids and when they are going to be able to farm properly again. Hati shrugged at that as he continued his way to where he deduced the mayor’s coffers to be.

            He narrowly avoided being caught by the mayor’s secretary as he was trying to unlock the door that led to the mayor’s office and therefor to their coffers. The secretary was running out of the office after getting news of some kind. Hati didn’t care for what for, he just wanted money and to get out of there. He inspected the mayor’s office to find it looking drab. Usually, a head of office has a luxurious setting with unnecessary gold-plated items. Hati mentally shrugs at the lack of finery. Relegating it to the town being too small for the mayor to get away with. He found the safe and unlocked it with ease. All that was in the safe was a pouch of thirty silver pieces.

# # #

            “Ah! What!” Moon complained over Sun’s laughter.

            “That’s all you find Moon,” you repeat.

            “Noooo! My character isn’t interested in stealing if it’s not gold. How does a government office not have gold!” Moon ranted.

            “Well, obviously this town isn’t doing so well,” Sun stated with smug satisfaction.

            Moon could only grouch some more against Sun and you.

            “Will you now check to see if there are any papers or documents for why this town is falling on such hard times?” Sun pleaded.

            Moon mechanically sighed, then said, “Fine… What do I roll for again DM?”

            “Investigation.”

            Moon took his twenty-sided die and tossed it on the table. It made little clacking noises before settling. “What does a 12 get me?”

            You cleared your throat. “You’ve been in plenty of offices before. You easily spot that there is a locked filing cabinet in the back right corner of the room, behind the mayor’s desk.”

            “Alright. Let me just roll for Slight of Hand and unlock this sucker.” Moon rolled his twenty-sided die again. “Yes! An eighteen! So all together that’s a twenty-seven.”

            “Tell me again why you chose to be a ranger and not a rouge,” you asked.

            “It’s too on the nose,” Moon said with a shrug.

            “Sometimes, being on the nose isn’t so bad,” Sun stated.

            Moon gave his sunny counterpart the best dead pan look that a robot can when their face is frozen in a permanent smile.

# # #

            Hati muttered to himself as he looked through the papers. Documents of the dead. Documents of newborns. Documents of housing. Reports on farms. Hati decided to look through those a bit more closely. From his quick scanning of the texts, Hati found that the town is having a bit of a bear problem. He would have looked more into it now that his curiosity has been piqued, but then he heard someone running down the halls towards the office he was in, and he had to bail out of the nearest window. He initially tried to jump through the window while it was closed, but he wasn’t strong enough to break it and instead had to open it and then jump out the window. He jumped with the grace of an egg falling out of a nest and hurting himself as he landed on the ground. He quickly ran back to The Drunk Rats Inn.

            The Artificer was drinking water-down beer for breakfast as it seemed that was all the Inn Keeper and Cook were able to provide as food, when Hati and Soliel came back from their exploring. Hati was walking like his ass was broken and Soliel was holding the sadist bundle of carrots the Artificer has ever seen.

            “What have you two been up to?”

            “Something is wrong here,” they both said. Then in sync both automatons turned to each other and pointed at each other at the same time, saying, “You too?”

            “Slow down. Why don’t you two sit down with me and then tell me what’s going on,” The Artificer stated.

            “Uh… Soliel, do you mind giving me a hand?”

            The sunshine robot rolled his head as he let out a mechanical sigh. He sat the carrots on the table in front of their human friend then he pulled out his ukulele and sang a little song to heal the broken machinery of Hati’s ass.

            “Thank you,” the moon themed robot said cheerfully.

            Soliel only grumbled a bit in response as he sat down with him and the Artificer. Hati went first telling the group about what he found, and he rolled his head as they told him how much they disapproved of him trying to steal from people… again. Then Soliel talked about his little romp through town and how lovely it is here but also how everyone doesn’t seem to be all that well fed.

            “You think that has anything to do with those bear problem reports you found, Hati,” the Artificer asked.

            “I don’t know how a bear or even a group of bears could make things go so wrong around here. I would think the local rangers would have taken them down by now.”

            “Maybe they don’t have rangers in this area,” Soliel suggested.

            The Artificer stood up and took the carrots with them and said, “Welp, there’s only one way to find out. Let’s go talk to some elderly.” The Artificer took the carrots with them, taking a bite out of them as the three of them walked, unfazed by the bad taste of the old carrots.

            The three of them found the town square. There were young children gathered together talking or napping under the shade of the buildings and trees. A few young adults were cleaning the town square, making sure it’s clear of dirt and leaves. The elderly was in their own corner sitting around tables and playing boardgames of some kind. The three adventurers approached the elderly. Only one acknowledged their approached as he looked at them suspiciously.

            “What do you strangers want?” The old man had a long gray beard, and the sun shined on his bald head, as if he somehow took the hair on his head and decided to place it on his face to shake up the last years of his life. He was rail thin, but he still had a fire in his eyes, like he’d use his skeleton-like hands to cut you open with just his fingernails.

            “Well, my friends and I have noticed that your town seems to be having a hard time,” the Artificer started, “and we’re trying to figure out what’s wrong so we can help if we can. So what’s going on?”

            “No! That’s none of your concern!” The old man stated as the other elderly nodded in agreement. Except for one lady who was hidden by the crowd saying, “Uh, we could use the help actually.” The old man turned towards the old woman’s voice and yelled, “Ah, shut up, Linda, they weren’t asking you!”

            Hati took a step forward and lend towards the old man, then said, “Well now we are.”

            Soliel was already walking towards Linda, “Pardon us.”

            The old lady was bald, and you could obviously see that she didn’t have any teeth, but she still had a smile on her face that made the initial hostility surrounding them, seem dimmer.

            “So what is going on, Madam,” Soliel asked politely.

            “There’s this monstrous bear out in the woods that has three heads—”

            “Bah! Your eyes are bad! It was a normal bear!” The old man stated.

            “We weren’t asking you, now shut up,” Hati told off the old man. He was officially cowed by the moon themed automatons’ words.

            “Please continue,” Soliel gently coxed Linda to continue.

            “There’s this three-headed bear in the woods. It’s been giving us trouble ever since it’s been here. We’ve sent out so many rangers after it, who have never come back, that it’s felt useless to even ask for help anymore.”

            “Well, we’re willing to help. We can take care of it for you,” Soliel said.

            The old man spoke up with a shake to his voice, “Pah! What makes you three so special? I bet you’ll be asking for money for this service you are wanting to do.”

            The Artificer quickly spoke up, “Of course. It’s only just enough money to support us to the next town we travel to. We need to eat and survive as well.”

            The old man grumbled to himself as the other old folk nodded to that sound logic. The three of them get as much information as they can out of the towns folk and they bargained that if they succeed in killing the supposed three headed bear, they would be paid thirty gold pieces. Once everything was settled, the three adventures gathered their things and made their way into the nearby forest.

            As the three of them walked through the forest, Soliel decided to softly strum on his ukulele to pass the time. Their human friend was lost in their own thoughts thinking about what new magical buffs they can add to their automaton friends. Hati took the lead as the ranger of the group and was trying to find bear tracks. After an hour of walking, Hati had suddenly stopped, and the other two-party members ran into him as a result.

            “Dang it, Hati, what was that for. I was on a rhythm,” Soliel complained.

            Hati put a finger to his face mask and made a shushing noise. Then in a whisper he asked, “Do you hear that?”

            The three of them stood silently in the softly lit forest. All that was heard was the slight rustling of the breeze through the trees.

            “I don’t hear anything,” the Artificer whispered. Soliel nodded in agreement with them.

            “That’s right. There’s nothing. Not the sound of birds. Not the sound of wolves. Or dear or ferrets or any other animal that belongs to this forest. It’s too quiet. It’s like not even the insects are here.”

            The Artificer felt goosebumps prickle their skin and Soliel huddled closer to them as they gripped their ukulele a little tighter.

            “Did this bear just eat everything that’s in this forest?” The Artificer asked as they seriously took in their surroundings.

            Hati took out two arrows from his quiver for him to grip in each hand. “I would bet good money on that being the case. Let’s keep moving. I know we’re getting closer to it.”

            After that, the three of them got lost in the woods for an undetermined amount of time, because Hati was too proud to say he got lost after saying something that he thought made him sound cool. Eventually, the three of them got back on track. At a clearing in the woods, the party then found a big, dark cave with dried blood splattering its entrance and bones scattered everywhere.

            “I think it would be nice if one of us knew necromancy,” the Artificer whispered.

            “Yah, we could raise a whole skeleton army here,” Soliel whimpered.

            “Welp, no time like the present to get this done,” Hati said. Then he ran screaming into the cave making his friends jump at the sudden noise.

            Exasperated, Soliel yelled, “Hati why!”

            The lunar automaton moved too fast for them to react and all they could do was watch him disappear as his voice echoed inside the cave. The two of them stood quietly as it got quiet in the cave.

            “Oh good. It seems the bear isn’t in it’s cave right now,” the Artificer sighed.

            Soliel felt a hot, wet breath on the back of his scrawny neck. The solar automaton whipped around so fast it made the human jump and the two of them came face to face with a bear. Its head is so large it was as long as Soliel was tall. Its eyes were blood shot, and drool dripped down its fuzzy maw. Then something moved around the neck of the giant bear, almost hidden and blended into its long, dark brown shaggy fur. It was two more heads, smaller than the head in the middle, but still just as dangerous looking. For the longest moment, the two of them stared down the massive creature as it sniffed at them. All six eyes then shifted to the Artificer.

            “Oh, no…” They said as they started to back up from the encroaching bear.

            In a panic Soliel cast Confusion on the three headed bear, music filled the air making the world seem wobbly and weak. His human friend shook their head against the music, resisting the magic the solar automaton cast. The three headed bear wasn’t so lucky as it recoiled and stood on its hind legs, looking as tall as a two-story tall building.

            “Sorry!” Soliel yelled.

            “It’s good! I’m good!”

            An arrow shot forward and then hundreds more followed suit. The bear cried in pain, but only attached a near by tree. The two heroes turned to see Hati standing at the entrance of the cave, his bow smoking from using the spell Conjure Volley.

            “So, the cave is empty.”

            “Oh, you don’t say,” Soliel snapped back.

            “Now’s not the time to argue,” their human friend yelled as they took special manacles out of their bags and placed them on their arms. Then like angel wings, four giant olden mechanical arms appeared on their back, having casted Bionic Arms on themselves. “I’m going to try and pin its heads.” They climbed up the bear, using the arrows lodged into its hide as leverage to climb up faster. The human managed to get on top of the middle head of the bear, but just as they were about to grapple the jaws shut, clarity came back to the bears eyes, and it immediately tried to shake the Artificer off. “Aaaaa! Heeeeelp!!!”

            Soliel strummed on his ukulele and sang a song called Hold Monster. Immediately the three headed bear was still, but its body trembled as it tried to fight off the magical hold it was under. The human sighs in relief.

            Hati shot two arrows from his bow at the bear, both striking true. The second arrow caused thick spiney vines to spout out of the ground and wrap around the three headed bear’s hind legs. Even though it couldn’t open its mouth as it was still being held down by Soliel’s magic, they heard it cry viciously from the pain.

            The Artificer placed a pair of hands on each head, then used Taser. A charge of deadly electricity raced through the bear, causing its fur to smoke. Then the bear managed to break free of Soliel’s magic and one of the smaller bear heads managed to grab the Artificer by their boot. The bear shook them around before releasing them. The human flew through the sky and hit their back against a thick tree trunk and flopped to the forest floor.

            Soliel reactively ran towards their human friend but as he tried to get to them, the bear managed to catch him with its paws and sent the automaton flying backwards, making him disappear into the bushes of the forest. The bear then got to work on biting the spiney vines off of its body.

            Hati let loose another spell of Conjure Volley. Hitting the bear mostly in its back as it was in pain but still focused on getting itself free from the vines. The lunar automaton pulled out two arrows from his quiver and then charged at the bear with the arrows held high above his head.

            The Artificer struggled to get back on to their feet, even when using their extra limbs as crutches. They looked up in time to see Hati flinging himself at the three headed bear. “Hati! It’s not even restrained anymore!” Their friend ignored them as the ranger robot continued to stab the now free bear with his arrows. The bear set its eyes on the human and growled hungerly at them as they started to lumber towards the only flesh and blood being within a hundred-foot radius. The Artificer pulled out a disk from their bag and as the bear got closer and opened its jaw towards them, the human threw the disk into their mouth. The bear retracted a bit, finding the odd disk tasting funny, then the human magically set it off and the disk blew up like a bomb in the bear’s mouth. The middle head gurgled in pain as the other two heads howled in pain with the middle head.

            Soliel managed to finally drag himself out of the bush and came back into the clearing seeing that Hati was hanging on to the bear’s chest hair, and that his human friend was essentially cornered by a bloody mouthed bear. The bardic robot shook the leaves out of his ukulele and then started to strum Vicious Mockery, telling the bear how stupid it is and how weak and pathetic it is and how it doesn’t belong in the forest. It shook the three headed bear to its core. Hati barely managed to get out of the way as the bear fell to its stomach.

            Hati aimed an arrow into the sky and as the arrow fell towards the downed bear, he cast Conjure Barrage and hundreds of arrows rained on the bears back. The bear let out a weak roar.

            The Artificer kept their distance from the bear as they pointed with three hands at the creature. Then they let loose another Taser spell at the bear’s head. With one last weak gargle, the bear died before the three of them. The three of them sighed in relief.

            “That was rough,” the human stated as they wiped sweat off their brow.

            “That was an invasive species if I’ve ever seen one,” Hati remarked as he put away his bow and arrows.

            “Yah, and maybe next time, don’t just run headfirst into a problem,” Soliel scolded his fellow automaton.

            “It’s dead, isn’t it?”

            “Guys, let’s cut its head off so we have proof we did the job. Soliel, do you have any juice left to heal me. I’m not feeling too good.”

            The solar robot got it’s ukulele in position, “Of course.

# # #

            “And then the three of you managed to drag the heads to the town and the towns folk rejoiced and had a big celebration in your honor for actually defeating the monster that has been terrorizing them for years. You were given your thirty gold pieces like you were promised and extra travel supplies as an extra thank you for what you three did. The end.” You said, finishing the campaign.

            “Yay! Happy ending,” Sun said as he clapped.

            “Thank you for this. We really enjoyed playing this with you,” Moon stated.

            “Of course. I’m happy you two were interested in trying it with me.”

            Sun nodded with a giddy mechanical hum and Moon held your hand. Then the three of you cleaned up your dnd mess and continued your day doing chores and personal hobbies.

#my art #digital art #fnaf #fanfiction #secret santa present #DCASS2023 #for primary-visions

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern AU) - Game Night

Jaskier loves music. It is his career, and he spends the majority of his days listening to it, creating it, and sharing it. It's an important part of his life that he is very passionate about.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't have other interests or things that he obsesses over. He likes games in particular. He'll sit down with Geralt and the other Witchers and play some video games, a card game, or a few rounds of pool. Sometimes he'll play a board game with Geralt, Yennefer, and Ciri.

But there is one game he gets really excited about playing. He is a huge fan of D&D. He has a custom D&D table, and has made a few diroamas. And he is obsessed with collecting dice. He follows several custom dice makers on tiktok, and is constantly showing the ones that catch his eye to Geralt, but he very rarely buys any.

Everytime he goes on a tour with his band, or goes on the Path with Geralt, he always keeps an eye out for places that might sell dice. He almost always comes back empty-handed.

He could easily buy anything he wanted, being a sucessful bard, and a Viscount, but he rarely buys anything for himself. He prefers to use his money for more sensible things, like taking care of his family, and making sure his band has what it needs. And making sure he is more fashionably dressed than Valdo Marx, because f**k him!

Yennefer doesn't understand Jaskeir's obsession with the dice. The closest she can compare it to is a magpie's obsession with shiny things.

He had been so excited when Eskel had brought him a custom made set of dice that looked like they contained small galaxies. He had hugged the Witcher, then run off, doing this weird little excited goblin run. The dice had been placed in a display box, on a special shelf in his room. He would occassionally bring them out to use for special game nights.

And he doesn't just use the dice for his games. He uses them when he and Geralt can't agree on something, or to make a decision.

Yennefer cannot acurately the describe the feeling of utter dread/panic/suspicion, or Impeding Doom that twisted up her stomach every time Jaskier hands her a die and says "Yen, quick! Roll this for me!"

Yennefer: *reluctantly rolls die*

Jaskier: "20!? Thanks, Yen!" *runs to the kitchen excitedly shouting* "Geralt! Geralt, 20!"

Yennefer *sits there internally panicking* 20 what? What was the number for? Was it 20 kittens? Was it number 20 on a list of options for snacks? Was it a destination? Was it the number of grapes Jaskier was going to try to shove up his a**??? She doesn't know. All she knows is that if Geralt starts laughing, it's going to be something cringey, stupid, dangerous, or possibly all three.

She hears them giggling in the bathroom later, and someone whispering "Stop laughing, you're making them fall out!"

Yennefer bangs on the door. "Jaskier! You better not be shoving grapes up your a**!"

"I'm not!"

*muffled giggling*

Yennefer: You better not be shoving grapes up Geralt's a**!

Geralt: *muffled giggling*

Jaskier: *disappointed whine* "Awww-! D*mn it, Geralt! Now we have to start all over!"

Yennefer decides she doesn't want to know.

She doesn't really have a great deal of interest in D&D itself, but she knows just about everything there is to know about it, thanks to the weekly game nights.

She was excited at first, listening to them talk about their campaigns the following day, but when she actually sat in on a game, she found it...tedious. Their characters,on the other hand, were interesting and creative.

For example, Jaskier's character (a Bard, of course) was just a pair of hands that (at first) communicated in a combination of sign language and rude gestures, played the lute, and made sex jokes.

His character later gained the ablity to speak by making a 'talking' motion with the hands. And proceeded to talk and argue with himself, carry on an almost non-stop Statler and Waldorf running commentary, sing, and make rude/inappropriate gestures. And try to randomly poke his companions in the a**.

His favorite spell was 'Mega B*tch Slap', which he'd made up, they'd argued about, but had ended up allowing it because 'why not?'.

The world itself was interesting, but the actual quests/adventures took forever. This was mostly because they spent the majority of their time rolling to end a parade of arguments. Most of the game was spent rolling to see if one of them would be allowed to do something.

They spent an hour at an Inn, rolling to see who the barmaid liked best.

They rolled to see who the horses liked better.

They rolled to see if Lambert could start the campaign completely hammered.

They rolled to see if one of them could fight a battle bucka** nekkid

They rolled for d*ck length.

They rolled to see if Geralt was allowed to turn himself into a horse.

They rolled for Horse Geralt's d*ck length.

Yennefer discovered that there was barely a serious moment in any of their campaigns. All manner of improbable and impractical things happened. Dead Cow Balloons, Dead Elf Boogie Board, Crab Tornado, Exploding Chickens, Bag of Singing D*cks... and the she couldn't forget the most powerful weapon ever forged. The Jabbing Stick of Instant Death. It was literally just a stick with a pointy end, but one jab and it was all over.

Yennefer did find all the absurdity and unpredictability amusing, but she just didn't have the patience for all the rolling.

Which is why she volunteered to be in charge of cooking for game night. That and she was appalled when she found out what they were eating during their gaming sessions.

Yennefer had walked into the game room with some drinks, "What the h*ll are you eating?"

"Grilled Cheese Sandwiches and Tomato Soup?" Jaskier had said, casually stirring his soup.

"That's not-! Those are cheese puffs floating in, in tomato sauce!"

"I put some of that chicken powder stuff in it,"

"That's not tomato soup! Or grilled cheese!"

"But it's like tomato soup and grilled cheese." Jaskier replied.

Yennefer turned at the sound of a plastic water bottle crinkling, and saw Geralt squeeze a mushy white substance into his mouth, then follow it up with a handful of shredded cheese straight from the bag. "Geralt! What the-!"

"Baked potato," Eskel explained, shaking some instant mashed potato flakes into his water bottle, letting Geralt heat the water in it with Igni, then shaking it.

Lambert glared at her, daring her to say anything about the bowl of pizza rolls covered in so much ranch dressing that he was eating them with a spoon.

There was a soft scrape of a plastic spoon against metal. Coen was eating Spaghetii-O's right out of the can.

"You all eat like f***ing stoners!!! I'm going to make you some real food!"

From then on, Yennefer cooked for them on game nights. It was simple fare, mostly things that made her feel like she was feeding a pack of children.

Dinosaur chicken nuggets, macaroni, and cheese, hotdogs, etc. But they never complained about it. In fact, they seemed excited about the food. Especailly one dish that she discovered was their favorite.

Jaskier had walked into the kitchen for some drinks, saw the cans and the hotdogs on the counter, and gone bolting back to the game room, with an excited whoop of, "F**K YEAH, BEANIE WEENIES!!!"

Sometimes, if Jaskier hadn't been too aggravating that week, Yennefer would make tavern food for them, to kind of fit the theme of their game.

Yennefer would leave them to their game and go about her evening, then curl up with her old cat plush, Sammy, and go to sleep. Sometimes she would have to make a trip to the game room to yell at them to be quiet.

And in the morning, she was woken up by The Ritual of The Most Holy Burrito. Every morning following a game night, five grown-a** men would microwave breakfast burritos, hold them over their heads, and dance through the living room while singing every verse of the sacred hymn "Yum Yum Breakfast Burritos".

She started leaving blankets and pillows on the couch after she'd gone in one morning after a game night and found them all sleeping scattered around the room and using various items as blankets.

Lambert was using a week-old pizza box someone had forgot to throw away.

Coen was under the gaming table.

Geralt and Jaskier were using Eskel.

Yennefer had started a collection of Game Night Aftermath photos that she regularly shared with Madeleine when they would go out on their Girls Only Days.

Unless the photo was so extraordinarily humorous or adorable that she would text it to her immediately.

Like the photo of Jaskier using Eskel's a** as a pillow.

Or the picture of Geralt passed out on the game table with his tits out.

And the assorted photos of shirtless Witchers in cuddle piles

Yennefer decides that game nights aren't so bad after all.

#the witcher #the witcher headcanon #the witcher modern au #the witcher netflix #twn #geralt #geralt of rivia #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #eskel #coen #lambert #kaer morons #geraskier #geraskefer #geraskifer #yenskier #yennskier #yennaskier #yenneskier #game night headcanon

[thewatercolours]

PART TWELVE - Replaying King's Quest, Chapter Three (2016)

You know they're the one when you can both fall down the entire length of a mountain together, bumping into boulders, trees, and foot-long thorns at 80 kph, and you both just brush it off and get on with being kind to wolves together like it's no big deal.

I'm not all that fond of the crossing the gorge puzzle.

The litter problem in this forest is abysmal.

So we're caught in the net trap now, and I observe that Graham must have picked his most recent hairstyle because it keeps his hat in place when upside down much better than the old one did. (It's another very funny looking hairstyle when the hat's off, but better than the slickback.)

Aw! YES! I did save Bramble from prison! And it's awesome to hear it acknowledged! Actually I saved everyone this time and I am delighted. No need to guilt Graham out this time, Princess Madeline.

(Purely fanonical observation here, but I propose that the name Triumph suggested for Miss Coatrack at the beginning was "Madeline." Because that would make for three Madelines in this small world.)

Graham speaks squirrel very well, and so does Neese. This Graham has absolutely no need of the... was it a white snake scale from Crispin that made him able to able to understand animals. But then again, original Graham doesn't really either. He was talking very ably with Cedric prior to meeting Crispin, and I am not sure he ever listen to/talks with animals again in that game, unless you count harpies and Manannan the cat.

Navigating so high in the treetops that there's mist down below. What kind of forest is this? A forest for adventurers, to be sure! Maybe another reason why the date with Vee feels more right in its way. There's nothing necessarily more adventurous about a forest than a beach - we can have our Robinson Crusoes as well as our Robin Hoods - but the forest fits with the fairytale-inspired quality of KQ better, and the beach is played more as a tropical resort destination. So the woods just feel more right to me as a memorable place for Graham and his beloved.

Rosy evening with floating, twinkling, golden lights! Lute serenade time! The smile they give each other as they realize, yes, it's time for a kiss. Their relationship as an adventure. Two goofs in love. :-)

#revisiting chapter three