#in my headcanon shes a half dryad
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I love my bg3 character she looks like a leaf
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Dadstarion prompt:
Caretaker takes the kid to a fair, playground, restaurant or shopping, just spending the day and having fun together
Ha! Take that. Pure fluff. What could possibly go wrong??
Synopsis: Tiriel and Astarion take Alethaine to a fair.
Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, fluff, a snippet into the future
Another fluffy thing I have written! And there is also a snippet into the distant future with adult Tiri who hasn't inherited her mother's macabre nature!
Alethaine's age - 12-years-old
Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
Guide on How To Skin Monsters
Tiriel stops at the daggers’ stall. All of them look rather dull and Tiriel decides to search for something better for Astarion. Besides, he prefers to choose weapons for himself and Tiriel can always get something else – a book, jewelry, or a shirt. He always huffs when she brings him gifts, but she knows he is grateful for those little reminders of her care.
“Looking for something?” A merchant, a halfling woman, asks.
“Nothing in particular,” Tiriel says.
The halfling is definitely in the mood for talking and starts gossiping about a feud between two noble human houses, a serious plague “originated by giants” and someone’s wife cheating with an ork.
“Oh, and have you heard? There was a murder in Secomber! The whole family was slaughtered and by whom? A dhampir!”
Tiriel takes her eyes off the daggers.
“Yes! A half-vampire! Can you imagine sleeping with a vampire? But I think their mother was assaulted. Anyway, the dhampir grew up and slaughtered the whole family! Those half-undead are merciless cruel creatures, and they say there are so many of them!”
“Yeah… cruel monsters they are,” Tiriel mutters.
She heard of the slaughter, but there were no dhampirs or vampires involved. Just a young man possessed by a dryad. He was hanged a week later, but someone started spreading rumors his mother fucked a vampire and that’s why her child grew up so bloodthirsty.
Tiriel feels pale hands hugging her waist from behind. Alethaine presses her face against her back – she is 12 but she is still cuddly as a little child.
“Oh, is this your daughter? Such an adorable little girl. How old is she?”
“Alethaine,” Tiriel touches her fingers.
“I am twelve,” she says, trying not to betray her fangs.
“Oh… I am sorry… didn’t notice she was an elf.” The merchant apologizes and then proceeds to tell other gossip.
“Have a nice day,” Tiriel says, taking Alethaine’s hand.
“You too! And beware the dhampirs!”
“Beware the dhampirs my ass,” Tiriel says, moving further away from the obnoxious halfling.
“I can bite her,” Alethaine suggests. She is twelve, but elves mature slower than humans and half-elves and Tiriel notices her daughter sometimes behaves like a younger child.
“No, we are not biting people we don't like.”
“Dad wouldn’t mind if I bit her!”
“Hm, good thing it’s daylight then!” Tiriel rubs Alethaine’s ear. She knows her daughter too well not to notice the merchant’s words upset her.
Cruel merciless creatures? Alethaine cries her eyes out every time someone dies in the books she reads! Well, she mostly sympathizes with dragons and monsters – but also with orphan children, victims of arranged marriages and curses.
And little dead animals.
Little dead animals are a whole different story. It’s been three years, but Alethaine still feels sorry about an albino kitten killed by a stranger. The dhampir accidentally resurrected the pet and now Tiriel and Astarion also face the issue of raising a necromancer.
“Hey, don’t be sad!” Tiriel leans to a little dhampir. “Do you want anything?”
Alethaine doesn't answer. She stops by the book stall completely enchanted by a huge black volume covered in leather.
How to Skin Monsters.
Aletaine immediately flips the pages, and Tiriel sees intricate and creepy pictures of the insides of different beasts and monsters. She’d fought many of them in her lifetime (beholders in the Underdark are still one of her worst memories), but never ever did she want to look at their remains, let alone study them.
“Hey, don’t touch it!'' The merchant tries to take the book away from Alethaine’s hands, but the dhampir keeps holding it with her iron grip. “I think this book is rather dark for a little lady like you.”
“Mum, look, the cover is made of human skin,” Alethaine casually says. “No. It’s half-elf actually.”
“No it isn’t!” The merchant protests. “It’s… wolfskin!”
Liar, Tiriel realizes. She has good perception skills, and the merchant lies. And the dhampir necromancer has already passed the verdict.
Alethaine puts the book away and takes another one – a green volume with letters in Espruar.
“Is it just a collection of stories or the real guide on Feywild?’” Alethaine asks. “People who have never messed with fey write all sorts of fairytale stuff about pink unicorns and fairies who grant wishes.” She opens the book which is written with trembling handwriting. “Oh, I see. Looks like a feverish nightmare. So the writer has been there.”
The book merchant looks at Tiriel with a facial expression she knows too well.
What crypt did you find this child in?
“I have some ballads and traveler guides. Maybe...it is more for your age?” he asks
“Travelers guide on what places?”
“Icewind Dale, but it’s a rather uncomfortable read…”
“I’ve read about Icewind Dale,” suddenly something else attracts her attention and she points at a small book with a dragon on its cover. “Show me this!”
The merchant sighs in relief and reaches for the storybook. Tiriel looks at the pages – even though she still experiences issues with reading, she sees that it's just an adventure story about knights, princes, dragons, and treasure hunting.
Something her daughter stopped reading when she was five or six.
“I will take this too,” Alethaine declares.
“Eighty silver for all three,” the merchant says.
Too much, Tiriel thinks. Alethaine frowns but doesn’t try to bargain. For some reason, she is very shy when it comes to arguments.
“Thirty silver,” Tiriel intervenes. “And we are not telling anyone about the half-elf skin you’ve bound the book with.”
“It’s not made of anyone’s skin!”
“I can hear her screams,” Alethaine whispers, flipping the book pages. “They flayed her when she was still alive!”
The merchant gulps. Tiriel chuckles. So, this is true and the merchant knew it.
“All right. Thirty,” he mutters and Alethaine happily gives him the silver coins.
Alethaine puts the books in her black bag and wishes the merchant good night. The man mutters something not appropriate for children’s ears.
“Did you catch the scent of the skin or it’s more like your necromancy skills?” Tiriel asks, taking her daughter’s hand as they stand by the stall with needles and threads.
She shrugs. “I-I don’t know. Maybe both.”
“Do you know if Dad needs something to sew?” Tiriel still can’t really tell apart shades of the same color and all needles look the same to her.
“Take the black threads,” Alethaine says, touching the samples of fabric. “He’s always out of them.”
Tiriel nods. She doesn’t know why and when Astarion decided to make all his daughter’s wardrobe black, but here they are. Alethaine got from black onesies to black dresses, from black nappies to black skirts, gloves, and coats. Only her shoes and boots aren’t made by Astarion - and they are as pitch dark as everything else.
A few hours later, at sunset, they sit on the grass outside the market. It’s a beautiful summer sunset and Tiriel adores the light. Alethaine sits on her traveling cape and takes out one of her new books.
“Interesting?”
“Uh-um,” she nods, completely taken away.
Tiriel smiles to herself. She’s never been a stranger to violence and dark things – if you faint at the sight of a blood sacrifice, you won’t survive in the wilderness. But having a child like this takes everything to another level.
Death, dark arts, corpses – they have a special appeal to Alethaine, the same one Tiriel feels towards fights.
The sun sets and Tiriel sits beside Alethaine. Darkvision allows her to see in gray colors and Tiriel sees a picture of the monster inside.
“All right, now I understand who all these people were who hired me to bring them certain parts of the beasts I killed.”
“Dad is coming,” she says. “Or another vampire, but I think Dad scared all of them away.”
Tiriel smiles. “Good thing vampires hate the presence of each other.” She stands up and approaches the edge of the hill. Yes, Alethaine is right – Astarion has left his daylight shelter in the nearby inn. She can see his silhouette from the distance – white hair and black armor she can’t mix with anyone else.
She waves to him and he quickens his steps.
“Hello, darling,” he murmurs in her ear the moment he hugs her. Astarion pecks her cheek and Tiriel rubs his left ear.
“Dad! Look what I’ve bought!”
Tiriel thinks Alethaine will show him the anatomy book, but, instead, she hands him the adventure story.
Astarion studies the first page, then another. Tiriel watches them carefully.
“I just don’t get it,” Alethaine admits. “Is it about how to enter the thieves’ guild or how to smuggle drugs?”
“None,” Astarion returns her the book. “It’s about how to find a job as a bounty hunter in Neverwinter.”
“Oh, I misread the symbols then,” Alethaine pouts.
“Wait, the book is in Thieves Cant?” Triel asks.
“Yes. Hidden deep under snotty stories,” Astarion answers. “And what are these two monstrosities?”
Alethaine proudly opens the anatomy book as Astarion studies the Feywild one. Tiriel barely prevents herself from laughing as she sees Astarion cringing at the pictures. Vampire or not, he saw so many disgusting and cruel things he hated looking at them.
Then Alethaine yawns.
“Let’s go home,” Tiriel says. It will take them till sunrise to return to Daggerlake. If they don't hurry they will need to set up a camp for the daylight - or leave Astarion behind which Tirel absolutely hates to do.
It’s not like it’s a big deal right now – thirty-two years since he gained his freedom, he has nothing to fear. More than that, Tiriel is sure there is simply no other monster in the area who could be a threat to Astarion. He is a vampire, an undead, a skilled rogue, a dangerous assassin.
But when he is alone, the nightmares slowly crawl back. The loneliness fuels his memories and there are so many of them. Thirty-two years are simply not enough. Astarion can handle that too – he’s learned to. But Tiriel doesn’t want him to face mental struggles if it can be avoided.
Alethaine walks in front of them and Tiriel takes Astarion’s hand in hers. They are her little family – everything she’s ever wished for.
She looks at Astarion and notices his lips are squeezed and there is some anxiety in his eyes.
Hunger.
“Go for a hunt, we will wait for you”.
“Nonsense, let’s return home sooner.”
Tiriel doesn’t push it. They agreed years ago that Alethaine isn’t to see him dining on her mother (because it’s absolutely a sexual thing and must remain behind closed doors) and also that she shouldn’t see him feed on animals (because her dhamprisim might get awoken – blood will tempt her and they don’t want their daughter to become more a vampire then she already is).
Of course, she isn't stupid, she knows her father drinks blood. She often sees bite marks on Tiriel when she forgets to cover them – but the process remains out of sight.
It’s already sunrise when they reach Daggerlake and Astarion walks forward not to risk staying in the sun.
By the time they return home, Alethaine rushes upstairs to prepare for sleep. She sleeps a lot, even more than a human would – and Tiriel wonders how much dhampirism affects her sleeping habits.
“So, is the book really about how to be a mercenary?” Tiriel asks closing the door to the bedroom
Astarion has already put off his doublet and now sits on the bed watching Tiriel.
He waits.
“Yes. It was a guide on how to find people who will give her a job as a mercenary,” he slowly answers as if he had to concentrate on speaking. His eyes are focused on her neck.
“And can she read this book?”
“She thought it was about smugglers and thieves. Her skills aren’t that good.”
Tiriel approaches Astarion and he tugs her closer, forcing her to sit on his lap.
Astarion is no longer a sweet caring elf – his predatory side is on the loose and he pierces her skin with his nails as the fangs are looking for the vein.
Tiriel wraps her hands around his neck and lets herself drown in painful pleasure.
“Take as much as you need,” she murmurs. “I love you.”
She feels like falling into the warm dark void and, when she almost crosses the border of no return, the tender hands let her go and she finds herself on the bed with Astarion carefully applying a bandage on her fresh bite mark.
“Thank you,” he says, kissing her with his blood-stained lips.
“Will you stay with me when I sleep?”
“Of course,” he chuckles. “Besides Alethaine has occupied the bathroom – she isn't getting out any time soon”
“Oh… and I forgot…” Tiriel points at her bag. “I’ve bought you some black threads and new needles.”
Astarion kisses her cheek. “Such a caring and thoughtful wild girl. Now I have something to occupy myself with while you are asleep.” He takes her nightshirt from the floor. “Do you have anything in mind? I noticed you’ve ripped it.”
“Me? Astarion, you rip my clothes all the time!”
He unfolds the shirt showing the ripped collar. “Yeah, I agree. My fault. So, what patch do you want?”
“Maybe a dragon? A black one?”
Astarion covers her with a blanket – the one she uses when she sleeps alone – and sits on the floor with the shirt and the needle.
“I have a daughter who likes seeing monsters’ inside-outs and a wife who likes murdering monsters. Can someone in this family enjoy nice and cute things?” He pouts.
“Imagine Alethaine having a child who enjoys such things. She will pout then, ‘no one in her family has taste for macabre’”.
Astarion chuckles, and Tiriel wraps herself in the blanket.
Safe. She feels safe.
And loved.
**
Sewing has always helped Astarion to concentrate. It’s been centuries since he needed to shut the darkness up. Memories of his enslavement, memories of the misery have faded away and feel like a distant nightmare.
But habits never truly go, and Astarion enjoys sewing patches and repairing clothes even though the old purpose of that process has long gone.
“You know, for someone who is an elf and was raised as an elf, you are very messy,” Astarion says looking at the ripped cape. It looks like it was chewed by a tarrasque.
“It’s not my fault! I was careful!” Tiri objects. She is making new arrows (as she lost the whole quiver while running from a particularly nasty behir in the Underdark the previous day).
Astarion chuckles. Tiri, his granddaughter, showed up at his place deep in the Fairgheight Range five years ago. Red-haired like her grandmother, she was eager to see the world beyond the Isle of Evermeet – and she still doesn’t show any desire neither to return to her parents nor leave him be and travel alone.
“What patches do you want?” Astarion asks and takes his sewing kit from the traveling sack.
“Well, I am an adult independent woman…” Tiri starts.
“You are thirty and you are an elf. You are basically a child.”
“Hm, you were a magistrate and mum would work for smugglers using her necromantic skills. Barely a child activity.”
“So?”
“I want a unicorn patch,” Tiri finally admits. “Or a butterfly. Don’t laugh, ar’o’su!”
“I don’t, damia,” Astarion finds white threads. “Besides, Alethaine has never been fond of cute and nice things.”
“Mum has her own idea of what is nice and what is cute,” Tiri touches a thin tiara on her hair. While all Tiri’s clothes are made according to Wood Elves traditions, her father’s ancestors, the tiara is pitch black and with a small skull in the center. It definitely belonged to Alethaine and then she just passed it to her only daughter.
Tiri puts the new arrows on the ground and lies on her bedroll to reverie. Her drake, Aurix, immediately nestles on her chest like a cat.
Astarion casts a glance at his granddaughter. She has a certain similarity to Tiriel – and Astarion knows she would have loved her. But half-elves have such an offensive short life span in comparison with elves she had no chance to see little Tiri. At the same time, her facial features are her mother’s and sometimes she speaks like her. There is something else, something unfamiliar – Tiri’s father and their ancestors.
And she loves cute and nice things - and cringes at the sight of monsters’ inside-outs. Necromancy scares Tiri and she admits she’s never been to her mother’s dungeons just because of how uncanny it was for her. And elves would often joke that their “witch-queen” just kidnapped Tiri because no way someone like Alethaine could give birth to such a sweet young woman.
Astarion pierces the fabric with the needle.
“Well, so be it, a unicorn.”
--
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#astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3 astarion#bg3#astarion romance#astarion bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion x tav#alethaine ancunin#astarion being a dad#dadstarion#astarion fluff#spacebarbarian fics#astarion ancunin#astarion baldurs gate#astarion brainrot#astarion fanfic#tiriel of the sunset mountains#tiriel the barbarian#astarion x tiriel#oc tav: tiriel#dhampirs of the sword's coast#snippet of the future#elves#baldurs gate 3 astarion
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♡My immortal Jaskier headcanons♡
So here are my headcanons, because I refuse to believe that our ball of sunshine has an expiration date...
So, I know Lauren said that Jaskier not aging in the show was just a filming mistake, something they simply forgot to do and on a completely logical level I am fully aware that in canon Jaskier is completely human, 100%. And I also know that they're not gonna change it, no matter how much some of us may wish they did (Although why not? They already strayed so far from the books and made so many changes, might as well go the extra mile)
Realistic-ish headcanons:
- Jaskier is part elf, perhaps quarter elf like Yennefer, it is an entirely justifiable headcanon, theoretically, Jaskier's human father could have married a half elf commoner woman (who may or may not have had the pointy tips on her ears cut off with a knife to avoid human prejudice)
- Jaskier has a fae ancestor, somewhere many many generations back in his ancestry, so his entire family is suspiciously long lived but nobody cares because Lettenhove isn't politically important and therefore doesn't catch the attention of the prejudiced Nobles farther up the royal court chain.
- Jaskier unintentionally drinks the same elixir mages/sorcerers drink to prolong their life. I read that chaos wielders don't have naturally long lifespans, they semi-regularly drink an elixir with mandrake roots in it to slow the aging process. According to Witcher Wiki, you can only buy mandrake root in Lindenvale and my headcanon is that Jaskier experiments with many different tea blends to see which one is more effective for soothing his throat after singing. So at the age of 29-30, he wanders into Lindenvale and buys some dried mandrake to make a tea, after one sip he felt more rejuvenated than ever and since that day, mandrake root tea has become his number one go-to, he drinks it as often as he can.
More fanfic centric, less canon possible headcanons:
- Jaskier is a Dryad. (Yayyy trans Jaskier headcanon) Since Lettenhove is so tiny, it isn't even on the Witcher continent map, but a simple Google search says that it is Located somewhere in Kerack. Kerack borders with Brokilon, so it's kind of a nifty little loophole for fanfic writers to use and place Lettenhove somewhere near the forests where Dryads live.
And while most Dryads treat any man that enters their realm as a mere sperm donor, Witcher Wiki does also mention that some Dryads can form emotional relationships and fall in love with humans and/or elves, but in the end, all Dryad born offspring is AFAB. So imagine this, Jaskier's father falls in love with a Dryad, she falls in love with him, they have Jaskier, Jaskier notices early on that he feels like a boy and his rich Viscount father hires a mage to help Jaskier transition early.
- Jaskier is a higher vampire, higher vampires are a HIGHLY secretive society, even in canon, part of the reason why even Witchers have so little information about them is because they prefer to hide in plain sight and are ridiculously good at it. Jaskier doesn't age, has no self-preservation instincts, doesn't buy a horse and yet still keeps up with Geralt on foot for 20 years. Jaskier's personality isn't fake, he doesn't act like someone else, it's all him, but his clumsiness is a little bit of an act, he also purposefully avoids physical fights, it comes across as fear of getting hurt but in reality it's because he's afraid of appearing too strong and exposing himself. Lettenhove doesn't appear on maps, because it doesn't exist legally, it's just a castle hidden in the woods, a safe place for higher vampires, kinda like Kaer Morhen is for Witchers, Jaskier's parents just happen to be the ones who run it.
#witcher netflix#netflix witcher#jaskier#part elf jaskier#fae jaskier#dryad jaskier#trans jaskier#vampire jaskier#julian alfred pankratz#geraskier#yennskier#lambskier#jaskel#jaskier headcanons#immortal jaskier#dandelion#witcher geralt#geralt of rivia#witcher fic#witcher headcanon#yennefer of vengerberg#witcher cirilla#ciri witcher#witcher jaskier#jaskier dandelion#headcanons#the witcher
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What’s the most complicated doll/doll piece you’ve made?
Do you have headcanons about your dolls?
(I can’t make this text regular size, tumblr is being wacky </3)
It's all good! Thank you for sending in your questions, they're a delight! ^^
22. What’s the most complicated doll/doll piece you’ve made?
This is a tricky one that can have about five answers. XD So I'm gonna give you a top five, with photos!
First is the most recent of the bunch. This is Elara Roux, she was for an Autumn Court collab. This doll's dress is one of the most elaborate garments I've crafted (and here I am wanting to sew it again for a Christmas tree doll, send help ^^''''). She's one of the hardest dolls to get to stand properly between the poofy dress not playing well with stands and the antlers adding a bunch of weight. I have to say, I'm very proud of her antlers, they were difficult to sculpt but a lot of fun, and proof that I'm getting better at polymer clay. She's also my first doll with vitiligo, which was a fun challenge to take on. I love her, so so much. She's difficult to photograph, but we're learning.
Dina the Dryad was a lot. She has a bunch of body sculpting and painting, a new arm and hand, and during her project, the humidity was hurting my sealant so much. Her face went through a couple iterations before I could fix it.
Kendra is one you don't hear me talk about much. I was in hell trying to make the resin work. I mixed up too much pigment (and the wrong pigment, seriously don't use alcohol inks with UV resin, bad idea) and it wouldn't cure properly, so her gems and the ball details on her lower half were difficult. She's also my only doll with alcohol inks coloring the skin, which I like the look of, but it was very messy. XD I love her face so much though, the lotus details on her eyes are something I need to give to another doll.
Norman is the most unconventional doll I've made. He involved full body sculpting and painting, additional sculpted pieces for his speaker and shoulder reel, a head made out of craft foam and a hinge joint so it can open to hold the candle light, wires and chords, aaaahhh, he's a lot. XD Attaching the projector to the doll's head was also a challenge. Honorary mention to Belphene, the doll with the red dress and horns, she's also complicated with those horns and having to draft her clothing pattern for myself. But I have one more pick that's not her.
It probably surprises no one that Auran is one of the most complicated dolls of my collection. XD For starters, he's one of my few hybrid dolls. His parts consist of an Invisi Billy head on an Obitsu male body (yes I ordered a special body for him, it was VERY IMPORTANT), and I had to modify the nose with apoxie sculpt to fit his design. His head used to be blue, and painting it to be smooth and have a matching skintone to the body was tough. My dad actually stepped in on this one, we needed to change out the neck peg for a different sized one so the head would stay on. His hair was redone a couple times, as were his clothes. His resin gem on the collar took multiple attempts before I could call it good, and the shoes were a nightmare even though I used a My Scene shoe as the base. I'm super proud of his epaulets, they're polymer clay shaped and glossed to look like turtles, which is caramel with pecans in it and chocolate on the bottom and top. It's one of my favorite things that Mom makes around Christmas time, so naturally he had to have them. He's one of those dolls that I put so much into, and I'm glad I did, but I needed a long break when he was done because it was so taxing. XD Worth it.
24. Do you have headcanons about your dolls?
Oh I have so many headcanons about my dolls! Who gets along, which ones like being next to each other, the things they might talk about while I'm away, there's a lot to think about.
These two sets surprised me a lot. I made Gail and Delilah separate from each other, but during the time that I was moving, I had to pack up all of my dolls so I could carry them over. These were the two I kept out during that time, and then I photographed them together, since Delilah is one of my favorites, and Gail was recent that summer, and they're both pink and delightful. I think the two of them are long distance girlfriends in my Equinox story, with Gail hailing from the spring kingdom as an assistant to the royals there, and Delilah as a pastry fairy that lives in the central kingdom. They send letters, and maybe someday they'll get to live together. They certainly do on my shelf, these two are rarely seen apart, I never want to put them away.
Marnie and Valencia are a similar story. I made these two beverage witches for the first collaboration I ever hosted, and somewhere in there, they ended up as girlfriends. XD Marnie is the studious bookworm that's always working hard while at the cafe, whereas Valencia is very chill and embraces the vibes of the beach. There's something charming in how opposites attract.
Thank you for the questions! If anyone would like to ask more, the ask game is here!
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gremble watches a hexer: episode 3
So this is the episode in which Geralt meets Renfri, and the vibes are very different from TWN.
It really changes their dynamic to have him be brand new on the Path, and for Renfri to be, in essence, his first extended interaction with a human. He's still trying to figure out what humans are like, he clearly wants to be able to put people in neat boxes -- but there's Renfri complicating the narrative by being undeniably a victim, but also eager and willing to immediately turn around and become a villain in her own right.
It also changes their dynamic that none of Geralt's decisions re: Renfri are motivated by wanting to fuck her. (I'm pretty sure he doesn't, anyway.) Like, she makes that play, when she's looking for a hook that’ll give her a way to control Geralt -- same way we saw her make that play with the thugs planning to kill her in her introductory scene -- but there’s no sense that it’s motivated by desire, just cold calculation.
(And when Geralt's like “uhm, no,” she taunts him and asks if he's incapable of it. She's not a nice person.)
There's no guarantee that they won't fuck later, because compulsory heterosexuality, but she is definitely not being set up like a love interest.
She's quite unlikable in this, and I get the impression that she's supposed to be—that you can pity her, to be sure, because she has indeed been wronged, but she's not a sweet and blameless “ideal victim.”
idk, it's just interesting.
*
FROM THE TOP!
*
Not a fan of threats of sexual violence being used as a plot device, but good on this girl for straight-up stabbing the dude!
(I assume the girl Geralt rescued is Renfri, since the dudes claimed she was a mutant before he killed them.)
*
Hm, and here is Vesemir telling Geralt he shouldn't have stepped in to kill the would-be rapists: “And if there were witnesses to this, what would they think of a crazed witcher cutting down half a dozen people?”
Foreshadowing for Blaviken, much?
Vesemir is ~banished~ from Kaer Morhen, wot? How does that even work? Seems like if you did something bad enough to get “banished” it would be bad enough that they wouldn't trust you on the Path anymore.
*
lol these subtitles are calling the path “the route,” which doesn't quite have the same ring to it.
*
Not really a fan of Renfri's actress or characterization in this one, she comes off like a spoiled child.
...A very mercurial and manipulative child.
*
Hah, I like that Roach has been trained to ignore commands from non-Geralt people. That vibes with my headcanon for why he likes Difficult horses.
*
...lolol okay I did enjoy the bandit jumping out to try to scare them, and then Renfri just bitchslaps him.
Renfri: TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER.
Bandit: I--
Renfri: SILENCE, YOU FUCKING SWINE, I TOLD YOU TO TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER.
Bandit: ...yes ma’am. 😞
*
100% A+ that Geralt carries his saddlebags with him when he goes into town! Yes! As he would! Same as you don't leave your purse sitting your unlocked car!
*
PFFT.
Hooray for Geralt saving a dryad from a basilisk or whatever, after she'd been shot with an arrow!
Oh no the arrow was poisoned!
It's okay, Geralt will suck the poison from the wound!
...It is awkward that she got shot in the tit though.
*facepalm*
It doesn't feel that sleazy, because Geralt doesn't feel sleazy—he's quite utilitarian about the whole business—but that is still a Choice someone made.
*
Oh no, Geralt is about to look “”hideous”” from taking his potions!!
Will it be less of a cop-out than TWN???
Answer: not in the slightest, he just looks like he’s on MDMA.
*
I do wish they would stop trying to force love interests on Geralt every episode, especially since they are developed so staggeringly shallowly, and we all know they're not sticking around anyway.
Also this actress looks VERY, VERY YOUNG, like, that is a child young, like, that could be a boy-child young, because they look the same pre-pubescent.
*
lolol Queen of the Dryads looks like Scully in camo facepaint. Welp, no one better for the job!
*
“I am a witcher, a mutated human. We are not allowed to love; maybe we cannot.”
THIS IS THE KIND OF CONFLICT I'M HERE FOR, BABY. 😎
*
lol I do like the “mama with a shotgun” vibe for the dryad queen. Like, Yes thank you for saving my girl, I appreciate it a lot, and now you are going to let her down gently, and you are going to leave. 🙃🙃🙃
*
The subtitles have definitely gotten better, and despite the excruciatingly tedious compulsory heterosexuality, this episode was a lot livelier than the previous episodes. Would recommend starting with this one, I think. You really don't need any backstory from the first two.
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so...I got a bit of a headcanon that for some reason only came to me just now
so, most of the empires fandom, from what I've seen, headcanons Gem as a satyr or a dryad(?) and fWhip usually as a man-turned-gargoyle/dragon. and they're usually siblings.
but...here's my headcanon (it's mostly for Gem but it could work for fWhip as well): what if, they're part dragon?
like, one parent is a dragon, the other a human? if they even have parents? for all we know, they don't.
to me at least, it makes sense.
Gem's magical abilities - unrivaled by any other in the kingdom other than a demon, her horns which are usually deer antlers but a dragon can have deer antlers too, her connection with the Ender Dragon, why she's so protective over the dragon egg, her connection to the dragons that now fly about her kingdom, all of it...could mean she's part dragon.
and fWhip, well, he's a bit different but a connection can be made, maybe a bit more like the traditional image of a dragon.
fWhip is obsessed with a shiny object, he covets the deepslate redstone and hoards it, he has a cave lair and he sleeps with his riches (storage building), he's got a way with magic - bending the redstone unlike any other, he's got an affinity for chaos and destruction but all in good fun like a dragonling play-fighting, he's incredibly tough-skinned for someone who looks so human, and that's not to mention his wings - which technically are a gift from the redstone corruption.
Now, I might be stretching the idea a bit with fWhip but I still think it could work - not all half-breeds look the same. and maybe at first, that's how it is with Gem and fWhip - maybe they come into their dragon sides at different times, maybe the dragon sides are awoken through some means like in Skyrim with the Dragonborn?
if that last maybe is correct, Gem would've come into her dragon self at a young age, probably as a child, or maybe even just born that way. and for fWhip, maybe he looked human for most of his life but came into his powers when the redstone corruption gave him wings.
it's just some food for thought
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It’s nearly 2am when I. Sending this, sorry if it’s incomprensivle
feelings about Pollux and castor from pjo because of your blog,,,, I just. Hhhh. Man,,,, :( basically
hhhhhhh they deserved better. Castor shouldn’t have died and Pollux should have lost a brother. Dionysus shouldn’t have lost a son that I remember him caring about.
Also this ask was completely comprehensible. It’s 1 am for me when answering this ghjshg
My computer is going to die soon but i say fuck it
here’s some headcanons for them, keep in mind it’s been forever since i read botl and remember very little canonically about them
headcanons below the cut
They have different powers, despite being identical twins.
Castor has more plant based powers - he grows grapes in his mother’s garden to annoy his father, and he makes the strawberries in camp go wild. Dryads and satyrs love him because he loves nature so much
Pollux is great at acting and with that comes insanity. It takes him a while to master his skills but eventually he’s so good with them even a look can send you into a panic.
Eventually Dionysus has to keep him at camp while his brother goes out and does things
Pollux, much to his father’s chagrin, becomes a world famous actor, though he doesn’t do press interviews and no one knows where he lives.
Pollux and Mr. D never forget Castor
They carry on his memory by doing little extra things for fruit plants
The Demeter Cabin helps with this
Everyone assumes Castor was the gay one - he wasn’t. Pollux actually settled down with a roman legacy of Thalia (the muse of comedy)
They met at one of his half sister’s stand-ups
Castor, watching from Elysium, couldn’t have been more proud
Castor and Pollux are legacies of Apollo in his roman form. Dionysus has no idea and he will never find out
Their mother is a kind woman with a rooftop garden. She is strong and loyal, and she works at one of those wine making places. (idk wine sucks imo)
Castor and Pollux love their father - he may be a ittle tired and rude, but he is caring and he loves them more than most gods love their children
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trials of apollo tower of nero reaction
sooooo major spoilers and all that jazz here are my main reactions.
-i love love LOVE that Apollo does not get into a new a romantic relationship. same with Meg. Riordan finally breaking his own trope?
-i feel so bad that Dionysus is STILL being punished 100 years to run camp half blood for chasing a nymph that Zeus wanted. That feels disproportionate to Apollo, who got punished for “possibly starting the Gaea war”. (Altho at least Dionysus got to keep his godly powers.)
-I like the Python fight at face value more than I expected- it was what the BoO Gaea final fight *should* have been like. There wasn’t much buildup to how scary Python could be and i wish there was. However, the fight was actually difficult, required multiple stages/methods, Apollo was believably at a disadvantage. Python, his lair, and his powers, once we saw him, was actually kinda scary/threatening. I will await a few days to see if i still think this.
-I dislike Caleo, but I like this “ending”- Leo stays at Waystation with Jo & Emmie as adopted parents and some positive platonic female role models in his life. I personally headcanon that after Calypso finishes band camp, she & Leo realize that they can be good friends but not good relationship. Calypso might have needed someone to rescue her from Ogygia, but she does not need a relationship to fix her once she’s out.
-Piper and Shel *literally* came out of nowhere. Her Jason breakup made sense to me. Her getting over Jason *that* fast, though, does not.
-How come Lavinia doesn’t get an epilogue moment?
-Nero was a joke. Why the fuck did he make like 20~ remote controls. Even Commodus was more threatening than Nero.
-How did all the camp halfblood + trogs escape the tower when Nero pushed the gas thing?
-Badass Nico is back yay! But dammit, a lot of it is offscreen again. I also like that he still has the “please dont touch me unless I’m ok with it” thing. I also do appreciate that he’s not OP- his fight attempt at Nero was the only thing that made Nero seem any bit frightening.
-Apollo did not need to summarize every terrible thing that happened to Nico. Nico is arguably one of the most popular characters and I’m sure Riordan knows it. I also wish it was Nico (or maybe even Will) that confirmed for us that he was gay. I dont mind Will saying “I think Nico has PTSD”, but it feels pretentious coming from Apollo.
-Did Nico ever find out Reyna became a Hunter of Artemis? I wonder how angry he’ll get...
-Lu & Apollo’s jailbreak wasnt bad, but I still like Hazel/Percy/Frank’s jailbreak from the Amazons during SoN more.
-ok so education plothole: Annabeth was on the run at 7yo, then she was a year-rounder at camp halfblood. camp halfblood, unlike New Rome/Camp jupiter, does not have a schooling system. Annabeth also has dyslexia/ADHD- how did she manage to keep on track with her education enough to test into UC berkeley? I might make a post about this some more.
-ok i like that paul blofis is basically a rick riordan self insert.
-the dryad fight in nero’s throne room was actually threatening :( i also like that the nero throne room fight had several stages and, despite the trogs & nico, it did not feel like 20 deux ex machinas like in TLO
-why was apollo all giggly in the control room when nico rescued him? he’s gotten knocked in the head before, but this is the first time he was giggly.
-How did Apollo manage to claim 3 new kids while he was Lester? I can believe that he impregnated 3 people 10~ years ago and forgot about them tho.
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what's a witcher headcanon you have but has literally nothing to back it up?
like i know eskel would be scary good at estimating times for a microwave and milva would be a god at jenga. why/how do i know this? who's to say
i can actually somewhat explain both of those headcanons. eskel either can cook (correct, wholesome headcanon) or can’t (wrong, stereotypical canon) and both of these possibilities mean he has to know how to use a microwave really really well. as for milva, butches love construction, jenga is practically the science of building houses but as a game.
as for my own... hm kind of difficult because a lot of my headcanons are based in canon so... some of these are more connected to canon than others, but they’re closer to my own uniqueness rather than sapkowski’s work:
dandelion
dandelion’s family (the de lettenhoves) paid for his college education in exchange that he would never use his true name and titles when he published his works, because they are a family largely involved in governmental appointments, and did not want any horrible saucy love poetry (most of what he wrote when he was nineteen) being linked back to them. to this day they’ve disowned him, he lost his lands, and he is forbidden from coming back to any of their estates if not undercover. it’s all very hush-hush. they tricked him into thinking that it was for his own good, telling him that his real name was far too famous, even more famous that he would be soon...
dandelion’s father died when he was young, which led his mother to guide his childhood (basically instructing the servants to raise him) in a strict and masculine direction... this obviously did not work out as planned. but it’s largely why dandelion is regarded as a disappointment by his family, because he was expected to follow in his father’s footsteps to stay at the estates (ha!) and marry (ha!) to create an alliance with another noble family.
dandelion and essi’s entire backstory that i’ve planned out: essi enrolled as a student at oxenfurt and as a first year she was appointed by the department to be under dandelion’s guidance. they hit it off on the wrong foot at first (essi thought dandelion was lazy and slovenly, dandelion thought she was prissy and stuckup). but dandelion quickly recognized that essi was extremely talented and had a gift for music, so he asked her why in hell was she directed for further guidance? she admitted that she had stage fright... horrible stage fright. he laughed, thinking she was joking. she wasn’t. the story that follows then is that essi’s stage fright was symbolized by her iconic hair which fell over one eye, which was mocked by her peers - dandelion advised her to own it instead and turn it into a persona - much like what he did when he was her age, his peers called him dandelion (buttercup) on account of his blonde hair that has a tendancy to fan out like petals, and he adopted it as his persona.
on a similar note, what dandelion’s office at oxenfurt looks like: it’s basically treated as a walk-in closet for outfits he’s purchased but doesn’t have a permanent space elsewhere for. other valuables that can’t be kept on his person or in his saddlebags are kept here too. it’s much less of an office to do work and way more of a storage room. the desk has many finished bottles of alcoholic drinks and a lot of manuscripts stored inside (his own, because of the works he admires, he can recall from memory precisely what was written in them)
milva (sorry all of them are about her being a lesbian)
the dryads of brokilon adore milva more than they would ever let on. they find her very interesting because she’s a human, but she’s also one of them, but she also works with the scoia’tel. when milva comes back to brokilon after a journey, she finds herself crowded by dryads asking her how she is doing and what happened on her trip. because of this, milva’s quite good at storytelling, in her own colloquialisms and manners of speech. the dryads are captured by her stories of the world beyond brokilon, and very much enjoy her company, though milva was unaware of exactly how much they enjoyed it (if you get what i’m saying).
milva realizes she’s a lesbian in toussaint because of her encounter with the baron de trastamara, in which she rebuked his marriage proposal and cried at the kitchen table and in the stables. she appreciated the baron’s friendship more than his romantic advances, and she was crying because she was upset that she couldn’t find true romance in her heart for him. angouleme states at the kitchen table that the hunting trip was overnight, suggesting that the baron asked milva for sex. i headcanon that he did, and milva couldn’t find it in herself to say yes. when the baron became upset at this and pestered her a little to find out why she refused his advances, she had an emotional outburst at him and left at once, for she herself didn’t really know.
additionally, many of the women shopkeepers in toussaint flirted with milva but she didn’t understand their advances. particularly a fishmonger and a fletcher, both of which are OCs... it wasn’t until angouleme (not giving milva an option on whether to accept her company or not) followed milva around on errands one day that she witnessed their interactions and then (in a very annoying little sister manner) bugged milva about how cute of a couple they would be, to which milva took shock and offense. but this got milva thinking about the subject.
regis
regis took on a variety of ridiculous titles when he was younger. “the prince of darkness” and things like this. it added to his already quite-long name. it sounded as stupid as it does with me explaining it.
regis has never paid rent or taxes. he acquired the house and shop in dilingen because he came to the city after he had rehabilitated himself, and found it in a state of disrepair and abandonment. he fixed it up very nicely (perhaps much like as he did with himself... symbolism!) and grew flowers in the windowsills. when city officials came to investigate, accusing him of taking up residence illegally, he simply placed them under a vampire’s spell and told them: “nonsense, i’ve always lived here!” to which they replied, “oh, of course you have, master barber-surgeon! apologies for bothering you!”
in his house and shop in dilingen, the layout is like this: the first floor is the shop, which carries a variety of medicaments, herbal remedies, and also has a setup for surgery. behind a hidden door is the stash of mandrake brew that only select customers know to request (regis only tells them about it if he has vetted them beforehand - i.e., known them well and known them well enough that he knows he will not start an addiction for them, i.e., he doesn’t sell to the young and stupid, or horribly depressed and afraid, but just those looking to enjoy life). the second floor is his house, which is decorated sparsely much like his cottage nearby fen carn. it’s nicer, with furnishings sourced from around the city, but is still humble. the attic is the setup for barber-surgery, but for birds - mostly corvids but other urban birds as well, that have injured themselves or are having other troubles. he welcomes them to roost and come to him with any problems they may be having.
angouleme
angouleme’s biological mother was young(ish) when she had her, which also pressured her into giving her up to relatives - she was an unmarried maiden, and being a noble, that is significant for making political alliances with other noble families. they pretended she was a virgin so she could remarry and bear children in marriage; however, because she and the other nobility of cintra were slaughtered, caught right in the crossfire of the nilfgaardian massacre of cintra, she didn’t survive into her first pregnancy, so angouleme has no bioligical half-siblings.
angouleme is trans and likes dressing femininely, but on account of her situation was never able to on the road, until she got to toussaint and had not only the safety but the finances to do so. somewhat based on canon that she was happy to get out of riding pants in lady of the lake, the narration calls her a “pretty girl”... it’s just nice to imagine her happy and with gender euphoria instead of dysphoria
regis is a good mentor and guardian to her in toussaint. it started as them both being up late in the kitchen and regis (as he does) giving advice, without suggesting any shame or judgement. after a while, angouleme trusted him enough to ask him for help when she got into trouble with local banditry. thens he invited him to help her on heists. he was hesitant at first but agreed, citing that she needed supervision for such activities. he brings a book to read while she does whatever she needs to do, but perhaps is more involved than he would admit - pointing out hidden safes and such in the darkness with his vision.
i didn’t do any for cahir or geralt because i feel like canon’s already gotten them enough?
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What Colour is Gold?
Jercy Fic
This is a fic based on this headcanon. I’m obsessed with Dark!Jercy and since i have a couple Dark Percy fics and one fic of both going Dark i figured its time for Jason to get a taste. I hope you guys enjoy. This was so much of fun to write
Masterlist
--------------------------------------------------------------
when they told me blood smelt like
iron
i grabbed my mother's favourite pan
and sniffed till I got dizzy off the smell
when they told me crying tasted like
salt
i gulped down a glass of ocean water
and watched as tears fell
when they told me silk felt like
polished glass
i dove into the ocean
and scraped shards against shell
i wonder what gold looks like?
maybe it's time to tell
"Dude take my left I'm going for the thing behind us" Percy Jackson yelled, pounding towards the hydra.
"I got you" Jason Grace said, pulling up next to his friend.
"Gods these things get uglier everytime I deal with them" Percy grimaced
"Ugh agreed and those damn empousai are worse than Drew with all the stupid cackling" Jason huffed
"Yea I fought those a while back, they really are the evil cheerleaders of the underworld" His friend grinned sordidly
"I feel like there's a story there but we don't have time right now so add it to the list of stuff you have to tell me when this shit show is over"
Percy laughed before swinging his sword down on one of the slithering snapping heads of the hydra.
"Jay, light it up!"
The blue-eyed boy grinned and pulled lightning from clear skies directly onto the stump of monster neck.
"Damn that never gets old" Percy smirked and then he was back to swinging.
Together the two made a barbecue meal of the hydra and when it crumbled to dust, screeching towards darkness, they laughed.
"Now to get rid of our cheersqaud," Green eyes rolled in annoyance.
"Honestly Percy Jackson how do we end up meeting in such delicious circumstances?"
"Hi Kelli glad to see you look as whole as ever, figured you'd be in the trash since Bob swept you up?"
Jason snickered at the sweetness dripping from his friend's voice.
"An acquaintance Perce?"
"Just some housekeeping jobs gone wrong."
Kelli hissed and with two lethal movements stood in front of the two demigods.
"Your blood is going to be as salty as the ocean Percy Jackson and I cannot wait to drink it.'
"Well that's just dramatic" And with that he swung Riptide around.
It clanged resoundingly against Kelli's bronze leg.
Jason was about to stab from behind when another evil cheerleader popped up next to him. He scrambled back raising his sword. The empousa cackled and shuffled towards him, hair flickering with flames.
He attempted to create a storm, snapping her with lightning.
"Your little tricks do not work on me son of Jupiter." She crowed, pulling her mouth into a fanged grin.
"Guess we'll have to do this the hard way then" He shrugged, striking his sword against the ground.
He snuck a glance at Percy to make sure everything was okay. Rookie mistake. The empousa used that moment to charge.
"Jason!" Percy yelled
He whirled back around to see the evil cheerleader flying towards him. Jason twisted his sword and flung it towards the shrieking monster. With a vile squelch it found its mark and before she could touch the ground she was ash.
He sighed in relief and turned to thank his friend. Percy was lying on the floor, a hand clutching his abdomen.
Bile climbed up Jason's throat as he rushed forward.
"Percy oh my gods what happened? Fuck shit Percy!" He screamed
"Kelli," Percy gasped, eyes rolling back, "Kelli managed to gut me before I killed her."
Jason sobbed as he felt warm red blood soaking through Percy's shirt.
"What must I do? Tell me how to help you?"
"Ambrosia," The demigod rasped, trying to reach his jeans' pockets.
"Right right okay, just stay with me, you aren't allowed to close your eyes you have to stay with me" Jason was hyperventilating
He shoveled some ambrosia into his friend's mouth and watched the green-eyed boy nibble it, groaning as he tried to swallow.
"Thanks buddy, you're a really good—" Percy succumbed to the darkness.
"No no fuck no! Wake up gods fucking dammit open your eyes Jackson!" He yelled
The son of Poseidon did not stir again.
Jason heaved, blueberry pancakes and water.
Minutes later the tears ran dry, and the shaking ceased.
"This is not fucking over." He swore.
And with that he picked up his friend and started walking. If anyone saw him they stayed far away. Those blue eyes crackled with murder.
Someone was going to pay f
Jason walked and walked and walked, until he stood at the entrance to Olympus. Then and only then did he dare look down. Black hair was plastered to a pale forheadhead and blood had soaked right through the Bon Jovi picture. He tightened his grip under his friend's knees and squeezed the hand holding Percy's shoulder.
The Son of Jupiter prowled onto the marble bridge of Olympus and the entire structure shuddered. Each step struck sparks of electricity. Dryads and nymphs scuttled back to their homes, not daring to make a sound. The infinite music halted in a single note. The chatter of thriving life died. The only sound was the heavy, deadly footfall of a demigod.
Jason Grace stepped into the throne room and Gods became men.
"Fix this." Two words.
Nothing had ever sounded so paralyzing.
Nobody moved. No-one dared to loose a breath.
"This is your fault. We were down there because you couldn't keep the monsters out of the fields. FIX THIS!" The blonde haired boy bellowed.
"Son we are sorry but we—"
"I don't fucking care what you can and can't do. Fix him." How does a whisper sound louder than drums.
"We cannot change death Jason Grace." Ares frowned.
"Then you should have prevented it," Still so soft.
"I cannot say I'm unhappy to see him gone," Athena mused, unaware of the volatile half blood in her midst.
Jason's laugh entwined itself around his throat,
"And I thought you were the smart one"
The Goddess of Wisdom did not have time to open her mouth before a sword hilt stuck out of her rib-cage.
Her eyes widened a fraction before she slumped over.
The demigod retrieved his sword, inspecting the gold liquid that clung to it.
"Who's next?"
"You think you can beat all of us Son of Jupiter?" Artemis looked at him with interest
"I don't care if I can, I'll die trying if you don't fix him."
Only malice glittered in his eyes. Nothing of the good boy who followed rules and obeyed the divine.
Nobody bothered to move.
Jason smiled and the skies opened up. Lightning rained down like shards of glass, cutting and searing flesh.
Thunder echoed against the stone walls, loud enough to burst eardrums. Blood dripped down the side of agonized immortal faces. Storms, the demigod thought, had never looked so rich.
"JASON!" Zeus roared.
"What?" His son hissed.
"Stop this right now! Dionysus take Percy Jackson to Poseidon, he is not dead. The sea should heal him. And as for you boy you will not defy us like this ever again. I will strip you of everything you are." Zeus slashed.
"If you don't want me to act like this maybe you should stop getting us into life and death situations."
"Get out and do not come back unless you are invited." His father seethed.
"I always did want to know what gold looked like." Jason Grace grinned.
And all around him drops of sunlight coated the stone floor, dripping from those ancient bodies and glittering in the evening beams.
--------------------------------------------
when they told me blood smelt like
iron
i grabbed my mother's favourite pan
and sniffed till I got dizzy off the smell
when they told me crying tasted like
salt
i gulped down a glass of ocean water
and watched as tears fell
when they told me silk felt like
polished glass
i dove into the ocean
and scraped shards against shell
i'll tell you what gold looks like
go ask the gods
they're bottled sunshine
and I am hell
#Jercy#Jason grace#Percy Jackson#Jason#Grace#Percy#Jackson#Dark Jason#Gods#Goddesses#PJO#HOO#baby fanfic#baby fanfic series#Baby#Fanfic#mini fanfic#fanfic series#jercy fanfic#Dark#fanfiction#Fanfiction series#poetry#original poetry#bad poetry#poem#what colour is gold
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Grain Brain (Son of Demeter!Reader Headcanons)
Requested by @acoustickitten - another incredible requester - for a Son of Demeter with the relationship at my discretion.
Thanks for this one, I feel like there’s so little PJO reader-insert content for males! Anyway, I couldn’t decide, so the first part will be what life is like for a son of Demeter, and the second part will be the relationships, with Luke Castellan (for angst lovers), Will Solace (for the fluffy ones), and Percy Jackson (for a mixed bag). Hope you enjoy!
So, you’re a half-blood.
Children of Demeter are often have it the worst: theoretically, they are the only demigod grandchildren of Kronos hopping along out there: Hestia is an eternal maiden. Hera doesn’t cheat. The Big Three has only had a few slip-ups since their big oath after WWII. Demeter’s the only child of Rhea out there still... producing demigod children.
And your cabin might be the most ridiculed after Aphrodite and Dionysus in terms of combat usefulness.
The general insult for a Demeter kid is Grain Brain. Grain is such a rhymeable word that Cabin Four has been the result of many a scathing limerick from the Apollo Cabin.
But in the future, all those people will look at you as the counterexample.
Sure, Athena and Ares may have superiority in battle tactics and strength. Hermes might be sneaky and crafty and wordy. Apollo might have a huge number of seemingly-unrelated skills. Hephestus might have craftsmanship.
But you have... agriculture?
Woe betide anyone who underestimates the power of Demeter. Like Dionysus’ children, Cabin Four kids may develop some level of control over plants, specifically, anything cultivated.
The dryads are okay with you, but the dryads connected to fruit-bearing trees practically worship you, calling you my lord.
And especially powerful children of Demeter have some minor weather control ability. Demeter once stopped the entire world from getting any weather but scorching sun to hold it hostage for her daughter to be returned. Her children can access this power too.
Make a powerful child of Demeter angry? Clouds part, and the sun heats up like a thousand degrees, as concentrated rays of heat bake the opponent. It can even cross Camp Half-Blood’s magical weather shield.
Another thing Demeter kids have power over is food.
A Demeter kid can curse someone else with excessive hunger, or bless someone to be able to go without food indefinitely. They can also make anything taste like anything else.
They are also often enlisted, along with the Dionysus kids, to help boost the strawberry harvest.
The berries go crazy for Hilary Duff, but early Justin Bieber and Cheetah Girls makes them bananas. So you have to choose the lesser of all evils, because these songs do NOT sound good from a satyr’s pipes.
I feel like a Demeter kid shares some healing with Apollo kids, but can only mainly heal exhaustion, dehydration, anything relating to malnourishment.
Demeter kids can eat whatever they want.
Demeter Chrysaoros was the Lady of the Golden Sword, so don’t tell me Demeter kids can’t fight just as well as anyone else. Demeter’s sword was also made out of part of Kronos’ scythe, so she is powerful.
You are the most powerful son of Demeter in thousands of years. You might be the most powerful child of Demeter since Persephone.
You are the head counselor of Cabin Four, and you make sure everyone is hale and hearty.
Luke Castellan
Luke recognizes your power when he gets to Camp Half-Blood
And it strikes him as unfair that you might be just as powerful as Thalia, but since you weren’t a Big Three kid, you had to make your own way to camp - no seekers out looking for you.
So he and Annabeth adopt you into their little family.
Luke realizes he has fallen for you when he sees how much little Annabeth has taken a shine to you.
He’s known you for about a year when he sneaks out of Hermes cabin with a couple of smuggled Cokes and a Disney movie on cassette.
He asks you to sneak with him into the Big House. You watch the movie in the room usually reserved for the orientation video.
Your head leans on his shoulder because you are tired - it’s the middle of the night.
“Hey, uh, Y/N...”
“Mmm?”
“I really like - uh, this movie.” He can’t do it. He’s almost crying with frustration when he feels you kiss him on the cheek.
“I think I might love this movie.” You say hopefully.
Mr. D doesn’t sleep, and he’s right behind you. Shockingly, he doesn’t turn you both into dolphins, but instead ropes you into a late-night pinochle game with Chiron, who’s tail is in curlers for some reason.
It’s both the happiest and most embarrassing night in your life.
But from then on, you two are the “it” couple at camp.
You two become slightly distant after Luke’s quest, but you think it’s because he’s insecure over his new scar. There’s something missing when you two do seem to regain that lost ground.
When Percy comes to camp and beats Luke in a training duel, you congratulate him and boost his ego, telling him that everybody always ridiculed Demeter kids for not having any good talents, and that he can be good at whatever he chooses.
You are devastated when Luke betrays the gods.
He begs you to join him, but you refuse.
He kidnaps you aboard the Princess Andromeda, but you are rescued by Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson.
It was when you realized Luke was too far gone.
At the Battle of the Empire State Building, you yourself take on Kronos with all the might of your godly parent.
It’s not enough, and you are almost killed.
Luke takes back control for an instant, allowing you the chance to escape
Annabeth and you give the final blow together.
The last thing Luke sees is you.
And you know you will never meet again, not even in death, because Luke was always a pusher, and he’ll reincarnate to get to the Isles of the Blest.
Eventually you age out of Camp Half-Blood and travel the world, searching, hoping you can find happiness once more...
Will Solace
You two are the medicine couple
Feeling bad? Feeling blue? Visit Y/N and Will - odds are one of them will solve your problem.
You hang out with Will in the infirmary, handing out magical crackers that assist with healing.
During the Battle of the Labyrinth, your powers truly blossomed - you granted power to all the fruit-bearing dryads, allowing their trees to come to life and attack the opposing army. Will thought that was so cool - he brags about it every chance he gets.
You and Grover seal Hyperion into the tree during the Battle of the Empire State Building.
You and Will met during archery practice, because as an Apollo kid, he was booked to teach.
Among your numerous talents, archery is not.
You accidentally shoot him.
Although, the way you shot him was worthy of an Apollo kid - the arrow ricocheted off of like, thirteen different things before striking Will.
Not a good idea to have the best healer teach archery
But anyway, you felt so bad that you practically carried him to the Big House
And cried because you never wanted to hurt anyone
Especially not anyone as hot as Will
“Wait, what?”
“Oops.”
“Well, I think you might have to check for another wound.”
“What? Really?”
“Yup. I think you struck my heart with your arrow.”
They change the rule so that no two demigods from different cabins can be alone together because of you two.
You resolve this by camping in the woods overnight - the dryads have got your back.
Although a lot of them will try to steal Will from you, so I guess everything has its ups and downs.
Percy Jackson
At first, you were so annoyed by this sarcastic ball of insecurity.
He comes in here, insulting your godly heritage, making a mockery of all these camp activities, and then he met you
And his jaw drops open.
“Wow. Uh... who’s your godly parent?” he asks, almost in awe
“Demeter.”
He snickers. “The farming goddess?”
Yeah, that was pretty much one of the worst first impressions he could have made.
But he grew on you after a while.
And you... he was gone from the moment you saw he had blue Coke and changed yours to match.
He takes you to meet his mom as soon as possible
And she automatically knows he’s in love because Sally Jackson always knows.
She approves because she sees how much you love him back.
The two of you just started being together one day - neither of you can really pinpoint an exact moment.
Just, somehow, you two held hands and it felt right, so you kept doing it.
And just like that, you were a couple.
Aphrodite once promised to make Percy’s love life interesting.
Well, it doesn’t get much more interesting than you.
#male reader#pjo x male reader#percy jackson x male reader#pjo headcanons#luke castellan x male reader#will solace x male reader#headcanons
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I had to actually look back to see if I made any tumblr posts about these guys. I couldn’t find any??? So I guess this is my oppertunity to scream about these absolute fucking bastards.
Now. Um. Forewarning: I don’t actually know a lot about the original dreamtale. Or, I don’t keep up with it, at least. I read the first origin comic (and a bit of the cream ship comic) one time a while ago and... i dunno. found it lacking? I liked the premise but there was something distinctly missing in it for me. So these headcanons are more like an AU (an AU of an AU, surprise surprise, I’m on my shit again XD) that I thought up to help me enjoy the concept more when writing it. I’ve been calling it ‘Dr33mtal3’ in my head, but a friend named it ‘Dryad Dreamtale’ so either of those names work.
So. Dream and Night are tree spirits shaped like skeletons, born of the tree of duality to be its guardians. They were made to be more like monsters to better protect the tree and put its power to use.
Now, plants and gods (and especially god-plants) have very different ideals, morals, and expectations than mortals and humans and monsters. Dream and Night are half plant/god, but they are also half monster/mortal, so they cannot relate entirely to their tree mom or completely understand her. Likewise, she could not completely understand them. Thus, the twins understandably had a stressful, dysfunctional childhood and have long lasting mommy/daddy issues.
They also suffer from significant other kinds of trauma inflicted on them by their villager guardians.
So they are both psychologically fucked up.
They both have “wings” and “tentacles” but Night hides his wings and Dream hides his tentacles. Night’s wings are smaller than Dreams.
they aren’t actually tentacles though. they are roots and vines. because they are tree spirits. using those roots/vines, they can directly soak up energy and water. likewise, the “feathers” on their wings are actually leaves (except near the base and ridges, which are more like flower petals). they use these leaves to breathe in ambient emotions.
when injured, they bleed resin. that goop on nightmare? excess sap/resin he’s overgenerating thanks to consuming so many apples.
usually only strong internal emotions would make them do that. its only because of such strong internal emotions that nightmare continues to do that even after a thousand years.
i think that, being plants (which are terribly spiteful and innovative creatures) night and dream can control the consistency and nature of their sap and resin. dream keeps his sweet and sugary at all times, but nightmare switxhes between spicy-like-ghost-pepper-in-the-face caustic and rubber, and mild maple syrup, depending on his mood and how much he wants the person he is touching to hurt.
i think that dream is both terribly selfish and painfully selfless all at once, both kind and cruel. i think he is a very seelie fae who will never break a promise, but will not let you go unpunished for breaking yours. i think he has no problem breaking your legs if it means saving you from something else. dream will happily beat someone within an inch of their life, then nurse them back to health, if he thinks for a moment it is for the greater good.
nightmare goes to great lengths to make people hate him. at the end of the day he is as disgusted with himself as anyone else, but he does it and will keep doing it because if no one fears him, they will destroy him. nightmare is a terrible unseelie fae, but he will never speak an untrue word or break an oath once struck. it is not in his nature. he will rule with an iron fist, but he is just as capable of selflessness as he is of cruelty.
i think dream is so concerned with the big picture he sometimes forgets little details. i think he is the type to take in strays before he has a home to keep them in. he befriends ink and ink makes him a multiverse home to keep his people safe in. dream then takes it upon himself to make sure it stays operational, despite eventually accumulating a city’s worth of people in what was originally a 4 bedroom townhouse. lucky him that ink has his back, continually expanding as needed.
i think nightmare is far more artistic and clever than folks give him credit for. i think he enjoys making things. i think he is the type of man to take great pride in building everything he has himself. his castle is made out of his own power: stone made of his own resin, hardened into amber; wood grown from his own bones; tapestries woven of textiles made from his own leaves, pets, and processed wood. his castle of black amber is constructed of his own blood, sweat, and tears, lovingly handcrafted art for him to live in. all natural. all his. (such a shame he never got around to furnishing all of it, having only enough time and drive to do the first floor with how long handweaving the carpets took; such a shame no one noticed or cared because the fear for their lives overshadowed any awe they could have had upon seeing the delicate craftsmanship of the arching ceilings and looming statues).
i think dream and night both love fresh water and sunlight. they get incredibly sleepy if its too hot or too cold. they are terrified of fire, squirrels, fungi, and insects. they dont like birds much either. they easily get jealous of other plants (comically so, to the point of sassing or threatening or passive-aggressively insulting non-sapient rose bushes or fica or succulents they come into contact with). they are scared of mistletoe (being a plant that eats other plants, kinda).
i hc that dream with faint dead on his feet if he gets too scared, and nightmare screams like a white girl in a horror movie.
i like to think that because they are trees, they have a “season” (like heat, but for trees) where they are very pro-affection. their leaves turn pink and they involuntarily cover themselves in pink pollen that drives nearby creatures’ libido into overdrive. neither brother likes this, so when their season hits they hide away so nobody notices (night because he does not want to seem weak, dream because he does not want to inconvenience anyone else).
i like to headcanon that a holdover from their human attributes means each brother can only formulate one set of sex organs. i’ll give you a hint: nightmare is trans in my hc (be gay do crime). he takes great pains to make sure nobody knows this.
i like to think that both brothers hide all of this, hide all of their tree-ness as best they can, and instead hide behind the aspects of being an angel and a tentacle abomination in order to throw off anyone who might look for weaknesses. so nobody knows what they really are.
These are all superficial HCs of course. The big thing is that i wanted their natures to be... more complicated than simply good and evil. They believe and say that they are guardians of positivity and negativity (and in a way thats true), but only in its most simplistic of forms.
Dream is the aspect of Giving: he radiates pollen and magical influence to embue those around him with his power. He can give them emotions. He eats positivity, thats what sustains him, but his power is to give. He could just as easily give his people bad feelings as good ones (not that he knows this). However, Dream only knows and cares about giving positivity. So he does. He leaves his magic and influence on the souls of anyone who will give him the oppertunity, and once the door is open, he will continually feed them his power to make them happy. He will eat/breathe that happiness, converting it to energy, perpetuating the cycle.
But unmitigated mania has its drawbacks. There is a price to be paid in the end.
Nightmare is the aspect of Taking. He takes and takes, taking the emotions and energy of others for himself. He can even take the entropy out of an injury to heal a wound. Nightmare can take positivd feelings out of others, but for some reason his body doesn’t like him doing that and makes him sick/hurt. He has a much easier time taking negativity, draining away the hurt and fear and exhaustion, leaving a calming emptiness behind. Nightmare cannot process or use everything he takes for himself, needing to expell it as a waste product. He converts negative feelings (and the wasted energy disipated through entropy) into energy, which lets him continue his taking.
You cannot fill a hole that is already filled, after all. You must empty it first.
These two aspects are neither good nor evil in and of themselves. There are good and bad things about them. But these aspects have been oversimplified and misinterpreted by those around the twins that even they themselves do not fully understand what it is that they are.
and i think a story about them coming to understand themselves would be so much more interesting than a simple story of good vs evil.
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Original ask: "u know i gotta hear those soft sloane hcs my good friend (if you want to!!)"
Listen I'm convinced Sloane is a massive softie despite her best efforts and I am always keen to expose her for that.
-what they smell like: Dusty leather, mostly. Pre-canon, you'll occasionally get the scent of hot street food mixed in with that, too--she's sometimes-broke and not one to cook for herself much and likes to patronize independent vendors.
-what their favorite smells in the world are: The smell of night, you know what I mean? The smell of when you get far enough outside a populated area at night and the air is so clean that you smell things in it you never noticed before. She takes a lot of drives into the deep desert, is what I'm saying. (She used to really enjoy floral scents, too, but they became pretty ubiquitous after she became a dryad.)
-what pajamas they wear/what they wear to sleep in: T-shirt and shorts, honestly. Nothing too complicated.
-my favorite ship (if applicable) and a cute headcanon about them: So like I think entirely too much about elves and half-elves doing that soft-blink thing that cats do when they're happy. Sloane isn't especially demonstrative most of the time, so she really only does this when she forgets herself, and of course only around Hurley. The first time Hurley sees this is one time when they fell asleep around dawn after pulling an all-nighter in the garage. They woke up facing each other on the shitty mattress on the floor they brought in just for such occasions, and the very first thing Sloane, still groggy, did after opening her eyes is look right at Hurley and just gaze for a minute before giving her that slow blink and a little smile. Hurley just about died on the spot, and, because I imagine that at this point they were in a weird in-between "so are we actually dating or nah?" phase in their relationship, she had to physically restrain herself from just making out with Sloane then and there.
-my favorite friendship (if applicable) and a cute headcanon about them: I'm aware that it's got basically no basis in canon but I desperately need Angus to be Sloane's unofficial adopted nephew. I'm confident that Angus researched the Raven on his own time (more out of his own curiosity than his aiming to catch her, since his priority is hunting dangerous people). So when they meet post-canon, he, starry-eyed, is able to rattle off a bunch of facts about her exploits than not even the newspapers reported. She's equal parts jarred and kind of flattered, and Sloane (along with Hurley) likes kids anyway, especially very smart kids who are interested in learning to build things. He ends up liking to spend time around the garage and the track. Sloane makes him his own racing mask.
-a song that reminds me of them: "Sky Full Of Song" by Florence + the Machine has already been brought up on this blog before, but it bears repeating. Also "Racing In The Street" by Bruce Springsteen, for obvious reasons.
-what animal I think they would be if they were an animal: I mean, obviously she believes she'd be a raven, and I think that's pretty accurate, but I also like associating her with another common urban "pest," the coyote. Adaptable, reclusive thieves who are sometimes solitary but also sometimes found in very tight-knit pairs or families...
-what position they sleep in: She sprawls all over the bed in her sleep and often doesn't leave enough room for poor Hurley, although she doesn't mean to. She's also a somewhat deep sleeper, so when Hurley tries to shove her out of the way in bed, she'll often only sigh in her sleep and slightly shift position and squeeze Hurley right up against her like a teddy bear. Not that Hurley minds the last part so much.
-their favorite drink: Whisky, babey!!! She's a gal with simple needs.
-a gift I would give them if I could: Just. A really good blanket tbh. She's cuddly. I feel it in my bones. Thank you for this I love her.
#sloane#hurley#hurloane#taz balance#taz#the adventure zone#the zone cast#taz sloane#taz hurley#anonymous#ask meme#thegempage#headcanons#moine#angus#taz angus#angus mcdonald
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THE SUMMER NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.
for @historyofnarnia by @lovelybabyrose.
The Giants of the North came under the White Witch’s rule three hundred years before she felled the Tree of Protection and came into Narnia. It was there she had made Goma son of Boulder King over the Giant Lands under her empire. It was their army that Jadis took to bend Narnia to her knee. It was the giants and their king who promised to avenge their Empress when Narnia was un-conquered and free once more.
But Jadis is long gone, and Peter must pick up the pieces.
High King Peter, Sir Wolfsbane of the Most Noble Order returned to the Northern border after two summers and two winters in Narnia. With Moss the son of Goma he had made peace with after almost nine years of war. But King Moss was surrounded by his father’s advisors, who wished to reclaim the lands of Narnia, and several months into their treaty were heard stirrings and murmurs of the Giant King changing his mind. And after the King Moss issued his challenge again in the autumn of 1012, Peter bade goodbye to his brother and sisters and rode hard for Ettinsmoor, with an army of Men and Beasts.
There had been a great tournament during High Spring, Peter remembers as he walks through the camp. Not long ago. He had visited Cair Paravel to visit his family for a short time, and to take part in the spring festivals. And the ambassadors from Calormen had come. Prince Rabadash had joined them in the festivities, won many jousts and joined Peter’s side in the melee, and asked Susan for her hand at the end. That had been almost two months earlier. It feels to Peter as if that were such a long time ago when he was on the jousting fields, celebrating beside his brother and sisters and all of Narnia.
Summer is soon to come – things are moving slowly, but surely still. Plans of a treatise, plans of a meeting with the Giant King Moss, plans of more battles to come. Busy, busy, busy.
And Peter doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what will come. Between his work, when he grabs coffee and a hot breakfast after training early in the morning, he looks out at the endless fields of green and gold. Like the sea back at home, at Cair Paravel. From his tent in the day, surrounded by letters and maps, he looks to the mountains as if they would have answers.
Craggy mountains split the sky, capped with snow and ice, adorned with smoke and clouds and stars. Sometimes he would catch the sight of giants walking among them, climbing their passes.
Whenever he’s come to the Northern March, the mountains took his breath away. That feeling never changed.
But there is much to be done. After breakfast he meets with his generals and the marshals, surveying their positions and making plans for the months to come. At half past noon he rides down to the border with the Urien the Centaur, to greet the reinforcements being led by the hamadryad-general Gaiana and her army gathered from Lantern Waste.
It’s a clear blue sky, no clouds at all, and wonderfully crisp and cold. A strong wind blows. Peter stands at the before the camp with General Alba Nona, discussing Giantish troops in the northeast with the Tigress and their movements since his visiting Narnia, and the summer festivities that were soon to come – whether these would stall King Moss’s plans of war.
He runs a hand through his hair, catching the golden band. Rhindon sheathed at his side, blue woolen cape flapping in the wind. “Ah, here they come,” Peter says suddenly, a smile breaking on his face.
As the troops march toward them, he hears the drums and the singing, Fauns and Trees and Beasts alike. Peter can’t help but grin as he watches them march in, and when he sees the banner they march under – a deep cobalt blue, with the lion and the dagger and the healing hand – and when he spots the figure of the one leading the troops, sitting atop one of the Elephants, he’s already running to greet her, smiling so much that it hurt.
“Lucy!” he shouts.
“Peter!” Lucy shouts back. She’s clad in mail with her helmet in her hands, dagger at her hip. A silk scarf, strawberry-red, was wound about her neck (a gift from Susan, Peter thinks, from many winters ago), her cordial shining bright underneath. She’s golden brown from a Narnian summer, curls sticking to her face and trailing in the wind, and he’s half sure she’s grown taller, too.
She slipped off the Elephant’s side and into his arms. He hugs her close. “I can’t believe you’re here!” Peter cried. “What news of our brother and sister in Calormen?”
Lucy laughed at him, the sound muffled into his hair. “Nothing new,” she replied when she finally pulled back, scrunching her nose at him. “The long, long overtures of courtship continue. And besides, don’t you get their letters?”
Peter only laughed in surprise, pulling his sister close again. It doesn’t quite feel real, the sun shining softly on them and the laughing and the chatter exploding around them. The dryads of the Fir and the Pine and the Dogwood trees rustled around them as they moved and spoke, greeting the camp. “I missed you,” he said at last.
“I know you did.” Lucy smiled at him. “Did you think I’d forget you, up here in these mountains? Cair Paravel is far less exciting, without all of you at home.”
Peter shook his head and laughed again. The Tigress padded towards them, and Lucy moved to greet her, and Peter finds Gaiana and her officers welcomed them in turn.
It isn’t until they are walking to his tent when they come together again. Lucy takes his hand. “I have seven days with thee,” she said. “Susan ordered me to see that you were fed and watered, and sleeping the most regular hours before I returned to Cair Paravel.”
“I am,Lu.”
“No, you are not.” Lucy tugged at her scarf and sighed. “You must rest. When I met your messengers at the Cair, they told me you have been doing much since you arrived in the winter. Besides, now you have a reason to slack.”
“Which is?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Me, of course.” She stopped and grinned at Peter, eyes dancing. “You must entertain thy guest.” Lucy looked up to admire the mountains before them, towering over the encampments. “It’s good to be at the border again. The mountains are wonderfully tall. Perhaps we can have something like a camping trip, brother.”
“I can’t do a camping trip, Lu. I have to go to battle with the giants.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “You are far too sensible for thine own good.”
Peter turned to his general helplessly. She inclined her head. “There is still yet time,” said the Tigress. “The scouts have not returned and they shall not return till tomorrow, the satyrs maybe not even the day after.”
“And yet, it would be good to acquaint the new troops with the camp.”
The general frowned at him. “Which I am happy to do on my own, Your Majesty. I agree with the Queen Lucy; a week’s rest is timely, my lord.”
Lucy grinned. He missed seeing her smile, Peter thinks. “General, what say you of our High King’s work since his return to Ettinsmoor? Speak plainly.”
“His Majesty,” the Tigress said carefully, “has been of great service to the border.“ She glanced at Peter. "But he has tried to do everyone’s work for himself the moment he stepped into the camps.”
Peter bowed. “My good general, I apologize that I caused you and your officers offense. I did not intend to take away from you a job.” Alba inclined her head again, and padded away to address the troops.
Peter turned back to his sister. “What sort of camping trip did you imagine, sister?”
“Three days and two nights along the River Shribble,” she replied. “We can fish there, for the evening meals. And we might catch sight of the White Stag – it has been said that they have been sighted in these lands.”
Peter hesitates. There is still so much to be done, even with Alba Nona’s intervention – more camps and forts along the border to visit, more councils in the night to convene, more provisions to check and double check. He thinks of King Lune’s letter waiting at his desk in the tent.
He glances up at the mountains again. They can wait, he decides. There will be time.
Peter takes Lucy’s hand again. “The River Shribble it is.”
______________________
notes:
hi hello, charl! here’s a small gift from me to you. i discovered your headcanons about peter while brainstorming this gift, and i liked them immensely! i tried to write something i hoped you would enjoy – peter during the ettins war, without sadness, for a moment. i hope you had a lovely summer, as peter and lucy did.
#tcon#narnia#peter pevensie#lucy pevensie#for historyofnarnia#by lovelybabyrose#type: fanfiction#summerexchange: 1#narnia gift exchange
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Facts about Dryads, AT theory
So since we never really found out what Huntress Wizard was, I headcanon her as being half Dryad and half elf. In this post, I’ll have a list of small facts about the Dryads of my section of the AT world.
- The first Dryads were human women survivors of the Mushroom war, mostly nuns and nurses from a nearby church hospital, who fled into the forests outside of the city. However, since they had already been exposed to the vast amount of strange magic and chemical radiation from the bombs, their bodies began to devolve and absorbing the tree DNA around them. Eventually these women began to turn into trees themselves, and once they became rooted to the ground, they found they could create a physical projection of themselves, and these projections became the first Dryads.
- Dryads are also sometimes known as wood-nymphs, naiads, tree-fae, or, in more rural areas of Ooo, “eerie wives.”
- Dryads can not stray too far away from their trees. They call this a ‘tree-link’, and depending on how old the dryad is determines how far they can go from their tree link. Newly sprouted dryads cannot leave more than a few feet, while a 500 year old dryad can have about a 1 mile radius from their tree link without tiring. Should they venture out of the radius, they will start getting weaker until they evenutally die.
- Dryads can live as long as their tree stays alive. Their bodies can even be completely disentigrated and they will respawn back to their tree link.
- Dryads are different from other plant elementals in that they are really just a projection of the tree, while most other tree or plant based people do not have an external link that keeps them alive.
- Dryads can reproduce other dryads asexually by planting seeds from their tree link, or by cross-pollinating with another dryad’s tree to create a hybrid seed.
- While Dryads are a mono-sex race, a lot of dryads choose she/her pronouns due to their physical characteristics and their ability to live birth half-dryads with males of other species.
- Dryads are usually seen as monsters, as they tend to be hostile and even canibalistic towards non-dryads. Because of this, half-dryads are rare.
- Most dryads live in covens or small tribes, as a lot of them are planted close to each other.
Facts about Half Dryads
- Half Dryads are the occasional result of when a dryad mates with a male of a different humanoid species. Most half-dryads have elven or satyr fathers.
- Unlike their mothers, they are not born with a tree link. Instead, they have an organ called a “heart root.” The half-dryad can stay alive and are essentially immortal and heal from any wound unless someone removes and destroys their heart root.
- With magic, the heart-root can be removed, but the half-dryad must still be close to it in order to live, much like how the full-dryads must stay within proximity to their tree link.
- Half-dryads have strong wooden bones, but are smooth and do not splinter unless broken, much like furnished wood does. Their teeth, for some reason, are not wood, but bone or whatever their father’s teeth are made from.
- Half-dryads also have a strange hybridization of blood, with it appearing as tree sap in color and taste, but has the texture and consistency of regular animal blood.
- Most half-dryads try to culturally distance themselves from their matriarchal roots due to dryads being seen as monsters. Once they are of age, a lot of them leave the forest, or at least leave the dryad coven.
#secrets of the hunt (headcanon)#Secrets of the hunt (headcanons)#i wrote this instead of my drafts lmao
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SITRI BACKSTORY UPDATE
This is just the stream of consciousness I’ve had today about Sitri’s backstory. If anyone reads this, most of it probably won’t make sense lol
Instead of living in the Dream Grove, Sitri lives in the Mid-Summer Court (also in the Shroudwood).
Her paternal mother died in child birth, and she was adopted by the court Cocotte. They have a loving relationship, though her mom works a lot. Also, the court took Sitri in with the intent of making her a courtesan (which is why she’s being raised by the Cocotte).
Because she’s part Tiefling (Look- I have a different lore/Headcanon for Tieflings- they can be mixed race) she’s considered “exotic,” or a “curiosity,” in the Faewyld.
Had extensive training in dance, and vocals
No formal education, but she had access to a large library. She loves to read
She has what I’m calling a fabrial right now (because Stormlight archive is fused with my brain right now- needs a different name especially because Volo is gonna call her The Lightweaver for her “naming”) Basically, it’s inspired by the soul-castors but it’s a device that extracts and stores memories into locket rings. This is a device used/owned by Highfae. Sitri has one because her paternal mother was an Highfae who left Sitri her fabrial.
She spent a lot of time with a Clurichaun named Vorlen
He’s a monk of the drunken master, and I don’t know what his role in the court is. A Jester comes to mind, but that doesn’t feel quite right.
She’s not a monk, but she has high dex and her fighting style mimics the movements of this type of Monk.
Sitri and Oberron are good (best?) friends.
Oberron is Fathagn’s adopted son. He is either a human with gold hair and eyes OR a half-drow with white hair and green eyes.
Fathaghn is the Dryad Queen
Oberron is probably the person she sees in the dreams
They essentially grew up together/got into mischief together
I think they had a thing, but Oberron is like “You can only be a side piece not my actual partner because you’re growing up to be a court prostitute.”
Yeah fuck him, right?
Originally, Sitri was supposed to have a run in with “The Storyteller,” a traveling seer in the Faewyld when she was young. She was basically told that she carries the blood of a monster or something like that.
I still like this idea, but wondering if I should keep it
This makes her dislike divination (specifically fortune/future telling)
Probs accidentally cast Speak with Dead as a kid and oof that doesn’t help with the above scenario. Also celestial magic isn’t really a thing in the Faewyld, so her divine magic (Light Cleric with no Deity woot) is extra weird.
Sitri finds an astral pool to the prime material realm and she stays in Baldur’s Gate for their “Summer,” (maybe they’re Spring too). This is right before the Nautiloid attack.
Still deciding the exact location of the astral pool
#bg3 oc#sitri#headcanon#fic#tiefling#mutuals what do you think of these ideas?#God I need to talk about creating a character with someone.
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