#elf pheromones

[rennebright]

エリナリーゼ by 自家太郎 ※Illustration shared with permission from the artist. If you like this artwork please support the artist by visiting the source.

#elinalise dragonroad #エリナリーゼ・ドラゴンロード #mushoku tensei #無職転生 #jobless reincarnation #zikataro #posted art #elf pheromones

[bloodlust-1]

You’re too sweet for me ₊ ⊹ part 2

Halsin x fem Tav (dark urge) — Explicit 18+

Summary: Tav takes a dip in the river to calm those pesty dark thoughts, hoping it'd help settle these murderous urges. But things turn interesting when Halsin finds her, offering to keep her company in the water. If only he knew just how pure he was in her eyes, a shame it'd be to destroy such an image.

TW: SMUT!

Note: Enjoy sinners.

-> Part 1 <-

AO3

Lovely photo by @moonslittlestar

He leaned in, pressing tender kisses along Tav’s neck, feeling the litter of goosebumps under his lips. His tongue traced delicate patterns along the sensitive veins of her skin, sending waves of pleasure through her body. Tav closed her eyes and surrendered to the tingly sensation of his lips.

Halsin nipped at Tav’s skin, his teeth enticingly grazing her nape. With each touch, he left behind a trail of gentle marks that faded darker into hickeys on her collarbones.

The warmth of his saliva felt like firey lava on her skin. Tav's breath hitched in response to every touch, bite, and suck.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, arching into his touch. Her teeth caught her lower lip, releasing soft sighs that mingled in the air. In a husky breath, Halsin groaned into her skin.

He was enjoying himself in her body. Like a follower worshipping their god.

The heat built heavily into the air, and then, a small gasp. Halsin had found Tav's nipple between the grit of his teeth. Nibbling on the bud with a rough gentleness.

It hurt too good, and she was not surprised that Halsin was delivering so well.

“You’re better than I thought.” She complimented breathily.

With a pop noise, Halsin released her nipple, “I was afraid to hurt you…" He bites down at the plush of her breast roughly, leaving behind a purple bruise, "I could have tried to be gentle, but I don't think you're interested in such softness."

Okay, now she was intrigued by his words. Tav pulled him in for another tender yet passionate kiss. It was full of teeth and tongue with the occasional lip tug.

Halsin responded quickly, lowering her body closer to his as their kiss deepened. Her fingers traced patterns on his scalp and shoulders, eliciting soft groans with a hint of pain from him.

"Take me out of this water before I change my mind." Tav roughly bit down on his earlobe, whispering dominantly into his ear.

Halsin held Tav close in his arms, pushing past the river's waves. Tav’s heart raced as she felt the strength of his embrace, her breath quickening with anticipation. He occasionally bit down at her neck, sucking until it bruised under his tongue.

When they reached the shore, Halsin laid Tav down on the soft sand, their bodies glistening with droplets of water. Their lips met again, roughly ravaging each other while Halsin's hands kneaded Tav's breasts between his fingers.

Tav’s nails traced red lines into Halsin’s back, and a mixture of pleasure and pain danced off his tongue. It wasn't anything he couldn't take.

Their kisses were passionate and intense, until her palms met Halsin's chest, and pushed him with a gentle but firm tug away from the kiss.

He hovered over her with fast breaths, confused.

Tav spoke threw each ragged breath, "Lay back."

Halsin obeys her wishes, laying his back against the soft sand. With the softest touch, Tav climbed up his body, slowly, teasingly. She burned kisses into his chest, neck, and cheekbones while positioning herself perfectly to sit upon his face.

The eyes of a hunter stare down at its prey. This hunk of an elf was no match for Tav's uncanny attitude and desires. Although, this was new for him, exciting.

With watering lips, Halsin peered up at Tav. From his pov, her wet hair hung over her face, her chest dripping with water off her breasts, and then - the pheromones of the juiciest fruit nature could offer.

He wetted his lips and waited for her command.

Tav rolled her eyes light-heartedly, "Must I give you permission for everything? Do you not know how to eat when people put food in front of your face?"

"Of course I do. I don't need an introduction for such a treat. I'll enjoy this more than you." Promise lingered in his words.

And it brought a smile to her face.

His tongue teased the outside of her folds, tasting the sweet tinge on his tongue. Tav pushed her hips closer to his mouth, practically smothering him between her thighs.

Nails dug into her hips as Halsin held onto them, forcing her even closer than before. This caused her clit to be smothered perfectly against his mouth. And his tongue didn't take long to find it.

Halsin's tongue flickers and circles eagerly on her clit, rewarding him with the sweetest moans. It'd been the nicest thing he's heard Tav speak this entire night.

Her hips rocked against his face and his cheeks had flushed a deep red shade. The blood boiled in his face and his eyes squinted tightly when the sharpness of Tav's nails dug into his scalp.

Her moans were rapid and sloppy, constantly gasping between Halsin's licks. She loved the way his face looked buried between the plush of her thighs. It fit him quite nicely.

Tav's hips swayed and Halsin's hands directed her riding his face, pulling and pushing the rock of her hips.

Tav tangled her fingers between the braids of his hair and went stiff, "F-Fuck.." Her words trembled and Halsin knew she was coming close, "Don't..Nghh - M-Move.."

Halsin fluttered his eyelashes up at her and nodded his head 'yes' continuously. His groans between her folds vibrated against her clit, making Tav throw her head back with whimpers.

Tav wanted so badly to stain his face with something more than just those tattoos.

A yelp ripped out of her lungs and she trembled and twitched under Halsin's hold, coming undone into his mouth. She could feel the warmth of his tongue dancing on her core, licking up the cum.

Tav hunched over, her palms firmly on the ground between his head, horasly catching her breath.

"You taste absolutely lovely." Halsin pops his mouth off her core, licking the corners of his mouth. His chin was covered with his spit, juices, and white slick.

Something clicked in Halsin. If he continued to let her bully him into pleasure, she'd never look at him as an equal. Only someone who can take instruction very well, not that he minded.

The time was now.

In her moment of vulnerability, Halsin grabbed Tav by her hips, lifted her back onto the sand with a soft, thud. She gasped, quickly clutching onto his shoulders before Halsin wrapped his large hand around her neck.

He squeezes lightly, pulling her up to meet his lips, but he doesn't kiss her. instead, he spoke with a deadly tone she'd never heard before, "I'm going to fuck you until every living creature knows my name."

Tav's eyes went wide and she opened her mouth, only a whimper coming out.

"Shh..There now, my heart...The only thing I want to hear is my name cry out your lips." He squeezed her throat, forcing her chin up before crashing a searing kiss on her lips.

"Now - be a good girl for me."

Tav's eyes darted down, eyeing the hardened length between his legs. And gods, was it absolutely huge. Her mouth watered at the thought of even fitting that deep in her.

"Impress me, druid." Her eyes challenged Halsin with a cheeky smirk.

Oh she was so close, if only that pretty mouth didn’t sour it.

Halsin put his hands on her knees, spreading her legs slowly apart and watching the folds of her core expose to the cool air.

Hooded eyes bore down on Tav like a peace offering. Her body folded in every way perfectly, with curves as smooth as a petal. Halsin leaned over and pressed kisses into her stomach, looking up at her as he did.

“You’re beautiful.” He mummered between kisses, suddenly planting a kiss on her core.

“M-mmmh…” She squirmed slightly, arching her back up in an attempt to follow his fleeting kisses.

Halsin's knees dug into the sand while his hand dipped into Tav's core, collecting the excess juices she provided, leaving his fingers coated in slick.

He then used that to coat his cock with his already pre-cummed tip. Slowly pumping his fist a couple times to wet his shaft.

Tav looked down at him with glistening eyes. Just how far could she fit him before it started to hurt?

The veins on his hardened length bulged out and begged to be buried deep in Tav. The invisible string pulled them closer and closer until his tip eagerly rested perfectly on her entrance.

Tav locked eye with him, not a single stammer in her words.

"Fuck me."

A sly smile crossed both their features.

His hips slowly fed inch by inch into her wet core. She took him well, except for the stretching pain more than halfway down his length. Tav dug her fingers into the sand with gritted teeth.

"Look at you." His fingers tickled her legs in small strokes, "Taking me in so well."

"Ahh...You're so big." Tav squirmed and adjusted her hips closely into his, causing a deep chuckle to rattle Halsin's lips.

"Hah - I know, love." He hunched over her body and positioned himself comfortably between her legs.

A kiss was placed softly on her lips and it eased her of the slight discomfort, "You're doing good, relax and it'll feel much better." He whispered between gentle kisses.

She let out a breathy exhale and tried to relax her lower body, opening her legs wider which earned her praise.

"Very good girl."

Tav's eyes darted at him to such praise and her face turned a dark shade of red.

"Hmm...Is that what you wanted to hear after being so bratty?"

Tav averted her eyes and went silent, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him closer, deeper into her.

Halsin smiled softly, knowing already what the answer was. He began to jerk his hips in and out, skillfully, passionately, and possessively.

Their foreheads connected, breathing heavily amongst each other's lips. Tav's walls clenched and twitched around his girth, letting herself go in a plethora of moans and whimpers.

The bed of stars with Halsin hovering right above, it was the perfect POV. Not to mention the tingly sensation that tickled between her legs up her back.

Tav hungrily searched for his lips between the constant thrusts, causing her to bob like the river waves onto the shore.

Their teeth clashed in a fight for dominance, both moans mingling heavily between sloppy kisses. He reached to cup her ass, kneading and groping the plush while fucking harder and deeper.

His harsh thrusts buried himself deep in Tav's warm walls. The sounds of whimpers and smacking skin mixed with nature's atmosphere.

Tav dug her nails into his back, causing his blood to clot under her nails.

“Nnghh - fuck.” Halsin keened in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving his mouth uncontrollably.

Tav smiled in satisfaction, the little evil thoughts in her head giggled at his every wince and whimper.

This smile didn't last too long, because Halsin suddenly shoved two fingers into her mouth, bullying his way inside her throat until she gagged and moaned around them.

His fingers rested in the sweet spot of her throat, making Tav's eyes gloss up so prettily.

Drool slicked down the side of her cheeks as her mouth hung open with hazy torn eyes. The tears streamed down her wet cheeks, and it was Halsin's direst imagination coming true.

And yet, even with gagged fingers in Tav's mouth, split apart on his cock, she still was shameless enough to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers and challenging eyes. “I want it more.”

His tone is teasing, but there's an undercurrent of seriousness that sounded so sweet in his voice, "You want it deeper, don't you? You want me to fill your cunt."

With strong arms, Halsin scooped Tav body on his lap, as he laid back and let go of her body completely. She sat perfectly on his length, twitching and trembling, gravity pulled her deeper until she was balls deep.

Tav mewled for a moment, her hands planted firmly on his broad chest. But Halsin jerked up into her just once, playfully edging her on, "Go on - show me just how much you want it."

Taking initiative, Tav dug her feet into the sand, arching her back. Her hands fell flat on his chest, knowing this would take a lot of her energy.

She leaned into her arms and began to bounce up and down on Halsin, groaning against the sweet bliss of him slipping in and out of her.

Their skin smacked against each other, and Halsin watched in complete awe as Tav's body crashed against his, her breaths and every plush of her body bouncing to her plunges.

Tav practically moaned out her lungs, fucking his cock until her knees burned and her body crumbled. But Halsin quickly grabbed a handful of her hips, using his strength to help her continue bouncing.

Their stomachs knotted into a ball of pleasure, sending tingles up their spine that dared to send them over the edge. Tav stared down at Halsin, noticing the flicker of yellow magic in his eyes with ever twitch she felt deep in her womb.

Slamming down, up, and down, Tav fucked him at a merciless pace. Loving every bit of attention he gave to her, pleasuring him.

Tav moaned out his name, knowing it would be music to Halsin's ears.

Purposely, Tav clenched her walls around him, pulling him over the edge with a yelp from their climax as both their juices spilled into each other. While Tav still bounced, the sound of juices swashed and sloppily dripped down Halsin's hips.

"Fuck - Tav..!" He breathlessly clutched tightly on her hips, forcing her into place.

She melted down onto his chest and met the swell of his lips, tongue exploring his moist mouth. She devoured his lips and lavishly kissed him with such passion.

Tav knew Halsin would forever be at her mercy, always remembering this moment when he lays lonely at night.

And there were soo many days to come.

She expects to see him more often, sauntering over after the sun goes down.

Tav traced small circles into his chest, feeling his heavy beating heart under her own, "I think we need another bath, huh? What do you say?"

There were hearts practically in his eyes. "Y-Yes...Just...I need a moment to catch my breath and I will carry you there, my heart."

A smile spread across her face, a look of trouble in her eyes, "That's what I like to hear."

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

#bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 tav #bg3 #halsin x dark urge #halsin fanfic #halsin smut #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #bg3 halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin #bg3 smut

[stonerzelda]

went to the fantasy pet store and picked up a few dark elf pixies that they had just sitting in those tiny cups at the front :( ik buying them just feeds the cycle but on my way out I pocketed a few iron fairies to join them for when I get my night orchid terrarium set up at home. Was gonna just reuse my old gnome habitat but it think their strawberry scent is still pretty strong in there and those pheromones are toxic to pixies without a proper mushroom circle enclosure nearby but bc they're known 2 use them to escape/trap their owners inside instead I'll just repurpose my fog fountain to simulate a wood curse environment 👍

#meant fog fountain but sure fig fountain. why not #im still on this concept btw. imagine

[maykitz]

caught no whiff of elf pheromone so far but not giving up

[astridellejo]

Tuli Kossa

Art for my first Daggerheart character, Tuli Kossa. They are a Wanderborne Faerie Druid, Warden of the Elements.

After seeing Critical Role's livestream of the open beta playtest, I gotta say this system looks really promising! I really like how the combat didn't bring the narrative or the roleplay or even the player interactions to a grinding halt. Everything flowed very nicely and it really encouraged spontaneous creativity. I might have to get some dice now.

Tuli's lore below the cut:

Tuli was born to a nomadic tribe of taiga elves and raised to survive and thrive in the cold northern forests, becoming quite capable at bushcraft. One autumn not long after Tuli's eighth birthday, they fell very ill and appeared to have died. The tribe moved on, leaving Tuli's body in the forest to become part of it once more. But instead of decaying, it began to scab over until it was a mass of hardened flesh.

In the spring, a new creature emerged from this flesh chrysalis, the faerie form of Tuli. Now far smaller and lighter than their former elven child body, Tuli looked like a strange amalgam of elf and dragonfly with shimmering blue and purple iridescence on their carapace and skin and wings. With this metamorphosis came a loss of voice and speech, but a gain of pheromone awareness of the world around them.

No longer a part of a tribe, Tuli had to rely on their bushcraft to survive, and a new expertise in stealth to avoid being preyed upon by other creatures, including one which seemed to be on the hunt for them.

Now age 19 and alone for a decade, Tuli seeks out civilization and a new tribe to call family.

#daggerheart #critical role #character creation #ttrpg #ttrpg art #ttrpg oc #faerie

[cassieuncaged]

Exploration - Part 1 (Astarion x Ilwyn)

1 of 3

Summary: “What in the hells is this?” suppressing a moan, his eyes darted up to find a glorious sight. His lover supped at the elixir in an unfamiliar desperation, rosy droplets running down a round chin and racing across the hollow of her throat.

“Pheromone infused wine,” she hummed, adjusting the robe that already revealed one bare shoulder. “The vendor assured me it’s a natural aphrodisiac.”

TW: non-explicit sexual content, mentions of past abuse, dissociation, language, etc.

WC: 1.4 K

A/N: yoooo, I haven't written smut in awhile and decided to add to the mountain of Astarion x Tav work their already is, lol. So have some Ilstarion fanfic (smut begins next chapter)

Memories were complicated, often tainting how one viewed many facets of present life.

At least that was how Astarion regarded his own. Two hundred years had soured his outlook on many things as life was slowly reclaimed. Autonomy, individuality, sex. All were concepts he’d attempted to regain in the months after the brain fell yet struggled with greatly.

Who he was still remained a mystery, what he wanted, how he felt…The vampire spawn felt like he was shrouded by invisible fog, attempting to live an entirely new life. One regaled in the shadows once more, despite the fact that he had company now.

He was grateful to not navigate the unknowns alone, his sorceress lover still firmly planted by his side. Ilwyn was understanding in many ways others wouldn’t be, a flower emerging from the muddiness of her own past trauma. Not to mention how young she was for an elf, still learning many things about herself as he was himself.

“I’ll be right here, my sweet star.”

She’d cooed into his ear one night after a particularly bad nightmare had destroyed his trance. Her body was warm, the scent of honeysuckle permeating her skin and bed clothes after a soothing bath. No one had ever held him like that, soothing and sweet until his rigid body began to relax against her. To be loved was to be seen, or so he had learned.

Wynnie was endlessly patient and understanding, allowing him to make choices for himself and to allow space when it was needed. Sometimes, the vampire spawn needed to clear his head, to feel the cool kiss of night tickle his cheeks and tousle his curls. If blood still pulsed beneath his skin. He was positive he’d be red as the fruit of a sun melon, leaning over the wrought iron barrier of the balcony.

How their innocent touches quickly became heated, motions filled with unbridled passion. How he felt himself drift away as Ilwyn lay spread out in nothing but slinky small clothes, her hand drifting to his breeches…

He deigned to be filled thoughts of his lover, to drown in her visage for hours, molding her body against his own in a passionate exchange, kissing and licking and nipping. Yet, the young elf carefully rolled them over so he lay with his back upon the down feathered mattress. Dismounting herself, Wynnie rubbed firm circles into a broad shoulder as Astarion’s ashen brows knit in confusion.

They were together, melding into one another so naturally and deliciously. Yet, allowing ruby eyes to shutter once had transported him into the hallows of Szarr palace, stretched across crushed satin as sure lips collided with curve of a stranger’s neck. A blonde woman, a man with bronzed skin, it never mattered who shared that damned bed.

Sex was a means to an end. Always.

Fingers would wrestle with his belt, frantically unlacing his breeches as their pleasure was pursued. And Astarion let it happen, allowing unfamiliar hands wrap around his icy length as dark eyes glazed over. There had been pleasure at first. But that was before the consequences had settled into the folds of his mind.

He was bait.

It seemed that only three months hadn’t been long enough to adjust centuries old habits.

“Stay with me, love,” warm fingers danced across his tensed bicep, noticing how pallid flesh was goose pimpled. She’d never realized that was even possible for the undead. “I’m right here.”

Words became difficult to express as his breathing steadied, arms wrapping around her torso. Astarion rested his cheek against a freckled tummy, radiating in her warmth. He craved her though found himself drifting away like a corpse in the sea. Tears began to well in ruby eyes, wincing as his withered heart hardened in his chest.

“How about we crawl back into our night clothes?” Ilwyn began, fingers tracing the ridges of the scars carved into his back. “I’ll fetch a bottle of your favorite red and we can read that book of elvish poetry we found.”

“I don’t want you to think…” his words trailed out, cold puffs of air tickling her belly. Those muscular arms wrapped around her middle as the sorceress gently shushed him. Even without the tadpole, she could practically read his mind. “You’re gorgeous. I want to be buried you in, truly. I have to…relearn.”

“I understand. We’ll take all the time that you need.” Blunt nails gently scraped against his scalp, tousling soft curls that soothed him.

“Gods,” he hummed, large hand gliding to rest on the curve of one hip, “You’re too good for me.”

“Let’s get dressed, my sweet.” A kiss was pressed against the crown of his head as the woman gently slid away, slipping her a periwinkle chemise over shorn ginger waves before his tunic was tossed across the bed, “I’ll warm the kettle and check on Scratch.”

“That sounds lovely,” he sighed, slipping his stitched tunic back on, “Then I’ll read you all the poetry I can find.”

He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting himself onto bare feet, scrabbling against hard wood before the stairs begin to softly creek. That was how he found himself settled upon their balcony, nestled outside the city and overlooking the sea. The more time spent in the wilds, the more of an appreciation for nature he’d developed.

Sometimes he understood Halsin’s virtues more and more.

The night enveloped him, fresh air lapping at the tip of his nose to remind him that he was alive. In some capacity at least. He’d leave for the Underdark tomorrow at dusk while his lover ventured to Waterdeep. The wizard swore he’d an answer to their search for the sun. Astarion doubted the man’s abilities but didn’t question that of Ilwyn’s.

If there was a way, she’d find it.

And he hoped he could recover himself along with the sun.

Tonight had been his plan to do that, to get lost in Ilwyn as he craved, doting on every curve and divot of that beautiful body he adored. Though that didn’t stop his focus from slipping, his presence sliding into the cracks of existence as the means to escape.

He needed time, they both knew that. Though it didn’t quell his racing or thoughts or the cascade of tears falling down ruddy cheeks below in the kitchen. Astarion swallowed hard, pointed ears picking up on little whimpers from below before he’d slinked downstairs himself.

The kettle hung above a raging fire, steam puffing out of the ceramic stem as Ilwyn sat curled upon the floor, idling rubbing Scratch’s ears while she wept. The mutt’s head popped up when the vampire appeared, ears equally alert.

Lithe fingers unhooked the teapot from it’s perch, settling it upon the table. A freckled face was buried in white fur, refusing to look upon her lover as he sank to his knees. It was his turn to be of comfort, cool hand running down the length of a freckled arm.

“It’s nothing to do with you,” his own voice wavers, thick with emotion as she shivers beneath him. “I love you more than anything on the very face of Toril.”

“I know that,” Wynnie sniffled, sitting up as she allowed her fingers to twine with his own. “I only wish I could help more. Could be more healing.”

“Healing comes in time, I’m afraid.” A smooth thumb circled her knuckle for a moment before he tugged her into his arms, “But hells, I don’t want you to think for one second that it has anything to do with you.”

“What if I found a way to…entice you?” she pulled back, brushing a stray curl from the brow that arched upward. “To keep you grounded.”

“That’s rather appealing.” He growls playfully, though slightly apprehensive. He’s open to suggestions but equally nervous. “What have you in mind?”

“I, erm, I’m not sure,” she admits bashfully, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, “But maybe while I’m gone-”

“If you bring this up to Gale I’ll smite the three of us,” he sneered, nervous at what such a comment could possibly mean. The wizard hadn’t any a right to hear of what happened in their bed chambers.

“I meant in Waterdeep,” the blush emblazoned across full cheeks burned against his skin. “Maybe I’ll peruse a boutique or apothecary.”

“Ahh,” then Astarion was scooping her into his lap, cradling the small elf against his chest. “Whatever it is, let's not think of now. Instead, let's enjoy each other as we are.”

For the rest of the night, they basked in the other’s innocent company, though the gears in Ilwyn’s mind had begun to grind.

#astarion #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion x f!tav #astarion x ilwyn

[jynxeddraca]

Tiefling head canons

Because I'm in a mood and thinking about tieflings makes me happy. Some of these I've thought up independently, some I've seen elsewhere online and can't recall where but I've just folded into my head canons.

Totally got this idea from another person's post but I fully embrace that some tieflings can purr. In those that can it ranges from a noise that's high in the throat or very deep in the chest. I like the idea some can do it at almost a subsonic frequency so there's not any noise but their whole chest/body still vibrates.

Tieflings have dark-vision - therefore they have that cat eye glow in low light/the dark. No I will not accept feedback at this time.

I am always a fan of them having other senses sharper than humans. Not like 'I can smell your blood through your skin from across the room and hear a cricket fart' kind of thing - but definitely pick up on things a human is nearly sure to miss.

Not a fan of tieflings going into a true heat/rut where they go totally 'must fuck now' but them getting a random heightened burst of pheromones now and then after they've been with a partner for a while - especially if there's been a lot of biting involved. Basically it's the tiefling equivalent of women who get really super frisky right around the time they ovulate.

A very common home remedy among tieflings is a mixture of broth, oil, and sulfur - and every family has it's own ratios. In that same vein a common hangover cure is broth, charcoal, and oil.

Diets are the epitome of 'opportunistic'. They prefer meat heavy diets, especially rare/raw red meats, while also enjoy the gristle, bone marrow, and blood. They can eat anything a human could, and quite a bit humans can't. This includes rocks, bones, some things that are mildly toxic/poisonous, and foods that have have gone off with minimal to no ill effects.

Because of previous point - food poisoning is extremely rare for them to get.

Tail body language is just as much apart of conversations as hand gestures and while much of it is similar to cats - meanings can get complicated.

I see horn grabbing/pulling a lot in posts but I don't feel a lot of tieflings as being super comfortable with it if the other person isn't also a tiefling.

Honestly, I see a lot of tieflings being wary about non-tieflings trying to get with them because it seems to me a lot of people in world would either demonize or fetishize their "infernal traits".

That being said, they're also not opposed to relationships outside of other tieflings and some tieflings will happily use people's curiosity/fetishization to their advantage and work at brothels.

If a tiefling has one or both parents who aren't tieflings, then they can take on traits from the non-tiefling parent (ex. one parent is an elf, tiefling kid has a lifespan more akin to a half-elf). They, and their kids, are also more likely to have a kid that does not look like tiefling if they have a baby with another non-teifling.

I fully think that a solid 1/3 of all "surprise" tiefling babies are not because a parent made an infernal pact, but because both parents somewhere in their lineage have a tiefling ancestor and they just don't know.

You've heard of tieflings being raised by humans? Well I think, because of the last two points, the reverse happens as well and you can get what appears to be a fully human/elf child birthed and raised by a tiefling.

Tieflings totally have a higher normal body temp. Probably around the 100F-105F range.

Regardless of how big or small their horns are, their skulls are still thicker for weight distribution. Many tieflings can, and will, headbutt someone in a fight. Even if a horn doesn't hit you - the blow is likely to break a bone in your face and they will not even be fazed.

Headaches and neck/shoulder tension is really, really common both because of the added weight of the horns when they're adults and when the horn itself is first growing in as a kid.

I imagine most tieflings have horns that are primarily made up of a keratin sheath around a much smaller horn bone (like how cow or goat horn are). Because of this they don't have lots of feeling in their horns and some tieflings might pierce their horns in places for decoration.

Some tieflings that have antlers also shed their antlers just like deer do. I will not be taking feedback at this time.

The pattern and shape of ridges on their skin is unique to every tiefling - but most of them tend to appear and follow bones closer to the surface (ribs, hips, knees, elbows, etc)

#tiefling #tieflings #DND #headcanon #BG3 #I do not claim any of these are consistent with 5e canon #I just play here

[floofy-astral-tail]

sucking your orc captor's cock? sloppily and passionately? making out with the bulbous head with hearts in your eyes because you're in love with it? pledging your undying love and loyalty to that mind shattering meat as the pheromones rewrite your fragile little elf brain?

#fantasy nsft #queer nsft #trans nsft #elf x orc

[mirabai0821]

WIP: Blood and Honey CH...3?

Pairings: F!Tav / Halsin Tags: N/A unless you count a bear popping a boner Word Count: 422 Summary: Scratch is missing. Halsin uses his bear to find him. Utter fucking shenanigans ensue. A/N: BAAHAHAAHAAHAHAAAHA Here's more of Blood and Honey from somewhere around chapter three. With Tav upon his back, the pair wandered away from the party and deeper into the forest. 

“Scratch! Here boy!”

Halsin growled, the rumble of it vibrating her bones. “Best to not,” He cautioned. “We do not know what hunts tonight. I will sniff him out.”

“Don’t you need a lock of his hair or a favorite toy or something?”

“Normally yes,” He answered. “But I don’t think I need to. This creature must be special to you for you to be so saturated with his scent. Did you raise him from a pup?” 

“I…no. I just met him a week or so ago.”

Halsin the Bear still had most of the faculties of Halsin the Elf. He could think and reason and plot and scheme. But the bear parsed the elf’s complex mortal emotions through a bear’s simpler lens. Therefore the admiration he felt at Tav’s devotion to her companion didn’t translate fully and came through as only the bear could make sense of it.

Hunger. 

And not the belly-filling kind.

On his back, Tav shifted and Halsin was made keenly aware she was sitting astride him.

Oak Father preserve me…

Halsin sniffed the air and did his damndest to filter Tav out. The bear noted, rather nonchalantly, that her scent told him she was young, healthy, and very fertile. 

Halsin snorted, hoping the action would expel that particular smell from his nose.

“Everything okay? I must smell terrible covered in all this mud, huh?”

“It’s not great,” he lied, realizing belatedly he just told a beautiful woman that she stank if only to avoid admitting to said beautiful woman that he could smell her ovulating and that it was driving him to distraction.

Halsin, if you don’t locate this dog right now!

“Sorry,” Tav muttered sheepishly. “I feel foolish even asking for your help. You’re an archdruid, it’s kinda beneath you to go looking for lost dogs.”

“It is precisely because I am an archdruid that I am duty-bound to assist. Finding lost dogs, especially ones so loved, are well within my charge.”

“Thank you,” Absent-mindedly, Tav reached forward and scratched behind his ears like did for Scratch and Kanid before him. The pleasurable sensation nearly dropped Halsin to his knees.

“Please, do not do that again!” He growled.

Tav snatched away. “I’m sorry!”

Tav wiggled, trying to get down from his back, rubbing her crotch against him, stirring up more of her pheromones as she blubbered apologies. “I’m so sorry! I totally forgot someone was in there!”

“Don’t move, do not…stop…Tav please…”

Suddenly, the bear scented blood replacing the hunger that made his loins ache with a new emotion.

Rage.

__

A/N: Now that I've better fleshed out a thornier section later in the fic, I have a feeling more snippets from earlier parts of the story will come at a decent clip. Will I ever be done with this story? Perhaps. Good lord willing and the creek don't rise, I hope to have it posting worthy before the end of the year. More Blood and Honey snippets:

Chapter 1 The Old Bear's Still Got It Confession? Go See A Priest Halsin x Tav x Astarion Headcanons: Part 1 Part 2 Tav x Halsin standalone drabbles: Gray Hair Movement

Hmm...Guess I need to balance it out with some Tav x Astarion drabbles. Keep on the lookout.

#tav x halsin #daddy halsin #bear halsin #i am a menace #take this laptop from me before i commit more crimes #cooking with fucking GAS i'm telling you

[queenofsarcazm]

Smaug’s Daughter

Thranduil X OC/READER

Spicy, fix-it, dragon-shifter fanfic!

A daydream turns into reality for reader who finds herself mated to Thranduil in Middle Earth. Fic follows reader through the events that transpire in the Hobbit while she struggles to manage a relationship to a stubborn king while trying to save those who shouldn't have died in the hobbit! Plenty of NSFW and happy endings always!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36555799/chapters/91167853

Chapter 1:

I was trying to fall asleep and I’d tried all of the tricks without success. I’d opened the window so the room was cold even though I’d probably wake up with a cold. I’d tried breathing exercises: Breathing in for 5 seconds, then holding it for 5 and then breathing out for 5. I’d even counted backwards from 200 in spanish. And I was no closer to falling asleep than my dog, who was sleeping in my bed with me of course, was close to sitting up and talking to me. 

Aaaa. I really ought to fall asleep soon so I would be able to get up early tomorrow and get started on my essay. It was due at midnight.

Well, there was that last thing I could do, although I shouldn’t… Considering I had recently been diagnosed with not only ADHD, but also maladaptive daydreaming disorder, my therapist had advised me to ease down on the daydreaming before sleep. But my phone revealed the time was nearing 2AM and I was getting desperate. Besides, my therapist had said to ease down, not immediately stop? Right? Right.

Okay: Snuggling into my multiple duvets I closed my eyes again to plan the daydream that I could fall asleep to. Since I had watched the first and second Hobbit movies before going to bed, that was where my mind went. More specifically, towards Thranduil. I had been obsessed with him for years now. I’d probably scrounged through all the fanfictions on AO3 involving him. But no fic ever managed to scratch that specific itch of what I needed from him. Not that the fics were poorly written, not at all - most authors on AO3 wrote better than published books I’d read, but what I wanted always felt like the missing piece in a puzzle, many other pieces were good, great even and I tried them all but I could never quite find the one who fit. And you know what they say: If you can’t find it, write it. Well, I couldn’t pull up my computer now, then I’d never fall asleep. Second best to writing was just imagining it in your head.

So to that, I couldn’t just barge into the Woodland Realm, couldn’t just go knocking on the door expecting to bang Thranduil without further ado. No, that wouldn’t be realistic. I had to have a reason. I had to create a persona. A backstory for myself in Middle-Earth. I had to be someone that he would fuck.

So who would I be? Elf had always been the obvious choice, but for this particular daydream I found it too mundane. I wanted to be something else. Someone more interesting.

I had recently gotten into reading a particularly smutty series about dragons-shifting-men. Dragons who had one true mate. Hmmm. Of course, Thranduil couldn’t be the dragon. I had to be the dragon. Me being a dragon would make for extremely intriguing drama considering Thranduil hated them so.

But I couldn’t just be any dragon, it had to make sense for the story. My mind immediately jumped to Smaug, but he wouldn’t exactly make the best fatherly figure. Hmm. Maybe he went mad when my mother died dramatically because they were mates? Speaking of which: maybe my mother was elven? Yes. I could be half dragon and half elven. Perfect. I could be raised by Beorn since he also was a skin-changer and that is also where I would meet Thorin & company. The fact that I was Smaug’s daughter would be problematic, but I’d get to that later. Obviously I’d go with Thorin & company into the forest. We would be taken by the elves and then I would get to meet Thranduil who would be my mate and so the moment he laid eyes on me he would be affected because I would go into heat. My pheromones would drive him crazy until he had to have me. And considering I was half dragon he would probably hate-fuck me into oblivion because he hates dragons. Yes. It was all coming together now… Through my intensive daydreaming planning I found myself increasingly more sleepy and horny by the second.

ZZZzzzZZZZZzz….zzzZZZZZzzz

I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep until I woke myself up the next morning by a loud snore - one that probably came from me - I huffed at no one in particular and snuggled deeper into my bed. Somehow, it didn’t feel as soft as the day before, but I was too drowsy to notice much.

There was a big bang, ripping me out of my slumber, making me fall out of my bed in shock. My butt hit the stone cold floor. Someone was trying to break in! Jumping to my feet I tried to make sense of my surroundings. I did not recognize anything. This was not my bedroom. Where the hell was I? The banging on the door continued. It sounded as if no small army was trying to break into the house I was currently in. My heart beat frantically as I tried to prepare for… I don’t even know what. Looking around the house gave little clue to where the fuck I was at. The house looked as if built for a giant. A giant in the 1500s or something: There was no electric light anywhere, no fridge, no radio, no nothing that came from the 21st century that I lived in. There were two cows with horns and a horse just chilling in the living room, but they didn’t seem to care much about the intruders. Was I in a barn? But then why was there a bed here and why had I been sleeping in it? I only managed to grab a broom before a set of tall doors opened, letting in a myriad of short people with long hair. They were all screaming and yelling as if the devil himself was chasing them.

I quickly understood why they were acting in such a way when a giant bear-wolf-like creature stuck its head through the doors and roared. I retreated until my back hit the wall, clutching the broom as if my life depended on it. There should be laws against this happening to someone who’d just woken up. It wasn’t until they managed to close the doors that I realized the short people were accompanied by a tall one. One that I would recognize anywhere. It was Gandalf. What the fuck?

They all drew a breath of relief when the doors were sufficiently closed and I hid demonstratively behind a bookshelf.

“What was that?” One of the little people yelled out. Dwarves I realized, not just any little people. And not just any Dwarves. Thorin Oakenshield’s dwarves. I was in the plot of the Hobbit.  I was dreaming. I must be. Lucid dreaming! How exciting!

“That is our host-” Gandalf declared. His gruffy voice was just like in the movies. The dwarves looked stunned. Beorn, I remembered. So if this dream was going according to how I’d planned, then I was his adoptive daughter. I was half dragon, half elf. I lifted my hand to my ear. Pointy. Nice. Shit, I hoped my alarm wouldn’t ring until I’d get to meet Thranduil. “His name is Beorn.” Gandalf continued before pausing dramatically. “He is a skin-changer.” Skin-changer. Just like me. I wondered how I would change into a dragon. I looked down at my hands. They looked the same. My nails were a bit dirtier than I would like and I had some cuts and bruises, but both my hands had the right amount of fingers. I was wearing practical clothes, reminiscent of what Aragorn wore and my hair was flowing down my shoulders, big red and messy. Wait, red? I wasn’t exactly a redhead back in real life, and I couldn’t remember scripting it either… Alas, I had bigger worries.

“Sometimes, he is a huge black bear. Sometimes, he is a great, strong man.” Gandalf explained as he walked further into the house. When should I make my presence known? Some of the dwarves walked into the kitchen area, but Gandalf was approaching my hiding spot past the cows. “The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. However, he is not overly fond of dwarves.”

Outside the house, Beorn growled menacingly. “He’s leaving.” One of the dwarves with orange hair and beard said. Ori, if I were to guess. “Come away from there.” A dwarf with nicely braided gray hair hissed, pulling Ori away from the door. Probably Dori, one of his brothers. “It’s not natural. None of it! It’s obvious. He’s under some dark spell!’” He added. I swallowed. How the hell would I convince Thorin & Company to bring me along if they thought skin-changing was messed up? Not to mention that I didn’t know anything about fighting. I didn’t even know how to change.

“Don’t be a fool.” Gandalf scoffed. “He’s under no enchantment but his own.” I took a deep breath. Okay, maybe I could talk sense with Gandalf. The tall wizard took off his pointy hat. “All right, now, get some sleep, all of you. You’ll be safe here tonight.” He said, then he sighed. “I hope.” Only I could hear the last part. But they still hadn’t found me.

Knowing Beorn was staying guard out there so that the Orcs wouldn’t kill the dwarves in the middle of the night was at least a little comforting. I had no wish to meet Azog and his fugly offspring whose name I couldn’t remember.

The dwarves did what they do best. Eat and sleep. I stayed put, still debating how to handle the situation. Many hours of snoring passed, the sun was about to come up, and still I couldn’t make my mind up. But I should act soon, lest my phone wake me from my favorite universe. I’d already wasted enough time. As I took a careful step from behind the shelf I caught a glimpse of Bilbo who sat up and casually pulled out a ring, the ring. He beheld it as if it wasn’t the one fucking ring. I nearly gasped, but put a hand over my mouth just in time. I could hear it calling for me. Could feel the pull of it. Shit, that meant it would be able to brainwash me, right? Gods, I wanted no part in that. I turned so that I could sneak out through the window in order to put distance between the ring and myself. On the way there I promptly stumbled over one of the dwarves who lay sleeping. Bilbo hurriedly put the ring away as I tried to stay on my feet by grabbing anything and everything within reach. This of course only created a ruckus as I and all the things I’d tried to grab crashed to the floor onto the dwarf who was sleeping there. I’d only made contact with the dwarf’s body before he awoke with a start and turned us around quickly as lightning, putting an ax to my throat as if he’d been sleeping with it under his pillow. All the dwarves were waking up now, shouting and yelling, ready for a fight.

I couldn’t blame them. It would be impressive to not wake up due to all the commotion I’d stupidly created. I laid there, breathless as I stared into the shiny gray eyes of the one and only Thorin Oakenshield, while he had the ax to my throat, basically straddling me. And at the same time that I was silently freaking out about him, He was looking at me as if he’d seen a unicorn.

“An intruder!” A dwarf exclaimed before another shouted: “Who is it?” I couldn’t take my eyes away from Thorin, couldn’t even blink. He, in turn, didn’t take his eyes off of me either. Was it wrong of me to find the situation slightly arousing? The look Thorin was sending me was making heat pool in my lower stomach and I quite liked the whole ax to my throat thing. It was hot. I probably couldn’t throw him off if I wanted to, but I didn’t want to. Though I was taller, he was heavier. But not uncomfortably heavy. Just the right amount of heavy.

“An elf.” Thorin said. His baritone voice reverberated delightfully through my body. There was outrage among the dwarves, but they didn’t sound as if they wanted to kill me. Maybe they just thought I was a spy of some sort? The doors opened once again then and the tallest man I had ever seen walked in, breathing heavily. Beorn presumably. In real life he was played by an incredibly hot actor. But in Middle Earth he looked more like a caveman. The dwarves scattered, understandably.

“Get off my daughter.” Beorn said. His voice was calm, but his whole aura gave off a no-nonsense type of vibe. There were several gasps among the dwarves. Thorin looked puzzled, but moved the ax away from my neck and got to his feet. He stretched out a hand towards me and I took it. He basically pulled my whole body off of the ground as if I weighed nothing. When I came to stand it was as if his body shrinked. No, it was just me who was taller. In real life I stood about 5’6 feet off the ground, but I had to be taller in this dream as his head was about the same height as my boobs. Realizing I was still holding onto his hand, I felt my cheeks grow warm and quickly let go. “Sorry.”

“It is I who should apologize.” Thorin said. He wasn’t as out of it as I, but he was definitely affected by me in some way.

“That’s alright.” I gave him a small smile before I turned to Beorn. “Breakfast? I bet everyone is super hungry and has lots to tell us.” I hoped it didn’t sound as conspicuous to their ears as it did to mine. I knew exactly what the dwarves were here for after all. Had seen it a million times.

“Very well.” Beorn replied. Confidently, as if I knew exactly where everything was in this house, I walked over to the dining area and started making the table as if this was all natural and I had lived here for 24 years. Beorn went to milk the cows and the dwarves started helping me plate, while the others packed up their stuff. When all the food was on the table and Beorn was done milking, everyone sat down. I found myself seated between Fili and Kili who looked at me when they thought I wasn’t looking. It was endearing. They were also extremely handsome up close. My fingers itched to touch their hair for some reason. Obviously I knew that would be considered strange and rude and held my hands to myself.

“So you are the one they call Oakenshield.” Beorn started, pouring milk from a giant container, that was probably half the size of Thorin, into huge wooden cups. I had found a couple cups, plates and cutlery that were smaller - indicating that someone smaller lived here: Me. “Tell me,” Beorn's eyes found me before he turned back to Thorin who was sitting with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Why is Azog the Definer hunting you?”

“You know of Azog?” Thorin was visibly shook, as I would say. Everyone was eating quietly, watching the conversation between my adoptive father and their king. But many looks were thrown my way, as if they could not avoid looking at me. I really ought to find a mirror to assess what I looked like. I hoped I wasn’t as hairy as Beorn. That would be difficult for Thranduil to swallow, I imagined.

“My people were the first to live in the mountains, before the Orcs came down from the North. The Defiler killed most of my family.” Again, most of the dwarves looked at me. I lifted my cup of milk, though I did not much like milk, just to have something to do with my hands. “But some he enslaved.” Beorn added. Poor Beorn. I, and everyone else, noticed the cuff still on his hands. Gods, had we never attempted to take it off? What an awful reminder it must be. “Not for work, you understand, but for sport.” The mouthful of milk I’d just drunk tasted sour in my mouth at what he said. What an awful motherfucker Azog was. I couldn’t wait for him to die. “Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him.” I visibly vinced. Was that how he and I had met? I hoped not.

“There are others like you?” Someone asked.

“Once there were many.” Beorn said. I could sense how sad that sentence made him.

“And now?” It was Bilbo who asked.

Beorn looked at me. I swallowed and managed the tiniest shake of my head. I didn’t want him to just blurt it out like this. There had to be a better way to explain it. I would never get to Mirkwood if they knew I was a dragon. And not just any dragon. The daughter of Smaug. That would not bode well.

Thankfully, Beorn was a good actor. “Now there is only one.” He replied sadly. I hoped no one had seen our little interaction. If they had, they didn’t mention it.

“You need to reach the mountain before the last day of autumn.” Beorn went on.

“Before Durin’s Day falls, yes.” Gandalf agreed. I couldn’t remember him saying that, but I knew what it meant. “You are running out of time.” I said, my voice steady.

“Which is why we must go through Mirkwood.” Gandalf said.

“A darkness lies upon that forest. Foul things creep beneath those trees.” Beorn replied. Shit, did that mean he would not let me go? “There is an alliance between the Orcs of Moria and the Necromancer in Dol Guldur. I would not venture there except in great need.” My adoptive father added. I held my tongue. How would I convince them to let me join them? Any of them?

The dwarves bore crestfallen expressions on their bearded faces. “We will take the elven road. That path is still safe.” Gandalf seemed the only one with hope intact.

“Safe?” Beorn scoffed. “The Wood Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They’re less wise. And more dangerous.” He gave me a pointed look. I hadn’t fully planned out what kind of elf my mother was. But I’m guessing she was not from Mirkwood then. Or maybe she was? I ought to have a good long conversation with Beorn before leaving so I could get my story straight.

“But it matters not...” Beorn continued, moving his scrutinizing gaze from me to Thorin who’d gotten up from his seat. “These lands are crawling with Orcs. Their numbers are growing and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive.” Beorn got up from his seat. He hadn’t blinked in ages. I wondered what I was supposed to call him. Not by his first name surely? Surely I called him dad? If this was my dream that I controlled I would call him dad. He’d raised me. It was what he was.

“I don’t like Dwarves.” Beorn said, getting up from his seat. Rising to his probably like 9 feet. I gasped. Not at his height but at what he was saying. “They’re greedy. And blind. Blind to the lives of those that they deem lesser than their own.” That was. That was really rude!

“Dad. You can’t just-” I interjected. Beorn was nearing Thorin, but stopped to pick up a mouse from the table as if to underline his point. He sighed and turned to me. “But Orcs I hate more.”

“What do you need?” He asked Thorin then and I visibly relaxed even though I knew he would help them.

While the dwarves started cleaning up after the meal I followed Beorn, my dad, out to ready the horses.

“You wish to join them.” He stated when we had made it to the stables, out of hearing reach. Could he read my mind? I opened my mouth to protest, but he was right. I did want to join them. I closed my mouth and nodded instead.

“What do you think they will say if they find out you are not only a Dragon, but Smaug’s daughter?” He asked. His voice was calm, but I could see the tension in his hands as he was sadling the ponies.

“I am your daughter.” I said.

A brief smile danced upon his lips. “That you are.” He put the saddle on another pony before he turned towards me again, lifting a hand to gently caress my cheek. “Arien, my beautiful daughter. Have you thought this through?” He asked. My heart skipped a beat. In real life I wasn’t particularly close with either of my parents, and the way Beorn was looking at me was making me want to cry and be held by him. If I did that, however, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever stop crying. I realized he’d called me Arien. In my planning, I hadn’t gotten as far as to pick a name, but Arien was a nice name. I hadn’t heard of it before, but it sounded elven. I generally had a pretty awful memory though, so she could be an important figure. How I was remembering the plot of the Hobbit so vividly detailed was baffling.

I swallowed and then cleared my voice so that it would not falter. “I wish to help.” I said, realizing just how true that was. It was more than just wanting to fuck Thranduil already. How could it not be? In this dream I might have the chance to prevent some deaths, hopefully many. I could do some good. For some reason I also had a feeling that if I showed up in my Dragon form, then Smaug would leave. I did not think he would harm his daughter. If I was able to stay asleep for that long. But time surely had to pass differently here than in real life. I’d had many dreams that had lasted for what seemed like long periods of time, but none of those had been like this; lucid.

Beorn nodded. He looked so forlorn that I couldn’t help but give him a hug. He was much taller than me, so when I put my arms around him he lifted me many feet up off the ground and hugged me tightly back. “I’ll be fine, dad. I’m a dragon! They couldn’t hurt me if they wanted to.” I told him assuringly as he put me back down.

“They might want to hurt you when they find out.”

#thranduil fanfiction #Thranduil #thranduil x oc #thranduil x reader #LOTR #lotr fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #The hobbit #modern girl in middle earth #hobbit fanfic #ao3

[keplercryptids]

I've decided that in my next ttrpg campaign, elves are going to be like trees, because trees are a long-lived organism evolved to rely on a strong community and it just makes sense. I'm still figuring out the details of what this means for elven culture but some ideas i'm floating around:

elves need sleep!!! it's so silly that they wouldn't need sleep with such long lives! they gotta Chill. often.

on that note, elves hibernate. probably not all at once or their societies might collapse lmao, but elves have seasons of sleep/deep rest that they need to take or they'll die.

elves can communicate with each other via electrical signals, pheromones, mycelium, other means. maybe mechanically this means all elves can magically message each other. (my whole magic system is gonna be based on mycelium so this tracks.)

the whole community decides when it's time to reproduce, based on a number of factors (health of the community, climate, resource readiness, etc). also young elves are pruned and kept in check by older elves until it's time for them to grow up. i don't know what this means yet but i know it's Correct.

once an elder dies, that's when a bunch of younger elves compete and grow a LOT and mature very quickly to fill the ranks.

something about wound healing. i think it's slow. i think elves can survive a LOT of injury and illness because it all affects them more slowly.

something something elven society in general being like a forest something

i think a lot of this will end up being simple worldbuilding / set dressing because i honestly don't know how to make it apply to a player character (particularly the stuff like slow wound healing and hybernation). so i'm thinking that maybe PCs can be half-elf at most. anyway. elf cities are just forests so jot that down.

#jd&d #known shores campaign

[bruinescence]

@vampiheir cont.

Halsin's bold claim is enough to make his silver brows shoot skyward. "My my, aren't you full of surprises," he muses, shifting to rest his chin on his hand. Scarlet gaze flickering from Halsin's face, to the two men and back again, he replies, "how can you tell? Are your druid senses tingling or something?" He pauses to emit a thoughtful hum before adding, "maybe they're going to do both? Some people like it rough."

Although Halsin wouldn't agree that he was full of surprises- merely astute observations, his company's claims are enough to earn a chuckle out of him while he gripped the thimble top of a highly concentrated tea shot between three of his large fingers. There was a lot left to peruse in the pile of tomes he'd borrowed from Gale, and the concentrated caffeine was going to help him stay focused without the need for a meditation break later. What did they call this splash of energy again? Something claimed to be extracted from the energy of a bull elk with a herd of over a hundred to breed with in one night, more than likely.

"Really- I would have thought you of all people would pick up on the scent of..." Amusement flickered in his eyes like beams of sunlight just below the surface of a clear creek as he briefly met Astarion's gaze before his too wandered back towards the quarreling strangers. "...blood swelling." Though his nose was not so sensitive, he could detect a good sweat starting up and the subtle hint of pheromones' that- as Astarion put it...could very well indicate either preparation. Though perhaps the other elf had missed the way one of them grabbed a belt over balling their fist up in the front of a shirt-

"Humh, perhaps. And out of those people, if you're so inclined to share...are you?"

#//he's out here bein' a lil shit today sorry B') #//being extra wise means you can be an extra wise ass #vampiheir #nsft themed

[fountainpenguin]

New Origin of the Pixies chapter today!

Chapter 40 - “Inner Workings”

Read on FFN || Read on AO3

H.P. and associates visit the (very disorganized) Fire Temple catacombs and the Breath Temple's healing pools as they prepare to reverse engineer immortality. Sanderson faces another reminder of his mortal existence, Binky grows increasingly possessive of Jorgen, and H.P. and Anti-Bryndin start building a machine.

(First 1000 words under the cut)

Inner Workings

Summer of the Running Yale - Spring of the Crisp Whirlwind

A few days after the Seven Festivals wrapped up in Anti-Fairy World, High Count Anti-Bryndin came to see me. He brought Anti-Florensa with him, partly because she had family in Shadeblink and partly because she was his personal bodyguard and he was allowed to do that. Also, apparently she visits the Fire Temple every Saturday and has been doing this for a hundred thousand years or something, so I wasn't going to be the one to tell her "Nope."

We'd made arrangements with all the right people to ensure the travel validity checked out, but it didn't stop the Keepers from sending Adelinda's son, Jorgen von Strangle, right on his heels. Jorgen even had an escort of his own, but… I'll get back to that thought in a minute.

My visitors met me and Sanderson at the tram station on my border. Anti-Bryndin had tied his signature black scarf around his neck as usual, the beryl button gleaming, though he'd bundled it up in a way that covered his mouth and part of his nose. Between the scarf and his dark blue coat, he looked quite cozy despite the nippy teeth of Fairy World's slithering springtime wind. Actually, with his horns sticking out, he looked like he could pass as one of Santa's rain deer. I think he did that once, one year. He strung lights between the points.

Jorgen had bulked up in recent millennia, which finally granted him the appearance of someone who deserved to hold the massive star-tipped staff he'd been toting around for as long as I'd known him in the news. His pureblood heritage was undeniable in his staggering height. Still, youthful acne peppered his face like stars. His fluorescent orange escort vest didn't do him any favors. Ah, upper school days… That time of life makes twits of us all. I regarded him coolly, my hands folded behind my back. Technically, it's rude to tell a von Strangle they've "come into their adult wings." They slice theirs off while still young to signal utter devotion to the Fairy Elder.

"It's bold of you to come here right as your pheromones are showing potential," I'd have liked to tell him then. But I didn't. And that's because of the next member in our traveling party.

Bancroft "Binky" Abdul (Jr.) was a half-elf that I'd always known secondhand. I attended upper school with his father, and Abdul Sr. used to visit the Nightbloom family when I butlered for them Earthside. Their daughter became his wife only a dozen years after I began working there. It's actually because of that marriage that Cattahan moved out and I handed in my resignation to follow him to softer clouds. Or "greener pastures," as we said on Earth.

(Well. There was his sister's marriage, and Cattahan's parents cut him off after the whole, you know, "No counterpart consent, no forced honey-lock" protest thing, but the media has covered that spicy topic extensively and I digress.)

His sister did introduce us to each of the two Abdul sons after they were born, so the one who turned out to be a gyne had been on my radar for quite some time. I literally held him in my hands before his freckles even showed. So, suffice to say that I'd come to know Abdul Sr. quite well… from a distance, and usually several rooms apart. Cattahan always said he admired both my sassy remarks in private and my restraint in the presence of company, but he knew better than to let Abdul and I linger too long in the same room. Since he lived Earthside, I kept a closer tab on that drake than I did on gynes like Waterberry, Reddinski, and Cracklewings, but I'm far more acquainted with the father than the sons.

Jorgen and Abdul Jr. made for a peculiar pair. They lived two streets apart, yet I swear half of Fairy World knew what was going on between them. And the half that didn't was probably just being polite. From what I'd heard, the two fairies met in their younger years when both signed up for the border escort program for completely different reasons: Jorgen because he bored easily and would throw himself at any opportunity for structured work and tight deadlines, and Abdul because he genuinely liked getting to know Anti-Fairy travelers and visiting their temples alongside them. Jorgen had a sister, too. They get along well now, but in their younger years, he was scrawny and she was a wildcat. He needed a reason to get away.

And, well… Abdul Jr. never had been good with managing money. I'd seen evidence of that myself. Sometimes when I went into Faeheim, I saw him disappear down little streets, selling gemstones and bracelets in pawn shops and borrowing more than he could afford. He'd even tried to scrape a little cash off me in his younger years when I only had a few pixies to my name.

I suppose I can't blame him if he saw the need to compensate for "something." As gynes go, he'd always been a small one (though he did boast a heavy dusting of freckles on his cheeks and arms). I never did confirm why, though I assume being born and raised on Earth and its thin energy field instead of in the cloudlands will do that to a kid. Jorgen was actually the younger of the duo, though if you knew nothing about them beyond their looks, you probably wouldn't guess it. He still dwarfs Abdul completely to this day… which made their arrangement all the more eye-catching to those people - yours truly included - who were in the know.

Jorgen von Strangle is a drone. This is well-documented public knowledge in Fairy World today, so I'm not breaking Canterbury v. Oakwing in stating it, though I will point out he hadn't come out about it at the time. With his father barking orders to the Fairy militia every hour of the day and his mother constantly at the Fairy Elder's side, Jorgen was regularly cooped at home alone and unattended, and it was only after puberty that he realized what he was at all.

[Cnt'd - FFN and AO3 links above]

#Fairly OddParents #FOP #fanfic #ridwriting #Origin of the Pixies #Sanderson is neat #Binky my beloved #The toughest tag #I'm wasp dad trash #Flour king #FAIRIES! #apparently art #Bat cube and associates #We're Pixies! #fic announcement

[stupidsharkthing]

Species Profile//: Lhet'gii

(Elf equivalent)

(Note that appearances are not set in stone. I'm not telling you how to bake your cake. If you want your elf to have seventeen mouths, or 6 hands, be my guest. All characters are individuals, not just a combination of labels and groups.)

(Pictured here are all female elves.)

Elf Equivalent//:

Tall, long-limbed humanoid insectoids who tread on hooves. They bear horns, and several curved bone-spurs all across their body, positions and size varying from individiuals. They have an above-average minds-eye, and have heightened senses when compared to other species.

Physical Prowess//:

Vitality: 18 Hit points; 9 Wounds.

Endurance: 7 AP, with a +3 upkeep.

Mental Fortitude: 10, with an upkeep of 2.

Agility: 18(23) Paces

Native Characteristic: Gain one AP when inflicting agony onto an opponent. Maximum two per turn.

Society Structure and Psychology:

Species have an innate "empath" trait that allows them to be more aware of their surroundings, especially another's pain. They can also sway other's feelings, if only slightly by using minor pheromones. Most elves, as individuals, are very polarizing. They're commonly seen as enigmatic savants, thanks to many famous elven songstresses, scholars and sorcerers. When meeting one, they're seen as almost ghastly in appearance, and/or uncanny. Most see their movements as offputting, but can't quite put their tongue to mind when describing it, their limbs bend too far, they walk too gracefully, they are... offputting, to put it lightly.

General Appearance//:

One of the taller members of the common sapients, they stand on average at around 7-8 feet tall. (210-250cm). They have many insectoid-esque features, like small ridges on the outerfacing parts of their forearms, split jaws, and long, heavy antennae falling from above their teeth, flowing like a dragon's whiskers. In place of their eyes, they will have hundreds of smaller holes all over the crest of their face, serving as primitive eyes, similar in appearance to the spiders we have. They lack both soft skin and lips, with their epedermis being closer to a brittle exoskeleton. Little to no sexual dimorphism, other than females having smaller horns.

Variants//:

Subterrenean: Stone to obsidian in coloration, with no reflective properties whatsoever. They have longer horns, and sharper claws.

Common: Pale, parchement colored insectoids. Longer fangs, and more keen with their empath trait.

Personal interjection//:

I honestly used to hate elves when I first started reading. They were arrogant, snotty, and too pretty. After changing their characteristics, these things are honestly one of my favorite species now! Well, mainly because I just neutered the things that made them agitating, and turned them into irredeemable monsters...

#game project #the lore for the game

[unknownmusing]

The Witcher Fanstory - Ioroche Fic: 'Will Always be there to Save One no Matter What Happens' - (Part 1 of ?)

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

Notes:

A 'what if' fic where Vernon is captured before getting back to the Kaer Morhen Keep by Imlerith and taken back to Tir ná Lia (Aen Elle homeworld)

Vernon is a half-elf from the Royal Bloodline of Half-Elves

Iorveth/Roche relationship

CW: Slight dark themes in this with some mild references to gore and violence (Eredin forces Geralt to drink Unicorn blood), recovering from injuries ascertained and unwanted advances

For @chamotea, @apastandfuturenerd, @altebar and other Ioroche shippers out there

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

PART 1 - 'Captured and in the Enemy's Grasp'

The clashing of steel against steel, the constant stream of the soldiers of the Wild Hunt attacking the keep of Kaer Morhen seems relentless as Vernon, scrambles his way through half-destroyed walls, broken crates and tears in the earth due to just the sheer power of the King of the Wild Hunt's powers, nearly reaching the gate of the fort when out of nowhere something slams into the side of him.

He goes flying hitting going through a gap in a stone-wall to hit another one where his head harshly smacks against it that slides down into crumpled heap to one side, heavily dazed by the impact with every sound around him muffling to a faint din.

Trying to lift himself, his elbows shake in the effort, Vernon collapses back down with vision fading in and out focus fast that the last sight he sees is off a large armoured elf bearing a mace approaching before sinks into unconcious state. Remembering nothing thereafter.

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

It's a strange sense he's not in Kaer Morhen that makes Vernon flutter his eyes open weakly groaning in agony at the pain radiating still from the head-wound he ascertained - fragments of what happened come in, but quickly dissolve away like sand through one's fingertips before he can grasp and fully make sense of them.

He remembers running to the gate of the fort, but afterwards it was all a blurred jumble mess which he cannot make sense of then a large booming noise startles him into awareness with his vision fully clearing to reveal he's in large bedchamber placed on large bed with soft see-through drapes hanging down from the cieling over the bed. More booming, followed by orders being shouted in Elvish that his all body shudders immediatly - just the tone of it was overwhelming - that he finds himself letting out deep mewling noise - something he cannot stop from happening - rubbing himself into the sheets of the bed where a scent of....an Alpha.....Elf.....begins to make him move them with the pillows to create a Nest.

His rational human side is screaming at him to stop and realising what is doing goes to stop himself when a presance behind him makes him turn to look over his shoulder straight at one of the Wild Hunt, but their name he doesn't know just that the pheromones coming off them are so much he sways slightly because of them. "Little Omega..." they purr out to him, indicating with their gauntled hand for him to approach and gulping down saliva which has built up Vernon pads over to edge of the Nest he created using the large bed's sheets and pillows plus fur blankets to outline it.  Vernon keeps his head lowered down not wanting to look up at the large elf - Imlerith - he had found out when the memory of being knocked out by large mace had come flooding back, who stands near the edge of the bed sipping some wine, before places the goblet down on small circular table. "I see your confused." Imlerith says to Vernon, who flinches when gauntled hand reaches out for him - he can see it has specks of crimson flowers are still on it - that scrambles out of the makeshift Nest, grabbing a dagger placed on the table to hold it in front of him indicating to the large elf not come towards him.

"What do you want with me?!!!" He stammers out - his voice breaking with fear and horror, because he heard from Geralt the worst of the Wild Hunt was Eredin's Second-in-Command Imlerith, Slayer of Tulic - a Great Unicorn and the oldest of the Unicorn Clan who fought in vain to save his people only to be slain during the Battle of Frost and Horn as it was called in tales referring to how the unicorns gored the ranks of Eredin's Army and Eredin's Army used Frost against them. The large elf says nothing, just in few steps comes over to him to grab hold of his hand holding the dagger by the wrist tightening the gauntled hand around to make Vernon drop it then indicates to his other gauntled hand, forcing Vernon to look fearfully at it - Was he being asked to do what he think the large elf was asking him? - then shuddering leans forward to begin cleaning the gauntled hand of the crimson splatters and god knows what else.

"It's his blood you know. Manage to get me good for being a Leader of the Scoia'tael, but let's just say....he underestimated me. He will not be coming back, Vernon, my sweet little Omega." Imlerith smirks down at him, taking hold of Vernon's chin when he pulls back with widened eyes - the large elf had to be lying to him about Iorveth, there was no way he would go down like that.

"You're lying to me!!!? Iorveth would never.....!!!?" Vernon begins to argue back, only to cut himself off, trembling so much that he nearly revealed to the enemy how close he was to Iorveth beginning to mutter. "Iorveth.....would....he...."

A growl comes from Imlerith, indicating for him to stop muttering under his breath, where he knows the large elf will want out of his armour so moving his hands - his other which been holding the dagger which now lays on the floor - to start slipping the armour off the large elf, even though his hands are shaking and fumble slightly in the process.

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

The corridors of King Eredin's palace are wide and vast, marble polished floors, tall spiralling pillars and gardens placed in different layered tiers where right in the centre is a large lake connecting to endless waterfall tumbling over the edge to the valley down below where large expanses of forest spread in all directions, mountainscapes towered above and yet, there is the strange stillness in the air that indicated the whole area had been once a happy place. Geralt, sitting kneeling on both knees beside Eredin - who is busy sitting at a table perusing some documents and occasionally taking sips of some deep rich wine or actually Unicorn blood - something so barbaric that he hated seeing the elf slaughtering remaining herds of Unicorns in the valley below for that sake. Vernon, he had overheard the other human Slaves had been taken as slave by Imlerith due to a certain reason that only Caranthir knew - and knowing that elf, it was no doubt due to Vernon's half-elf status and bloodline - when he been brought bound and gagged into the throne-room after having been captured. He had decided while Iorveth was in coma to try and rescue Vernon. Maybe been brash and too hot-headed rushing in on his own - but Vernon was his friend. So he could not abandon him to a fate of being slave for the rest of his life.

"You seem lost in thought, my White Wolf." Eredin saying, makes Geralt come back to the present moment at hand seeing the dark elf is looking down at him - those piercing, harsh cold eyes staring his - that he knows he must say something or will face intense punishment for not saying anything.

"A fleeting memory." Geralt tells Eredin, who he knows is not convinced by this. A hand comes up to turn his chin, followed the glass goblet filled with the unicorn blood to be placed against his lips, he knows he must drink it all - this was for the sake of not being harshly punished.

Opening his mouth, he allows the substance to be poured into it, with him gulping it down struggling when too much is poured it trickles down the sides of his lips until finally only few dregs remain in the glass which is taken away from his stained lips, while he wills himself not to sick it back up.

He must endure it.

"Good, White Wolf. No sicking it up, like before, remember." Eredin states, wiping a thumb over his lips to smear the unicorn blood over them smirking at how Geralt looks.

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

"Come." Imlerith commands Vernon, checking the leather collar attached to a chain around his throat making him get up from his kneeling position on the floor to be lead out the large bed-chamber, passing by other servants who stop and bow their heads low - their frightened gazes telling him that the dark elf sent wave of terror through them that no-one dare disobey him.

Vernon, sticking close to his 'Master' or 'Alpha' shudders at the coldness radiating in the hallway of the palace and also the fact that he's wearing nothing but chemise-lace Slave clothing which did nothing to keep him warm or cover him that all he can do is bear being looked at by the dark elves' Lord and Ladies, who are either standing talking amongst themselves or heading to their own sleeping qaurters or other parts of the palace.

Reaching the gardens, he notices under a large stone-carved temple-like structure sits a figure in ornate throne near a circular table with another person kneeling beside them on a pillow - the silvery-white hair shaved slightly at the temples and short ponytail, minus his beard - that Vernon, lets out a gasp of his name when Imlerith, brings him up to the two people recognising Geralt, who looks equally shocked at his appearance.

"Oh, what's this. Does your Little Lily, now, my White Wolf, Imlerith?" the other dark elf purrs out, sending shivers up and down Vernon's body he immediatly grips the nearest thing closest to him - Imlerith's arm - trying to hide himself from the gaze, which feels like could render his soul in half. 

This elf was dangerous, highly dangerous that he worries if Iorveth - if he is still alive - were to fight them he might not survive at all. 

Imlerith gives out chuckle, moving to sit down across from the other dark elf indicating Vernon to kneel on the pillow beside it which at first because still frightened steps backwards shaking his head from side to side which makes a large hand grab his chin forcing him to look into Imlerith's amber eyes knowing he must obey that gulping down saliva moves to the pillow to kneel down in same position Geralt is in.

"Good, little Omega." Imlerith purrs out, settling in the other throne-like ornate chair to begin talking to the other dark elf, who he overhears is called Eredin, King of the Wild Hunt and can feel is paying particularly interest in him everytime Imlerith, discusses the results Caranthir Ar-Feiniel had made of him especially the fact Vernon Roche is a Half-elf Omega from a Royal Bloodline of Royal Half-Elves.

Vernon, flicks his gaze over to Geralt, who moves to crawl over to him on his hands and knees where remembers a servant Slave had told him that Slaves could greet each-other in the presance of their Masters.

But anything further like discussing escape or even trying to escape or even speaking without their Master's presance would result in punishment - with the Witcher, nuzzling his cheek to reassure him everythings going be alright he turns to nuzzle back to hide his tears forming in his eyes.

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

#The Witcher Fanstory Collection (9 of ?) - Ioroche Fic: 'Will Always be there to Save One no Matter What Happens' (PART 1 of ?) #Set during Quest: Battle of Kaer Morhen (The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt) then diverging #iorveth/roche #geralt/regis #Emotional Angst #Emotional comfort shared between Geralt and Roche #Captured by the Enemy #Wild Hunt #Iorveth is in brief coma at the start #Vernon is a half-elf of Royal Half-Elf Bloodline #slow-burn romance #Emotional angst #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #CW: slight gore and violence referenced #Images sourced from various sources #The Witcher Fanstory Collection #the witcher

[sparklepirate]

Having many thoughts about sexy pheromone furry elf Blödhgarm.

#namely how to inject him into my fanfic to make characters question their sexualities #unfortunately I don't think I can swing it #ashna reads the inheritance cycle #brisingr #blödhgarm