#some abilities based on the night hag

[eldritchborn]

Acid bites you acid bites you acid bites you acid bi- “&– - .....oops wrong potion sorry about that.”

#THE EMISSARY OF KNOWLEDGE. crack #( based on what happened last night where she drank the potion of madness the hag has #and kept using the acid bite ability on my mod pack plus some illithid and warlock powers godjfjfb ) #( to kill her teammates godjg )

[thecreaturecodex]

Auntie Splitfoot

“witch” © Vladimir Matyukhin, accessed at his ArtStation here

[It will probably surprise none of you that I am a big fan of hags as villains, having written multiple original species of them. Despite this, every time I’ve used a hag in my games, it’s been as a one-and-done thing rather than as a recurring villain. Auntie Splitfoot is my attempt to rectify this situation with a character who both has reasons to let PCs live if they cross paths early in an adventuring career, and who can escape a losing fight by going ethereal.]

Auntie Splitfoot CR 11 NE Aberration This woman has greenish-gray skin and a leering expression. Her hands are claws and her mouth is oversized and filled with sharp teeth. Saw-toothed fronds like the leaves of a plant grow from her scalp instead of hair, and below the waist she has a mass of ribbon-shaped tentacles instead of legs.

Auntie Splitfoot is a dealer in the soul trade, and she values her ability to work with a wide variety of customers and to broker deals between them. She trades equally with all manner of evil outsiders, and even has some qlippoth clientele. The qlippoths typically just want to destroy the souls she sells them, but that doesn’t matter to her. She recently upgraded her own body, allowing herself to be mutated as payment from Doctor Agatha Shiny. Auntie Splitfoot’s sobriquet used to refer to her hoofed feet, and she is delighted that the mutagens used appropriately shredded her legs into tentacles.

Auntie Splitfoot carries a bow to deal with the odd golem and to torment foes from afar, but she much prefers to get close to combat and fight with her teeth and claws. She is remarkably durable, and if she is injured, will typically shift herself into the Ethereal Plane for a few rounds to heal up before resuming battle. Although she is sadistic, she is pragmatic first and foremost, and would rather flee a losing fight, or pay a token bribe, then fight to the death. Anyone who fights Auntie Splitfoot and lets her live, however, will likely deal with nightmares and other retribution as punishment for their victory.

The reason Splitfoot goes by “Auntie” has to do with her primary hobby. She is a facilitator of changelings and hags, often appearing in mortal guise to befriend changelings and slowly gaslight them into accepting their haggish nature. Although she may reunite changelings with their hag mothers, she is just as willing to unite unrelated hags. Auntie Splitfoot has joined several covens as a part time member, especially in order to help them recruit changelings, before moving on. Auntie Splitfoot often kills changelings who refuse to embrace their haggish nature, and their souls make up a significant minority of the ones she sells to the Lower Planes.

Auntie Splitfoot            CR 11 XP 12,800 Advanced mutant night hag NE Medium aberration (augmented outsider, evil, extraplanar) Init +5; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +17 Defense AC 32, touch 15, flat-footed 27 (+5 Dex, +13 natural, +4 armor) hp 122 (8d10+80); fast healing 5 Fort +18, Ref +9, Will +12 DR 10/cold iron and magic; Immune charm, cold, fear, fire, sleep; SR 26 Offense Speed 20 ft., fly 30 ft. (good maneuverability) Melee 2 claws +17 (1d4+9), bite +17 (3d6+9 plus disease) Ranged +1 adaptive composite longbow +14/+9 (1d8+10/x3) Special Attacks dream haunting Spell-Like Abilities CL 8th, concentration +13 Constant—detect chaos, detect evil, detect good, detect law, detect magic At will—deep slumber (DC 18), invisibility, magic missile, mirror image, ray of enfeeblement (DC 16) At will (with heartstone)—etherealness, soul bind Statistics Str 29, Dex 21, Con 30, Int 22, Wis 18, Cha 21 Base Atk +8; CMB +17; CMD 32 Feats Alertness, Deceitful, Improved Natural Weapon (bite), Power Attack Skills Appraise +14, Bluff +18, Diplomacy +13, Disguise +18, Fly +17, Intimidate +16, Knowledge (arcana) +14, Knowledge (planes) +17, Perception +17, Sense Motive +17, Spellcraft +17, Use Magic Device +13 Languages Abyssal, Aklo, Celestial, Common, Daemonic, Infernal Gear +1 adaptive composite longbow, 20 adamantine arrows, 40 arrows, handy haversack, heartstone, 298 gp SQ change shape (any humanoid, alter self), deformities (lame, misshapen), heartstone, mutations (fast healing, flight, mental armor, spell-like ability) Special Abilities Disease (Su) Demon Fever: Bite—injury; save Fort DC 24; onset immediate; frequency 1/day; effect 1d6 Con damage (target must save a 2nd time or 1 point of the damage is drain instead); cure 2 consecutive saves. The save DC is Constitution-based. Dream Haunting (Su) A night hag can visit the dreams of chaotic or evil targets by using a special periapt known as a heartstone to become ethereal, then hovering over the creature. Once it does so, it rides on the victim's back until dawn. The sleeper suffers tormenting dreams and takes 1 point of Constitution drain upon awakening. Only another ethereal being can stop these nocturnal intrusions by confronting and defeating the night hag. Heartstone (Su) All night hags carry a heartstone—a special gemstone worth at least 1,800 gp that is worn as a periapt. A heartstone's magic is fueled by the hag's spirit and proximity—once separated from its owner (or upon the hag's death), a heartstone retains its magic for only 24 hours before becoming a nonmagical gem again. The heartstone instantly cures any disease contracted by the holder. In addition, a heartstone provides a +2 resistance bonus on all saving throws (this bonus is included in the statistics block above). A night hag that loses this charm can no longer use etherealness or soul bind until it finds a replacement gemstone.

#auntie splitfoot #night hag #hag #monster girl summer #age of monsters #age of monsters spoilers #pathfinder 1e #mutant

[dxnse-macabre]

i think that if astarion were given the ability to dress himself in the game (instead of the player doing it. dont get me wrong i LOVE being able to dress him) his clothing would change based on how comfortable he feels with the party/what hes trying to do with tav

like, in the beginning when we first meet him, he has this embellished purple light armor-- makes him look like a nobleman, which is what he tries to initially convince us to believe, and even back at camp his clothes are comfy yet still distinguished; he clearly wants us to think highly of him, but not see him as eye candy (not yet, at least)

middle of act one hits. at least, after some big stuff that displays your power: astarion sees how you handle the hag, how well you fight off the goblins to protect the tieflings, killing the spider boss, etc. ... he's like. oh shit. this is someone i need to get close with to be protected. he's wearing tops that are generally more revealing, low cut, not afraid to show some skin during battle (BUT PURPOSEFULLY NOT SHOWING HIS BACK) maybe he's wearing short capes (or just capes in general) no matter how impractical they may be in battle. and,,,, most of all,,,,, this is when his fighting style appears most flexible, more flashy, but not fluid-- kind of like he's never had to woo someone by his fighting style before. its more of saying to tav, look at me. im who you want to pay attention to. not these other freaks in our party.

then the goblin party happens where you kill the goblins. you two spend a night together, you see his scars in full glory. he explains them. then afterwards? he's back to covering himself up---almost like he's ashamed to talk about it, that its just a dirty little secret between the two of you. he goes back to embellishments as well, but it isnt as... vibrant as when you first meet him.

this is just something ive been cooking in my brain so forgive the word vomit but i also love me some fashion theory

#character study // dxnse macabre.

[pokckygamewithbatman]

I watched Swan Princess and Sleeping Beauty (SP for first time)

I just watched the Swan Princess and Derek didn't learn shit idk why they were tryna gaslight me into thinking he had some character development, he never saw Odette display courage or kindness, and he wasn't able to tell her from the old disguised hag. There should've been a few scenes where like, Odette's in his kingdom and helping peasants or servants or playing with animals or some crap, and he just thinks she's pretty, AND THEN WHEN THE HAG IS PRESENTED HE DOES MORE THAN SUSPECT THAT SHE'S A LITTLE DIFFERENT please Derek I want you to be cool, your archer abilities are awesome man the hag should've been a little more obviously not her, tripping, or being rude, or something and then Derek is at least hesitant but she's insistent and then he professes his undying love. Also I mean, I dunno how archers act but he had an arrow in his bow whilst running after Swandette and it just looked dumb. Seems like the arrow should be in the quiver and then he takes it out quick and shoots bc skill. That've been better dans mon opinion. Should've had more scenes when they're kids and teens too, to yk, show she's a great person but he only sees her for her beauty ALSO PUBERTY CAN'T HIT SO HARD IN LESS THAN A YEAR AND HE NEEDS A HAIRCUT and his friend was shown with qualities of an asshole but it never comes to roost that he's like, aligned with the villain or anything he's just an asshole. Also she had a strong girl power moment rejecting his proposal when he stupidly said he only loves her beauty BUT THEN FOR THE WHOLE REST OF THE MOVIE SHE'S A TEXTBOOK DAMSEL IN DISTRESS AND LIKE, FORGETS HE'S A JERK WHO ONLY WANTED TO MARRY HER FOR HER FACE??????. Grow a brain please Odette you don't have the same excuse as Aurora. It's widely accepted that Merryweather was supposed to give her intelligence. The necklace should've had more significance Derek as a toddler to Odette as a baby, and THEN SHE SHOULD TWIDDLE AND PLAY WITH IT and THEN when he goes to shoot her down gasp (that ish surprised me Derek you almost killed your wife like 5 times in 10mins) and sees her transform and they have their little pow wow THEN she gives the necklace back to him in hopes that he will like, give it to her later that night at the dang ball AND THEN WHEN THE HAG IS THERE HE JUST CAN'T GIVE IT TO HER something isn't right he just doesn't feel it belongs to "Odette" for reasons yk. I do think she should've been able to get into the castle as a swan though, it's a bit dumb that she just has to watch at the window. Overall enjoyed the movie, Philip keeps his place as best prince still but yk, Derek…. had no character development sorry bud.

"Now you shall deal with me, o prince, and all the powers of Hell!" is such a raw line dude, it makes turns Maleficent from bad bitch girlboss to mommy step on me. I'm also a huge slut for Tchaikovsky so yk, a movie that uses his orchestral work as a base is just gorgeous

[imaginedisish]

One of These Nights (Loki x Reader)

A/N: THE LENGTHS I WENT THROUGH TO GET THIS UP TONIGHT AHHHH!!! It was stressful, but we’re here hehehe! Hi guys! So here is my first Marvel/Loki fanfic! This is my first Marvel fic ever, and I can’t wait to write more. I’m still in the process of genuinely getting through all the movies, sooooo be patient with me lol. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! This fic is based off of a request!! And it was an awesome request so ahhh just enjoy! (ps, the song this title comes from is One of These Nights by the Eagles :)))

Summary: It’s just another one of Tony’s parties, that is, until a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven begins, and you’re paired with Loki...

Warnings: Some cursing, angst, but ummmm SMUT. Some dom!loki, and most likely a good deal of errors as it’s literally 4:20am rn. Potential part 2 action here...

Word Count: 4,348

Stark’s parties were always…interesting at best, and absolutely discordant and chaotic at worst. It wasn’t that you dreaded them or anything like that; this was your chosen family, after all. But, sometimes, a few drinks could roughen things up a bit. And, right now, that was the exact case. For some reason, the group decided to play Never-Have-I-Ever, which you could tell was going to lead to quite the altercation between Steve and Loki. 

“You’ve never been in love?” Steve cackles across the room. 

A begrudged, un-drunken Loki squints incredulously at Steve. “No, can’t say I have.” His blue eyes blink nonchalantly. He clearly isn’t taking any bullshit this evening, You think to yourself. You can tell by the full, two hour old glass of whiskey resting within Loki’s grasp that he isn’t exactly in the happiest mood. 

Steve scoffs as he processes Loki’s response. “Yeah right. You just don’t want to lose the game by admitting you’ve been in love,” He retorts back. The tension in the room is palpable, tangible even. It’s impossible for this to end well. No one should have ever allowed Loki and Steve to have a conversation about love, or any competitive conversation for that matter. 

The God of Mischief shakes his head in contempt, holding his left hand up, with one single finger left to be put down. Loki rolls his eyes. “I mean it. Only fools fall in love.” Your heart can’t help but sink to the bottom of your chest as the words fall from Loki’s lips. You couldn’t deny your feelings for Loki. 

The two of you had grown quite close over the past few months. You were new to the Avengers, which meant your lack of control over your powers was quite dangerous. And yet, despite the father figure Tony had become to you, and the friends the others had been, Loki had been by your side more than anyone else. No one could fully comprehend your ability to control the elements, or where your powers came from, but Loki was the one who always made you feel understood and heard. You felt close to him, and you could swear that he felt close to you. You were cut from the same cloth. You were the black sheep, the “other”. 

“Well,” Steve starts, snapping you out of your train of thought and back to reality. “I suppose only a fool could fall in love with Loki anyway, so it would make sense if he isn’t lying after all.” 

Loki chuckles mischievously. “At least I’m not hung up on some 90 year old hag I’ll never be able to be with.”

His words aren’t even given the chance to fully find their way to your ears before Steve launches across the room, shoving Loki into the wall. There’s a loud bang and an even louder crash. Panic grows in your stomach. You look over to Thor, expecting him to be doing something, but he sits back in his seat and laughs. 

A rush of energy runs down your spine and you stand up. You feel a jolt burst in the palm of your hands. Your eyes twitch as a strange sort of electric zapping hums around and within them. You know it’s your powers, but it’s not anything you’ve ever felt before.

Steve drops his fist from next to Loki’s face back down to his side and turns to stare up at you. Loki gazes at you as well, his eyes moving up and down your body. It takes you a moment to realize that Loki and Steve aren’t the only ones staring, everyone is.

There’s a clear and distinct fear in Tony’s face. Thor is no longer sitting, and he’s definitely not laughing anymore. His brows are completely furrowed, tightly knit together. Natasha appears to be reaching for whatever weapon she’s keeping around her waist tonight. Bruce seems to be turning green. But they refuse to turn towards Loki and Steve. Their eyes remain locked on you. And that’s when it becomes clear that the family you had grown to love and trust weren’t reacting to the situation. 

They were reacting to you. 

You’re confused. Sure, maybe this triggered your powers, but two people you care for deeply trying to kill each other is the very thing that should trigger a rush like this. 

Tony breaks the silence and coughs as he nods his head towards you. That’s when you finally look down at your hands. You weren’t just reacting to the skirmish in an attempt to get both Loki and Steve to stop fighting.

You’re aiming directly for Steve.

Dark black clouds filled with powerful bolts of lightening dance in the palms of your hands. The gold stripes of electricity leap dangerously between your finger tips. It takes you a second to ease up. The clouds and lightening continue even as you slowly rest your hands at your side. Natasha and Bruce pull themselves back, relaxing into their previously spots. Steve leaves Loki up against the wall and walks awkwardly back to his seat.

You swallow nervously as your eyes lock with Loki’s. He isn’t scared like the others. He’s stunned, and to be quite honest, you were too. More than that, he seems concerned, and not for himself or for Steve, but instead for you. There’s a softness in his face, a kindness, wondering if you’re alright. There’s even a hint of guilt, as if he, the God of Mischief and Lies himself holds himself accountable for causing you to act this way. 

You break away from Loki to see that everyone’s eyes are still locked on you. You look back down to your hands and breathe a sigh of relief as you notice that the lightening is gone. 

You shake your head, disappointed in the fact that you had terrified the team, your family, with your lack of control. “I-I’m so s-sorry,” You stutter, your breathing speeding up. You can feel the walls starting to close in on you. What if I’ve fucked everything up, You think to yourself. “The whole thing just freaked me out I guess. I would never hurt you Ste-,” 

Steve immediately cuts you off. “I know, (Y/N), it’s alright. That wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have escalated things.” His voice is compassionate and kind. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I’m sorry we scared you like that.” 

Tony smiles lightly as he waves his whiskey in the air. “Then it’s settled, everyone just needs calm down.” He pauses to take a large swig from his glass. “Reindeer Games and the old man are fine, and so is (Y/N),” Tony was always somehow able to bring the light back into a room, no matter the situation. “We’re supposed to be celebrating here, no?” And just like that, the room was a lively party yet again. 

The music in the background grows louder as the conversations flow back to normalcy. A familiar baseline swells the room.

One of these nights

One of these crazy old nights

We're gonna find out pretty mama

What turns on your lights

One of These Nights by the Eagles blares over the speakers. Loki grabs a new glass of whiskey, and walks across the room to stand by your side. “I’m sorry,” He whispers only so that you can hear. “I shouldn’t have said what I said to him…” Loki trails off. You can hear the pain in his voice. It’s not hard to understand how much this is bugging him. He takes a swig of his whiskey, and then finishes the entire thing. 

“It’s fine Loki, really,” You smile at him, and he smiles back. His blue eyes stay fixated on yours for longer than he usually lets them. 

He’s visibly nervous, something you rarely see. “You were going to…” Loki, the charmer of the century, Silver Tongue himself, is struggling to get his words out.  “Well, protect m-,”

But before he can finish his thought, Thor’s voice booms across the room. “It’s time for a game!” Loki rolls his eyes at his brother, but the rest of the relatively drunken room seems to be very on board with the idea. 

“Any suggestions?” Nat yells back, rolling her eyes over the sudden interruption of her conversation with Clint.

“Seven minutes in heaven!” Tony yells, drunk as ever. 

“Tony, you gotta be kidding me with that one,” Bruce says in disbelief, shaking his head in sarcastic disappointment. 

Loki furrows his brows. “What’s that?” He leans over and asks you, whispering ever so lightly against the crook of your neck as he wraps his arm around your waist. The combination of his breath and touch sends shivers down your spine.

You can’t help but giggle in response. “It’s a stupid game people usually play as teenagers here on Earth,” You whisper back to him. 

“Oh, so it’s harmless then. Nothing I can’t handle,” He says back to you, his voice louder and more confident. 

You shake your head and bring your lips back towards his ear. “It’s a little more…” You trail off, searching for the right words, “Suggestive, then that, if you know what I mean.” You say, heat rising to your cheeks as Loki’s eyes widen. You can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about. You continue on regardless, “Two people go-,” 

“Reindeer games and (Y/N)!” Tony chimes out, prohibiting you from finishing your explanation to Loki. 

“What, Stark?” Loki groans in annoyance. 

Tony chuckles. “You’re up first.”

Your head turns up meet Loki’s stare, but it isn’t there. His eyes are glued on Tony, as if there’s some unspoken truth that they’re communicating to each other completely separate from you.

You tug on Loki’s black dress shirt, and he breaks away from Tony to look down at you. “We don’t have to play. You can say no,” You reassure him, as a soft, kind, welcoming smile spreads across your face. As much as you wanted to be in that situation with Loki, you knew that there was a very big chance that he wouldn’t want to be in that situation with you. 

After all, “Only fools fall in love.”

“Oh come on, brother, play the game!” Thor calls from the other side of the room. “That’s all it is, of course. Just a game!”

Loki shakes his head. “I don’t play mortal games,” He mumbles under his breath. 

Thor chuckles heartily. “What’s that? You’re afraid of mortal games?”

“That’s what I heard,” Tony interjects sardonically. 

“It’ll be fun, just play. Or are you too scared?” Thor jests, but it doesn’t sit well with Loki. Your heart is beating out of your chest at the idea that he would actually go through with the game. What would that mean, for us? You think to yourself.  

The music continues to blast despite the silence between you and Loki. 

Ooh, someone to be kind to in between the dark and the light

Ooh, coming right behind you, swear I'm gonna find you

One of these nights

Loki abruptly disturbs the silence, taking your hand in his and pulling you off the couch. “I’m scared of nothing. I’m the God of Mischief, how can anything scare me?” There’s an intense edge in his voice, as if he has something to prove. “So fine, I’ll play.” He says finally. “Now where do we go?” His voice is forceful as he pulls you behind him. 

Tony points to a door down a nearby hallway. Loki nods and starts walking towards the door, still pulling you behind him.

“I’ll start the timer once you two kids close the door,” Tony says nonchalantly, as if this was his plan all along, as if this was something that was meant to be this whole time. 

You and Loki make your way down the hallway, and finally approach the door. He reaches for the knob and twists it slowly. 

“Is this alright with you? Being alone in there with me?” He asks, suddenly much shyer than he was just seconds ago. 

You nod your head in response. “Why wouldn’t it be?” You ask, but Loki doesn’t respond.  He opens the door, stepping inside and pulling you in after him. You grab the door knob and shut it behind you.

“Timer starts now! Seven minutes!” Tony’s voice is muffled, but still somehow incredibly loud. 

“Are you alright?” You question. You can’t help but make sure Loki is okay. You know this is out of his comfort zone. Regardless of his cocky facade, this was not something he was used to. It wasn’t the intimacy of the moment that you figured was difficult for him, but instead the vulnerability. After 1,000 years of existence, there’s no way Loki hasn’t gotten around. 

But he most certainly hasn’t been told to go stand with one of his closest friends in a small, dark closet at one of Tony Stark’s parties before while playing what is essentially a sex game. 

“Of course. Are you?” He asks. He wasn’t like this with other people. He didn’t care about other people this way. You know this better than anyone else, and yet, you still refuse to believe that he could ever feel for you the way you feel for him. 

The music is still loud, even in the closet, even despite the silence that has fallen between you and Loki yet again. 

I've been searching for the daughter of the Devil himself

I've been searching for an angel in white

I've been waiting for a woman who's a little of both

And I can feel her but she's nowhere in sight

The closet is quite dark, but there’s a single chain connected to a single bulb hanging above your heads. Neither of you reach up to turn the light on. You figured Tony would invest in some sort of high tech lighting, even in his closets, but apparently not. 

After a few more seconds of silence, Loki finally speaks up. “So, what exactly are we supposed to do?” He questions. You remember how you never got to finish your explanation of the game.

“Well, for seven minutes,” You start, “We’re supposed to,” You pause, coughing to clear your throat. “Hook up,” You finally spit the words out. Heat finds itself rising to your cheeks. 

Silence, again. 

Loki reaches up and yanks on the chain, and the light flickers on. “There you are, darling.” He says, his voice is calming and soft. You didn’t realize how little space there was in the closet, and how close you and Loki were. There was no gap, no space in between the two of you. One more inch closer and his lips would be on yours. 

He brings his hand up to your cheek, and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. Your chest is up against his, and there’s nowhere else to go. 

Loki sighs, and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I suppose maybe I should use this time to, well, talk to you.” 

You smile shyly. “You can always talk to me, Loki. You know that.”

Loki shakes his head. “This is different, (Y/N).” His voice is tense now, as if his words are stuck in his throat, struggling to come out. He snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He had hugged you before. He had even held you before, after nightmares whilst on missions, when you couldn’t sleep because you didn’t want to face the nightmares in the first place. But this, this was different. 

He keeps you pressed up against his chest as one of his arms reaches up to play with the hair at the nape of your neck. 

“Is something wrong?” You ask, worried about what exactly is on his mind. 

Loki presses a kiss against the top of your head, something he only ever did with you in private. “No, nothing is wrong at all.” He states matter of factly. 

“So what is it?” You ask, growing more impatient with every second Loki withholds whatever it is that’s on his mind from you. He was affectionate, only with you, albeit, and this behavior in general wasn’t weird. It was only strange because of that fact that he was seemingly using it to bide time, to potentially get away without telling you what it was he was having such a hard time saying. 

Finally, he pulls you away from his chest. He runs a hand through his hair and looks down to the ground. “You’re rather alright, for a midguardian,” He says, finally meeting your gaze. 

“Is that so?” You respond back, the corners of your mouth twisting up. Feelings are impossible for Loki, and the fact that he was even attempting to put words to his feelings was more than enough for you. 

“Of course,” Loki says, stepping forward to close the gap between you two yet again. “You’re the only midguardian worth any of my time, you know.”

“R-really? Just me?” You ask, taken back by his statement. You know your bond with Loki is unlike any other he has here, or with anyone else at all, for that matter, but you figured he would at least form some sort of bond with the others. “Why just me?” 

Loki smiles softly. “I think you know why.”

Of course you knew what you wanted him to mean. You wanted this to be some sort of a confession, but you wanted a full one. You didn’t want any confusion. You wanted a clear cut answer. “Tell me why, please.”

But then, suddenly, his smile disappears. Shit, what did I do? You wonder, seemingly hitting a nerve with Loki.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” He says, moving to turn around. You grab his shoulder to stop him from stepping away from you. 

“No, please just stay. Let’s talk, like you said,” You’re practically begging at this point. You want nothing more than for him to stay, for him to tell you how he really feels. 

You watch as Loki swallows hard. It’s clear that this isn’t easy for him. “You’re worth so much more than all of them,” He says, motioning towards the door, towards the family you had come to love. “You’re different. You make me feel like I matter, like I’m not just some monster.”

“Loki, I-” But the words can’t come out. They’re stuck in the very back of your throat, along with your nerves.

Loki takes a step towards you, and brings his arms around your waist again. “I love you, (Y/N).” 

The words you had been waiting to hear for what felt like centuries had finally arrived. He had said it. Your heart pounds violently in your chest. 

This is it.

This is actually happening.

“I love you, Loki.”

He brings a hand up to your cheek, and pulls your face closer to his. His lips come crashing down unto yours, something you’ve wanted for gods know how long. The kiss is hungry and passionate, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It feels like a revelation, like this was something that was always meant to be, something that neither of you had a choice in. 

Loki pulls away, the two of you out of breath. The loss of his lips leaves yours cold in spite of his chilled skin. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Loki says, cupping your cheek with his hands and pulling you in for another kiss. You hum against his lips as the space between you somehow grows smaller and smaller, despite the fact that there’s virtually no space at all. You wrap your arms around his back in an attempt to get ever closer to him. Still, it’s not close enough. 

Loki’s lips trail down to the crook of your neck. He nips and bites at the exposed skin lightly, leaving kisses in his wake. His hand finds its way underneath your shirt, his nails lightly dragging across your back. A quiet moan escapes your mouth and Loki smiles against your neck. He pushes you back a bit farther until your back is up against the wall, his lips never leaving your skin. 

“Loki, please, I need you,” You beg. His lips disconnect from your neck and his gaze meets yours. He grabs your arms from his body and pins them above your head. 

“What exactly is it that you want, darling?” Loki asks, his voice thicker and raspier then it normally is. His hands are still wrapped around yours, holding you in place as he looks your body up and down. 

“T-touch me, anything, please,” You stutter, barely able to get the words out. Loki smirks as his knee presses in between your legs, spreading them a part. He takes his hands off of yours, moving down to toy with the bottom of your skirt. 

He slowly pulls the skirt up, his hand reaching underneath it and up your thigh. The feeling of his nails dragging up to the hem of your panties sends a chill down your spine. Loki tugs at your panties, toying with the idea of ripping them off. Instead, he moves his fingers down, tracing over your clit and your folds. 

“You’re soaked, darling, and I’ve barely even touched you yet,” Loki’s voice is commanding as he reaches back up to the hem of your panties before forcefully yanking them down your legs. He brings a hand to your clit and begins to slow draw circles against the bundle of nerves.

“More Loki, please,” You whimper. 

He smirks, his dark raven hair falling in front of his face. He removes his hand from your clit, leaving you feeling empty, wanting more. 

“Beg, and you’ll get what you want,” Loki demands, his fingers drawing circles on the inside of your thighs. 

“Please Loki, I need you, please,” You plead. There’s a darkness in Loki’s blue eyes as he pushes you even harder up against the wall. He presses his lips against yours, traveling down your jaw, to your neck, your collar bone, finally removing your top and throwing it on the floor in the process. 

“Tell me exactly what you want me to do, darling.” Loki commands. 

Your thoughts are hazy as Loki removes your bra, cupping your breasts, putting both nipples in between his fingers, playing with them softly. 

“Your tongue, please,” You finally manage. Loki chuckles as he slides down your body. He yanks your skirt down your legs, leaving you completely naked for him. 

“Beautiful, absolutely beautiful,” Loki says, his mouth suddenly taking in your clit, sucking lightly. You’re already close, despite him having just started. 

His tongue circles your clit and laps at your folds, taking you in. He hums against you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Suddenly, you feel two fingers push into your entrance. 

It’s already too much for you to take. The speed and length of his fingers were enough on their own. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what taking his cock would feel like. “What a good girl, taking my fingers and my mouth like this,” Loki says, and a loud moan escapes your lips. Loki chuckles against your clit, the vibrations pushing you closer to the edge.

His tongue swirls around your core as your knees begin to shake, and your hips buckle forward. Loki brings his hands up to your hips, forcefully holding you in place. “Stay still, (Y/N), alright?”

“Yes Loki,” You barely manage to get out.

“Good girl. You’re so sweet, darling. You taste so good, just for me,” Loki whispers. His words alone were orgasmic. 

His pace grows faster and faster, and you feel your walls starting to clench around his fingers. “L-Loki, I’m so close,” You sigh, your hips grinding against his touch. 

Loki sucks rougher around your core, sending you over the edge. “Come for me darling, now,” Loki demands, his fingers pumping in and out of you even faster than before. “Let go for me.”

“Fuck, Loki,” You moan loudly as you come undone around his fingers, seeing stars in the process. 

“That’s right, say my name darling,” He coos in your ear, as you moan his name, coming all around him. He laps at your folds, and pumps a few more times before removing his fingers, leaving you feeling extremely empty. 

He stands up, and wraps you in his arms. You feel weak, and yet you want more. 

“I’m not done with you yet, (Y/N),” Loki captures your lips in another kiss. It’s soft and languid, unlike the others. It’s a kiss not born out of any lust, but instead love. 

He takes his lips off of yours. “I was hoping that would be the case,” You sigh, breathless. 

You could swear you heard thumping, some weird nose from somewhere else. But you choose to ignore it. You don’t want this moment to be over. And yet, it was.

“HEY!” You hear from the other side of the door. 

There’s a loud, abrupt knock against the door. 

That’s when you remember where you are, and how exactly you got there. “Shit,” Loki mutters. 

“Your seven minutes are up! Let’s get the show on the road Reindeer Games!” Tony shouts from right outside the door. Loki helps you get dressed, and turns to you before heading back outside. 

“Meet me in my room in ten minutes, alright?”

“Alright,” You say back, nodding your head. 

Loki presses another kiss to your lips before twisting the doorknob. “I love you,” He says. 

“I love you too,” You say back as he opens the door. The fallout can wait until tomorrow, You think to yourself. What matters is that what happened did indeed happen. 

The God of Mischief was yours, and you were his. 

Ooh, loneliness will blind you in between the wrong and the right

Oh-whoa-oh

Ooh, coming right behind you, swear I'm gonna find you

One of these nights

Tags: @queen-of-mischief​

#loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki layfeyson x reader #loki laufeyson #loki smut #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x reader smut #loki x reader imagine #loki x reader fluff #loki fluff #loki x reader fanfiction #loki laufesyson #loki laufeyson fanfiction #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #smut

[ask-the-riders]

Demon species that exist in this multiverse's version of Hell

As I stated before, we might not get to see all of these types (we might get to meet a mime soon, but other than that, I'm not sure yet), but I figured this might be neat to share anyway :P

Glitch: The umbrella term which usually includes Pure Glitches, Lens Flares, and Clickbaits

Pure Glitch: Typically humanoid, but can come in any shape or size. Can be identified by the effect they have on technology, causing every device around them to glitch, freeze up, and/or short out. The hardest type to catch or document or catch on video. Can also unintentionally cause electrical fires. They crave violence and chaos, appearing to thrive off of it, and they almost always appear mentally unstable. A common, infamous trait is also their short temper, which seems to go hand in hand with their unpredictable mood swings

Lens Flare: Also typically humanoid, but like Pure Glitches, they can vary in appearance. Are also easy to identify by the effect they have on any and all nearby technology, although unlike Pure Glitches, they don’t cause devices to short out, and they don’t cause electrical fires. When a Lens Flare demon is present, a device’s audio quality drops and the colors on the screen appear to shift between different colors, most notably red, blue, pink, yellow, and green. They still have an underlying craving for violence and chaos, but they usually appear more collected and stoic. They also have short tempers and may lash out from time to time, but they’re somewhat easier to predict. Known to be manipulative and cunning, and will do just about anything to get what they want, regardless of the risk

Clickbait: Humanoid, but noticeably smaller; The shortest on record was only about 1’3, while the tallest was about 3’9. Their skin tones come in a variety of colors, although the most common ones are blue, green, and pink. They can only exist in the cyber world, infecting pop-up ads and clickbait on websites. When an ad or scam they’ve taken over has been clicked on and/or downloaded, they then travel into the device and make it their new host. Once they’ve taken control of their new host body, they prefer to stay as long as possible. If their host is damaged, they’re capable of repairing it, but they’ll die within minutes if they’re pulled out of it and into the physical world. They don’t crave violence as much as other types of demons, and instead, preoccupy themselves with simply trying to survive, due to being so weak. Their favorite kind of host bodies seem to be robots and animatronics. If a device is suspected to have a Clickbait demon living inside it, check the files for anything suspicious and then proceed to open up the device. If one is present, it’ll fall out once the device is opened. You may choose to move it to a new device if you wish to keep it around, but otherwise, leave them be. If provoked, they have the ability to pull someone into the cyber world with them (but only if the ad or scam they took over had been clicked on first)

Clown: Can appear humanoid or more like something from a horror movie, depending on how many lives they’ve taken and/or how many souls they’ve consumed. Some subtypes would include standard Circus/Carnival Clowns, Jesters, Mimes, and Harlequins. As children, they feed on only candy and sweets, and they crave sugar, but as they mature, they develop a taste for blood and human flesh, and it becomes their biggest source of nutrients. They appear unusually flexible, as if they have no bones, and their skin sometimes appears as though it’s made of plastic. They’re great at contorting themselves and doing anything based around gymnastics, acrobatics, and aerial arts. If their attire doesn’t give away their subtype, note their primary territory type, since Circus/Carnival Clowns prefer areas with tents and wagons and Mimes prefer alleyways and streets, while Jesters and Harlequins seem to gravitate more toward castles and historic locations. A common trait they share is giggling and laughing, even in completely inappropriate situations. Something to note: they are completely capable of detaching and reattaching their limbs, so it’s not uncommon to see them detaching their own heads to perform odd and potentially disturbing acts and stunts

Incubus/Succubus: Most often appears humanoid. They’re similar to a vampire, except they prefer to feed off of sexual energy. If no sexual energy is available or they cannot gain access to it, they will resort to feeding off of human blood. Their primary targets are sleeping humans, the gender of which depends (at least partially) on the gender of the demon itself. ‘Incubus/incubi’ refers to males, who prey on sleeping women, while ‘succubus/succubi’ refers to females who prey on sleeping men. Because of the changing times, however, Incubi and Succubi have become interchangeable terms, and individual demons may refer to themselves as whatever they prefer. While their targets are commonly of the opposite gender and they're typically represented as being almost always heterosexual, this is not always the case. In some scenarios, they've also been documented selecting targets and mates that are of the same gender as themselves

Vampire: Mostly humanoid, depending on their age and how much blood they’ve consumed over the years. They feed exclusively on blood, although some prefer the blood of animals over that of humans. Cannot go into direct sunlight, and doing so will result in being burnt

Mara: Also known as a “Nightmare demon”. Mostly humanoid, but typically lack any distinguishing features. Usually appear as nothing more than the completely black silhouette of a person, although some have been documented to have white or silver eyes, which lack a pupil or iris. It’s believed that many appear to be feminine, and either young women or old hags, but some do carry the preference of presenting themselves as being male or androgynous, as well. It is similar to Incubi/Succubi, but rather than feeding on sexual energy, it sits on the chest of a sleeping victim and brings nightmares. In some cases, they’re also known to suffocate their sleeping victim, as well as bring night terrors and sleep paralysis. After Pure Glitches, they’re the second hardest type of demon to catch on video or in photos, as their bodies tend to blend in with the surrounding shadows. They cannot exist in the light, and require some level of darkness to move about. Victims report feeling a heavy weight starting at their feet that very gradually spreads up their body and settles on their chest, before they became completely paralyzed. They retained the ability to see and hear, but along with their movement, they also lost the ability to speak, as well. They also report having vivid hallucinations and feeling a dark presence in the room with them

Imp: Can be humanoid, but like with other demon species, they can come in a variety of different shapes and sizes. They’re smaller than most demons, often ranging from 3’5 to 4’5, and they’re known for their short stature and red skin. Their eyes often appear yellow, and while males have angular horns that have black and white stripes around them, females have smaller horns that are mostly black with thin white stripes. They also have tails, the tips of which can either be shaped as an arrow or as a heart. They have a love for violence, and many base their careers on it. If their horns are curved and less angular, that would be the demon equivalent of balding

Inanimate: Almost always humanoid, but varies in appearance. They usually come in subtypes, such as mannequins, scarecrows, statues, dolls, animatronics, puppets, wax figures, dummies, etc. While they can move around normally in hell, they can only move if no one is looking, when they go to the human world. Like most demons, they enjoy scaring people, and they seem to prefer targeting anyone with automatonophobia (the fear of human-like figures)

Ink: Sometimes humanoid, sometimes not. They frequently resemble either a mostly humanoid figure or the upper half of a person (consisting of the head and neck, arms, chest, and upper half of the torso). They’re almost always entirely black and covered in sludge, and they lack any real distinguishing features, such as a face or clothing. It’s very rare to see any that appear in any other color or without the sludge. They’re supposedly made entirely of ink, hence their name. They’ve been seen coming out of ink puddles and “melting” back into them, and it’s thought that they use ink puddles to move from place to place. If one is strong enough, it may possess the ability to capture humans with its sludge, the substance becoming thicker and harder to pull oneself out of. If an Ink demon has built up enough strength and intelligence, they may even seek to convert humans into their personal servants. This could be achieved by first capturing and weakening a human, and then bleeding them out and replacing their blood with sludge. After the human completely heals and regains consciousness, they’re subjected to brainwashing and various forms of abuse, and this will continue until their spirit has been entirely broken and they’ve lost hope of escaping. Only once they lose hope and become entirely compliant, can the transformation into a servant be completed

Hellhound: There are two types that have been documented: Anthropomorphic and Feral. Anthropomorphic hellhounds typically have traits that are based off of canines (like dogs, wolves, coyotes, foxes, jackals, etc.) and walk upright on two legs like a human, while Feral hellhounds more closely resemble normal canines

Fallen Angels: Refers to angels who committed a crime and were cast down to hell from heaven. A prime example of this is Lucifer, who was once God’s favorite, and also known as the most beautiful angel in heaven 

Sinner: Refers to any demon who was once human. When one becomes a demon, they usually develop the traits of whatever ties in with their personality, the kind of life that they lived, or their cause of death. They start off humanoid, but their appearance changes over time, depending on the number of lives they’ve taken and the number of people/creatures they’ve consumed. It’s not uncommon for them to cannibalize other demons. In death, they may choose to keep their human name or go by something new. Sinner demons may become any of the previously listed types, excluding imps, hellhounds, incubi/succubi, and inanimates

Hellborn: Refers to any demon who was born in hell, such as imps, hellhounds, incubi/succubi, and inanimates. While Sinner demons may occasionally grow to resemble any of these types, there will always be a way to distinguish them and spot the fakes

Hellborn demons don’t always fall into one specific category or type, much like Sinner demons

Hybrid demon species do exist, but are not common and are typically outcasted from the rest of society. Usually, they like to stick to their own general races, such as any glitch variant pairing with another (‘glitch’ is more of an umbrella term that refers to Pure Glitches, Lens Flares, and Clickbaits) while any clown variants (meaning standard Circus/Carnival Clowns, Jesters, Mimes, and Harlequins) may pair off with another clown variant. The different races do sometimes reproduce and create offspring with humans, but the half human-half demon mixes are often outcasted, since most others feel like they don’t belong in hell, but they don’t belong in the human world, either

Harlequins and Incubi/Succubi are known to be more promiscuous in nature, so hybrids that are part clown or incubi/succubi are fairly common 

Devils and demons are extremely similar, though devils are almost always stronger, more violent, and more aggressive

It’s rare for demons to mate for life, but the bonded pairs that do usually end up moving out of the city. They relocate and choose to settle down somewhere away from most other demons, where they’re free to start a relatively peaceful life together

Because clown type demons are so similar, it’s common for two variants of one type to produce offspring that is another (ex: two standard Circus/Carnival Clowns may produce offspring that is a mime, or two Mimes may produce offspring that is a Jester)

If a Glitch variant reproduces with another Glitch variant, there’s a 50/50 chance that the offspring would be one type or the other (ex: a Pure Glitch and a Lens Flare may produce offspring that is either a Pure Glitch or a Lens Flare)

If two Sinner demons that don’t fall into any specific type produce offspring, the offspring would likely be another demon that shares their traits, similar to the outcomes whenever humans reproduce. The only thing to note would be that while Sinner demons aren’t native to hell, any children they have would technically be Hellborns

Hellhounds, Inks, and Imps are at the bottom of the food chain, so to speak. Maras, Vampires, and Incubi/Succubi are only slightly above them. Fallen Angels and Devils are at the very top, with Glitches right beneath them. Beneath Glitches would be Clowns, and then beneath Clowns would be Inanimates

From the bottom of the societal ladder to the top, the order would be: Hellhounds, Inks, Imps, Incubi/Succubi, Vampires, Maras, Inanimates, Clowns, Glitches, Devils, and Fallen Angels

Hellborn demons will almost always be stronger than Sinner demons. Sinners do have the potential to become stronger though, if the right conditions are met 

There are other subspecies that exist as well, like Spiders, Moths, Cyclops, Snakes, Technology, Plants, etc.

#rambles #info #riderverse #riderverse au #undertale #undertale au #four horsemen of the apocalypse #riders of the apocalypse

[marvelfansince08love]

“My loyalties lie with you, not the title you’ve been given” - Part 5

Word Count: 3k 

Pairing Cordelia Goode x Protector!Reader 

Warning: Some mentions of blood, fighting scene I guess? 

A/N: So sorry for the late update on this series, these two chapter are pretty heavy and I wanted them to be perfect! I hope you enjoy! x Thank you so much @canarypoint for editing and reading over and fangirling with me x Also a huge thank you to my girl for encouraging me to continue and for helping edit both parts, I love you <3

Side note: The Entity is slightly based off Michael Langdon but it isn’t him. 

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @veteranwerewolf95 @chewbacca0805 @creepingwolfberry @bluevelvetbitxh @saucy-sapphic @coconutlipss @fand0m-obsess3d-g33k @nyx-aira @versonstar @witchxaf @r0an0ke @pearplate @kikaykimkim @the-obscurity @mssallymckenna @minavenable @lezzzbehonesthere @goodeday2u @screechingshepherddeputygoth @softsleepypeach  @grilledcheeseandguavajelly​@shes-a-cancer-b @venablemayfairgoode

Part 5 

“What have you done, you stupid girl.” Fiona’s voice growls, startling you from your thoughts as you glare over at the woman.

“Protecting Cordelia, something you aren’t familiar with,” You snap back, anger spiralling throughout your body as you shake slightly. Fiona scoffs shaking her head as she slowly approaches you, standing a hair breath away her dead eyes stare into your own. 

“I always knew your love for her would get you killed one day,” Her voice laced with a certain emotion you would never associate with her with; fear. A humourless grin appears onto your cold lips as you take in her aged face. 

“Quite poetic is it not?” You murmur, your eyes showing no emotion not willingly to give this woman any satisfaction of seeing your torn vulnerability. 

Before she could answer a white light surrounds you all, making you squint and hiss at the brightness of the glow. Within a blink of an eye, you regain your senses gasping for mortal air as you reawaken above Fiona’s grave. Warm hands caress your cheeks as they continue their inspection for any harm. 

“Shhh you’re okay darling, it’s me. It’s me.” She repeats over and over as your wide eyes take in your surroundings the feeling of panic and anxiety erupts through your chest. Your eyes finally land on brown eyes full of reassurance and worry, seeing the familiar gaze makes you relax almost instantly as you try to even out your erratic breaths. 

“Lia,” You croak, clearing your dry throat. She smiles watery at you and nods mouthing a ‘yes’ before placing the crown of her head against your temple. 

“It felt like you were gone forever and then your body started to twitch uncontrollably I thought-” 

“Cordelia.” Fiona speaks from the side of you both, keeping her distance from her daughter. Cordelia tenses beside you before turning to face the woman she calls mother, she slowly stands from her crouched position keeping a steady arm around your waist as you gingerly stand with her. The two Goode’s stare at each for a moment taking in each other’s appearance, 

“Power looks good on you, dear.” She croaks, as her eyes scan her daughter’s stance. No longer cowering from the past supreme. 

“And death hasn’t done you any good, mother.” Cordelia retaliates, scolding herself silently for allowing herself to bite back. 

“Marie, would you like some help getting up? Shit, you white bitches.” Marie grumbles, as she shrugs off the dirt that lays against her clothes. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to shower until the smell of death leaves my body,” She informs, huffing as she takes her leave, Cordelia nods in acknowledgement at the Voodoo Queen mouthing her thanks as Marie nods back in reply continuing on her way. You stare longingly wanting to also depart from this awkward reunion as the two continue to stare one another down. Fiona breaks off the staring contest first as she flicks her wrist revealing a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, sparking one up. Inhaling deeply she allows the smoke to blow out into the cold dark night and sighs. 

“So, where do you want to start?” She asks, her careless persona strong as she continues to take in the nicotine. Cordelia smiles cruelly. 

“I’d rather we didn’t revisit the past, you are here for one reason only and that’s to help us defeat this darkness.” 

“The Entity,” You interrupt, correcting her softly, your eyes clashing with Fiona’s briefly. Cordelia turns to face you in confusion.

“While we were down there we got a lovely visit from Papa… He gave us little to nothing on the damn thing but told us his name.” You inform her, watching as she takes in the information. 

“He?” 

“Yes, the thing is a man. Big shocker there.” Fiona drawls out, through occasional puffs of smoke. Cordelia opts to ignore her mother, focusing her attention on you. 

“Did he give you anything else?” She asks, her voice laced with slightly desperation. You shake your head much to her disappointment.

“I’m sorry, Lia.” You apologise, wishing you could have given her more  She smiles reassuringly and cradles your cheek briefly shaking her head slightly. 

“No don’t be sorry, you risked a lot going down there. I- Thank you,” She says, her eyes lingering onto your own for a second longer. You almost feel like you could drown into her gaze forever but before you could reply she steps away clasping her hands together as if resisting herself from touching you again. 

“If you two love birds are done, I would like to run a hot bath with some nice salts, maybe a lovely glass of scotch,” Fiona rudely says, already making her way out of the graveyard and towards the car. You both blush as you avoid each others eyes, making your way back to the vehicle Fiona’s distance voice whining from a distance, “Have you got a spare pair of sunglasses, I wouldn’t want my ‘dead eyes’ scaring the children,” you scoff as you open up the front passenger door purposely moving into the seat, Fiona huffs as she settles into the backside. You open up the glove department and pass the older blonde a pair of black sunglasses. 

“Bold of you to assume you didn’t already scare children before you died,” You bite, a teasing grin appearing on your face as you feel Cordelia’s scolding but amused eyes on you. Shrugging, you settle into your seat and stare out into the night, Papa’s deal heavy on your mind as guilt settles within your chest. Looking into the wing mirror you can feel Fiona’s gaze through her heavily tinted glasses, gulping you turn away from her judging gaze focusing on the road ahead. 

‘What have I done?’

***

Pulling up at the Academy, you can see the older girls lingering by the window curious to see the woman that’s been brought back from the dead. Myrtle stands regal as ever by the front door, her signature cigarette holder in hand as she takes a drag, her icy gaze burning heavily into Fiona’s form as she makes her way up the steps of the Academy. 

“You look awfully ghastly my dear,” She comments, her fiery hair matching her sass. Fiona scoffs holding her arms out to the woman. 

“At least I have death as an excuse, you old hag.” She fires back, grinning icily at the redhead. You and Cordelia share a knowing glance used to the pair’s bickering back and forth, as you hover close behind the pair. Myrtle chuckles dryly as she steps aside to let the older woman through before placing herself in front of you and Cordelia stopping you from following.

“Are you both okay, my dears?” She asks, her voice no longer full of ice and venom as her motherly gaze scans you both. You both nod smiling softly at the woman who holds you both in such high regard and vise versa. Cordelia presses a kiss to her cheek before moving past her and into the building not wanting to leave Madison and her mother in a room alone together for too long. You hover for a moment debating your next words as you take in Myrtle’s form. The witch frowns at your fidgeting state, silently questioning your hesitation. 

“I did something stupid,” You admit quietly, briefly glancing through the open front door making sure no one else could hear your confession. The redhead steps away from the door and loops her arm around your elbow guiding you away from the entrance so you could circle the grounds. 

“My dear girl, you have a look of someone with a heavy heart. Please speak to me,” She comforts softly, her tender voice makes your eyes tear up as you blurt out your secret. 

“I made a deal with Papa Legba. If we don’t deliver him the Entity’s soul then he shall take mine,” You confess, tearfully. The woman remains calm and quiet as she allows you to continue. 

“I’m not even scared of that, I’ve never been scared of death but- He mentioned my powers and the darkness as if sensing my potential ability to destroy everything in my path. I don’t even know what I’m capable of anymore, Myrtle.” You admit, your real fear spoken out loud makes you sob as the older woman pulls you into a bone crushing hug. She whispers harshly with a touch of tenderness into your ear. 

“You listen to me, my sweet girl.” She pulls back and holds onto your face with both her hands, forcing you to keep your attention on her distraught face. “You are not evil, you may have powers that you have yet to unlock but you could never be evil. That power that swirls inside you is the most powerful magic I have ever come across that’s why you are the protector. You’re of love and light my dear, that darkness that wants to pull its way through is unmatched to that of the light,” Your eyes blur as you take in her reassuring words, collapsing slightly into her arms. 

“You should tell Cordelia about the deal,” She advises, making you pull back from your embrace slightly offended by her comment. 

“It would kill her Myrtle, I promised her that I’d be beside her always. I can’t-” 

“Would you prefer that you didn’t and then die without giving her a chance to fight for your life,” Her words penetrate through your heart like a stab wound. You gulp feeling torn by her words and guidance. 

“I’m the one who’s supposed to fight for her life,” You argue weakly. Myrtle chuckles amused, before holding your gaze once again. 

“Y/N haven’t you realised it yet, darling? You both continue to fight for each other, you think after all these years Cordelia didn’t once ask me about you. Or how during the attacks with the witch hunters a few years back, you didn’t step in from the shadows and take out the last remaining vermin as they tried to attack her.” She pauses for a moment allowing you to take in her painfully truthful words. “You both have had each other’s backs since you stepped foot into this academy all those years ago. This will be like any other time, so tell her and fight like hell against the bastard, together like always,” She finishes her speech, her breathing becoming erratic as her words spill from her mouth. The sound of a twig snapping startles you both from your private moment, slow clapping starts from within the shadows around the trees. Pulling Myrtle back slightly you inch away from the dark forest that surrounds the Academy. 

“My, so much wisdom from such an experienced witch, bravo.” The deep voice teases, as the figure becomes more clearer as it steps out from between the trees. Stood dressed in a black suit and a devilish grin is, the entity. You tense instantly as you keep your gaze on his confident form. 

“Get to the house,” You murmur to Myrtle,  who goes to protest. “Now.” You force out, watching as his grin becomes more apparent. 

“Yes, listen to your dear protector.” He taunts, watching as the redhead flees to the academy to alert the others. His black eyes turn to you a glint of mischief sparkling within the darkness. 

“It’s more fun when they are terrified, makes for a better meal.” he teases, folding his hands in front of him. You glare at his smug expression. 

“Sorry I didn’t realise we were dressing up for the event,” you comment, wanting to keep him distracted for as long as possible in hopes that Myrtle and the other older girls manage to perform the safekeeping spell allowing the younger witches and warlocks to be sent as far away as possible from here. He chuckles amused at your attempt of distraction.

“Well it is your funeral, my dear. I merely dressed for the occasion.” He follows up, his hands becoming more invisible as the black mist surrounds his fingers. You can feel your powers boiling at the surface as your body becomes aware of its current threat, tiny sparks tingle from your fingers as you keep a close eye on him. Before he can make a move you throw your hands out, throwing him further into the woods wanting to keep him as far away from the academy as possible. His confident exterior falls after you make your first move, striding deeper into the woods you follow the line of destruction already made by his flying body. The faint sound of your name being called from the house, gives you pause allowing him a chance to take advantage at your distracted state. Black mist encircles around your feet as your body begins to tense, fear spikes through you as you start to lose awareness of your own body, unable to move anything as it continues to circle around your waist. 

“Y/N!” Cordelia screams as she races forward, Misty and Queenie moving to the side of the man effectively startling him from his task, both chanting in Latin as he loses his focus on you. Tears build in your eyes as you feel your senses overwhelm you again as you regain them back, Cordelia stands at your side in a flash, keeping her eyes on the entity as he continues to fight off the two older witches. Marie and Fiona join the pair as they begin to lose the upper hand in their ongoing fight. 

“Cordelia- the girls,” You choke out, holding onto her arms for dear life. Her hand strokes through your hair briefly, 

“They're okay, the other girls got them out. Myrtle is with them.” She informs quickly, ready to move away from you to help with the fight, noticing Queenie’s unconscious state as he manages a good strike to the witch. Before she can move you grip her arm, needing to tell her before it's too late.

“Cordelia I-” 

“This can wait Y/n, we've gotta attack while we can,” 

John Moore appears next to you with your brothers in tow, ready to take him on as you reluctantly let go of her arm, Marie flies backwards as he strikes her next effortlessly knocking back every effort from each of them who dare to reach him. Elijah makes his way around the fight, attacking him from behind as he launches forward, taking him to the ground before disappearing from beneath him. A deep chuckle echoes throughout the tall trees as you all look for the location of his voice, Misty kneels closely next to Queenie as she slowly regains consciousness. 

“You won’t win, your powers are nothing compared to mine,” His voice sinister, as if whispering in your ear. Cordelia looks over at her dishevelled witches gulping slightly. 

“Michael, Elijah get Queenie out of here now,” She demands, her voice trembling. They try to protest but your eyes silence them from speaking any further. 

“Ah yes, run away. I like the chase,” He taunts further, still invisible to the eyes as we keep an eye on the clearings surrounding us. The boys move quickly towards an exhausted Queenie, throwing her arms around their shoulders as Misty trails behind them, ready to attack if anything were to happen to them as they retreat. You keep your back close to Delia’s as the other three keep close, creating a make shifting circle. 

“Fucking Coward!” You shout into the air, frustrated by his cat and mouse game. He appears then leaning lazily against the tree trunk, that devilish grin on his face once again. 

“Oh my dear, we both know that’s not true. Little Ms. Protector, poor thing having so many expectations to live up to,” He pouts, taunting you some more as you clench your jaw. You try to shake off his words, knowing he’s looking for a window to get into your head. 

“I’ve been watching you for a while, Miss Wardwell. That darkness that swirls deep inside is boiling over and soon it will all topple over,” He continues, you feel Cordelia tense next to you as your normally bright coloured eyes darken a deep black. 

“Enough of this!” Fiona exclaims, launching forward to attack using her magic, startling him slightly as her attack strikes his cheek from afar causing the smallest trickle of blood to drop from his cheekbone. He touches the trail of blood examining his red stained finger before turning to the woman, his eyes blown black. Tree branches move on their own towards Fiona, Marie and John wrapping themselves around their wrists and waists pulling them in close to their tree trunk keeping them in place, a trail of black mist surrounding them to stop any magical advantages. 

“I wanted to play nice but now you can watch your only daughter die,” He says, smiling mercilessly at the woman before turning his attention onto you both. You move quickly in front of her, as you try with all your might to keep the mist at bay as it seeps through your protective barrier. Your head begins to pound as you feel your powers weakening as Cordelia helps with the barrier, as the mist encircles you once again you turn towards your Cordelia helplessly. She places her hands delicately against your cheeks, her fingers trembling against your now wet skin. 

“I can’t hold this up for long,” You whimper, feeling yourself becoming less aware of your senses, the tiniest touch of Cordelia’s lips against cheek is the only reassuring embrace as you close your eyes wanting to hold onto the feeling for as long as you could. You lean your head against Cordelia's as watery eyes match her tearful ones, she smiles brightly at you, that same smile you saw the very first day you met her. Before you could tell her the one thing you’ve wanted to say since that day you walked out on her wedding day, you succumb to the darkness.

I love you.

#cordelia goode x reader #cordelia goode #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #cordelia foxx #ahs coven #loyalty series #fiona goode #myrtle snow #ahs apocalypse

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Venn Diagram

Venn Diagram Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: DabiTwice; Implied Huwumi Summary: DabiTwice Week Day 2 Prompt Fill: Part of a longer DabiTwice Pro Heroes AU I have in the works and may have spoilers for more recent manga chapters if you aren’t up to date. Dabi reminded himself that he should maintain his composure, as expected of a Pro of his caliber. After all, it was just a civil meeting with another Pro to discuss agency lines and the swiping of a culprit. So what if the other Pro in question had a jawline of immaculately chiseled marble? He certainly didn’t care! Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

Also Minor Trigger Warning: Implied/ Referenced Mental Illness

Touya checked his appearance in the mirror for the upmtenth time in the last five minutes. He shouldn’t be this worked up, he reminded himself, fussing as if it was a real date. It wasn’t a real date, he insisted to himself for an even larger attempt. Sure, the other had practically purred the invitation to coffee at him but that didn’t mean anything! It was just two guys hanging out and discussing the logistics of whether or not the other had stolen Dabi’s target from him! At a coffee shop that the other insisted was great for getting a handle on someone else!

So what if Bubaigawara Jin was 5’Hunk tall with a warming grin and sharp eyes? Touya certainly didn’t care! This was strictly business!

Which was why he’d spent two hours the prior night stressing over his outfit.

And then another hour and a half fussing over it when he woke up.

And planned to come up with an incredibly clever lie to tell Father as to where he was going, because God forbid Father know who it was Touya’s little meetup was with.

Touya groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands, reminding himself to stay calm as anxiety caused his skin to prickle with warmth. He was usually incredibly good at keeping his Quirk under control and had learned early on that his emotions correlated to it. Thankfully enough, Father had been quick to come up with tactics to handle his flames so as to halt his harming himself and allowing him to pursue Pro Heroics professionally, eager to follow in his father’s footsteps.

Which placed him back in the current moment.

Todoroki Enji was not an easily impressed or rattled man, more times than not seeming cruelly indifferent. This was, of course, just how the public saw him. Touya and his siblings knew that, while a harsh critic and incredibly awkward at expressing his feelings, Father was an ultimately good and kind man. He was also, however, a very disciplined and serious man, who took pride in his work and shouldered the weight of his profession with the kind of regalia he expected of others.

It was most likely why he had some rather… strong opinions about his peers.

The obvious ones were Number One Pro All Might, who he made his disdain and resentment for apparent all the time. After that came Hawks, ranked Number Three, who he found irritating due to his haughty behavior. They were the two big standouts due to their close ranking to Endeavor himself but much more so in how they had the ability to set him off in the first place with minimal effort. Hawks was your standard troll the handful of times they’d interacted, playfully digging at the older man in ways that he knew would set him off behind closed doors and then smiling through the tongue lashing. All Might was an unintentional irritant. His apparent ignorance to Endeavor’s self-imposed rivalry between them seemed to only further push Enji’s buttons regarding it.

And then there was Pro Hero Torrential, whose agency was their neighbor and Enji held equally strong opinions about. More times than not, he could be heard grousing about that “uncouth sea hag and her salty little hooligans” just across the way. Torrential herself was relatively skilled at what she did - well enough to rank in the top 25 - but she seemed to revel in firing Enji up more than chasing down baddies. Her own Quirk was water-based so she was always quick to use it to her advantage along with passive aggressive jabs just to prod at Endeavor’s ego. If Touya was honest, he didn’t understand his Father’s reasons for falling for it every time. After so long, he figured that it was the reaction that had Torrential poking and prodding like she did. Furthermore, there were 20 ranks separating them on the charts, so why should her opinion matter so much? Or was it more a matter of how frequently she was able to rattle his cage? However, Torrential was part of why Touya felt compelled to lie about who he was meeting up with.

Jin was also a Pro Hero by the name of Twice, who was Torrential’s faithful right hand man.

He shook his head and started to make his way down the halls to head out. As he walked through, he realized that it seemed Father was nowhere to be seen. Had he stepped out for something? He knew he was off work today, but it wasn’t impossible that something had come up. The man was a workaholic, after all. He felt himself relax at not needing to have any kind of story figured out. He stopped at the door to lace on his boots only to jump as Father walked in, Shoto and two of his little friends a few paces behind him. “Touya? Where are you going?” Enji asked.

He opened his mouth to answer, trying to keep the panic from being too obvious, when there was the sound of quick footfalls behind them. “Touya, you jerk! I told you I just needed an extra minute to finish getting ready!” All eyes shifted to Fuyumi as she came bustling into the entryway, pouting at her brother with her hands on her hips, all dolled up for a trip of her own.

It took Touya less than two seconds to roll with it. “Not my fault you take forever,” he drawled with an overly dramatic roll of his eyes.

Enji looked between his older two children with a raised brow. “Where are the two of you going?”

“Akiko and I wanted to go shopping today,” Fuyumi said as she stepped down to put her own shoes on, “but Mom was worried about us going out alone, what with all the escalated Villain activity lately.”

“So I offered to go with as bodyguard in exchange for Yumi paying for my grub,”

Shoto blinked slowly. “Hopefully you’re gonna have two servings, because I get the feeling they’re gonna use you like a pack mule,” he quipped flatly.

“Shoto! So mean!” Fuyumi gasped while Touya released a sharp bark of laughter. Shoto wasn’t always the best with his comedic timing, but when he was, he always nailed a bullseye!

Enji made a small noise of agreement. “I see. I was hoping you could help me with these three today, but this is much better,” the older man said with a small nod. “You two look after one another out there. And if you need anything, just call. We’ll be there at a moment’s notice if you need the assistance.”

“Of course, Father,” Fuyumi said, giving him a brief hug and quick peck to one cheek before waving at Shoto and his friends. “Have fun training, boys. And don’t let Father work you guys too hard.”

“I think it’s actually the other way around,” Touya hummed, grinning mischievously when Enji scowled at him. “You aren’t exactly a spring chicken any more, old man.”

“In yet I can still run circles around you,” he said back, the only shift to his expression being the slightest twitch to the left corner of his mouth.

“What did you sa-!” He was suddenly jerked away from the brewing squabble by Fuyumi tugging on his arm.

“Touya, you and Father can bicker later! We’re gonna be late!” With that final declaration, he was unceremoniously dragged out the door, Shoto and his friend with the green hair waving at them.

Once they were on the street proper, he readjusted himself and glanced sideways at Fuyumi. While her outfit was casual enough for a girl’s day to be plausible, he had his doubts. “So, what are you actually getting up to?” he asked suspiciously.

She flashed him an expectant look. “What, no ‘thank you’ for saying your floundering butt back there?”

“I wasn’t floundering,” he huffed.

“But you would have been the second you had to lie about what you were doing. Because clearly you’re going on a date. And with someone you think Father would disapprove of, if you feel the need to hide it,” she explained evenly. He winced and averted his gaze from her. Fuyumi was an incredibly quick woman, much to Touya’s simultaneous chagrin and relief. She was incredibly in-tune with the people she loved and could piece things out with them with the greatest of ease. This attribute could be a great asset or a detriment, depending on where her loyalties lay at any given moment. “Look, I’m not going to pry or anything. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.”

“Thanks, Yumi,” he said with a small sigh. He felt his shoulders slump a bit as he relaxed. Despite her occasional bratty little sister tendencies, Fuyumi knew when to keep certain things to herself. “Just… I’m going to talk to Father about it eventually. Probably. If anything more comes of this.”

“Not sure if this mystery man is gonna pass the first date test?” she asked while waggling her eyebrows at him playfully.

He contemplated answering that it wasn’t a date, but a work-related conference. Because he was still insisting to himself that it really was only that. “Not sure if I’m gonna pass the first date,” he grumbled quietly.

“Touya,” she said in quiet shock. He tried to ignore her by continuing to walk, but she reached out and grabbed his arm. He stopped and turned to face worried cerulean eyes. “Hey, if the first date doesn’t go well, that’s not your fault. It could just mean you two aren’t as good together as you initially thought.”

“Just like the last two guys I tried to get serious with?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like thinking about it, really. But it felt like… Well, outside of his family name, he didn’t have much to offer a boyfriend. His own rise to acclaim as a Pro was far from glamorous and he knew his tendency towards sarcasm and dramatics weren’t always the biggest appeals to lots of people.

Fuyumi huffed and reached up to lightly pat his cheeks. “Hey,” she said, her tone serious and firm in a delicate way that only she and Mom seemed capable of, “I know what you’re thinking and I’m gonna break down why you’re wrong. You’re successful, you’re funny, you’re smart, you know what you want and how to get it. And, most importantly, you know who you are and don’t put up with other people’s crap. Those guys before? They were just assholes who thought they could ‘fix’ you without realizing you don’t need fixing. It’s not your fault if they were intimidated by you and how comfortable you are in your own skin.”

He opened his mouth to say something before chuckling quietly and closing his eyes. “Damn, just cutting straight through, huh?”

She giggled and let her hands shift to carefully adjust the janked collar of his leather coat. “Now, cheer up! You’re clearly interested in this guy, whoever he is, so focus on having fun!”

“Fine, fine,” he mused, opening his eyes to glance at her again. He realized that they should probably iron out the details of their plan. It’d look suspicious if they came home without the other, after all. “So, how do we wanna deal with the rents when we get back?”

“Akiko’s already aware of the cover story, so I’ll let her know to cover for you, too, just in case. We were going to meet up for dinner around 5:30-6. You can join us for gossip, and then we go home together afterwards,” she suggested as they reached a crosswalk. He nodded as he hit the sign to keep going north, towards the train station, while she moved to go west. “I’ll add you to our text chat so that you know where to meet us at.” With that said, she waved and scampered across the crosswalk as it turned, lifting her hand to wave at a figure waiting on the other side.

Touya froze for a second as he took in the figure, wearing baggy clothes, large shades and a cap with a wide brim. The outfit was clearly a front to keep their actual physical characteristics hidden; whether to avoid the ire of the Todoroki men or not, Touya wasn’t entirely sure. He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his gaze as Fuyumi rushed to their side. They offered one of their arms to her, which she eagerly attached to, her back still facing Touya. The capped figure glanced up briefly and Touya froze at the sharp golden eyes fixated on him, followed by a sly grin.

He was tempted to follow after them but then the crosswalk chimed for him. He decided to leave it until later, given Fuyumi had done him a favor. He couldn’t shake his sudden hunger for barbeque-style chicken wings, though.

Thankfully enough, he showed up right on time at the agreed upon coffee shop. Bubaigawara was waiting out front for him, one hand in the pocket of the bomber jacket he was wearing while the other was scrolling through something on his phone. He perked up as Touya approached, his phone immediately disappearing into his pocket. “Hey! Hope it wasn’t a hassle finding this place,” he prompted.

Touya flashed a small smirk as he reached him. “Think I’ll be disoriented just because we’re in a shop on your agency's side?”

He chuckled and indicated the simple chalkboard display and Wooden hanging sign that read “Bean There, Brew That” above the front door of the shop. “More just because this place is a little bit of a hole in the wall. Owner’s a real sweet lady, though,” he assured before reaching for the door and holding it open for him. “After you, Dabi.”

He laughed as he slipped past. “I ain’t on duty; drop that formal bullshit. Just call me Todoroki or Touya,” he groused.

“In that case, Todoroki,” Twice said as he walked in after him, “fuck the formal bullshit with me, too.”

“Sounds good, Bubaigawara,” he agreed, allowing the other to lead him to the front counter. The shop, as he said, was a simple and laid-back place, with quiet piano music playing over the speaker and only two or three other patrons occupying the joint. The elderly owner was behind the counter, ringing customers up, while her grandkids helped her with preparing orders. Bubaigawara insisted on paying for both their drinks while Touya was sent to find a seat. He ended up selecting a spot by the window.

There was a soft thunk as his drink was set in front of him. “Fan of people watching?” Bubaigawara asked as he settled in across from him.

“Nice way to kill time,” he shrugged, sliding his drink closer. He carefully removed the plastic lid and watched the steam roll out in large uneven plumes, the strong and thick scent of fresh brewed coffee filling his senses. “Tended to do it a lot as a kid. Learned when a lot of the other kids were getting up to dumb shit.”

“Oh, that must have made you real popular with your peers as you got older!” he laughed.

Touya snorted himself as he took a sip of his drink. “Enough so that I got kicked out of my ritzy lil school,” he scoffed. The blonde haired man perked up at that, sipping his own drink and making a noise of interest. Realistically, Touya knew he shouldn’t be sharing this fact so early on. This information was more of a second or third date sort of thing. But… He also didn’t want to have to skirt around parts of himself. He was a work in progress and he wanted to make sure any potential partners were aware. “My first year at UA I got in a real bad fight with some other kid. Now, admittedly, I wasn’t exactly the scholarly type to start with, and I’d butted heads with this particular dick more than once. Ratted him out for cheating on a practical test so him and his buddies jumped me after school. Pretty sure I broke the asshole’s jaw and left him with some permanent burn marks.”

“Sounds like they deserved it, though,” the other said evenly. “I mean, they attacked you. And they outnumbered you. You were just defending yourself.” He took another sip of his drink and flashed an amused smirk. “Plus you’re the one that became a Pro, even without attending a proper Hero school. You’re the one that cared enough to still deserve a career in the field while I’d be willing to wager those dipshits all flunked out or are nothing but coffee jockies.”

Touya froze as he leaned to take another sip of his drink. He blinked three times in quick succession before shaking his head. “What?”

“What?” he parrotted back, glancing back up in surprise.

“You… You’re serious?”

“Yes…? I mean, again, they started it. Did they just expect you to roll over and take it? You wouldn’t just let a Villain you stopped from robbing a bank curb stomp you under the principle of alerting the police that they were going to be apprehended,” he pointed out, waving one hand as he spoke.

Touya continued to stare, mind reeling. While Father hadn’t been angry with him for getting thrown out of UA, he also hadn’t been thrilled. His pride in his son for doing what was right was undercut by his disappointment in that same son not showing the restraint he knew he had. The resulting lecture from Father had been a strange mix, trying to insist he stand by his morals but also knowing when to back down from a fight. Even to this day, though, Touya struggled with that specific concept. After all, it was up to Pro Heroes to protect the public, to assure law and order was upheld. If they didn’t hold other Pros to the same standard, what good was all their preaching? It would be nothing more than moral grand-standing.

“And, I mean, if it makes you feel better, I dropped out of middle school,” Bubaigawara said with another shrug.

“No joke?” Touya asked, relaxing at the table and leaning a bit closer.

He hummed. “That was around the time that, uh, my mental health took a nosedive. Struggled with that shit for a long time. Got this as a result of all that, actually,” he laughed lightly, reaching up to tap the long scar that ran down the center of his scar. Touya had only really seen it a handful of times and always assumed it was something medical, but now that he looked at it closer, he could tell that it wasn’t perfectly symmetrical like he always thought. “I… Kinda gave up, to be honest. Everyone around me gave up on me, so what was the point? I decided to just become who everyone assumed I always was for a good couple of years. But then… After the worst week of my fucking life… Captain found me.”

Touya blinked in surprise. Captain was the term that Torrential’s staff called her by. He knew part of it was as a show of respect and he’d heard she recruited her staff through unconventional means, but the details weren’t something he’d explored. “Huh… And she set you on the right path?”

“Don’t know if she really even meant to get me the way she did,” he confessed with a wistful smile. He sipped his drink and stared outside at the few passersby. “But long story short, she pushed me to follow my passions and gave me the encouragement I needed to do it. But I’ll tell you about that another time.”

A small chuckle escaped Touya at that. “I’ll hold you to that,” he hummed, feeling more at ease on this date than he had on any in the last three years.

And, yes, he finally embraced that he was on a date.

#My Hero Academia #DabiTwice #Dabi #Twice #DabiTwice Week #DabiTwice Week 2021 #my fics #TW: Mental Health Issues #TW: Violence #I had a lot of fun with this one! #These two most def have similarities in canon #So I wanted to highlight the idea of them having similarities in this AU as well

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E96 (February 25, 2020)

Tonight’s guests are Taliesin Jaffe and Liam O’Brien!

Announcements: The Chicago live show and C2E2 are imminent! The live show will be on Thursday night, but an hour earlier than usual, at 6 PM Pacific/8 PM Central! Liam will be at the live show, but unfortunately has to leave C2E2 early and won’t be able to make it on Sunday. On Friday, the first behind-the-scenes video for The Legend of Vox Machina animated series was posted on YouTube, introducing the writing team!

Episode 96: Family Shatters

Stats for this week’s episode! Of the 16 times Caleb has cast Teleportation Circle, the M9 have remembered to contact someone prior to their arrival 7 times. Of those 7 times, they were successful at contacting someone at the location only 3. Taliesin: “We’re playing this game like Skyrim, we’re just going through people’s houses breaking pottery.” Caduceus got the straw hat that he gave to Clarabelle in episode 31, about 188 in-game days ago. There were 17 cow-related puns. Dani: “Is that above or below average for a Critical Role episode?”

“Clay was kind of built relatively quickly. I didn’t give Matt a ton to play with. I gave him the order in which they left, I gave him Clay’s attitude and his impression of his family members, which was usually just one sentence, and some basic idea of what their power set might be if they had one. I always thought of him as, from a family perspective, of what would have happened to Percy if nothing went wrong.” He was happy to be the one to run the family business and just hang around at home and run the shrine. “I think the rest of the kids’ wanderlust probably put them at odds quite a bit.” He liked being able to play that conflict and show what Caduceus was like when he was annoyed. Cad took after his father, the girls generally wanted to leave, and Colton is “just sort of a doofus.”

Caleb was an only child, so seeing this many kids was a lot. “They clearly had their grudges and their different dynamics with each other, but that’s normal, for sure. Caleb’s very unfamiliar with it.” He also keeps looking at Nott and thinking about how everything he’s doing is about wanting to rebuild his family, whereas Nott is so conflicted about going back to hers. “He doesn’t understand it, but he doesn’t want to push it” or judge her for it. “I thought I had a really defined direction at the start of the campaign, but my seven best friends have knocked it silly.”

What’s keeping Cad with the Nein? “Caduceus is not ready to go home at all. He’s not done with his walkabout. He feels like he wants to see a bit more. He feels he has an intense debt to pay. He feels he has a mission to see everybody else through, at the very least. Or at least he’s telling himself that. So he’s saved his home, or at least he thinks he’s saved his home, and his family’s all right, so now it’s debts that must be paid. He’s not somebody who thinks you can just get off the bus.”

“Caleb was going to ask [the hag] about the ability to travel backward through time, not really believing that she could do that, but was still like, show me what you’ve got.” Even if she’d said it, he would have thought she was a liar. “Probably would’ve offered to kill the M9″ in exchange, then would’ve turned around to hit her with a surprise Disintegrate. Liam notes repeatedly that nothing could possibly have been as cool as what Laura wound up doing.

On the Nein not worrying about places Cad considered sacred ground, Caduceus “is fine with conflict. He doesn’t even really have to have conflict, he could assert himself if he were so inclined. It’s that he’s aware that there are limits to what these people can do. It’s very much the philosophy of ‘children and drunks can do no wrong’.” He’s picking his battles.

Was there a defining moment where Caleb started seeing the Nein as family? No single moment. “It’s like love by a thousand cuts.” Liam notes that he’s still not sure how Caleb would react if he suddenly had the means to carry out his plans. “He’s got the recovering-addict mentality.”

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Pumat! (CriticalHitical, photo by Minniemooncos on Twitter)

Taliesin notes that Caduceus is definitely feeling more connected to the group. “If anything, Caduceus is really embracing his role as the spiritual guide to the group. He feels like he really has a lot to offer from that perspective of being the roving therapist. Or at least, he thinks he’s a roving therapist.” Liam notes that Cad is the most mysterious of the group to Caleb. “He’s the most religious character I’ve ever played, too. He’s fun! He really came together very nicely.”

On Caleb being more lighthearted on occasion: “He’s been out of practice being a human being for a long time.” The Nein’s brand of ridiculousness is rubbing off on him.

Why hasn’t Cad been pranking the Nein? “They don’t treat him poorly in that way yet. Siblings, man. I have quite a few siblings, and there is an energy. It’s the same way like when you’re around your parents, you revert to a 15-year-old.” Same with siblings. “There’s just something-- just the urge to torture them is so overpowering.” The moment he got the whistle, he knew exactly what he was going to do with it. Liam was reminded of Taliesin’s real-life siblings while watching these interactions in the game.

On Caleb’s laying on compliments for the Traveler: “The thing about time travel is it’s so implausible. It’s so implausible that I could see us finishing this campaign and Caleb will still have it in the back of his head for the rest of his life. But maybe Artagan could help with that. He certainly sees the potential in Artagan, and it was a balance between wanting to support everything Jester has devoted her life to, so it just felt like everyone was ready to write it off. Life is often like this, life isn’t what you thought it would be, it is what it is. Let’s not damn this yet, let’s feel it out. And if I can use this situation to possibly eradicate ultimate evil, that’s a win.”

Cad found it tough to have family and friends in the same room and play both roles. “I don’t know how much it came across that he was trying to keep them, not necessarily separated, but ‘family, guys, guys, family, ANYWAY.’” He did want to get his family on their way as quickly as possible. Cad is the equivalent of his early 20s, so something like 85-120 years old for a firbolg. 

Liam is asked about the conversation between Caleb and Yasha on watch several episodes ago. "You know what one of the best parts of that scene that played out was, is about 20 minutes or 30 minutes before that happened, I texted Ashley at the table and said, ‘Want to take watch? I have nothing planned, it could be fun.’” He wasn’t expecting it to go that far. “I think he had such an extreme reaction because he felt that he had done a good job of hiding things, and he was suddenly worried that he was transparent, that everyone had been able to read him this whole time when he’d thought that he was-- well, he’s a little in love with Jester Lavorre, and has been for a while, uselessly in love with her. The waltz was probably a little pebble. And in that moment-- this doesn’t play out verbally too much in the show, but he just was worried that this thing that he’s never going to admit to because it’s useless, she’s finding herself, and has her whole life ahead of her, and has other people around her who care about her and are a whole lot better for her than he is. And he’s aware of the way those two [Fjord and Beau] feel as well. It’s just there in the background fucking up his shit. It’s really just a problem. Big fucking problem.” 

Fan art of the week: a gorgeous Clay family portrait! (by Teaweltzer on Twitter)

On Clay being absent for the renewal of his home: “I don’t think his arc’s ending off-screen. I think his arc ends when he comes home to see what’s become of it.”

Is Caleb worried about Beau since the confrontation with her father? “Of course he is. She’s ignoring all the advice that she gave him. He doesn’t like to see her that hard on herself when she’s so competent and probably the backbone of the group. It’s the most judgey Caleb’s been of anybody, really, but he’s very aware of the pain of family and personal stuff. She knows her, and even though he broke his shit in half, he could still see the dynamic in the room when we visited his family, so he feels for her. We need you and we love you and we will miss you, you don’t fucking get to go.”

Each of the temples has a secondary god; what was the Blooming Grove’s other god? “The Blooming Grove is for the Archeart because it is a gift of beauty. It’s the Allhammer, the Changebringer, and the Archeart. It’s kind of a powerplay from the Wildmother, in my opinion. They’re all three based off of very specific types of funereal practices that are common throughout the world.”

Caleb saw giving over the transformation spell to Essek as a returning of one of his many favors. “Caleb likes Essek a lot. They’re like two highly gifted kids at school together. And, you know, he’s quirkily charming and handsome. There’s just no reason not to, in his mind. Outside of the M9, he’s probably the only person that Caleb would see as a friend that he’s made. Everyone else is just sort of scenery around the M9.”

What’s next for Cad? “It’s a little bit of finding himself, or at least finishing himself would be the way to put it.” (cue snickering from off-camera) “He’s also vaguely aware of some of the things that are going to possibly emotionally damage the party on the horizon, and he wants to be ready to deal with, in vague order, whatever’s going to happen to Jester, and then whatever’s going to happen to Fjord, and then whatever’s going to happen to Nott, and Yasha, and Caleb. He doesn’t know how to deal with what Beau’s going through. It’s the one thing he has no experience of, because he has no experience with that family dynamic. When he met people with that family dynamic, it was always at the end of it.”

Some fans sent in death whistles. Brian encourages Taliesin to play one on the plane.

The hat for Calliope was a last-minute thought. The flute could also have gone for Colton, depending on “who I could sneak up on”.

Caleb took a symbol of the Archeart from the Labenda Swamp. “I think it was familiar to me. I think I might have either correctly or mistakenly thought it reminded me of the woman who helped Caleb in the Sanatorium.”

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long text post

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 23.1)

I KNOW MY EDIT SUCKED. HEH. That’s my book cover in Wattpad. Couldn’t post CHAPTER 23.2 there because the application is glitching and I’m annoyed af. Anyway, enjoy this chapter for WOTN. 

CHAPTER 23

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Maybe a witch isn't the key for your getaway because it could be deeper than that.

Warnings: The summary sucked. I couldn't write anything to avoid spoilers. LMAO. Curses. Tybalt and Geralt banter/hate for each other? 😂 Rohesia is my OC, not connected to any of the games or books. The witcher character named Gerd (AHA. I'VE INTENTIONALLY DID THIS. Surprised to see a stomach sickness used as a name lmao jk 😂) from the Bear school has been used. Bethleheigm is also a made up kingdom from moi. 😂 (Pronounced as Beth-le-haym)

Words: 4.3k

A/N: I know Kaer Morhen is located in Kaedwen. Damn it. I lately knew it when I was already half way through this fic and I can't change it anymore. Let's just say...oof. They'll eventually go there. Don't worry. Oop. Is it a spoiler? 😭

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! I apologize for errors!

Disclaimer: PNG's and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. (Credits to the rightful owners of the gifs, it’s written in the lower part of their gifs. Though, some don’t. Still, credits to them. If you want it to be removed, just kindly message me) The edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be. This has no connection towards the books or games.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

DAY THREE CAME QUICKLY THAN WHAT WAS EXPECTED. Taking the shorter route to keep the proximity of hours easier for traveling back faster to Kaedwen. Geralt and Tybalt had an allayed journey towards the outskirts of Bethleheigm.

If a narrator was utterly dramatic, he or she could say that the witcher was beyond exhausted over being with the higher vampire because he only knew how to gall him over and over---a deathless cycle through out their travel, side by side with their own horses and vexation over each other. Yet, Geralt rarely has given him his energy for a battle that was pathetic as it ends.

They've both shared a night somehow. Their backs meters away from each other. With Geralt and his sarcasm never shutting one's eye until Tybalt was cursing him out under the moon light because the white wolf warned him not to think about hunting people to quench his thirst for blood. The higher vampire was left throwing him a pebble on his back and muttering how the full moon won't be until the day of the feast in the castle where he would technically celebrate over being a vampire but this choice could also be eradicated since blood was not in the highest scale in his pyramid law of needs.

Nights weren't the only thing shared between the two. Unbeknownst to them till Geralt was humming in displeasure, they've actually shared a drink of your home made ale. Tybalt commented how it was as good as Kaedwenian stout---perhaps, even better. Mentioning that the beer was probably made of your love for him which made the witcher scrunch his nose for how cheesy it sounded. Tybalt even declared numerical reasons as to why he kept you with him until today because you knew how to make his drunkard self swoon over your culinary skills.

Your cookery abilities were still different and utmost impressive than Geralt's regardless of how he has been used to embellishing his own food alone before. His midget's skills were technically amazing, add up the peculiar recipes that only you know---but, actually existed in earth---your earth. Those recipes that could get his family and him included, humming in deliciousness because it was new for their taste buds.

They were ought to arrive at the abandoned house today. Side by side, Tybalt and Geralt silently rode on their horses. Both of them fed up at the opposite of every presence that galled them to the brim. The witcher blurting out his opinions very frankly at the scowling vampire who was acting like he wasn't there along the hunt.

"You should've just stayed in the castle and played with your army stocks," Geralt grumbled as he held onto Roach's reigns. Tybalt's advancements for what he has done to you never leaving his memories when he clearly remembered the causes about why he was hating him more than to drown in a monster's stinking guts.

"I should've stabbed yer' horse while we were travelling---or feed off to er' horse blood," Tybalt clapped back, sending the remark in the nonchalant way as possible with a sarcastic raise of his brows.

"Leave Roach out of this,"

"Gods, yer' such a strange one, Witcha'!"

The witcher's scowl was as nasty as an Alghoul's bum. Tybalt seemed to be thoroughly embittered for even tagging along with a cold heart that was grudging to even join his hunt. If it weren't for the queen's request, he would never even be within Geralt's area of personal space. Howbeit, people have been trying to frustrate him even more with their sudden decisions erupting from either sides, like a dormant volcano that no one expects to explode.

Grey undertoned house. Ramshackled from the roof till the decaying roots of stones stuck in between their spaces. Close enough to be dilapidated if a wolf would've tried blowing the house down---though, the three little pigs weren't inside for it to hunt. They were closing in towards their destination, Geralt was anticipating this point of their journey; to immediately seek for the witch and to come back sooner than expected.

Yet, his anticipation burned in disappointment by the familiar look of the house rooted in front of them.

He'd heard stories about this abandoned home in Bethleheigm through drunk men in the Inns. They were having a tete-a-tete that it was a boobey trap made by homeless pirates who hadn't gotten back to shore, concealing the home as a place for them to steal one's belongings until they were ripped off their coins. Some tattled that the house was a dragon's nest where a woman lived in and disguised as one that Geralt knew entirely as a bullshit rumor because no dragons would dare pick to stay in the middle of a forest where the house was the only home built through out the map.

The witcher jumped off his horse, hushing Roach down with a soft caress to her mane because she'd begun to neigh.

Tybalt couldn't help but cackle from how he was affectionately eyeing the horse as if she was his other half, "---I wouldn't be surprised if ye' bring yer' horse with ye' while you bed yer' little woman!" he outlaughed and had a hand on his clothed stomach, shaking his head from the witcher's strange gestures with everything.

"Hmm."

Geralt gave him the side eye, endlessly shooting daggers since the moment they bonded together. His comment receiving a lour from the brooding white wolf because of the baldy judgement said.

"Yer' grumpier than usual---like ye' have been in a fight with yer' current flame---is it the tiny lass, anotha' one of your sorceresses or princess?" the Upir quipped with a smirk, hopping off his own horse before giving the house a look. He seemed to waver with a clear of his throat.

Geralt disregarded his ridicule and question with a blessed silence, his mood turning sour from even mentioning you. The weccan's golden eyes scanned all over the tumbledown house, his amber narrowing as he examined what was expected to be a necromage's hideout that he has heard from one of the drunk men's gossips in the inns.

"This abandoned house," he gruffly started beneath his baritone, harsh breathing as Geralt huffed for his disappointment over the founded location. The bind he had with you turning heavier as days go by like he knew you were turning into a melancholic person due to his faults. Hence, it was keeping him more insane than he can ever be because he always seem to offer only mistakes towards his people---where they end up getting hurt because of him.

Which wasn't new in his life.

"---There is no hag in here. Only a Necromage I presume."

Tybalt walked several steps to stop beside Geralt, shrugging his fur-coated shoulders with a curl of his upper lip, "I told ye' to take the longer route. Right path, Witcha'."

"And I told that you are bringing us both in an early demise because Golems and Downers are bound to get in our way,"

The higher vampire kept his mouth shut after that, his foot tapping on the ground before he received a subtle warning of Geralt's glare. The witcher was right about it. Basically, Tybalt was trying to stall over their journey because he knew what exactly was the stratagem kept for a clandestine truth bound never to be known.

Geralt pushed his peculiar fidgets away as it was still sounding so loud with his heightened hearing. He narrowed his eyes upon the engraved words carved inside the four corners of a mettalic flattened surface stuck on the grimy, stoned walls.

"Thou who shall take a step, requires a fee for entrance and something valuable to heart in order to talk with death,"

He silently read the words inside his head. Considering the requests before slightly pursing his lips, the ends looking like a frown but was actually just irrespective of what he was currently thinking. The ramshackle home being surrounded by an invisible strong force field shielded for not any normal man could trespass in without the rules asked. Another form of magic that he knew---though, this wasn't just any simple sign. It was created by sorceresses or wizards to safeguard the whole home for decades end, not risking anyone to touch whoever was inside, like it was keeping something from entering the place.

Geralt gave Tybalt a look while the vampire continued to whistle along the winds, his arms crossed in front of his chest whilst checking his awfully long nails, intentionally ignoring his companion until the witcher tried to grab onto a rock, strongly throwing the stone towards his head until Tybalt used his abnormal abilities, instantly dodging the stone coming forth and sprinting beside Geralt in just a second to see him nodding his head for his crackerjack skills that he seldomly uses.

"Coins." the white haired weccan roughly stated before he heard Tybalt huff and grumble from his demands, giving his palm to him and expecting for a bag of coins to be placed on his hands.

"You have your own, Witcher."

Geralt cocked his head to the side with a feigned smile, shaking his head, "My coins will remain untouched. I'm not risking mine for favors asked."

"Fuck you and yer' coins. I hope you feckin' go slow and die as soon as you're done with us,"

In the end, Tybalt eventually had to fish out a bag of crowns inside his coat, begrudgingly dropping them off on the witcher's awaiting palm who has shrugged his broad shoulders for his easy submission. The words to the engraved poster switching to dust, swirling through the air, changing into an arrow pointing at a brick where Geralt had to slightly touch for it to be pushed back.

Thorny, earthy tone colored vines snaked their way out of the hole. The brick of the old house never being seen as the roots formed a symbol of two palms sticking together like it was asking for alms. Geralt placed the coins on the makeshift hand, slowly slithering its way back to its home.

The house was alive. He was sure of that when he felt the aegis slowly fading away. Its stone doors cracking to slide open for them to enter.

Tybalt hasn't moved a step from his side. He returned to crossing his fairly muscled arms, hearing hasty pads of footsteps shuffling from behind as Geralt halfly turned to see a Hirrika panting on his side, yelping as a way of his bark towards the witcher who had his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and stupefaction; stunned to see the familiar beast who has impressively found him despite of his long travel.

"Kolby."

"Your whore's feral pet," The Upir deadpanned, chuckling nasally like a sarcasm.

Tybalt heard a low growl coming the monster, his fangs shown to the vampire who he could sense and remember, his scent awfully making him remember how he'd hurt his master.

"Watch it." Geralt gruffly mumbled, giving Tybalt the side-eye as he tried monotonely hushing the rare beast like how he'd seen you soothe his annoyance or anger whenever Jaskier irritates Kolby.

"Down, Kolby. No teeth." he gruffly scolded with a raise of his palm.

The Hirikka chattered like a cat as he glared at Geralt's temporary companion, spinning on his own place before howling, his snout tilted at the sky as he yowled, the sound making him wince from how loud it was---too sensitive for his heightened hearing. Though, that didn't stop him from judging his gestures, noticing how he was jumping in his own spot whilst doe eyes stared back.

"He's saying something," the white wolf frankly stated, exhaling a languid breath through his nose because he couldn't understand what he wanted, "---Stay here and don't touch Roach or my Hirikka." he mentioned for Tybalt who appeared to be mentally finding their whole interaction as comedic. Geralt took a step forth, subtly leaving a pat on Kolby's head that eventually calmed him down, making him skip his paws to the side.

The Hirikka jumped to sit on his short tail, his knees bent and close to his chest as he silently watched Tybalt and Geralt conversing together with snarls and insensitive jests until the witcher finally moved away from him, bravefully entering the threshold.

"Where ye' going?" Tybalt called out and made him cease his steps, promptly giving the growling Hirikka his heed to see Geralt judging with his slightly entertained peepers, fighting off the curl of his lips because of how his Hirikka was making the higher vampire uneasy. He was agile but lacked knowledge over the beastiality of the continent. Probably, because of how he has been confined in the castle in an early age and known more politics and schemes more than the lore of monsters.

"To ask the Necromage about that witch,"

"Just like that?"

"She might know her whereabouts. Stay here if you don't want to get your vampire nails grimy,"

Tybalt cocked his head to the side, effusive of cursing out the witcher who had a smirk as he turned his back away from him, continuing his path around and ignoring his cavils.

"Why am I even following ye' around, Mutant?"

Geralt of Rivia entered the perimeters. His newly sharpened swords latched on his wide, broad back. Every step had his chest heavier than usual; bred-in-the-bone like he knew there was something happening to you back in the castle that he couldn't decipher and it made him scowl. The energy in the house even adding more of that deep-seated feeling---the home being cursed as well like some sort of magic was ceasing his advancements from talking to this person living inside.

The place wasn't ruined after all. It was all charmed and just a mere visionary trap or distraction that won't let people fall for even staying close to whoever was inside. Clean and utterly fixed, furnitures sat on their proper rooms which held up a second floor that Geralt didn't plan on exploring for as a presence could be felt while he stood in the middle of the kitchen.

"Hmm. Necromage,"

This person was a woman, Geralt silently stated the obvious inside his head. Her voice was tremulous and surprised to see a gigantuan man standing in the middle of her kitchen which she has never seen before in all her life.

"I am no Necromage," Rohesia calmly informed him, her heed turning distant from the mention, "She...has already died. Cristabell, My lady of the rarest in Bethleheigm---the only necromancer in this kingdom. May her soul rest in peace,"

"---You're the witcher." she paused, taking a gander and examining the white wolf before her. White hair falling on the tips of his shoulder blades. Gold eyes. A scowl prominent on his face. This was the witcher she has been warned about from both parties.

Geralt attempted a cynical smile, seeing that she held more lies and have been doing so for a lifetime, "There's no use of lying."

She was feeble. As old as Eanraig in terms of physical appearance but not his actual age since he was a scholar of the forest. The witcher held onto his medallion, seeming to feel no vibrations over his necklace that he strongly felt before the doors have been opened. His white and black spotted eyebrows furrowed for what singularity was happening.

This was supposed to be the Necromage. Yet, why does she felt human who had no magic to offer?

The hoary, old woman was not lying after all.

Rohesia forced to give him a small smile, walking past him to sit on one of the wooden, dining chairs. Gesturing her palm outwards for Geralt to take a seat that he simply answered with silence as he stood rooted on his spot, assessing what she truly was.

"I offer you no lies of secrecy. My mouth speaks nothing but the truth for I am just a mortal who thrives to live peacefully in the continent," she honestly answered his curiosity and judgements which made him nod at her uprightness---making his job easier for him.

The woman really was no necromage at all.

"A mortal who stands for her virtues. Hmm."

"Why are you here, Witcher?"

His glower was permanent even as he sauntered to where she was, standing upright and leaning a hand on the top portion of her dining chairs whilst he patiently explained.

"To find the hag who has cursed prince Althalos of Kaedwen."

Rohesia only offered a small, genuine smile. Her shaky laugh erupting through her chest because she knew this was the man who her former witcher and lover give fair warning to when the Kaedweni started their murdering plots upon fellow weccans who fall for their crimes. Vesemir never wanted to be involved with their delinquencies, explains his periodic leave in the kingdom---his constant visits for the woman seldomly occurring since Nilfgaard has attacked and conquered another domain after Cintra.

"Are you doing this because Vesemir has told you so?"

Geralt went on with his speechless talk, low humming followed suit for the flabbergast he felt over hearing his senior mentor in the art of their kind. The end of his lips subtly turning the opposite of a lour, relieved to suddenly hear his name through another person's mouth---a woman he probably had a relationship with; a former flame and mortal that Geralt least expect for Vesemir to entertain because of the conducts he had told him prior into becoming one skilled witcher.

It is that being involved with mortals and even having a soft spot in the job won't make them any better.

"Does he visit often?"

She ignored his question with a simple, wholehearted feeble laugh. Her circumvent obvious that Rohesia wanted not to talk about Vesemir after he has chosen to leave her for coins and another woman---another mortal years ago, thinking that because she aged badly was one of the reasons why he chose something better than to be with her. Hence, they were even known to be monsters of their own kind. Monsters who slay other beasts in exchange for coins. It was what she believed them to be---yet, she knew to herself that if Vesemir would come back to her, she would still accept him with all her mortal heart.

She dryly coughed, avoiding his eyes and covering her mouth with a tightened fist that Geralt quickly knew she was physically sick just by the looks of it.

"If you...still want to live and take your coin, turn back around and forget that you have stumbled upon this place forever."

The latter shook his head. Determined to find answers from this elderly human who knew his mentor and a fatherly figure he had been to his life. He believed Rohesia knew more than just Vesemir based on how she was trying to push him away.

"Where's the hag?"

"You cannot find the witch anywhere even out in Kaedwen, Geralt."

He was impressed. Geralt raised both of his eyebrows, pursing his lips with a tilt of his head that she knew his name regardless of not introducing himself yet.

"Vesemir has obviously told you more about me,"

She ignored his statement again, grabbing onto the ends of her dirty Tunic as she stood, saying her words firmly and with finality. Never knowing if her decision over dropping out hints would be good for her isolation from everyone---isolation and somehow imprisoned inside a house. The necromage being her sentinel, a guard given orders that she wouldn't escape and try to spill secrets that will ruin such plans. Howbeit, she still had high respects for Cristabell who had been too kind for her that she has brought Rohesia with her whenever she was out for some business.

"The witch you have been finding has been around the castle for decades."

Perhaps, it was time for the truth to set out free because Rohesia knew she had only weeks to live in the continent. Revenge pushing her through the decision she wanted for trying to keep her contained, watching her every move; ruining more of her wrecked life.

"I have been the queen's loyal servant. After she has given birth to Prince Althalos, he has already been cursed when he was a bairn." Pause. "---Sorceress Ingrith has managed to sneak into their quarters and cast the curse by whispering such spell and gaining a tiny drop of his blood. I've all seen her cantrips and heard them as I came back to guard the prince in his sleep. The wail of an offspring shall bring despair for the royal family,"

The sorceress' name felt like a crime to be told. Heaviness in her chest finally unleashing after decades of being caught up with the lies she was telling people who asked or went to gather information as to who has cursed the prince; finding the witch and ending up dying from the hands of her womanly guard. Cristabell recently died from the hands of the last witcher who she knew as Gerd, the necromage dying after their battle whilst she tried to fight for her cousin's trangression---continuing doing so for the sake of her selfish reasons.

"---She...she was also the king's mistress before the queen has given birth to Prince Althalos while she also gained her position. I may never know if it was made from jealousy over the queen's position. Though, it is their life that I promised to stay away from. Only sorceress Ingrith may reverse the curse or happen to know how,"

A beat of silence wrapped them both after Rohesia's candor. Geralt's mouth forming a deeper scowl than ever as he loudly sighed, languidly blinking in weary for being tricked by the sorceress and her right hand, Tybalt of Touissant. His jaw began to clench for who stood outside of the house, the higher vampire making him mad for leading him on circles---the cycle wouldn't have ended if he chose to go forth with his suggested path. It was why he was trying to lead him towards a swamp filled with monsters than the shorter route because the truth was with this rumored woman.

"Should've known."

He deeply grumbled begrudgingly, blaming himself for not thinking it through. His time wasted for you to be saved and taken out of the palace. If only he wasn't as pale as Ivory, his face would've been empurpled with fury for what they've made him appear to be---an idiot or for whatever bullshit they can call him.

"You're coming with me..." Geralt deeply said before he was cut off to her introduction of name.

"The name's Rohesia, Witcher."

He nodded back to the lady, going on with his ceased sentence with solicit, "---Back to the castle,"

Rohesia saw him walk closer to her, face to face with the infamous butcher she has heard tales about. The butcher of Blaviken who has managed to slaughter goons of Princess Renfri's hooligans and also earning another moniker of being a butcher of Ard Carraigh. Kaedwen's capital. The name would eventually spread throughout his kind because of how Kaer Morhen was close by. Her eyes catching onto the badge latched on the rain-guard of his sword.

"I have been told to never step foot again or I shall be put into death,"

"Do I need to beg for your compliance and offer protection?"

"What's in it for you and me?"

The witcher deeply sighed, shifting his amber away from her as Geralt looked withdrawn, his next words sounding like a mumble, dubious of his own bluntness. Disbelieving that he could hear his own voice say the words like an echo of his consciousness.

"You get to save the castle from anguish," pause. "---and you get to save the life of someone dear to me,"

"A woman I assume---your woman," Rohesia sounded so surprised, staring him down in incredulity, "---Is she royal? another sorceress too? a mutant?"

"A mere...mortal," he hesitated to honestly say, his eyes filled with a memory he truly can't forget. Your skeptical voice stuck inside his head when he remembered the first time he met you till the moment you told him how you suited to be a queen.

Geralt clearly remembered his reaction and teasing reply. Telling you how you suited more to be called a midget. His midget. Yet, now you were being treated like his queen where he would kiss the ground you walk on no matter how in denial he gets.

"---Perhaps...a queen to her kingdom in her rightful dimension," he was caught in his train of thoughts, never seeing the stupefaction in Rohesia's eyes over what dimension he meant---having no clue for his words. She could see what Vesemir once was like until life has ruined everything for her, including the sorceress corrupting and controlling the people and castle of Kaedwen.

"Learning to love doesn't suit your kind, Witcher."

"It's because it isn't what you think it is."

Rohesia shook her head for his lies, he was thoroughly unaware of the feelings sipping through his words once he mentioned you. This witcher believed that he wasn't capable to love nor emit feelings just like how her previous lover have been. A typical characteristic of his own kind. Denial and the feeling of being unworthy of recognizing such emotion was making him sound insensitive. But, people who could read others can see through him regardless of how he tries not to, "Deny it all you want. To us humans, it is. Love as many people assume."

"---you're still human after all. As far as I believe for your kind, Geralt of Rivia. Sorceress Ingrith might be glad to see me again soon---I hope."

Don’t hesitate to message me if you don’t want to be included in the taglist anymore, bb’s. I won’t be mad. Thank you. 

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[deathonyourtongue]

Winter Passing | Chapter 7

Summary: After car accident leaves him at the base of a mountain with no sign of civilization for miles, a breakup is the least of Henry’s problems. Just as death’s icy fingers begin to coil around him, salvation presents itself in the form of an old cabin in a clearing. Despite years of being told fairy tales and ghost stories that warn against such things, he uses his last of his strength to reach the cottage. When he wakes, he finds not a demon, but an angel, long removed from the insanity of the modern world. Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x OFC Word Count: 3K Warnings: A microscopic amount of smut. And an apparition that’s a little gory. A/N : Who wants to guess which actress plays Tabitha?  Like what I do? Buy me a coffee (or a commission)!

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Over the next few days, Olivia and Henry fell into a pattern. She’d wake before him, usually to a report of the night’s happenings from Dyster, who’d taken to patrolling ever since Tiago had come and gone. By the time Henry woke, Olivia was making breakfast, and the two would share quiet conversation about everything and nothing. She learned he was an actor who’d had something of a big break, and--up until the accident--had been looking for the perfect follow-up script to keep his momentum going. Henry learned what Olivia was willing to share about her practice and her past, but overall, she remained something of a mystery to him. While that was usually a turn-off for him, with Olivia, it only added to the entrancing nature of her and the place she called home. 

Once Henry’s injuries healed completely, he began pulling his weight around the property. He became the early bird, always up and outside when Olivia woke to Dyster’s pecking at her window. She’d never asked, but without fail she’d find him either chopping wood, or taking care of the animals. Though she often wondered what his motivations were for being so helpful, it didn’t take long for Olivia to realize that he simply enjoyed being busy and useful, a quality that made a bigger impression on her than his smile or charm ever could have.

“Good morning, love,” Henry panted as he came in, stomping the snow off his boots and wiping them as best he could before trying to toe out of them with a stack of wood in his arms. 

“Here, let me take these,” Olivia smiled, not missing how rosy his cheeks got whenever he exerted himself outside in the nipping cold. If she were truthful with herself, Olivia would admit to having more than just a passing fancy for the man who’d been on death’s door not two weeks prior; she was truly starting to fall for the handsome Brit, and each day they spent in each other’s company, her heart opened just a little further. 

Taking the wood from Henry, she moved to the living room, placing the cut logs on the top of the already-neat pile of dried wood. Olivia couldn’t stop her smile as she watched Henry make a beeline for the kitchen, ruffling the top of Gunnar’s head absently as he peeked at everything that was cooking on the stove. 

“You outdo yourself every day, darling. I can’t wait!” Henry said with genuine awe and excitement, his blue eyes brighter than ever. His expression sent a rush through Olivia, her heart fluttering and her own cheeks ruddying as she moved to check on breakfast, gently nudging him out of her way and earning herself a chuckle in the process. 

“Won’t have to wait much longer. Food’s ready,” she smiled, Olivia laughing sweetly as she watched Henry bolt into action, grabbing plates, cups, and cutlery. By the time she reached the table with the skillet, Henry had already poured their tea and had her plate in hand, ready to serve her first. 

It was the little things--like always serving her first--that became endearing; things Olivia knew she’d miss once spring came and Henry was able to go back to his normal life. He was a thoughtful man without any need for validation, and while she figured that part of it was that she’d saved his life, Olivia liked to think that it was mostly just the product of being raised by someone just as thoughtful and caring. 

“Thank you,” she murmured softly, Olivia’s eyes closing as she felt Henry’s large hand smooth over her hair, her expression one she rarely wore. So rarely in fact, that even Gunnar noticed, the husky cocking his head to one side in confusion. For the first time in a long time, Olivia seemed content.

“Of course. Thank you for cooking,” Henry replied without hesitation, his smile warm as he served himself. 

They ate in amicable silence, bites occasionally interrupted by a glance up at one another, glances that quickly shifted back to their plates, their smiles ear-to-ear. Though neither could deny their attraction, neither was ready to make the first move, so they danced around it, taking what they could in secret smiles, little touches, and--in another quickly-formed routine--solo time spent thinking of the other while they worked out their desires in the most primal of ways.

Alone time had become just as much a part of their routine as anything else, and like clockwork, when breakfast was over, Olivia headed outside to forage, while Henry moved to bathe. Though it was an unspoken agreement, it wasn’t without its perils, and more than once Olivia had walked back inside either to the sounds of his moans, or to him, still wet, moving from the bath to his room to dress. It was frustrating, to say the least, but made for quick work on her part when Henry moved outside to finish whatever chore he’d started before breakfast.  

When they’d both had their fill, life would return to normal. With no TV or electricity, they spent the daylight hours reading, writing, and occasionally playing a board game. It was a peaceful existence, one which, aside from the company of Henry, went largely unchanged for Olivia. It was a pleasant surprise to not have to veer so far from her routine as to turn her world upside down. Even her daily practice went unchanged, as Henry seemed to have a preternatural ability to tell when she was ready to use her altar or crack open her book, and without fail he would head to his room to nap or read in bed, always with a warm smile and a gentle touch as he made his way. 

Nighttime was when the cottage came alive. It always began with dinner, Henry taking over cooking duties while Olivia handled the drinks. With her hand-crank record player providing a quiet soundtrack, the two danced, drank, and ate without a care. The more they drank, the more affectionate they became with one another, and more often than not, the two would end up on the couch, snuggling together as the snow fell outside. The combination of Henry’s charms and the alcohol flowing through her veins, brought Olivia’s walls down further and further. Each night, her carefully guarded history came out, chapter by chapter, a bedtime story for Henry, who always lay listening intently, as she played with his curls. Though more open, Olivia’s tales were always about her personal history, never about her life as it related to her craft, and Henry knew it would take more than a few drunken evenings for him to earn that part of her story.

“What’s something you believed when you were younger that you know to be false now?” Henry asked, his eyes closed in pure bliss as Olivia’s fingers traced lightly over his face, releasing muscles he didn’t even realize had been tense as he lay with his head in her lap. 

“Love magic. Like any other little girl, I believed in all the syrupy-sweet hag tales of frogs turning into princes, true love’s kiss, finding ‘the one’. All a load of crap when you grow up and realize people are cruel to one another and that no one truly cares about your heart if it gets in their way. Even the ‘spells’ I cast back then were silly and sappy.”

“Like what?” Henry asked, his smile ear-to-ear as he opened his eyes to gaze up at Olivia. With his expression so tender and sweet, Olivia found herself saying the words on autopilot, one hand placed over Henry’s heart while the other continued to outline his features.

“By the loving heart of Hecate, by fire, air, earth, and sea, please draw my love to me. Someone to love with all my soul, once we’re together we’ll both be whole. I’ll give my love freely, I’ll love him completely, please Hecate, bring my love to me. As I do say, so mote it be!” Each phrase matched a line traced over Henry’s face, and it wasn’t until she’d closed the spell that Olivia realized what she’d done. Waiting for a tell that the spell had worked, she felt relief when she couldn’t feel a change on the wind. A blush colored her face as Henry looked up at her once more, a gentility in his expression that she couldn’t get enough of. 

“Silly or not, that’s a lovely sentiment, darling. There’s nothing wrong in asking for the love you deserve.” Sitting up, Henry made Olivia feel light as a feather as he picked her up and set her in his lap with ease. His hand was warm as he cupped her face, his eyes searching hers. “It may not have worked when you were a child, but now that you’re a grown woman, I’d chance it to say things might go differently.”

Without another word, Henry leaned in and pressed his lips to Olivia’s. It felt as though the earth stood still, Olivia’s heart feeling too big for her chest as she returned the kiss with the utmost passion. Allowing the dam that held her feelings to crumble, she slung her arms around Henry’s neck, getting lost in the softness of his lips and the tickle of his beard.

Henry felt as though he were floating, the experience of kissing Olivia different from any other woman he’d been with. Her lips were nectar-sweet, and the scent of all the herbs she worked with enveloped him in a warmth unlike any other. He felt his heart skip a beat as she settled in his embrace, silently showing that she was just as much at peace with him, as he was with her. The words of the spell echoed in his mind, and Henry couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, knowing at least one passage had come to pass; it seemed as though, in the few weeks they’d known each other and traipsed around their affections for one another, their first kiss truly had made them whole. 

“Yes, hello officer. I’d like to report a missing person. Yes, my boyfriend, Henry. He’s been missing for...almost three weeks now? When did I last see him? Oh, well, the day he moved out. You see, we had a little…Spat and he thought it meant we were over, but that was hardly the case. Yes, I’m very worried. Describe him? Well, he’s quite handsome, in the Prince Charming kind of way. Dark hair that curls something awful if he doesn’t keep it trimmed. Blue eyes. Tall, at least six feet. Muscular, but not a body builder by any means. He’s British. I last saw him pulling away in his Escalade--well, not his to be truthful. It was mine and I sold it to him for a dollar when his old car broke down...Oh, right, of course. He said he’d found an apartment on the north side of town. Why he’d want to make the commute to New York that much harder for himself, I’ll never understand. Oh? Yes, he’s an actor, if you can call it that. I called it a vain pursuit, but that’s just me. No, no family here, I’m afraid. I’m his family. Yes, of course! My number is…”

Tabitha Norwood’s voice was sickly-sweet, her smile beaming as she spoke to the detective she’d been transferred to. Standing in her kitchen, she pressed the phone to her ear with her shoulder, her perfectly-manicured red nails an accent to her delicate fingers, which busied themselves with tightly closing the lid of a small jar. When finished, she placed the jar by her open window, and washed her hands, her sphynx, Fluffy, jumping onto her shoulder just as the detective hung up. 

“Don’t worry, boy. We’ll find him. He can’t have gone very far.” She smiled, tucking one side of her copper bob behind her ear, her smile never once faltering.

“Oh fuck, Henry! Yes, right there! Don’t stop!” Olivia’s back arched high off the mattress as Henry’s hips slammed hard into hers, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Her voice hoarse from the filthiest, most orgasmic foreplay she’d ever had, she was certain Henry would be her total undoing, tea leaves be damned. Every stroke of his length inside her was heavenly, and Olivia didn’t hesitate to plant Henry firmly at the top of her ‘Best I Ever Had’ list, mentally kicking Henry’s predecessor off the podium, unable to remember what her other lovers even looked like as her new love brought her to the mountaintop.

She came with his name on her lips, Henry following suit, his body trembling as visibly as hers was. They lay still connected for some time, indulging in afterglow kisses and feather-light touches, both Henry and Olivia thrilled by how the night had turned out. 

Were it not for Dyster’s sudden pecking at the window and Gunnar’s alarm-growl, everything would have been perfect. Henry and Olivia both jumped, but for very different reasons, Henry startled by the noise and Olivia on full alert, understanding her animals’ calls better than anyone. Pulling out of her as gently as he could, Henry scrambled to put his pants on while Olivia wrapped her robe around her body, moving to the window once she was covered. 

Though her first instinct was to open the window to speak with her raven, Dyster flew away just as her hand went for the sill and in doing so, allowed Olivia’s gaze to see what had caused all the ruckus.

Outside, by her altar, stood a woman in white. Despite a veil covering her face, Olivia recognized her immediately. A shiver ran through her and tears filled her eyes within seconds. Stuck in place, she watched as the woman held up a grotesque effigy of a child. Deformed in every possible way, the infant’s cries were terrifying and made it clear it was in pain. 

In her practice, Olivia asked for very little, preferring instead to give from her heart, and receive only that which the goddess and the lesser gods she worshipped deemed suitable for her to receive. This was a clear message that someone was displeased.

Olivia jumped when Henry’s hand wrapped around her shoulder, and without needing to think, she pushed him away and out of sight. “Stay there. Whatever you hear next, stay where you are.” 

There was no room for discourse as Olivia moved to action, yanking open her nightstand and pulling out a long test tube with a cork stopper. Stepping through her door, she opened the tube and let the contents spill into a neat line on the floor. Olivia hopped over it and did the same with the window sill both in her room and the attached bathroom. With one final line at the bathroom door, she changed out of her robe and into a dress, wiped her eyes, and headed downstairs.

Henry sat on the bed, eyes unblinking as he listened for every minute sound he could make out. At first, he heard only the child and the creaks of the house as Olivia moved around downstairs. Gunnar’s bark and Dyster’s cawing came next, both animals clearly agitated beyond reason. Finally, he heard Olivia’s voice, stronger and more firm than he’d ever heard it before. 

“GO BACK FROM WHENCE YOU CAME, EVIL SPIRIT! YOUR MASK FOOLS NO ONE! LEAVE THIS PLACE IN PEACE!” 

There was no stopping Henry from bolting to the window as an ear-piercing shriek cut through the clearing, and though he might have brushed things off as simply his overactive imagination before, there was no denying what he saw. As Olivia threw a bucket of salt in the direction of the woman, she began to dissolve, reminding Henry of cotton candy in water. Closing his eyes tightly, he pressed the heels of his palms over them, willing the image of the woman’s unhinged jaw and oozing mouth to leave his mind as quickly as it entered. 

After a few minutes, Olivia came back inside, and it took only a moment for Henry to realize she was sobbing. Quickly, he moved downstairs, his heart breaking for Olivia as he found her crumpled on the floor by the hearth. Hearing his footsteps, she looked up with a hitched inhale, quickly wiping her eyes in embarrassment. 

“Who was that, love?” Henry asked, stopping at the foot of the stairs, his face making it clear that his only concern was for her and her well-being. 

“That…” Olivia’s lower lip quivered and more tears slid down her cheeks as she fought to speak. “That was an apparition with my mother’s face.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fic #fic #deathonyourtongueoriginals #winter passing

[thecreaturecodex]

Groac’h

Image © Jeanne Prigent, accessed at her ArtStation here

[It’s apparently walrus week on the World Tour, as we have a second tusked aquatic monster. The groac’h is a Breton fairy, sometimes kindly and sometimes wicked as fey so often are. Way back in the day, someone at Paizo (was it James Jacobs? Jason Buhlman?) said that hag was a category not tied to monster type (as seen in the night hag), and that fey hags were a definite possibility. That was not actualized in PF1e. So I figured that the groac’h would be a good candidate for a fey hag.]

Groac’h CR 9 CN Fey This thin humanoid looks like an old woman, with long clawed fingers and long webbed toes. Two tusks like those of a walrus grow from her mouth.

Hags are products of the Material Plane, but due to their magic powers and cruel curiosity may end up on other planes. A cadre of sea hags moved to the First World in order to access the strange magic and ebullient life force found there. Over time, some of these hags changed into the groac’h. Groac’h are not as wicked as other hags are, but are just as capricious. They are most interested in breaking up power structures, from kingdoms to families, and may do so with gifts, guile or magical force. They are obsessed with politeness, and minding etiquette may mean the difference between leaving a groac’h’s company with magical gifts, and never leaving.

A groac’h does not like to fight fair, and tries to ensure that any combat she enters is of her own volition. Most groac’hs carry at least one net, sometimes a magical one, and catch victims in it. While the captive struggles to break free, the groac’h uses her magic on them—transforming an entangled victim into a fish or frog is a popular tactic. Although groac’hs are not as hideous to look upon as a sea hag, they can channel the same evil eye curse to disable their enemies. Groac’hs rarely fight to the death; if a battle is turning against them, they transform into a faster shape or create a fog cloud to hinder pursuit.

Most groac’hs are somewhat vain, and spend more time in shapeshifted form than their natural appearance. Beautiful maidens, majestic swans and sleek dolphins are popular forms to take. They collect vast amounts of treasure, but are free about giving away or trading it to further their goals or enhance their prestige. They eat mostly seafood—captives transformed into fish are often served to guests as a power play. A groac’h is still hag enough to join a coven, but usually their covens are of three groac’hs. A coven with at least one groac’h member adds the following spell-like abilities to their coven magic: fluid form, freezing sphere, summon monster VI (animals with a swim speed or elementals with the water subtype only).

Groac’h              CR 9 XP 6,400 CN Medium fey (aquatic, extraplanar, shapechanger) Init +6; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, mistsight, Perception +13 Defense AC 23, touch 17, flat-footed 15 (+6 Dex, +1 dodge, +5 natural) hp 112 (15d6+60) Fort +9, Ref +15, Will +11 DR 10/cold iron; SR 20 Defensive Abilities evasion Offense Speed 30 ft., swim 50 ft. Melee 2 claws +15 (1d6+3), bite +15 (2d4+3/x4) Ranged masterwork net +16 (entangle) Special Attacks augmented critical, evil eye, spell captive Spell-like Abilities CL 12th, concentration +16 (+20 casting defensively) At will—fog cloud, hydraulic torrent, ray of enfeeblement (DC 15) 3/day—bestow curse (DC 17), quickened blur, control water, suggestion (DC 17) 1/day— baleful polymorph (DC 19), dominate person (DC 19), geyser (DC 19) Statistics Str 16, Dex 23, Con 18, Int 15, Wis 10, Cha 19 Base Atk +7; CMB +13; CMD 30 Feats Agile Maneuvers, Combat Casting, Deceitful, Defensive Combat Training, Dodge, Exotic Weapon Proficiency (net) (B), Iron Will, Quicken SLA (blur), Weapon Finesse Skills Acrobatics +19, Bluff +21, Climb +16, Diplomacy +17, Disguise +21, Intimidate +17, Knowledge (local, nature) +15, Perception +13, Sense Motive +13, Stealth +19, Swim +24 Languages Aquan, Common, Sylvan SQ amphibious, change shape (animal or humanoid, polymorph) Ecology Environment any coastal and underground (First World) Organization solitary or coven (1-3 mixed hags) Treasure double standard (masterwork net, other treasure) Special Abilities Augmented Critical (Ex) A groac’h’s bite attack deals x4 damage on a successful critical hit. Evil Eye (Su) Three times per day, a groac’h can cast her dire gaze upon any single creature within 30 feet. The target must succeed on a DC 21 Will save or be staggered as strange nebulous distress and a gnawing sense of impending doom plagues the victim. If a groac’h uses her evil eye on someone already afflicted by this curse, the victim must make a DC 21 Fortitude save or be overwhelmed with fright and collapse into a comatose state for 3 days. Each day that passes, the comatose victim must make a DC 21 Fortitude save or perish. The evil eye is a mind influencing fear effect. The save DCs are Charisma-based. Evil Eye Curse: Gaze—failed save; save Will DC 21; frequency 1/day; effect staggered (or fall comatose if already under the effects of the evil eye). Spell Captive (Su) A creature entangled in a net thrown by a groac’h suffers a -2 penalty to all saving throws against her evil eye and spell-like abilities.

#groac'h #breton folklore #french folklore #hag #fey #world tour #pathfinder 1e

[ofsvnlightt]

Was that [AMANDA ARCURI]? Oh no no, that was just [JESTER LAVORRE], a [CANON CHARACTER] from [CRITICAL ROLE]. They are [UNKNOWN/ LOOKS TWENTY FOUR] years old and [ARE] aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long. 

** this is an updated intro bc the one i did when i first brought her in was....bad. i didn’t know her very well yet,  i had pretty much just started watching campaign 2 and brought her in with memories only up through episode 49 or something. now she’s fully aware!

because of the amount of content, this is going to be a looong intro. (i’m actually sorry for how long this is..i think it’s longer than vex’s)

all hidden washington info will be towards the bottom if you don’t want to read everything.

background: • jester is from a d&d stream called critical role (thursdays 7pm pst on twitch and youtube!) • she’s played by laura bailey (like vex!) • she has a (i think?) slavic accent just search jester critical role and you can find a clip of laura/jester talking (or here’s on of my favorite videos) • she is a blue tiefling! though with the magic of the city, the only things that stayed are her fangs and blue hair. - • she grew up in nicodranas in the lavish chateau, a very fancy inn where her mother is a performer known as the ruby of the sea, and works as a courtesan. • she stayed in her room most of her childhood, thus growing up pretty sheltered due to her mother’s job • she worships a deity called the traveler. he's not actually a god or deity..but that's a long story. (see: ep 108) also [c1 spoiler] his name is artagan and he’s fey. he was able to leave the fey realm and come to the material plane because vox machina created a gateway for him. he met them in either ep 58 or 59 of c1 but i think made the deal later in the campaign. • after a prank gone wrong, jester had to flee nicodranas. she met a half orc (fjord) from port demali, which is also along the menagerie coast, and later human monk (beau) on the amber crossroads and ventured to trostenwald together where they met a few more strangers who together they eventually became the mighty nein • the m9 consists of 7 people her, a cleric -- abilities beauregard, a human monk fjord, a half orc warlock-paladin  caleb, a human wizard nott veth, a goblin halfling rogue mollymauk, a tiefling blood hunter yasha, an asimar barbarian  and caduceus, a firbolg cleric - this is straying from her backstory a little, but here are a few important points that will explain all the strikethroughs above SPOILERS FOR CAMPAIGN 2 (eps 91-93, 26, 28, 111) • when the nein first met, veth was a goblin who went by nott the brave. during a goblin attack in her (halfling) village, she killed some important goblin’s spouse and a hag came in and drowned and cursed her, changing her into a goblin. after attempting a transmogrification spell and it not working, nott shares some of her backstory and beau realizes the hag is the same one that her father talked to. going back to her home of kamaordah to get more information, the nein find out where the hag lives and pay her a visit. after an insane play by jester, the curse is broken and caleb tries the spell again later in nicodranas. this time it works and nott becomes her true sellf, veth brenatto, a halfling. • molly was an original member of the mighty nein. after jester, fjord and yasha were taken one night, the remaining members tracked down who took them, a group called the iron shepherds. cutting them off on their way back to their base, molly, beau, caleb, nott, and a temporary ally keg, battle with them. though aware of his low hp, molly activates his scimitars, getting a hit or two in before going unconscious. the leader of the iron shepherds, lorenzo, gets the final blow on molly, stabbing him through the chest, thus killing him.  • a day or two later, heading through the forest, the small group come upon the blooming grove. there, they meet caduceus clay, who joins them in saving jester, fjord, and yasha from the iron shepherds. • much later, the nein find out about something called the “eyes of nine”/somnovem/nonagon, and travel along the glory run road once again, they make a stop at molly’s grave, planning to speak with dead and see if he knew anything about it because he had nine eye tattoos on his body. when they arrive, his grave has been messed with and his body gone. jester scries on him, seeing him in furs and a snowy environment. they later find out this is lucien, molly’s “original” self. he is nothing like molly at all and is more focused on trying to release the somnovem - a portion of aeor, an ancient city - gone mad and floating in the astral sea. at this point in the campaign (ep 130), lucien is still a threat and the nein are still pursuing him, trying to stop him from bringing the city to the material plane. - -  i literally have no idea how to condense 130 episodes of content (~4hrs per ep) to give you a good overarching tldr of jester’s time with the nein..and so to not make this post a mile long, i’m actually going to put it in a second post (which really defeats the whole point of doing this new intro post but whatevs) in washington:

how long has your character been here? 5-6 months now!

what is your character's job? unemployed/freelance artist

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom? the most recent episode, 130!! (instead of 126)

has any magic affected your character? Nope!

any other information: here’s a synopsis of what happened in episode 130 and where i’m taking jester from as of right now (instead of making an ‘updated memories’ post lol): spoilers, obviously escaping the fire plane, jester plane shifts everyone back to the material plane, to zadash. there, she leads them to the evening nip, where below the gentleman (her father) heads his operations, hoping he can watch over her mother and veth’s husband and son, giving them a safe house while the nein head back to aeor to hopefully defeat the floating city/somnovem and the tomb takers. some parent trap-y shenanigans ensue and after a couple hours, the nein head to the blooming grove. while the savilirwood as a whole is still corrupted by an unknown source, the corruption in and around the grove is gone. (seemingly healed by the crystals referenced in ep 96) while this is great, it doesn’t line up with the dream that caduceus got just 2.5 days ago. whatever these dreams or premonitions are, his family members are also getting them. this is concerning to them of course, but mostly calliope, his older sister. cad storms out, she follows.  before bedding down for the night, everyone kind of goes their separate ways for a little bit within the grove. the mood overall is grim, most all of them thinking this fight in aeor isn’t going to end well. putting on a brave face, jester promised her mama she’d come back, but she doesn’t think she will. she has a small conversation with fjord and asks if he’d like her to send a message to vandran or scry on him. he says no because he’s going to see him, being that rock and voice of determination and positivity jester needs in her time of uncertainty. 

#hw: intro #🍭 little sapphire :: jester #death tw #stabbing tw #cr spoilers #long post tw

[dungeonmalcontent]

Flopsy And Fatherhood

I have been thinking a lot about one of my characters lately. If you don't want to hear about Flopsy, the bugbear bounty hunter and his journey of learning about fatherhood, scroll past this.

Flopsy was one of my first character concepts to see actual game play. Like most good characters, at least the kind that you get attached to, he was a joke character. I was testing the limits of what you could do at low level without weapons. I wanted to play a brute that could punch around corners, and it was gonna be silly. I based his appearance after a few different animated characters with long arms and floppy ears; namely Fiskerton from The Secret Saturdays and Antylamon from the Digimon franchise (don't judge me). He was supposed to be this awkwardly scary and fluffy monster that looked like he could be both cuddled and capable of snapping a few necks on a whim. And as a bonus, after the first session, his voice became modeled after Ron Perlman (granted I'm bad at voices) because he just kept becoming more of a character as he went.

He started out exactly as intended, except the DM and another player threw in a twist. My backstory wasn't really fleshed out yet, and I was asked if I was okay with Flopsy being the adopted sibling of the other players character. I have no clue if that was something the DM did on purpose for story reasons, but it has literally changed everything.

The shared backstory that I developed with the other player led to Flopsy and Thokka (the other PC) being the adopted children of a zealot monk. After slaughtering both of our villages he had attempted to Pygmalion some of the children young enough not to realize what had happened. After mostly failing the tests of our adopted father and suffering abuse for being monstrous creatures only fit for fighting, Flopsy burned the hut with the monk in it. Other zealous monks from the order noticed, gave chase to the two monster children, and the two were separated in the chaos. Thokka, a tiefling half-orc, ended up in the care of a monastery of drunken monks that couldn't care less what she looked like, and Flopsy ended up in the woods for a few years. And then a crime ridden city for a few years. And then he joined a bounty hunting guild. After a few bounties he found himself inexplicably in the same place as his sister, and that's where the campaign began.

It isn't a very complicated backstory, but it created an opportunity that our DM definitely took advantage of after a few sessions. Our game started as a job to find out what happened to a professor at a local college, and when it turned out that she had been killed by a night hag the job was basically finished. The hag escaped, but had to leave her ritual unfinished, and admittedly, Flopsy had tried to seduce the hag while it had been disguised. We all got the impression that the hag would be the BBEG for the campaign.

This is leading somewhere, I promise.

After a few other jobs, our party wound up in a small town that had been the center of some crop rot and pestilence that had spread to the surrounding area. The cause of the problem was a warlock who had used his granddaughter as a focus for demons and demonic magic to seep into the world. In the parties attempt to stop the demon's influence, we got into a fight we were quickly starting to lose. We had the demon in front of us, a collapsed little girl off to the side, and countless shadow imps all around us. Flopsy was about to go down and he was becoming increasingly less useful in the fight, so he had two plans on what he was going to do when his hit points went into the red. Plan B) Use an unknown planar artifact on himself, killing himself to potentially drag the demon and its influence back to the hells. But that is a last resort, because plan A) kill the girl and attempt to sever the demons connection to the prime material plane, seemed much easier to try first.

And when Flopsy was about to go down, he tried plan A.

And it failed.

When Flopsy realized what he'd done, and that he couldn't undo it, he was a mess. He went down to 0 hit points a few times while the cleric tried to keep him on his feet best as he could. And when the demon managed to get away with a sliver of health left, Flopsy didn't give the party the option to think of a new plan and he set the building they were all in on fire. They made it out a window with the girl's body, and the demon presumably died.

The town's problems were solved, after some other fussing, and the girl was revived through the use of gentle repose and revivify. Flopsy learned that the girl, Kara, had been abused by her grandfather and when the party realized the town did not want anything to do with her anymore, Flopsy was the first to propose the party adopt her. Or at the very least, find her a new home in a different town.

Something important to know about Flopsy, is that he is primarily driven by money. He was raised heartless, and after all he had gone through he only cared about the resources he needed to survive. That meant gold. And he was good at hunting down criminals for money. So long as he could keep himself safe, nothing else mattered.

So when Flopsy killed Kara, something changed. He realized that he was essentially killing a younger version of himself in order to spare an older version. He had further broken a battered little girl just to try and save himself. It was so many levels of realization. He had become his father, the abusive monk that only cared about survival and cleansing the world of "evil." And for the first time since he had killed that monk, he felt the urge to protect something other than himself... and it felt more powerful than the urge to protect himself. I mark this as the moment that his alignment changed from true neutral, to neutral good. Though it took some time for him to realize that.

And so when Flopsy actually realized that he had no idea what he was doing as a parent figure, he actually took the time to try and figure out what Kara needed to learn to survive. He tried to teach her to fight, to reason. The cleric taught her how to handle some of the latent magic she was left with. Thokka showed her how to have fun and enjoy life. And things were good for a few sessions. It was a strange experience to have a ward (basically) in a d&d game, I imagine it was close to how the critical role cast felt about Kiri (the similar spelling is incidental, I promise). But it allowed for a great deal of character growth and family development. It was great for Flopsy, because he had something to reign him in and prevent him from fighting in his normal reckless ride or die fashion... or that might drive him to fight even harder than he normally would.

This wouldn't be such a big deal or worth the amount of time I'm putting into this, if it weren't for this last part. The DM, intelligent woman that she is, pulled a sneaky on the party. While the party was out fighting another demon, the hag abducted Kara. And that sent Flopsy off. I had never anticipated this fictional, silly looking, angry fur ball to become so real and motivated. It felt very personal. This hag that Flopsy had flirted off an on with through her nightmare haunting ability, had become a real evil threat. This little girl that he had grown to care for and consider at least to be another little sister that he could actually help and save, was taken from him. And to make matters worse, the hag intended to experiment on her; the same thing that had been done to Flopsy.

I don't know where it will go from there. This game in particular moves pretty slowly, which isn't a bad thing. I feel like I get to savor all the parts of it. If nothing else, I'm very excited to see what this sort of situation will drive Flopsy to do. Will he swear an oath of vengeance and take some levels in paladin? Because an unarmed barbarian paladin would be amazing for smiting and hunting down a hag. Or will he end up becoming a more skilled hunter and protector against the unknown? He does already have some ranger skills and it would be an interesting multi-class if nothing else. Maybe he just learns to hone his rage even more to overpower what he knows will be an inevitable fight with the hag.

What I do know is that Flopsy has become something very real and important to me as a player. That joke about how the most silly starting campaigns turn into the most serious is accurate in this instance. I would fight to get this poor fuzzy orphan the life he needs, and that probably includes him building a family. It's one of life's greatest joys. It's also been a surreal experience for me personally, as I have become a father at roughly the same pace as Flopsy. I know the sort of anguish and rage that would stem from anything happening to my child.

I want to just keep talking about Flopsy and fatherhood now... but there isn't much to say. It's wonderful.

#d&d #dnd #story time #flopsy #dungeons and dragons

[myth-lord]

Elemental Groups

FIRE BASED CREATURES (These creatures can control some form of heat, fire, smoke or lava/magma, just having fire-hair like the Empusa doesn’t count here.) 5: Cerberus (Demon) 29: Gloson *Gravso* (Undead) 43: Salamander (Beast) 67: Zmey *Balaur* (Dragon) 68: Aatxe (Undead) 68,5: Khalkotauroi (Construct) 70: Aproxis (Plant) 74: Butatsch (Aberration) 90: Muscaliet (Chimerae) 93: Phoenix *Firebird* (Elemental) 96: Stella (Aberration) 110: Caorthannach *Ajatar* (Demon) 129,5: Delgeth (Demon) 144: Gaasyendietha (Dragon) 166: Cherufe (Elemental) 182: Soucouyant (Elemental) 182,5: Candileja (Elemental) 219: Fulad-Zereh (Demon) 222: Ifrit (Elemental) 247: Enenra (Elemental) 260,5: Kasha (Demon) 271: Wanyudo (Construct)

EARTH BASED CREATURES (These creatures can control earth, rock, crystal, vibrations, sand, lava/magma or mud.) 12: Gorgon *Medusa* (Humanoid) 21: Planctae *Symplegades* (Elemental) 36: Kobold (Fey) 37: Landvaettir *Land Wight* (Elemental) 40: Nidhogg (Dragon) 64,5: Bolotnik (Humanoid) 82: Gargoyle *Grotesque* (Elemental) 82,5: Asag (Demon) 91: Myrmecoleon (Beast) 108: Buggane (Chimerae) 144: Gaasyendietha (Dragon) 155: Rock Bolter (Beast) 165: Carbuncle (Fey) 166: Cherufe (Elemental) 212: Ahl At-Trab (Elemental) 220: Ghul (Undead) 246: Dorotabo (Elemental) 259: Namazu (Beast) 298: Porotai (Fey)

STORM BASED CREATURES (These creatures can control air, lightning, clouds, weather, fog or wind. Creatures that can fly don’t count, they have to control the pure elements.) 14: Harpy (Humanoid) 14,5: Siren (Fey) 54: Ebajalg *Ala* (Elemental) 67: Zmey *Balaur* (Dragon) 106: Brollachan *Fear Liath* (Elemental) 118,5: Ceffyl Dwr (Fey) 145: Haietlik (Dragon) 196: Impundulu *Lightning Bird* (Demon) 214: Asdeev (Dragon) 231: Death Worm *Olgoi-Khorkhoi* (Aberration) 243: Akashita (Demon) 247: Enenra (Elemental) 255: Kamaitachi (Fey) 264: Raiju (Elemental)

WATER BASED CREATURES (These creatures can control water, mud or some other effects on water, creatures that just live in water don’t count here, the creature must have water-based abilities.) 6: Charybdis (Aberration) 58,5: Strigoi (Undead) 62: Rusalka *Topielec* (Undead) 64,5: Bolotnik (Humanoid) 89: Marabbecca (Aberration) 117: Grindylow (Humanoid) 118: Kelpie *Each Uisge* (Fey) 118,5: Ceffyl Dwr (Fey) 119: Knucker (Dragon) 124: Morgawr (Beast) 126: Nuckelavee (Fey) 137: Amhuluk (Dragon) 142: Engulfer *Hinqumemen* (Elemental) 150: Mishibizhiw *River Panther* (Chimerae) 154: Qalupalik (Aberration) 158: Squonk (Aberration) 177: Kori (Beast) 181: Nguruvilu (Chimerae) 246: Dorotabo (Elemental) 256: Kappa (Chimerae) 256,5: Suiko (Chimerae) 269: Umibozu (Undead) 275: Abaia (Fey) 281: Berberoka (Plant) 289: Polong (Elemental)

FROST BASED CREATURES (These creatures can control cold, snow and ice. These are too different from water to include them there.) 34: Hrimpursar *Frost Giant* (Humanoid) 39: Morko *Groke* (Aberration) 43: Salamander (Beast) 78: Colorobetch (Aberration) 93,5: Psonen (Undead) 136: Akhlut *Amarok* (Beast) 138: Amikuk (Aberration) 147: Ijiraq (Fey) 148: Kokogiak *Qupqugiaq* (Beast) 149: Mahaha (Demon) 160: Wendigo *Chenoo* (Elemental) 214: Asdeev (Dragon) 272: Yuki-Onna (Undead)

LIGHT BASED CREATURES (These creatures can use light and colors as their weapon or defense.) 60: Poludnica *Lady Midday* (Fey) 75: Caladrius (Beast) 95: Scytalis (Chimerae) 123: Marool (Demon) 133: Will o Wisp (Elemental) 133,5: Luz Mala (Elemental) 187: Adze (Fey) 200,5: Ropen (Beast) 229,5: Khepri (Beast)

SHADOW CREATURES (These creatures use shadows and darkness as their weapon or defense.) 18: Lampad (Fey) 59: Nocnitsa *Night Hag* (Demon) 65: Zirnitra (Dragon) 84: Gaueko (Elemental) 104: Barghest *Cadejo* (Undead) 133,5: Luz Mala (Elemental) 159: Tailypo (Fey) 205: Mngwa (Undead) 211: Acheri *Drekavac* (Undead) 220: Ghul (Undead) 261: Nue (Chimerae) 269: Umibozu (Undead) 284: Dalaketnon (Fey) 290: Sigbin (Demon)  

POISON BASED CREATURES (These creatures are venomous, poisonous or toxic. Disease-based creatures don’t count here, though some disease-based creatures such as Nuckelavee can also use toxics.) 1: Amphisbaena (Beast) 15: Hydra (Beast) 15,5: Ladon (Dragon) 22: Scorpios (Beast) 22,5: Sandwalker (Beast) 42: Radande (Plant) 67: Zmey *Balaur* (Dragon) 72: Basilisk *Cockatrice* (Chimerae) 75,5: Zhenniao (Beast) 76: Cerastes *Sierpa* (Beast) 95: Scytalis (Chimerae) 96: Stella (Aberration) 98: Velue *Peluda* (Dragon) 102: Awd Goggie (Fey) 110: Caorthannach *Ajatar* (Demon) 120: Lavellan (Beast) 125: Muirdris (Aberration) 126: Nuckelavee (Fey) 132: Water Leaper *Llamhigyn Y Dwr* (Chimerae) 175: Itzpapalotl (Fey) 176: Kayeri (Plant) 186: Xhumpedzkin *Ix-Hunpedzkin* (Beast) 187: Adze (Fey) 189: Catoblepas (Beast) 198: Jba Fofi (Beast) 203: Mbielu-Mbielu (Plant) 208: Umdhlebi (Plant) 216: Caspilly (Beast) 217: Druj Nasu (Demon) 221: Girtablilu *Aqrabuamelu* (Humanoid) 225: Manticore (Chimerae) 230: Vish Kanya (Humanoid) 230,5: Saapin (Humanoid) 231: Death Worm *Olgoi-Khorkhoi* (Aberration) 234: Gu (Elemental) 236,5: Sessho-Seki (Undead) 238: Qinyuan (Chimerae) 253: Jorogumo *Arachne* (Fey) 261: Nue (Chimerae) 263: Omukade (Demon) 266: Sazae-Oni (Demon) 268: Tsuchigumo (Demon) 276: Abere *Xtabay* (Plant) 282: Bonguru (Fey) 288: Nuno *Trenti* (Plant) 296: Nadubi (Demon)

SOUND BASED CREATURES (These creatures use sound  or their voice as a weapon or power, mimicry and magical whispers also counts.) 3: Celedon *Gold Golem* (Construct) 14: Harpy (Humanoid) 14,5: Siren (Fey) 38: Mandragora *Mandrake* (Plant) 48: Ankluz (Construct) 53: Bukavac (Chimerae) 103: Banshee (Undead) 135: Ahkiyyini (Undead) 149: Mahaha (Demon) 161: Ahuizotl (Chimerae) 163: Camazotz (Beast) 164: Camulatz (Beast) 167: Chon-Chon *Flying Head* (Undead) 179: Lechuza *Strix* (Fey) 201: Leucrotta *Crocotta* (Chimerae) 235: Jinmenju (Plant) 291: Tikbalang (Fey)

CHAOS BASED CREATURES (These creatures have raw chaos-based powers, only few creatures can survive the plane of chaos, so their numbers are few. Most Chaos-based creatures follow Hundun, the lord of Chaos.) 11,5: Hekantoncheires (Demon) 18: Lampad (Fey) 51: Bolla (Dragon) 51,5: Kulshedra (Dragon) 86,5: Skrzak (Demon) 127: Phooka *Puck* (Fey) 206: Popobawa (Demon) 232: Dijiang *Hundun* (Aberration) 265: Rokurokubi (Humanoid)

PSYCHIC BASED CREATURES (These creatures are telepathic, telekinetic, can control your mind, invade your mind, control your emotions, enter your dreams, control your nightmares, cause raw fear, create illusions, look through your eyes, cause madness, stun your mind, give you visions, cause extreme migraine, poison your mind or change your mood in an instant.) 2: Argus *Hyakume* (Aberration) 52: Bubak (Construct) 59: Nocnitsa *Night Hag* (Demon) 81: Egregore (Construct) 87: Incubus *Succubus* (Demon) 95: Scytalis (Chimerae) 106: Brollachan *Fear Liath* (Elemental) 109: Burach Bhadi *Wizard Shackle* (Aberration) 121: Leanan Sidhe (Fey) 127: Phooka *Puck* (Fey) 143: Ewah (Aberration) 147: Ijiraq (Fey) 165: Carbuncle (Fey) 185: Xan *Moskitto* (Beast) 186: Xhumpedzkin *Ix-Hunpedzkin* (Beast) 199: Kerit *Nandi Bear* (Aberration) 218: Dybbuk (Undead) 228: Salawa *Sha* (Beast) 230,5: Saapin (Humanoid) 239: Shen (Aberration) 245: Baku (Chimerae) 284: Dalaketnon (Fey) 291: Tikbalang (Fey) 292: Tiyanak *Toyol* (Undead) 292,5: Myling (Undead)

#Mythology #Folklore #Cryptid #Fantasy

[sloppy-butcher]

GhostFace’s Field-guide to the Entity #2

Day 134

I saw Him today. The Man.

There was a reason I never went to Illinois, why I never took my business there. More specifically Haddonfield. It was because that was His territory. Normally I couldn't give two shits about where I killed or who I killed but Haddonfield was a special case.

I remember first reading about Him in the paper then later seeing Him in old police documentaries. His reign of terror happened years before mine yet the shock-waves still rippled through time and effected the world He left devastated. A man in a white mask. A stalker. A cold, unrelenting murderer. A legend.

I wouldn’t say I was jealous of the legacy He left behind. If anything one could say I admired Him. He was such an abnormality, a plague which turned the town of Haddonfield into a place of fear and death. I suppose I looked up to Him in my early days and although I tried to learn as much as one can about Him, I never found out where He disappeared too. No one did. 

Well, slap my ass and call me Tiffany, I found Him. Good ol’ Michael Myers himself. Never had I thought I’d have the honour of seeing the myth in person and now that I have all I can say is how... impressive He is. There was no doubting whether it was the real deal. I saw him from a distance, but the aura he radiated spread across the space between us and made my neck hairs stand on end. But I wasn’t scared.

I wouldn’t consider myself a homosexual but, my God, that man does things. Or rather, he didn’t do anything. He just stood there, eyes forward and unmoving, but all I could feel was his raw energy. He is... bigger in real life than in the old videos, his photo’s really didn’t do him justice. But enough about that; I just wanted to document my encounter with the man.

Of course, I didn’t try to speak to him, if the documentaries are to be believed, Myers has never spoken before so I will add him to the list of killers that don’t want to speak. (List includes: Wraith and Hag). Regardless of my limited contact with Myers I still was able to pick up a few oddities. For example, in his off-time, he does nothing but stand. While some pace their domains or sharpen their tools/weapons, Myers just stands and looks. I observed him in the middle of the Street in Haddonfield bathed in flickering police lights. Myers didn’t seem to notice me for, even when I edged closer to him from my hiding spot in the bushes, he remained perfectly motionless. It was quite impressive actually, he was like a statue. Nothing about him seemed alive save for his heavy breathing, which was accentuated thanks to that bleached mask of his. 

I was there for a while, watching him and when my curiosity and courage got the better of me, I approached him. Again, let me reiterate, this man is big. My head only comes to about his shoulder. Truly a beast of a man. But while I was next to him, close enough to see the small whiffs of blonde hair poking out from under the base of the masks neck, I noticed something, very slight and odd. Every so often he’d flex his hands and raise his tilted head as if listening to something in the night sky and anticipating an order. 

For a man known for his stalking abilities, he stuck out like a sore thumb among that empty suburban street. Maybe, since he was not ‘working’ Myers had no reason to hideaway. If I may be so bold, I’d say he looked almost bored. I related to him. Off-time is always boring and for a man whose whole purpose is based on his reputation of stalking, watching and always following, why, it was like looking at a dog without a bone. A man without a purpose. A stalker without a victim.

Even though I have never exchanged words with Myers, and I doubt I ever truly will, I realise I share more in common with the man than I previously thought. We both like to take our time with our kills. We both find off-time excruciatingly dull. And we both don’t like being told how to kill. I suppose that’s why I never went to Illinois, because why should I bother terrorising a town already stained by another?

I would never want to upstage him. 

Well...

#dbd #dead by daylight #danny johnson #dbd ghostface #danny's dairies #writings #michael myers #dbd imagines