#also trickery and a cursed treasure

[blood-orange-juice]

New headcanon: Childe isn't a reincarnation of Ajax/Tuzannou/Parsifal, he's a reincarnation of all the lovely blue-eyed maidens these people loved.

One hailed from a land of snow, another sang to whales and the last one was unmatched in her skill with a spear and blamed for things she didn't do.

It all makes sense now.

[go-go-devil]

Pate and Patches: What's the Difference?

As an avid Patches Enjoyer, I had initially found myself a bit underwhelmed with Mild Mannered Pate after completing his questline in Dark Souls 2, particularly with his overall lack of any truly devious trickery towards my Bearer of the Curse.

However, I didn't think it was fair to him to completely compare his role to Patches's. So after much assessment and taking in all the gameplay & environmental clues I could, I think I may have finally deduced how Pate's differences to Patches help him fit into his own niche in this game.

Y'see, while Patches is a predator, Pate is a parasite.

Patches goes after his victims directly. He lures them in with the promise of treasure only to flip a switch that'll send them into dangerous/fatal areas or will straight up kick them down there himself. If they somehow manage to get out of his traps then he'll start groveling and offering gifts for forgiveness. He also uses this predatory tactic to determine which of the people around him are both resilient and forgiving enough for him to trust, which leads him to becoming a merchant and thus a kind of ally to you. A sketchy, devious ally, but one who actively benefits you and gives you his occasional musings on the world and its characters.

Pate, on the other hand, doesn't seem to want to get his hands dirty at all when it comes to scavenging his victims' loot. Instead his strategy is to directly attach himself to anyone who proves strong enough to get through any dangerous areas he stumbles upon. He does this by playing the role of an unassuming, cautious treasure hunter who gives you helpful advice about the immediate area and wishes for your safety. It can even be seen through his choice of clothes; Pate dresses in the armor of a common warrior, unlike Patches who proudly wears the thief's set.

I remember at first finding it strange how he of all NPC's was the one who gives you the white soapstone, contrasting how in DS1 it was Solaire, one of the kindest characters in that game, who gave it to us. Looking back, however, it does fit his strategy well. Summons directly benefit from their summoners by getting souls & items for their participation, and so Pate can offer his help by turtling with his greatshield and stabbing the boss safely with his long spear to get his fill of the large number of souls you acquire.

Once he becomes his next victim's "ally," all Pate has to do now is just mosey alongside them and keep finding areas where they can acquire great treasures. But only for them, of course! He's just too nervous about what terrible traps await, but surely his ally is brave and strong enough to persevere while he watches from a distance. If they were to die by a swarm of hollows, or fall into a pit of poison, well, it wasn't HIS fault that it happened! He did warn them, after all...

With that in mind it's easy to assume that Pate was pulling this parasitism on Creighton for a good while, tagging along with him and benefiting from all the undead, hollow or sane, that the man slayed. The two even stored their treasures together in the same hovel. Why exactly he locked him up is never directly explained, but if I were to guess I'd say it had to do with Creighton's claim of wanting to set up a trap for Pate. He began to grow wise (or maybe moreso paranoid) to the fact that he was being used, and once his mild mannered "friend" figured it out he tricked him right back, took what he could from him (that being the Ring of Thorns), and booked it!

And even after all of that, this man still has the gall to share this story with strangers by twisting it around and turning the guy who tried to kill him into this poor, foolish little warrior that Pate tried so hard to stop from falling into such an obvious trap.

That's what separates the two tricksters. Unlike Patches who defines himself by living independently from others, Pate cannot function without hooking his claws onto the trust of more daring individuals to do all the dirty work for him. After surviving Patches's tricks he becomes your merchant and ally, but Pate wants nothing to do with you after surviving all of his traps. While Patches locked up and warns you about Yurt and Lautrec in DeS and DS1 respectively because he was genuinely afraid of how cruel and violent they were, Pate locked up Creighton upon realizing he wasn't beneficial to him anymore and doesn't even bother warning you about the fact that he's a convicted serial killer, instead pretending he doesn't even know the guy.

There's also the fact that if you summon Pate for The Last Giant boss fight, he'll give you his clothes, spear, greatshield, and even the ring (or at least copies of them, he doesn't strip down in front of us). Since this is also when he tells us he's heard of a man who's out hunting for him, it's more than a little suspicious that he would want us to dress to his likeness. Especially if that certain someone might end up mistaking us as him.

All-in-all Pate may seem less harmful than Patches on the surface, but in the end he proves to be far more cowardly and arguably WORSE than him from a moral standpoint.

[rivangel]

PLEASE tell us about Jesus-Judas / Levi-Zeke comparisons im a sucker for biblical parallels 🧍

(part 1 technically)

UGH THANK U YES!!!!!

this is so interesting to me because there are more parallels than one may initially think - cuz there’s no overt reason for this connection to biblical canon other than connections to other religions in aot guess? (i.e., norse myth and yggdrasil ((the tree of life aka the paths tree)))

there are 3 suggestions why judas betrayed jesus. 1, possessed by demons, 2, money/flattery since jesus was already wanted by roman police (judas was a thief and a conman), and/or 3, difference in belief.

1 - demons aren't relevant, unless we're talking metaphors perhaps.

2 - as long as levi died that was good enough for zeke (the reason he left levi for the mindless titans)😭tho the biggest reason zeke resented him was simply because he kept failing to kill him.

3 - is IT. in biblical canon, the reason judas betrayed jesus was basically because - although they both wanted to make israel an independent kingdom from rome - judas thought jesus was going about it the wrong way by preaching diplomacy/refraining from waging war/not using deceit to orchestrate a coup and such.

it's the same, except neither zeke nor levi wanted to preserve the eldian empire (necessarily). zeke wanted to wipe it out, levi wanted to bring peace - but not by any means necessary. levi didn't agree with the rumbling. zeke on the other hand wanted all eldians to die if not sooner through eren's rumbling, then later.

zeke would betray levi because he found it foolish how he (and the scouts) thought they had any chance of getting peace through diplomacy (a relative to jesus' way); zeke also found all life worthless, while for levi it's the opposite; zeke would commit reprehensible acts of trickery/malice/indiscriminate murder to get peace his way, while levi of course was a “hero” and thought similar to jesus, save for the fact that levi would do those things as long as it contributed towards the peace the scouts sought (see: season 3p1)

the practical reason jesus chose judas to be one of his disciples was to be the treasurer who’d operate their “common purse”. this might be a reach, but you could say zeke played a similar role as a pawn or token for the rumbling (from levi and the scouts' perspective).

and this makes sense, because the reality is jesus chose judas because he knew he’d go on to betray him, and that was fine because it would lead to humanity’s redemption (the crucifixion).

levi didn’t know of course. but it’d be unrealistic to think levi didn't consider betrayal as a possibility knowing he didn't trust zeke to help eldia or the scouts. later on, he was guarding him under the plan of cutting zeke up and feeding him to a titan to preserve his royal blood (after the messengers told levi about eren's escape). aka, an end to the rumbling. aka, humanity's redemption.

but zeke's betrayal would lead to humanity's redemption anyway (the alliance battling eren and ending the titan curse).

zeke betrays levi. except levi doesn't take the betrayal as jesus did and fought to capture him. then took sadistic pleasure in torturing him with plans for zeke to die a slow painful death soaked in his own filth (by getting eaten by a titan).

yelena would go on to rhetorically ask levi much later - as his turn for that reconciliation/sin confession time in the forest the night before - “violence is the one thing you can’t take away from humanity. isn’t that right, captain?”

levi represents many things, including the best of what humanity has to offer (ie, its compassion, its resilience). so yelena is asking that literally in response to the fighting at the harbor, but it should mean in terms of levi's character too.

but, in the world of aot you can’t call levi’s propensity towards violence a sin, in fact it's a huge facet of his strength.

BUT levi began to become everything his old self saw as a weak person with thinking about the past (ie in the forest levi thinking back on his last convo with erwin, which couldn't have been for the first time); giving in to emotion and hesitating (levi hesitated to kill titan varus, seeing varus' face in his titan and generally wondering if all of them were still in there. this almost killed him); in general losing control of his emotions (levi being reckless by torturing zeke in the cart apparently not expecting zeke would do anything to escape, including set off the thunderspear. levi is smart. it's more likely to me he did see the possibility, but he wasn't thinking because he gave into hatred).

and that's exactly the thing. levi's "violence" is to mean his violence used because of blind hatred, violence to be cruel.

BUT THIS IS THE PARALLEL

levi doesn't mirror jesus exactly, he's just a man. BUT levi DOES MIRROR THE LEADER OF THE LEVITES

jacob (levi’s father and the father of the kingdom of israel) said: “Simeon and Levi are brothers—their swords are weapons of violence. Let me not enter their council, let me not join their assembly, for they have killed men in their anger and hamstrung oxen as they pleased. Cursed be their anger, so fierce, and their fury, so cruel!” (genesis 49)

simeon would go on to lead a different tribe, but their sins are the same. simeon is best known for mass-murdering a bunch of a people because the prince of those people raped his sister.

THIS IS SO INTERESTING!!! because this is adjacent to zeke as well. in s3, zeke took pleasure in killing the scouts (w/ erwin's last charge), but he doesn't hate the scouts necessarily; he hates his father, and his father stood for the same thing the scouts do, and a large reason zeke hates his father is because (zeke thinks) he brainwashed eren into the same belief. zeke hates the "prince", thus zeke hates the people of the prince who "raped his sister" - violated his brother's mind.

LEVI REPRESENTS THE SAVIOR FIGURE JESUS IS BUT AS A HUMAN HE SINS AND HIS SIN WAS THE SAME AS LEVI OF THE BIBLE!!!

AND ZEKE REPRESENTS THE THEIF AND BETRAYER JUDAS DOES

THEY SHARE THE SAME BASIC GOAL OF PEACE, AND THOUGH THEY'RE DIAMETRICALLY OPPOSED, WHAT MAKES THEIR “BROTHERHOOD” IS THEIR CRUEL VIOLENCE.

it's important yelena of all people asks levi that question whether she knows it or not, because she sees zeke as the savior of the world. whether zeke is the best of humanity or levi is, their violence is impossible to remove. (which, of course, is a major theme of aot.)

in israel, kissing was a way to greet someone (especially someone you know) and to identify jesus to the authorities, judas kissed him. a really treacherous “fuck you” to their brotherhood.

in the same way, zeke would turn levi’s comrades into titans. zeke both didn’t expect levi to survive this (like judas giving jesus to the roman authorities), and this forced levi to kill his comrades.

this in particular is like that kiss because: the meaning of his comrades lives, alive and dead, is what levi cares the most about at this point. zeke not only "imprisons" them but forces levi to kill them or die doing so.

lastly, judas would go on to commit suicide after jesus’ death. he (literally) throws away a large part of what he wanted being his money. being that greed and sin in the name of money defines judas, which is at the same time a necessity, makes me think this represents zeke's reason for fighting (sterilizing the eldians). he still believes in his plan at the end, but he gives it up.

what's different from biblical canon is that "jesus" isn't sacrificed by the enemy for humanity's redemption, but "judas" is killed by "jesus" for humanity's redemption.

furthermore though, because zeke is only human + represents judas, his death not only redeems humanity and its sins in helping to end the titan curse, but redeems himself and his own sins as well.

and who else is more fitting to execute the redemption other than the savior?

[chirons-mortar]

Saligia: Demons

These are drawings of various demons for a Game of Thrones-ish setting that I would sometimes post on my old blog. Basically there were 7 kingdoms based on the 7 deadly sins who worshipped various patron deities, and these demons were their servants (though I guess they would technically be angels within the setting).

Lustlings: Servants of Asmodeus, patron god of Luxuria and god of fertility and travel. They are small slime like beings who can aggregate together to take on greater forms. They are shapeshifters who take on whatever forms pleases them most. They are tasked by their god to spread trickery and mischief among mortals, and thus are the most jovial of the 7 demons.

Gluttonlings: Servants of Beelzebub, patron god of Gula and god of nature and the harvest. They are bloated maggots tasked by their god to collect his bounty in food. They gorge themselves until they become too bloated to move, at which point flies emerge from their bodies to continue the task. When their god returns they will be consumed as morsels to sate his eternal hunger.

Greedlings: Servants of Mammon, patron god of Avaritia and god of the earth and wealth. They are tasked with guarding his earthly treasures, but are born as naked and vulnerable birds. To protect themselves they coat their bodies in their patrons treasures, eventually growing into dragons. However, when their god returns they will have their scales stripped and be vulnerable once more.

Slothlings: Servants of Belphegor, patron god of Acedia and god of order and wisdom. They are hand crafted machines tasked by their god to maintain his celestial bureaucracy in his stead. However, due to their god's neglect, they have slowly degraded without his maintenance. Many are decrepit machines slowly falling apart, but continue their task anyway.

Wrathlings: Servants of Satan, patron god of Ira and god of chaos and war. They are wounded beings in constant pain as they must take their god's constant abuse. They come to the mortal plane to collect their gods tribute in blood, but also to spread the misery they suffer on mortals.

Envylings: Servants of Leviathan, patron god of Invidia and god of the sea and death. They are parasitic fish like creatures tasked by their god to claim all treasures of the deep, as he is cursed by the other six to remain below the ocean waves. They collect the remnants of sunken wrecks to add to their god's locker, but also drag the souls of the drowned into the abyss.

Pridelings: Servants of Lucifer, patron god of Superbia, he is king of the other six and god of the heavens. They are the most angelic looking, and tasked by their god to sing his praises for all eternity and spread his worship among mortals.

[cinaed]

My D&D OCs

I had fun writing up these descriptions so here, have a look at my TTPRG OCs, both current, one-shot wonders, and emeritus ones. Current Hollyella “Holly” Lightouch • Dungeons and Dragons - Waterdeep Dragon Heist/Curse of Strahd fusion • Chaotic Good • Gnome • She/Her lesbian • 72 • Level 10 trickery cleric of Tymora, is the Waterdeep equivalent of a New Yorker, spent the first decades of her life casually scamming tourists and now is stuck being responsible for her party’s lives, hates Barovia with every fiber of her being and Strahd for cockblocking her upcoming date with the hot leader of a local assassins’ guild. Currently trying to get a full night’s rest at the Abbey with a not at all suspicious and weird Abbot before the party probably has to kill them. Yolov • Homebrewed 5E campaign (Astvanor) • Neutral Good • Vedalken • He/Him demisexual disaster • 47 (27 in vedalken years) • Level 13 Order of Scribes wizard whose best friend is his spellbook Es and who is an autistic bundle of anxiety who nevertheless loves magic and his spy/assassin/secret necromancer girlfriend with all his heart. Currently with his friends in an artificer city having just stopped a necromantic plot by an evil artificer guild and now have to deal with that fallout and break the warlock’s Archfey patron out of Feywild jail. 

One-Shot

Asmund Galamista • Homebrewed 5E campaign (Astvanor) • Lawful Good • Half-High Elf • He/Him bisexual • 77 • Level 15 Oath of Devotion paladin of Rova, the nerdiest paladin people have seen in their lives who is built to take hits for his companions and is devoted to protecting a magical Archive of arcane magic and the people who work there. Survived an invasion of the Archive by a lich despite a non-consensual threeway warding bond between his sorcerer/wizard boyfriend and the lich.

Medanne • Astvanor 5E • Lawful Neutral • High Elf • She/Her pansexual • 412 • Level 1 shadow sorcerer/Level 9 whispers bard, is a former spy and assassin who fought in the resistance during a war for independence that eventually freed Valnore from a centuries-long occupation and will forever dislike and distrust her former occupiers. While she is cheerful and flirtatious with almost everyone she meets, she is also ruthless and calculating and absolutely down for murder and arson when it aligns with her current job and especially if it allows her to get some revenge on behalf of Valnore. Ruvaen Exildor • Astvanor 5E • Lawful Evil • High Half-Elf • They/Them aromantic asexual • 218 • Level 10 necromancer, is an antisocial wizard who said no to death and gender and mostly sexuality, during the session mostly wanted to be left in peace until money and treasure was on the table, helped to fund the founding of Yolov’s wizard college over 700 years ago, current a lich and the undead patron to one of Yolov’s professors. Elaric Zauett • Astvanor 5E • Lawful Good • Firbolg • He/Him bisexual • Firbolg equivalent of 40 • Level 10 divination wizard, is a recently divorced sad dad of triplets who just wanted to spend a nice weekly dinner with his college friends and fellow dads in their silly ‘secret’ organization to forget that his ex-wife was on her honeymoon and instead got attacked by people who mistook their group for an actual secret organization protecting the world. Somehow not the saddest dad in the group. Vikram 'Vik' Madan • Dungeons and Dragons - Earth AU set Halloween 1999 • Chaotic Neutral • Human (Tabaxi stats for ghost form) • They/Them pansexual • 20 • Level 5 phantom rogue who is obsessed with The X-Files and the supernatural, had the best/worst night of their life when ghosts hijacked their body and the bodies of a couple other party-goers at this college Halloween party and they had to fight to get their bodies back.

Kitris Nimblehand • Dungeons and Dragons - Eberron • Chaotic Neutral • Minotaur • She/Her bisexual • 42 • Level 3 war cleric of the Dark Six, is a former soldier who fully expected to die gloriously in war and then the one hundred year war ended and she found herself adrift in peacetime and looking to cause problems.

Szuil ‘Suze’ Brooker • Dungeons and Dragons - Faerun • Chaotic Good • Human •  She/Her Lesbian • 36 • Level 12 tempest cleric of Valkur who spends almost all of her time on her pirate-hunting ship The Rising Wave as first mate, stepped unhappily on land for a cleric conference and promptly got involved in a little adventure involving an evil necromancer.

Emeritus Aylara Silvergleaming • Dungeons and Dragons - Hoard of the Dragon Queen • Neutral Good • Half-Elf • She/Her aromantic asexual • 31 • Level 3 knowledge cleric of Deneir who decided that keeping all of the tomes locked away at Candlekeep was ridiculous and went on the run with a library wagon before getting involved in stopping a dragon cult, ended the campaign being responsible for a bronze dragon egg that I headcanon she adopted. My first ever D&D character. Zadre • Dungeons and Dragons - The Sunless Citadel • Chaotic Good • Half-Orc • She/Her lesbian • 26 • Level 3 nature cleric of Sylvanus who went out into the world to prove to the other priests that the whole ‘beware of orcs’ tenet of her faith was wrong, then got embroiled in a number of questions where people kept messing around with nature. Tovia • Dungeons and Dragons - Acquisitions Incorporated • Neutral Good • She/Her lesbian Firbolg • 75 • Level 3 life cleric of Chauntea, a farm girl who went to the big city to help make money to save her family’s struggling farm and accidentally fell in with a bunch of con artists and criminals who were slowly being shamed by her belief in their goodness to be better people.

Bridgette Bindane • Dungeons and Dragons - Curse of Strahd • Neutral Good • Human • She/Her lesbian • 29 • Level 4 abjuration wizard, is more curious for her own good and has willingly gone to Barovia in search of a fellow wizard who disappeared with her adventuring party, left the party in search of her missing friend Cinder while judging everyone and everything in Vallaki.

[im-gonna-draw]

Name: Ruben

Affiliation: Moon Court (against his will)

Personality: Traits: selfish, cunning, rude, sarcastic, temperamental, lonely, self-destructive

Likes: stealing, scheming, being alone, reading, drinking, treasure, flirting, fortune-telling, gambling, causing pain with his thievery

Dislikes: Ella and her sickening kindness (initially), teamwork, generosity, politics, magic, any kind of vulnerability, royalty (Kieran in particular)

Skills: stealth, lock-picking, swiftness, acting

Bio: A thief from a kingdom far away. He was born in your run-of-the-mill slums, with little a penny to his name. When he was a child of 10, his younger brother was kidnapped and never seen again. The kidnapper was never found and the royal guard soon gave up, having put little to no effort in finding him to begin with. This traumatic event caused Ruben to become cold and bitter. He resented the world that went on existing while his family received no justice. Disgusted at the thought of growing into a man that struggled to serve society, he ran away from home at 16 in order to find his own path.

Ruben doesn’t have a generous bone in his body. He believes in only looking out for himself, with him versus the world. This applies to not only nobles, but his fellow man as well. He shares none of his bounty, and will con anyone he finds gullible or too trustworthy. Deep down, the score is only half the reason for his trickery. A sadistic side of him wants to see the distress on their faces, knowing that they’ll have no choice but to “get over it”, like the world expected him to do with his brother.

Despite his selfishness, Ruben never resorts to killing, or even hurting people. He also avoids pulling children in his schemes, as they’re a stark reminder of what he lost ago.

Ruben doesn’t have a friend in the world, instead surrounding himself with his treasure as a reminder of the all the people he’d bested. Alas, no matter how much he steals, nothing eases the pain his past etched into his heart…

Random Fact: He has a weird quirk where he likes to leave decisions to chance. Not just with gambling, but such as tossing a coin to make a decision, drawing a name from a hat, or randomly choosing a town to visit.

His Role: Some time after her curse is broken, Ella meets Ruben at the night market. She witnesses him refusing a thirsty old man some water when the latter can’t afford it, mocking him the entire time. She confronts him and pays for it to give to the man.

This leads to the two of them having a clash of ideals. Ella, or course, arguing about the importance of mercy and kindness, with Ruben stating that those things only lead to self-sacrifice, something he has no interest in being part of. Ella leaves after a heated debate.

Later, Ella catches Ruben trying to steal from the Magpie. They scuffle as she tries to stop him. Eventually, Ruben accidentally knocks her over a balcony. Ella hangs on to the rim for dear life, knowing the fall will kill her. Instead of running off, Ruben decides to pull her to safety. This gives the Magpie’s guards enough time to capture him.

Magpie quickly decides to have Ruben killed. Seeing now that there’s some good in him, Ella claims him in the name of the Moon Court, saying that by saving his life with her declaration, he’ll owe her a life debt. This indeed does spare him from the Magpie’s wrath, but the cost of his freedom.

Ruben is now stuck serving Ella until Spring, where she will spend the time trying to change his heart and make an honest man of him.

Quotes:

“Ah~! Nothing like the smell of suckers in the morning!”

“Now what about me seems untrustworthy?”

“I’d hurry home, old man. I don’t need your sweat getting into my cold, refreshing water.”

“I fail to see how I lost in this situation. A haughty princess just handed me money.”

“Okay, so YOU care for others, yes? You cared about that old man. You paid for him. Now look: you’re two gold pieces short to buy yourself some water. And you’re saying that’s a good thing?”

“Fuckin’ hell, are you my mother? Go away! I make it a point to not see the same face twice!”

“Yep. You’re a royal, alright. Only a princess who stuffs her face all day can be that hard to lift up.”

“Um….no. No. I’m not staying here. I don’t care what elf rules you live by, or what you put around my neck, I’m leaving. Good day.”

“We call you guys ‘elves’ where i come from.”

“Okay, I’m done being nice. Let me go, you BITCH!”

“……Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

“I swear to the Gods, if those birds attack me, I’m making them my dinner tonight.”

“Are you sure you want a gorgeous man alone with your wife, Kieran? Because I’m a tramp, I won’t lie.”

“……Why didn’t I let you fall?”

“What? I can’t even THREATEN to rob someone now?”

“If you think we’re going to be friends by the end of this, you’re sadly mistaken.”

*to Kieran* “You know you have the dead eyes of a shark?”

“Okay, write both names on a piece of parchment, hold them behind your back, and don’t tell me which hand has who….don’t ask. Just do.”

“……I know I’ll never see him again. I’ve…made peace with that. I just want to know what became of him. It’s the unknown that really gets to you…”

*anytime he saves Ella* “This doesn’t mean I like you!”

*hearing Ella is pregnant* “Ha! You’re gonna get fat! And congratulations.”

“Jack, your mother deserved what happened to her. Anyone who just abandons their kid like that…..yeah, she got what was coming to her.”

@leafkingofbirds

[headcanontheshitoutofsoulsborne]

Patches is a god of tricksters, his presence leaking through to each universe he appears in, and manifesting as a human, usually bald, usually prone to kicking people off cliffs.  His will also extends to the slayers of demons, chosen undeads, bearers of the curse, good hunters, ashen ones, and tarnished of the from software universe.  Every time a player leaves a behind an "illusory wall ahead" message or a "try jumping" message or invades a player only to give them some treasure before stabbing them in the back or griefs as a co-operator or does any other unsavory trickster act, that is Patches enacting his will as a god of trickery.

[phantasmagoriaoriginals]

is there a summary of the characters from lux republic anywhere ? ^v^ i like reading ur stuff

Not yet, but I'll make one right now! XD

. . .

Category: Human Actions

1. Wisdom and Knowledge

Deity — Arrow

communication, thought, information, interests, academics

The so-called "leader" of the deities. His domain is debatably the most impactful on humankind, and as such, he wound up being the most powerful of their group. Smug, egotistic, and never hesitating to rub his superiority in everyone else's faces, all of the knowledge available to humans is at his disposal. Unfortunately, that's also his greatest curse. There are things Arrow wishes he didn't have to know, and of course, with great power comes the eternal fear of failure...

2. Literature and Art

Deity — Cadence

creativity, pleasure, self-expression, drama, romance

While all Deities have an inherent adoration for the humans they owe their existence to, Cadence is the most open about it. Her domain is all but universally adored, and because of that, she's both confident in her connection to humankind and desperate to reach out even more. She paints herself as harmless, appearing palatable and pleasant even to her fellow Deities. Representing self-expression, though, she's not quite as innocent as she likes to act.

3. Warfare and Strategy

Deity — Legend

reputation, ambition, talents, goals, fame

While his appearance is intimidating and his domain encompasses some of the worst parts of human nature, Legend isn't the tyrant many would expect him to be. He's a serious sort, eternally weighed down by guilt, and handling his duty in life to the best of his ability. He represents human ambition— but most of all, the cost that it takes to reach one's goals. There's no way to live without suffering, be it your own or that of others, and he accepts that fact.

4. Desire and Sexuality

Deity — Revel

identity, beginnings, attitude, first impressions, control

Between an ability to connect with humans in their dreams and a natural sort of seduction that brings out people's darkest desires, Revel is used to being a chew toy for human lust. At the same time he treasures this one form of closeness, the constant, inescapable abuse of his own making has left him jaded. Fearing pain and addicting himself to the intimacy of being hurt, he believes that the core of humanity is violence. It's all he's ever known.

Category: Innate Concepts

1. Promises and Rituals

Deity — Caliber

finances, possessions, habits, priorities, values

A pragmatic, cold-hearted Deity who favors personal gain and always coming out ahead. Her dedication to rules and contracts is brutal, though, and anyone who breaks a promise will face her wrath. She dislikes lies and those who take commitments lightly, with routines and patterns governing her behavior more than passions. While riches are part of her domain, she's more concerned with managing assets properly than accumulating large amounts of wealth.

2. Balance and Revenge

Deity — Kindred

subconscious, secrets, enemies, seclusion, endings

Despite most people perceiving her as a violent Deity of vengeance and punishment, the truth is that Kindred values fairness above all else. She wants those who do wrong to face the proper consequences, never more or less than they deserve. Few people look upon her fondly— humans fear her and the other Deities find her too strict—, and she accepts that. Being by herself seems more fitting than trying to be loved, and being something she's not.

3. Trickery and Relationships

Deity — Fable

emotions, family, illusions, debts, stories

Outwardly, Fable appears to be a sly, scheming bastard who no one expects to care about anything or anyone but himself. However, the reality is that he's an emotional, sensitive person who cares so much more than he wants to show. His domain involves the complexity and inherent manipulation found in human relationships. Twisting his words and toying with others comes naturally to him, but it's not as malicious as people think. He feels undeserving of a real bond.

4. Dreams and Fortune

Deity — Saga

connections, aspirations, saviors, the future, miracles

Brilliant, sparkling, and alight with charisma, Saga represents the glowing, golden future that everyone dreams of. Her youthful appearance and permanent smile draw people to her side, but just as luck itself is hollow and fickle, her eyes are empty when you look too closely. Nihilism and apathy dominate her true self, with her careless happiness concealing an utter lack of concern for anything. Blessings are easy to come by, but does anything good ever last?

Category: Natural Forces

1. Evolution and Innocence

Deity — Verity

adventure, philosophy, discipline, law, truth

Among the Deities themselves, Verity is often considered the most dangerous and unpredictable. Her idealistic nature and passion for the "good" in the world initially seem admirable, but the reality is that she's a reckless, violent person who's more concerned with her views of right and wrong than any real justice. Her nature stems from the ignorant, self-righteous parts of humanity that would rather force their will on others than seek acceptance or fairness.

2. Winter and Death

Deity — North

death, solitude, transformation, inheritance, fate

The silent shadow of the Deities, North is quiet, passive, and mostly uninvolved with everyone else's chaos. They like steady, simple things, finding comfort in the inevitable facts of life more so than hopeful longing or baseless optimism. Despite their aloof exterior and neutral persona, they're surprisingly gentle. Being alone suits them, as others are often overwhelming to be around. They have no strong feelings about their own existence or place in the world.

3. Weather and Calamity

Deity — Zephyr

instincts, destruction, strength, confusion, purity

Brash, ferocious, and ruled by emotion, Zephyr represents the nature of humanity that feels. He's an odd mix of carelessness and intense passions, either investing himself deeply in whatever he does or not bothering to stop and think. His purity exists in the sense that he's oblivious to some of the worst parts of the world— so caught up in having fun that bad things bounce right off his thick skull. Violence comes easily to him, but there's rarely cruel intent behind it.

4. Nightmares and Discord

Deity — Tenebris

sleep, perception, instability, fear, punishment

Tenebris is an unpleasant being through and through. He's a sadist who feeds off the unhappiness and pain of others, but turns into an utter coward when it's his own neck on the line. His mental state is fragile at best, with his thinking scattered and his desires twisted up into knots. Aware of everything around him to the point of paranoia, he can only see the worst in everyone around him. And yet, beneath it all, he longs to be close to humanity just like all of them do.

[ilovemesomekillianjones]

In the Still of the Night

Here is my contribution for the Captain Swan Neverland New Year event! You guys, I am so excited to be writing again!!!! Thank you @xhookswenchx for beta reading this baby for me.  Kudos to the mods of @neverlandnewyear for thinking up and putting together this treasure that is Captain Swan in Neverland. Tag list at the end, please let me know if you ever want to be removed or added. 

Summary: Set after Henry is safe (no Pan switch) but before the gang is able to leave Neverland. When Emma is woken in the still of the night, from dreams of a devilishly handsome pirate captain, she decides she needs a midnight swim to cool off. In which Hook and a daringly open Emma have a meeting of the mind, body, and soul. 

     Rated M          8K          ao3           ffnet          Story under the cut, promise

It was the middle of the night when Emma woke, a sweltering, sweaty mess. “Why is this island so fucking hot,” she muttered into the darkness. Having a lascivious dream about Hook had absolutely naught to do with her elevated temperature, it was undoubtedly this goddamn jungle. Now that Pan had been conquered, and Henry was safe, Emma found she was having an increasingly difficult time keeping the smoldering, blue-eyed pirate off of her mind. She needed to get back to Storybrooke, back to some semblance of normalcy... or whatever. She silently cursed Gold for not having found a way to get her father home safely yet. 

Ripping the covers from her body, she got up from her bunk below Henry’s and checked on him. Seeing that he was sound asleep, she headed topside. The deck of the Jolly Roger was blessedly deserted. Emma leaned against the railing, looking toward the vast jungle that was Neverland and she shuddered despite the hot, humid air that surrounded her. The shudder wasn’t due to the jungle itself. Since they’d defeated Pan, Hook had shown the group many of the island’s hidden beauties. He had stories for every spot he showed them, some hilarious, some melancholy, some quite ordinary, and others downright terrifying. There were quaint trails, refreshing springs and ponds, fascinating wildlife and vibrant plant life. It was actually quite a dream destination when a maniacal man-boy wasn’t playing psycho. 

No, it wasn’t the jungle causing that shudder. She couldn’t get that goddamn kiss off her mind. Emma bit her lip as she reminisced about the way his lips had caressed hers, the way his tongue had slipped into her mouth hungrily but also tenderly. A one-time thing, she’d told Hook. Now if she could just maintain that lie, because that’s what it had been. She really needed Gold to find a way to magic David’s health back so they could get off this god forsaken island already. 

She decided that the time for sleep was past, she was wide awake now, with thoughts of that damn pirate. A midnight dip would be ideal, especially while everyone was asleep. Emma left the Jolly Roger and headed toward the secluded pond that Hook had shown them. Once they’d no longer had to worry about being attacked, they’d created a regular schedule for bathing, so everyone had their own time. Luckily, no one’s time was right now.

Traversing quietly through the jungle, Emma admired the beauty around her. The greenery was lush, the effulgent dew made it seem more alive than any plants she’d ever been around. The blossoms surrounding the path were some of the largest she’d ever seen - they were dazzling pinks and oranges. She wondered if she had missed all this in her haste, fatigue, and desperation while finding Henry, or if the jungle had only come to life since the man-child was no more. 

She followed the trail Hook had shown them, until she came upon the pond that was shrouded below an overhang at the base of what Hook had referred to as Dead Man’s Peak. The name hadn’t initially inspired comfort in the group, but when David explained to them that the water at the top of the peak was what had cured him, their perspectives changed. Emma swore there must be some restorative properties here at the base because she always felt rejuvenated when emerging from the water.

Stripping as soon as she broke the tree line, she discarded her clothes beneath a tree along the sandy shoreline. Her flesh pebbled as it met the open air, and she felt a freeness as she walked to the water’s edge. She dipped her toes in tentatively, knowing the water would be agreeable as always. Emma was immersed thigh deep before diving down below the surface and swimming toward the middle. 

The water sluiced around her body soothingly while she held her breath as long as she could, before breaking the surface. Emma pushed her hair back then ran her hands over her face before opening her eyes. She enjoyed this spot, a sandbar of sorts, deep enough to cover her body, shallow enough that she could still reach, and far enough from all surrounding shore should anyone happen upon her.

The silence that enveloped her was serene and she looked up at the star filled sky. A shooting star floated across the heavens, but just as Emma was about to make a wish, the water beside her opened up as something emerged. The scream that started to bubble up from deep within her, as a hundred thoughts filled her mind on what unimaginable Never-beast this could be, was cut off by a voice she was not expecting to hear.

“Evening Swan!”

“Jesus Christ, Hook!” Emma gasped. Thank god she was in shoulder deep water. “Wait, did you… were you watching when I… you know,” she asked while motioning toward her body.

“Did I what?” Hook asked, genuine confusion furrowing his brow.

“Did you see me undressing?”

“You wound me, Swan… I would never!”

“Oh, tonight you’re the gentleman?”

“I told you, I am always a gentleman,” he claimed in a rich tone as he took a step closer to her. “Spying on a lady as she undresses would be unthinkably bad form.”

“Then where the hell were you?” 

“I was underwater.”

“For the whole time?” she asked disbelievingly. 

“Aye. I’m a pirate, love, when you live a life on the water, it’s best you be able to hold your breath for longer than the average landlubber. Never know when you might find yourself keelhauled.”

“Landlubber,” Emma scoffed, “I can hold my breath just fine.” 

“I’ve no doubt you can, just not as long as meself,” he smirked.

Emma narrowed her eyes at the challenge in his tone. What was it about this man that had her wanting to comply with his every whim? She’d held her breath for as long as she could when she dove into the water, if he’d been under from the time she’d stripped until he popped up to interrupt her wish, that had to be like two full minutes? No way, she thought, he must have come up for air while she was under.

“Bet I can,” she challenged back.

“Is that so?” Hook asked, crowding her a little more, eyebrow cocked in interest. “And just what are the terms of this bet?”

If ever asked under oath, Emma would swear his eyebrows spoke a language all their own. “If I win, I get the Captain’s quarters,” Emma replied, crossing her arms over her chest smugly - as if she’d already won.

“I told you before, Swan, you and the lad should have my quarters.”

“I don’t want it given to me, I want to take it from you.”

“Fine,” he sighed, “such a stubborn lass. And if I win?”

“You tell me,” Emma said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Hmmmm,” he hummed, as the tip of his tongue swept along his bottom lip. “How about…” he continued, tapping his pointer finger to his lips.

Emma leaned toward him with anticipation as he pondered the terms to set. 

“I get to ask you any question I want.”

“Seriously?” Emma sputtered, head tilting to the side, it was rhetorical at best, not an actual question. “You’re taking this gentleman schtick a little over the top. I thought you’d want me to flash my tits or another kiss?”

“I told you, love, I am always a gentleman, and as such, I would never want to take a kiss from you in victory, I want it given to me, willingly. I want you to want it as much as I do.”

Emma blushed as he spoke, damn him for being a chivalrous pirate. “Whatever,” Emma muttered, “I’m winning this bet anyway.”

“So, we have an accord?” he questioned, holding out his hand for her to shake.

“Deal,” Emma said, shaking his hand. “How will we know no one cheated?”

“I do have a code, Swan,” Hook scoffed, “pillaging and plundering, yes; swashbuckling, yes; swindling beautiful maidens, never.” He held his hand over his heart as if he were making a pledge. 

Emma smiled at the actual drama queen standing before her, laughing lightly, it felt good. “Okay, so how are we doing this thing?” Hook held up his hand like he was about to take an actual oath, and Emma was half inclined to high-five him, though she was sure that was not his intent. 

“Take my hand then,” he prompted, nodding his head toward his hand. Once her fingers were laced with his, he explained that he would count to three and they’d both submerge to the bottom, first one up was the loser, and the winner would know, because the loser would release the winner’s hand to reach the surface for air. 

On three they submerged, and Emma could not see a thing. Hook was inches from her, and the only indication was his hand in hers. Feeling the comfort of his grasp in the eerily dark abyss, she pondered over the fact that she’d interlocked their fingers, instead of just holding hands palm in palm. She really needed off this island, she couldn’t be falling for him. Life was too hard for a relationship. Or was it really too hard, the rarely heard from, softer side of Emma Swan’s mind butted in. It could be so easy, this voice told her. 

When Hook had told her that he would win her heart without any trickery, Emma’s heart had beat a little stronger just for him, she’d wanted to pull him into her arms to make out right there. Alas, there had still been the issue of her beloved child to save.

Would it really be so bad to let Hook try to win her heart though? He truly was a gentleman, a pirate scoundrel sometimes too, but it was part of his charm. Plus, her lie detector said that everything he’d told her regarding how he felt about her, about what the kiss exposed, it was all true.

Emma’s mind wandered back to Storybrooke, to what it might be like to have someone who understood her, someone who was like her, to spend time with. The squeeze he gave her hand at that moment had her picturing what it might be like to walk through town with him, hand in hand. Was that even something she could still do, be that vulnerable, for the world to see her care for a man? She’d been on her own for so long, independent; free from any man who could hold her heart with the possibility of crushing it. 

Suddenly she felt dizzy, head spinning and heart pounding loudly in her ears. Had she held her breath too long, or were her outlandish imaginings too much for her stoic heart? Releasing Hook’s hand, Emma rose to the surface and gulped in the air. Pushing water and hair from her face, she panted deeply. She wondered how long they’d been down there already as Hook continued his underwater mission. Leave it to him to not only win, but really show her up. 

A full minute later, Emma began to worry. Unless she’d been down there an inordinately short amount of time, he’d been under for at least two and a half minutes. Was that even possible? Had he passed out in his endeavor to “best her”? She started to actually worry for his health when another thirty seconds passed. 

“Goddammit Hook, where are you?” she muttered.

“Miss me, love?” 

“Oh, goddammit!” she yelled as she flailed so hard, she was pretty sure she’d just flashed her breasts unwittingly. The bastard wasn’t even out of breath when he popped up right in front of her. “Stop doing that,” she laughed as she pushed his chest. “Why’d you stay down so long, you big showoff?” 

“On the contrary, I could feel you thinking down there, the amount of body language just in your hand told me you were contemplating some things. I merely wished to give you enough time to escape, should this game have become too much for you.”

“Escape?” she scoffed.

“Now, now, Swan - we both know of your affinity to run,” he said lightly, no accusations or contempt in his voice.

“Says the pirate who sailed away when asked to be a part of something,” Emma retorted. 

“I came back, didn’t I?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow. “You, on the other hand, left me to be eaten by a giant atop that beanstalk.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she laughed. “I made a deal with Anton to release you after ten hours, I just needed a head start, in case you…” Emma’s voice lowered to a whisper, not wanting to voice her early assumptions about his motives and intentions.

“In case I betrayed you,” Hook finished. 

“Sorry,” she whispered, looking straight into his eyes, imploring him to believe the sincerity of her words. Although she’d had her reasons at the time, it didn’t make her feel less terrible now. 

“Long forgiven, milady,” he whispered in turn. Then, in the next breath, he was back to the cocky pirate she knew. “Now, I do believe I won, and per our accord, you owe me the fee of one truth.”

“Congratulations,” Emma offered, extending her hand to shake, “you won, fair and square.” No trickery, she thought. Then she crossed her arms over her chest, which was still underwater, so it didn’t make her look menacing at all as she jutted out her chin and raised both eyebrows in a silent challenge to do his worst. 

“Why thank you, Swan. Hmmm, what shall I ask you?” he spoke, as if pondering his many choices. “There are truly so many things I wish to learn about you, I want to know everything, really.”

Emma’s eyebrows lowered as a shy smile crept over her face. It was stupid, she knew, but having this man before her, admit that he wants to know everything about her made her feel… cherished, adored, wanted. It was a foreign feeling after so many years of being alone. “Well, you only get one free question,” she said, trying to deflect the saccharine sweet feelings he was stirring within her.

"Pity, that, but I do remember the terms of our agreement. I do have one question picked out that I simply must know the answer to, before I endeavor to learn more. Fair warning, I may not have an Emma Swan internal lie detector,” he said as he leaned in closer to her, “but as I told you before, you are a bit of an open book, so I’ll know if you’re twisting the truth.” 

“I would never,” Emma objected dramatically, holding a hand over her heart as he had so often done when feigning injury to his pride.

“Good,” he replied, taking a step even closer. “Then tell me, love, when you said our kiss was a one time thing, did you mean it? And if you did mean it when you said it, do you feel the same now?”

 His close proximity was making her feel a little less confident than the facade she was putting on, but Emma didn’t break the heady eye contact he’d made, a beautiful shade of blue, looking into her, reading her. And how was the kohl that rimmed his eyes unaffected by the water? She might have to pillage some of that from him, it put her realm’s cosmetics to shame. God he was gorgeous as the moonlight shined down on them, she’d never noticed the hint of red to the scruff along his sharp jawline. “That’s two questions,” she murmured breathily as she thought of nibbling along that jawline. 

“Shall I rephrase?”

“Oh, the hell with it, I never meant it,” she confessed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her bare chest against his and kissing him soundly. 

As their lips collided hungrily, over and over, Emma was pretty sure she heard Hook mumbling thanks to the gods. She felt a little of that same relief, as she finally admitted that denying herself this thing that she wanted was ridiculous now that everyone was safe. Running her fingers through his thick hair, she gave it a little tug, angling his head so she could deepen the kiss. The groan he elicited was sinful and it kind of made Emma want to rub herself all over him. 

Instead she ran her other hand over his chest, deciding to take her time, she’d wanted to feel that chest hair since the first time she’d seen it proudly on display. It wasn’t quite what she expected since they were both wet and it was matted to his chest. She smirked when he jumped, his hand tightening involuntarily in her hair as she ran a thumb over his nipple. 

“A little sensitive, Captain?” she teased, looking up at him through her long lashes.

“Aye,” Hook chuckled, “‘s been awhile.”

It’d been a long dry spell for her as well. And it’d been even longer since feeling any true emotion when with a man. It had merely been scratching an itch for so long that she was a little scared what this all meant. The tingling, unadulterated want she felt in every nerve of her body far outweighed the fear though. “Touch me,” she whispered as she wrapped both arms around his waist.

 “Bloody Hell, you’ll be the death of me, woman,” he muttered as he kissed her once more. He wrapped his good arm around her and pulled her in close. Trailing a path from her mouth to her ear, he bit gently on her lobe, and it was his turn to smirk as a shiver ran through Emma’s entire body.  “Would you be opposed to taking this back on land?” 

“We just got clean, I don’t want sand in every crack and crevice,” she giggled while wrinkling her nose. 

“Aye, that would be less than optimal,” Hook agreed, “though the place I have in mind won’t get your nether regions sandy.”

“What’s wrong with right here, right now?” Emma challenged. She was pulled up short when Hook’s cheeks went pink and he scratched behind his ear as he did so often when he was feeling slightly unsure of himself. Truth be told, Emma found it cute, although she’d never tell him that, she doubted the fearsome pirate captain wanted cute to be correlated to his reputation. 

“It’s just, I’d rather…”

Brushing the hair from his forehead, Emma smoothed her thumb over the worry line that creased his brow.  “What’s wrong?” she asked. When he made no attempt to answer, Emma decided to employ his own tactics against him. “Try something new, Hook. It’s called trust.”

Emma internally cheered as one of Hook’s mega watt smiles overtook his face. The smile that showed those adorable (another word she was sure he would not want associated with him) dimples, and crinkled the corners of his eyes. 

“Touché lass,” he conceded, “I’d rather be able to have use of all my appendages.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, gazing very obviously in the direction of his most manly appendage. “Ummm, it felt like it was working just fine to me.” 

“Christ, Swan,” he chuckled, “I assure you, everything is ready, willing, and able in that department. I’d like my hook.”

Emma’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened as she thought, not for the first time, about what that hook would feel like against her heated skin. 

“It’s okay, love, if it repulses you, I can just wear the brace without the hook.” 

Emma shook her head, a frown downturning her brows and her lips, “Stop-”

“But I assure you,” Hook continued without letting Emma speak, “if the hook repulses you, the wound will surely-”

Emma’s hand over his mouth was more effective in shutting him up. “Stop it,” she demanded, “right now.” 

Hook was a little taken aback by being commanded by the fiery version of Emma, he’d seen her fiery side before, and he liked it, he liked every part of her. He wasn’t taken aback by her fire, rather he wasn’t used to being bossed around. He was the boss. But as he stood there, with her hand over his mouth, he realized he’d follow her orders any day. 

“Do you think I’m unaware that you don’t have a left hand?”

Hook shook his head in the negative, since her hand was still covering his mouth.

“Do you think I’m so shallow as to be repulsed by your hook or your brace or your wound?”

Hook took longer to answer this time, contemplating what he’d said and what she was asking. He supposed his words may have left room for misinterpretation. Slowly shaking his head no again, Emma removed her hand from his mouth.

“Good,” she stated simply, reaching for his left wrist before he even realized she'd made a move. 

His head spun when he felt Emma’s touch upon his scarred flesh and his knee-jerk reaction was to pull away from her grasp. He struggled to find the words through the haze. “It was not my intent to imply you are shallow, Emma. It is my own reticence.” 

“Trust me,” she whispered as she took his left wrist again. Wrapping both of her hands around his forearm and blunt wrist. Emma repeated the words comfortingly as she placed the arm he was so ashamed of between her breasts and held it there, where he could feel her heart beating. 

“Your hook, your brace, or just this,” she squeezed his wrist, “has no bearing on how I feel about you. I care about you, Hook.” Her voice sounded shaky, even in her own ears. “You came back for me, you helped save my son, you make me feel wanted, you make me feel good about being me.” Removing one hand from his damaged skin, Emma wrapped it around the back of his neck and pulled his forehead to hers before closing her eyes and continuing. “I’m not ready for this part, and I apologize, because that is my hang up.”

“Hang up?” he questions.

“A simpleton’s way of saying reticence,” she answers with a small smile before continuing. “I hate words, they make things real, and messy, and although I mean everything I’m saying, that’s all I can handle right now. Please just…” she inhaled sharply as she tried to articulate her plea to let this be enough. 

“I understand,” he whispered, voice just as shaky as Emma’s. He placed his hand on her cheek, lovingly caressing the softness of her lower lip. “And I do trust you, love.” He pecked her lips once before continuing. “I know you don’t like words, that much was clear from the start,” he said with a knowing smile and another peck to her lips, “but I’d like to respond, if you’re amenable?”

Emma nodded her head, eyes still closed, still reeling from her own confessions. 

Hook kissed her gently again before prodding her to open her eyes. “I want you to see the truth of my words.” 

Emma inhaled deeply, then opened her eyes to look at him. She bit her lip, a nervous habit from her teen years, as she waited for his words.

“I want to be the one to bite this lip,” Hook growled, as he used his thumb to massage her lip from her teeth.

“Truth,” Emma giggled despite herself, nodding to let him know her lie detector was working.

Hook waggled his eyebrows and smirked at her, before resuming his more resolute demeanor. “I have never felt more naturally drawn to a woman than I do with you. Your fire and passion brought my dormant heart back to life, and for the first time in decades upon decades, I want to be a better version of myself, a version that has been long forgotten, the old Killian Jones who was an honorable man, with good intentions, and hope in his heart, not revenge.”

“You may have lost your way for a time, but you’re still an honorable man, Killian.”

“Gods above,” Hook murmured as he wrapped both arms around Emma and pulled her into nothing more than a loving embrace. He was in love with her, but now was not the time. Emma would undoubtedly run if any grand declarations were made. He hadn’t felt this vulnerable maybe ever and he longed to hear her call him by his given name again. 

“Emma? Hook?! What the hell?”

Emma froze in Hook’s embrace as the familiar, and annoying, and currently very judgmental voice sounded from the shore.

“Bollocks,” Hook cursed. “How shall we handle this, darling?”

“Can we just pretend he’s not there,” she deadpanned, face still buried in her neck, trying to keep reality at bay.

“Somehow I doubt that will work, but you are The Savior, you could give it a go.”

Emma sighed deeply before turning around in Hook’s arms, her back to his chest, so she could face their interloper. She placed her hands over his hand and wrist where they were wrapped around her waist. It was still dark as she faced Neal, so hopefully he wouldn’t see the eyeroll she’d just given him when she saw this silhouette of his hands on his hips like some outraged father. 

“Good morning, Neal,” she called to the shore cheerfully. “I must have lost track of time, I didn’t realize it was already your shift for bathing.”

“It’s not,” he muttered, “it’s still the middle- not the fucking point,” he interrupted himself. “It’s not your shift either, what the hell are you doing out here?”

As much as Emma wanted to tell Neal that she and Hook were doing exactly what he assumed they were doing, she abstained.  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she snapped. 

“It is my business,” he snarled back, “we’re supposed to be here for Henry.”

“Don’t you dare!” Emma started, voice rising with rightfully earned indignation. “We came here to save Henry who is now safe and sound aboard the Jolly, but the reason we are here is because your deranged fiancée dragged him through a portal to sacrifice him to a madman.” 

“So you’re just going to throw away any chance of rekindling what we had, of being a family with Henry; so you can get laid by a dirty pirate.”

Emma pulled Hook’s arms around her tighter, keeping him anchored to her when she felt him start to pull away. She didn’t need these two getting into it again. 

“Oi! I bathe quite frequently, mate,” Hook quipped. “I was doing so when Swan and I happened upon each other.”

“Shut up, Hook,” Neal retorted.

“The one good thing that came from us, was Henry, but our relationship is long over. There is nothing to rekindle,” Emma sighed. She didn’t want to be mean, but she needed Neal to understand that she wanted nothing to do with him romantically. And she was not going to be lectured by the man who’d already blown up her life once. “Maybe one day, you and I can be friends for Henry’s sake, but that is the most we will ever be.”

“Ems, you don’t mean that. You’re under his thrall, it’s not real.”

Emma completely ignored the bait, choosing instead to stop this exchange in its tracks. “Hook and I are kind of busy,” she said with a lighthearted tone, while turning back around to face Hook. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she called over her shoulder, ”If there’s nothing else, we’ll see you later.”

“You mark my words Emma, when he abandons you after taking what he wants, you’re going to look back and regret this moment.”

“He’s stuck around through more shit than you ever did,” she called back, looking straight into Hook’s eyes.

Properly dismissed, Neal stormed off, muttering curses the whole way.

Emma dropped her head to Hook’s chest, exhaling with relief. “That felt good,” she said. 

“Well done, lass, though I’ve yet to see you fail, so I am not surprised Baelfire is no match for you. But perhaps we should make our way back as well,” Hook suggested. “I do believe he will be stirring the pot, come morning. You may want to be there to head off the storm.”

“I don’t care if he goes back to tell everyone, it’s not like it’s a lie, and at least this way, they will know we’re safe, and not missing. With any luck, we’ll be left alone for a bit,” she purred.

“Are you sure your parents will approve of you spending time with a dirty, one-handed pirate with a drinking problem?”

Emma’s head jerked up and she eyed him scrutinously. “First, you need to get Pan and Neal out of your head. Second, the only person who gets to decide who I spend my time with, or how I spend it, is me. And third, how do you know I don’t want you to be dirty,” she teased as she took command of his mouth with her own. 

Not giving him a chance to think further, Emma quickly kissed him again. She slid her tongue past his lips, rolling it against Hook’s, who was quick to reciprocate. She wrapped her lips around his tongue and sucked on it, eliciting one of the sexiest noises she’d ever heard. It was half growling and half begging for more. The buoyancy helped him to easily lift her and she instinctively surrounded his body with her legs.

Hook broke the kiss, in favor of exploration. His hot mouth trailed down Emma’s neck, licking here and nibbling there, never too rough, he didn’t wish to mark her, at least not where it would be visible. He palmed one of her breasts with his hand while running his thumb over her already pebbled peak. “Gods you are perfect,” he murmured before taking her other breast in his mouth and alternating between gently suckling and the graze of his teeth. 

Emma moaned softly in pleasure and torment as Hook worked her up, her clit throbbed and she longed to feel his hand or his mouth between her legs. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she pulled his head back and gazed into his eyes, want and desire evident in her pupils which were blown wide and the way her tongue licked salaciously over her bottom lip before she bit down on it. 

She unwrapped her legs from around Hook’s torso, in favor of standing again. Sliding her hands down his back, she squeezed his ass cheeks before pressing her body against his. “I want you,” she whispered when she felt his hardness against her stomach. Emma reached between them to wrap her hand around his thick length.

“Swan,” Hook choked out, pulling her hand gently away from his overly eager cock. “I really don’t want this to be over before it starts.”

Emma smiled knowingly, the very thought of making him come early amping up her need. “Okay, you lead,” she agreed.

“Come with me.” Hook led her toward the far end of the pond, which was actually far larger than she’d realized. They rounded a large looming rock which cloaked the entrance to a small cave by the shore.

“You just know all the secret spots, don’t you?”

“I discovered many hiding spots over the years I spent on this cursed island,” Hook acknowledged. “I usually walk to this side of the water’s edge to deposit all my belongings before bathing. One can never be too safe with the keeping of his hook.” Extending his hand to Emma, he led her out of the water and into the shelter. 

They entered far enough to have a little privacy, but not so far as to be pitched in blackness. Hook pulled her over to a natural, rock-formed shelf. “Do you want a towel, milady? Perhaps my shirt?”

“I want you,” Emma growled, yanking on his hand and pulling him flush against her body and attacking his mouth again.

“Mmmm, as you wish,” he uttered between ardent kisses. 

Emma whined when he broke away from her again, “Hook!”

“Patience, darling,” he teased. Then he quickly grabbed his jacket and his towel, laying first the jacket down on the cave floor, followed by the towel. “So you don’t get sand in every crack and crevice,” he advised with a mock bow. 

Emma laughed at his naked bow before tackling him to the makeshift bed and straddling his hips. She wove the fingers of her left hand with his right, and wrapped her other hand around his wrist before pinning them above his head. 

She didn’t miss the way he jumped when she embraced his wrist, a fleeting look of helplessness crossing over his face. She kissed him softly, tenderly, wanting to calm his nerves about his perceived flaw. When she felt his body relax against hers, she started to trail kisses across the line of his jaw before veering back up to his ear. “Has anyone ever told you, you are beyond gorgeous?” she whispered before sucking his earlobe into her mouth.

“I tell myself this all the time, but it does sound much lovelier on your luscious lips.”

“These lips?” Emma asked, sitting up just slightly and running her tongue along her bottom lip.

“Aye, the very ones,” Hook struggled to get out of her hold, as he tried leaning up to taste her lips.

Emma kept a firm hold on him though, enjoying this little bit of control. She could feel his cock against her ass, hard for her, twitching each time she nibbled and sucked at his skin. She continued to trail kisses downward, along his neck, across his pecs. His hips thrusted upwards when she bit down on his nipple and flicked her tongue over the sensitive flesh. “Patience,” she mimicked his earlier command. 

Hook’s melodramatic exhale made her giggle as she scooted further down his body, gently rubbing her wet core along his cock. “Bloody hell!” Hook cursed while deftly flipping them over.

“Don’t you want to see what else these luscious lips can do?” she asked with a wicked grin. 

“Gods above, I do. But I swear you will unman me the moment you wrap your lips around me.”

Emma smirked at him, eyes alight with lust.

“You little minx, you like that idea don’t you?” 

“Maybe,” she admitted, a confession really, despite the ambiguity of the answer. She’d already resumed stroking him.

“Fuck,” Hook hissed at her touch. He was torn between his ego needing to pleasure her first and his baser instincts demanding he let her do her worst. 

Emma watched Hook, saw him struggle with the decision, his eyes squeezing shut when she ran her thumb over his tip. Without waiting for his answer, Emma rolled them back over and licked from his base to his tip before sucking the head of his cock into her mouth while continuing to pump him.

  Her clit ached as she reveled in the wrecked expression on his face, Hook was watching her every move, lip pinned between his teeth as he struggled to hold out. She knew he was close when his hand balled into a white knuckled fist on his stomach and she gently cupped his balls to massage them. The sound that left his mouth was positively feral as he came hard, warm and wet in her mouth.

She savored the moment, he hadn’t lasted long, and she’d been the one to do that to him. But that was all she had, a fleeting moment before she was being rolled to her back. 

Hook held her in his blunted arm and dove in for a kiss, not caring at all that his taste was still on her tongue. He smiled against her lips when he felt her spreading her legs beneath him. “Eager, are we?” he asked between kisses.

“Don’t tease,” she panted into his mouth.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Hook slowly caressed his hand down her neck, stopping to play with her breasts for just a moment before continuing down to where he knew she was desperate to be touched. He parted her lips with two fingers and slid his middle finger into the warm wetness waiting for him. “Gods, Swan, you’re soaked.” His cock was already coming back to life as he thought about sliding into her wet heat.

Emma’s eyes rolled shut as Hook massaged her clit with her slippery wetness and any response she could’ve made was forgotten. Her mouth parted with an involuntary whimper when he switched it up, suddenly, but oh so easily slipping two fingers deep inside her. She contracted around his fingers, then pushed down, welcoming the penetration. 

Hook fucked her with his fingers, circling his thumb over her clit, while watching her cheeks flush pink and her breasts bounce as she rode his hand. Longing to taste her, he repositioned himself between her legs, chuckling at her whine of protest when he had to stop for a moment. 

“Oh fuck,” she panted when he resumed loving her clit, this time with his tongue. He alternated between licks and flicks and sucking. Emma’s head spun dizzily, she’d experienced oral sex, but apparently she had never experienced mind blowing oral sex. She threaded both hands into his hair and tried desperately not to be too rough. “Oh my god, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”

Hook chose that moment to thrust his fingers back inside her and Emma was gone, she came harder than she ever had, warm and tingly and wet as Hook continued to thrust his fingers into her and suck on her clit. She saw stars or dots or something behind her eyelids and there was a rush of waves nearby, or maybe that was just the adrenaline coursing in her ears. The little aftershocks pulsing and throbbing in her clit were heavenly and oh my god, that was fucking amazing, she thought.

“Get up here,” she purred, pulling on his hair.

“It seems someone was just as primed as I was,” Hook smirked as he slid back up the length of her body.

Emma silenced his smugness by wrapping her legs around waist and flipping him to his back. The rush of air that left Hook’s chest made her chuckle as she placed her hands on his cheeks and whispered to him between kisses. “Well, you’re very, very skilled,” she praised.

“You set the bar very high, love.”

Emma beamed at his compliment, her cheeks warming. She wasn’t sure what it was about this man that made her feel unlike she’d ever felt with another man. Like she was special and desired, it made her feel sexually free in a way she never had. Sitting astride Hook’s solid body, she caressed her hands along his chest, exploring his now dry chest hair, it was just as thick and glorious as she’d imagined. 

Emma could see the scars littering his flesh and she’d felt more when they’d been in the water and her hands had explored the expanse of his back. She wondered how rough his life had been to have this many physical scars. Her heart constricted a bit at that thought, especially already knowing he had just as many emotional scars as she did. She was both taken aback and a little frightened when she realized she wanted to know so much more about Hook. Maybe it was time to stop running from good things, Emma thought, her mind once again weighing the pros and cons of a relationship. Her train of thought was lewdly interrupted by a thrust of Hook’s hips, his hardness tapping at her back.

“Ready so soon, pirate,” she said in a husky tone while rising up on her knees and guiding him to her core. She ran the tip of his cock through her wet folds, both of them moaning with unadulterated lust. 

“Fuck yes,” he growled, thrusting his hips upward again. 

Emma cried out as his tip slipped inside her, a wave of arousal pooling and her belly tightening with want. She slid down his generous length, slowly savoring the drag against her slippery walls. She planted both hands on his chest and stilled her movements when he was fully seated, adjusting to his size. 

“You alright, love?” Hook asked, squeezing her hip gently while he circled his thumb over her hip bone.

She nodded her head and opened her eyes, which she didn’t realize she’d shut, to gaze down at the gorgeous man below her. “You feel good,” she praised, lifting her hips and sinking back down on to him. Emma set a languid pace, delighting in the sensation of fucking, the drag along her walls, angling herself so he hit that spot.

“That’s it, lass, take what you want,” Hook encouraged as Emma rode him; slowly at first, then building in pace as her cheeks flushed and a light sheen of sweat broke out across her forehead. He wished, not for the first time tonight, to be able to touch her with two hands. He encouraged her to touch her breasts as he changed course to play with her clit. 

Emma’s thighs began to burn as she worked to bring them both to that sweet edge of release, and the delicious friction between them built higher and higher. She palmed her breasts, tweaking her nipples and watched as Hook thumbed her clit in time with her thrusts. His hooded eyes roamed her body, and he bit down on his lip as he watched his cock disappear inside her heat over and over. She liked watching him watch her and the small grunts he gave each time she impaled herself and ground against him were hot. Emma found herself at the edge of bliss again and she whimpered as Hook began thrusting up into her.

Hook was having a hard time controlling his ardor, he wanted to flip them and plunge deeply into her. She was a vision, flushed pink, sweaty, breasts bouncing as she rode him to the edge. And then he heard her...

“Come with me, Killian,” she panted.

...and he was undone. The plea in her tone as she said his name and the massage of her walls against his cock as she began to come, ended him. He came hard and hot with a cry of her name, filling her with his seed until it began to spill as she continued to ride him through both of their releases. 

As euphoria traveled throughout her body, Emma slumped into Hook’s body. She’d never felt so gratified as her entire being thrummed with bliss. Hook turned them to their sides and kissed her fervently. Wrapping both her arms around him, Emma gave as good as she got, their tongues and lips engaging lovingly. She lost track of all time as they lay together, parting only when they needed breath. “That was-”

Hook covered her mouth much as she had covered his earlier. “Don’t,” he whispered with a pleading look in his eyes.

Emma wrapped her fingers around his palm and removed his hand, giggling quietly. “I didn’t mean it the first time, and I damn sure wouldn’t mean it this time,” she assured him, noting how his shoulders sagged in relief. “I was going to say that was amazing… brilliant,” she murmured into his ear. 

Hook chuckled, remembering the time he’d said those words to her. “Aye, Swan, we still make quite the team.”

Emma could only smile at the seamless harmony that flowed between them. And she kissed him once more before snuggling into him. 

As a sated exhaustion made itself known in her body, Emma rejoiced that it was still dark outside of the cave. A vigorous yawn and stretch wracked her body, and Killian chuckled lightly again.

“Did I wear you out?” 

Emma laughed as the same yawn tore through Hook, no sooner had he spoken his teasing words. “I think we wore each other out,” she snickered. 

“Aye lass, I believe you’re right. How about we get washed up and head back to the Jolly? I’ll give you the captain’s quarters, even though you lost.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Brag much?”

“What is the fun in winning a wager if I cannot gloat?”

“Such a pirate,” she muttered before rolling him to his back again. “How about we share the captain’s quarters?”

“Deal,” Hook accepted without hesitation. 

A half hour later, they were standing in the cave, bathed, and mostly dressed, Hook had gone to get Emma’s clothes for her from the opposite shoreline. 

“Shall we?” Hook asked, offering Emma his hand. He frowned when she made no attempt to move.

“I’d rather…” she started, a blush coloring her cheeks.

“Ah, I understand,” Hook said, quickly understanding. “Shall we head back in separate directions? Or perhaps, I’ll just stay here for a bit and come back later in the morning.”

Emma rolled her eyes again, this time with a bit of frustration, as she placed her hands on her hips. “That is not what I was going to say.”

Hook raised an eyebrow in question, waiting for her to explain.

“Has nothing I’ve said tonight gotten through to you? Or did that mind blowing sex make you forget?” She took his heavier than expected leather duster from where he had it draped over his arm and turned around to lay it out on the cave floor. 

Turning to face Hook again, she cupped his face in both hands. “Let’s recap, I like how you make me feel, I’m not worried about everyone finding out, best oral ever, sensational sex, no running away. I fancy you, Killian.” Emma finished her statement with a gentle kiss.

The gobsmacked look on Hook’s face made her laugh out loud. “I was going to say I’d rather spend the rest of the night here with you. We already know everyone else will know we’re safe. Even if Neal doesn’t outright blab; if Mary Margaret and David start to worry, he won’t hesitate to spill what he knows.” 

“You fancy me, love?”

Despite heavily stroking his ego by admitting he was the best she’d ever been with, it figured the part he’d pick up on was the closest she’d get to any kind of outright confession of feelings. Emma smacked her hand to her forehead. “Yes, Killian, I fancy you. Don’t get all cocky about it.”

“On my honor, I’ll not get cocky,” he promised before leaning in to kiss her, “as I quite fancy you as well. But you already know that.”  

Laying down on his jacket, the two snuggled together, Emma in panties and Hook’s shirt and Hook in his birthday suit.

“You needed to get naked again to go to sleep?” Emma asked with a little sarcasm in her tone.

“I’ll have you know that style and comfort do not go hand in hand, Swan. Those leathers, though appealing to the eye, do not make for great sleep clothes. Besides, all pirate’s know the only way to sleep when there’s a lovely lass in his bed, is in the nude. You know… easy access.”

“Why am I not surprised by that, Killian?”

“I’ll never tire of hearing you call me that,” he answered. 

“Killian,” she whispered.

“Aye, love?”

“Nothing, I just wanted you to hear me say it again.”

A boyish smile broke out over Killian’s face as he pulled her in tighter to his side. “Good night, Swan.”

“Goodnight, Killian.”

The End

Tagging some lovely shipmates - please let me know if you don’t want to be tagged - or if you’re reading and want me to tag you. 

@laschatzi @qualitycoffeethings @hookedonapirate @wordsmith-storyweaver @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @wyntereyez @hooklineandswan @teamhook @let-it-raines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard  @tiganasummertree@apromisednightcap  @xemmaloveskillianx @elizabeethan @cocohook38 @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @timeless-love-story @girl-in-a-tiny-box @thesschesthair @galadriel26 @ultraluckycatnd @lifeinahole27 @therooksshiningknight @kday426 @djlbg @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @delightfully-difficult-pirate @thejollyswan @csalltheway @xarandomdreamx @vvbooklady1256 @withheartfulloflove @resident-of-storybrooke @mcakers @gingerchangeling @searchingwardrobes​

[americangodstalk]

Cultural background: Odin

Odin, also known as Woden, Wotan or Waotan, is one of the main gods of Norse mythology.

Son of Borr (son of the first god Buri) and of Bestla (daughter of a jötunn), Odin was responsible for the creation of the world as we know it alongside his two brothers, Vili and Vé. Together they killed the primordial jötunn, Ymir, and used his corpse to form the universe - his flesh becoming the earth, his bones the mountains, his brain the clouds and the maggots eating his carcass the dwarves. When they murdered Ymir, the blood flowing from the giant's body drowned almost all of the other jötunn, resulting in their species becoming fierce ennemies of the gods. Odin and his brothers also created the first humans: Vé gave them faces and five senses, Vili gave them mobility and intelligence/consciousness, while Odin gave them life and minds. Finally, the three brothers created together Asgard, the realm of the gods and one of the nine worlds of Norse cosmogony.

Odin is the leader of the main family of Norse gods, the Aesir, a clan of civilization, war and craft-related deities living in Asgard. As a result, Odin was considered a god of roylaty and nobility, as well as the god of war. Men often prayed to him in order to obtain victory in battle, but since Odin enjoyed deeply feuds they knew he could easily give victory to the opposite side, not caring about fairness or justice but rather about the quality of the fight. It was said that Odin started the war between the Aesir and the Vanir (the second clan of gods, associated with nature, fertility and weather) by throwing his spear at a Vanir living among the Aesir. One of his domains in Asgard was Valhöll or Walhalla (the "halls of the slained ones"), a paradise-like afterlife for those that died in battle or while fighting. These dead would become the einherjar, the elite warriors of Odin's personal army, spending their time fighting each other (but healing and resurecting each evening) and feasting on never-ending supplies of meat and food. This afterlife was so sought by the Norsemen that some warriors who failed to die at war were known to kill themselves with their own spears to become einherjar.

Odin is known to be married to Frigg, a beautiful and graceful goddess of foresight and wisdom, but he had numerous love affairs with goddesses, female jötunn and mortal women, resulting in the birth of numerous gods of the Aesir pantheon: Thor, Baldur, Tyr, Heimdall, Ull... Usually appearing as a grey-haired and bearded old man wearing a large hat and a blue cloak, he liked to travel through Midgard (the world of humans) as a simple mortal, to either test people's hospitality or seduce women (many Norsemen liked to claim they descended from Odin to give themselves a higher social status). Odin owned several fabulous treasures, which included Gungnir, a spear that never misses nor stop until it reaches its target, Draupnir, a gold ring that produces every nine nights eight replicas of itself, and Sleipnir, an eight-legged horse as fast as lightning and able to run across water or through the air.

Odin was also known as a spiritual god. He was the god of poetry, guardian of the mead of poetry (that he stole through trickery, transformation and seduction from the dwarves who created it) and able to gift both gods and men with inspiration or the talent to write or sing. He was a god of wisdom: not only did he sacrificed one of his eyes to drink from Mimir's well, whose magic waters made him knowledgeable and wise, but he also hanged himself from one of the branches of Yggdrasil, the World-Tree, with his own spear piercing his torso, for nine days and nine nights, as a sacrifice to himself. This particular operation, on top of making him the god of gallows and hanged men, and confering him even more wisdom, helped him invent the runes, a form of primitive alphabet used to cast spells. Indeed, Odin was also the god of magic, recognized as a seer and a wizard. He was the master of seidr, a form of ritualistic magic able to shape fate for good, neutral and negative purpose, and which allowed him to see or know the future and curse his ennemies with death, sickness or bad luck. It should be noted that the seidr was seen as a female practice, and considered dishonorable for a man to practice as it would be a cowardly form of cheat (Norsemen were encouraged to fight in more honest and virtuous ways, with weapons or their physical strength). Due to his strong association with the death (god of the slained warriors, god of the gallows) Odin was also a practicioner of what would be called today necromancy known as the "lord of the ghosts": he could resurrect the dead (especially if they had been hanged) and enchanted Mimir's cut head so it would keep speaking even without a body.

Odin had an impressive collection of powers through his knowledge of seidr, runes and other forms of magic. Some of his abilities included turning enemies blind, deaf, paralyzed or mad, taking numerous shapes, stopping arrows through mid-air, turning warriors into invulnerable beings, or letting his mind travel through the world under the shape of an animal while his original body stayed in a form of trance. In the Germanic tradition, Odin was the leader of the Wild Hunt (Wodans Jagd), a celestial and supernatural hunt through the sky that manifested itself as violent storms. Odin does not need to eat, merely to drink wine: all of the meat that is served to him is actually given to his two wolves, Freki and Geri, always sitting at his feet. Another defining trait of Odin is his omniscience: when he sits on his throne, Hlidskialf, he can see the nine worlds all at once, and every morning his two crows, Huginn (Thought) and Muninn (Memory) leave Asgard to explore the other worlds, coming back in the evening to tell the Aesir lord everything that happened in the universe.

While recognized as a wise, generous, brave and powerful god, Odin was also said to be prideful, cunning, selfish, cruel and a trickster. In fact, he was considered to be the most frightening of all of the gods, humans dreading him greatly. It is said that at Ragnarök, the end of times, he will lead the Aesir, Vanir and einherjar into battle against the forces seeking to destroy the universe, and die swallowed alive by Fenrir, the giant wolf.

The important and ancient character of this deity can be noted through his names: experts have currently collected more than 170 names and nicknames given to the gods (his most common being "All-Father", a title representing his role as the creator of the world, gods and humans). While the Romans identified him with the god of Mercury, many have pointed out that his role would be more similar to the one of Jupiter. The word Wednesday derives from Odin's Germanic name Woden (''Wodnesdaeg'', the day of Woden - for originally, Wednesday was ''dies Mercurii'', the day of Mercury).

[kpopfanfictrash]

Erebus

Member: Jimin (BTS)

Prompt: Song!drabble, inspired by Jackie and Wilson, Hozier

Rating: PG-13

Idea: Criminal!AU

WC: 2,503

↳ part of my 30K milestone drabble game

Park Jimin had never been described as a patient man.

When he was younger, this was attributed to him as a bad thing; said with all the weariness only first-time parents could muster. As he grew, Jimin learned to wear his weakness as a weapon. No, he was not patient.

Jimin did not wait for things to happen; instead, he made them happen.

One leg crossed over the other, Park Jimin tapped his foot to the floor. The shoes he wore were immaculate, nary a scuff on their leather – purposeful, on his end. People tended not to ask questions when a person’s shoes were well-kept. At least, those were the rules in this particular establishment.

At the back of the room, a single door opened and through it, stepped a nicely groomed man in a suit. All bank employees at Rothman’s were nicely groomed in order to ensure nicely groomed men became customers. Before the door could swing shut behind him, Jimin caught a glimpse of the room just beyond.

Aside from a blink, his expression was entirely neutral.

“Everything seems to be in order here,” said the man, not bothering to sit at the desk in between them. Thumbs brushing the paperwork, he pretending to read every document. In reality, Jimin knew his actions were as much a bluff as his own.

“Excellent.” Jimin stood from his chair. “Shall we return to the bank floor?”

Ten minutes ago, the pair had left the bank to enter this room. Jimin had requested a private audience with a specialist to inquire after a unique line of credit. The man in the room was the only credit specialist in the bank.

Nodding once, the man agreeably turned and – still quite agreeably – Jimin pressed his gun against the small of his back.

The man tensed.

“Now,” Jimin said, lips brushing his ear. “Have you ever seen the aftermath of a bullet embedded in a man’s spine?”

“N-no.”

“I see.” Jimin spoke plainly. “Would you like to?”

“No!”

“Even better.” His smile widened. “Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be, then.”

Wisely, the banker chose not to respond.

Paused, Jimin listened for the distant tolling of bells. St. Tanir’s Cathedral rang precisely every hour, on the hour. The hour in question was 11:00 AM, which was the agreed-upon time for the occasion. 11:10 AM was when the guards switched for lunch and someone might be able to sneak into their rooms unawares.

“We’re going to turn around,” Jimin said quietly. “And you’re going to let me into the next room with that key around your neck.”

The man’s gaze shifted sideways. “It won’t matter,” he said resolutely. “I don’t have the key to the safe.”

Jimin chuckled. “Obviously not. That would be too tempting for you.”

The banker seemed mildly affronted by this, but Jimin did not care. The banker was a man, after all and all men could be tempted. Together, the two walked across the room – one of them respectable, one decidedly not.

At the door to the next room, the banker paused.

Jimin leaned in. “If you’re imagining yelling for help, I wouldn’t.”

Swallowing hard, a lump ticked his throat. At last, the banker located the key hidden within the depths of his clothing and slid this into the lock. It opened with a click, just as it had when the man entered. Jimin pushed them both forward.

In any other circumstances, Jimin might have picked the lock himself. It would have taken him only a few moments, but time was of the essence today. Besides, the banker could prove to be useful leverage in a pinch.

As they entered the next room, Jimin saw it was bare – conspicuously so. He smiled.

It had taken Jimin a long time to track the crimson diamond. So called, because its pathway through history had been soaked with its blood. The last known sighting was with Edgar Von Welsh, aged 87. He was charged with transporting the priceless commodity from Wixin to Rakkir some forty years back. Obviously, Edgar was interrupted. Since then, sightings of the diamond have been based on rumors and hearsay.

Not that this dissuaded Jimin in any way from seeking it out. He, himself was a creature of rumor and hearsay – like calls to like, as they say.

It was clever of the government though, to stage their disappearing act. Before the diamond was taken, it was easily located by the best thieves and criminals. Criminals are a notoriously chatty bunch. In a society where currency holds little value against knives in the alley, reputation is everything. The crimson diamond became known for how many times it changed hands.

Until it disappeared.

Teeth gritted, Jimin searched the room.

Even amongst criminals, Jimin was considered an oddity. People knew him but could never be certain of the objects he stole. This was because Jimin rarely kept his treasures. Take the crimson diamond, for instance. Its bloody trail began when it was stolen from the famed mines of Antifa, herself. Ripped from its native land and placed in the crown of a foreign King.

As soon as Antifa was freed from this King’s rule, high-ranking members of their council sought an audience with Jimin. He accepted the mission on principle – although the finder’s fee they agreed to pay him did help.

Casually, Jimin prodded the man forward. “I’m going to release you,” he said, still utterly calm. “You will not make a sound. If you try to run, I will shoot you. If you make a single sound, I will shoot you. If you so much as breathe loudly, I will knock you out – and then shoot you. Do you understand?”

Chin wobbling a bit, the man nodded.

Jimin surveyed him a moment, then turned to the wall. “You’re weighing your options right now, aren’t you?” Cocking his head, he stepped forward. “Attempting to figure out how fast I am. Thinking to yourself, ‘what if I ran while he’s distracted with the lock?’” Jimin made a tsk-ing sound beneath his breath. “These are all the wrong things to think.”

In the corner of his eye, Jimin saw the man blink. “That’s not what I was thinking,” the man said, entirely unconvincingly.

“It was,” Jimin said, his boredom clear. With a flick of his wrist, twin silver picks fell into his palm. “It was a stupid thought, though and let me tell you why. I’m a much faster shot than you can move.” Feeling along the wall, Jimin paused. “By the time a single syllable passed your lips, my bullets would have erased the rest of the word. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.” Jimin smiled, locating the near-undetectable seam. “Erebus.”

The man paled.

Jimin nearly laughed. “Ah, so you have heard of me. Good. Perhaps you know this already, then,” he drawled, inserting one of his picks into the lock. “But do you know where my name comes from?”

Barely audible, the man said, “The god of shadows.”

“Very good.” Inserting the other pick, Jimin waited for the humble click of success. “More of a primordial deity than a god, but who am I to quibble? Do you know why I am named as such?”

The man shook his head.

Jimin sighed. How tedious, to spread his own legacy. “There are many types of darkness. The inside of a safe, for example,” he said, cracking open the door. “Or the eternal darkness to which we all shall return.” Grabbing the diamond, Jimin turned towards the banker. “And then, there are shadows. Both existing and not, both living and dead. That is what I am.”

With one hand, Jimin tucked the flawless diamond into the waistband of his coat. The banker’s gaze flickered once to its pocket.

Although his throat remained dry, the banker managed to swallow. “You’re both… living and not?”

“Correct, Mr. Johnson.” Jimin shut the safe, ignoring how the banker jumped. Clearly, he did not expect Jimin to know him, but Jimin knew many things he should not. “I exist in your world, obviously – the land of the living. And then – the door, please,” he said, gesturing with his gun.

Mutely, the banker pulled down on the handle.

“And then,” Jimin said, stepping behind him. The barrel of his gun re-found the man’s back. “I also exist underground. Dealing in lies, deception, trickery. The sort of work despised by the living.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” the man asked, gaze fixed on the door.

“Maybe I’m bored.” Jimin glanced up at the clock. “Or, maybe I’m stalling for time.”

It was at this precise moment alarm bells rang out.

Lowering his gun, Jimin intended to tell the man to return to the front. Had he obeyed, Jimin would have let him leave – but instead, the man experienced a moment of extreme stupidity. Or bravery. It was often difficult to tell the two apart.

Whirling, the man dove for Jimin’s waistcoat. Having been expecting this, Jimin stepped aside – and was promptly socked in the jaw, which Jimin had not been expecting. Exhaling through clenched teeth, Jimin straightened.

The man swung again at his face.

“I take it you’re not Mr. Johnson?” Jimin asked, grabbing his punch.

Smart, to pose a trained operative as the teller. Jimin should have been expecting this – it niggled the back of his brain he had not. It was unusual for Jimin to miscalculate variables.

Shoving his hand in Jimin’s coat, the man looked up in alarm. “Where is it?” breathed not-Mr. Johnson. “What did you do with the diamond!”

Releasing a sigh of disappointment, Jimin allowed himself to be fondled. Once the man had thoroughly exhausted the inside of his waistcoat, Jimin retracted and backhanded his face. Releasing his coat with a cry, the man staggered backwards.

Slowly, Jimin walked forward. “As though it would be so easy.” With a twist of his fingers, the diamond appeared in his grasp. Before the man could take it, Jimin vanished it easily. “My original plan was to leave you intact.”

The man did pale then. Jimin cursed himself for not having noticed the difference.

Gaze flat, the light fled from Jimin’s eyes – along with his mercy. “But now,” he said smoothly. “You’ve cost me valuable time.”

The man whimpered, the sound breaking past his now-trembling lips. Drawing a hand backwards, Jimin pointed his gun – only to bring its handle down on his head. The man instantly slumped, rendered unconscious. With any luck, he would not remember these proceedings.

Stepping over his body, Jimin dusted off his hands. “As though I would bloody them for him,” he muttered – to himself, since there was no one else present.

Entering the first room, Jimin peered down the hall. The Bank was in predictable chaos. Alarm bells rang out overhead – the insistent tone which signaled someone having breached the Royal vault. Flipping down his collar, Jimin melted into the crowd. Merely another customer, afraid for his life.

Three security men ran past him, each talking excitedly into their earpieces. “Close off all civilian entrances,” they declared. “Alarm was tripped in section A7.”

Jimin’s lips quirked. A rather brilliant idea, on his end – few knew this Bank housed two separate vaults, one of them directly across town from here. It was a failsafe on the Bank’s end, a way to ensure their money was never held entirely in one place. On the other hand, this meant their forces were often divided.

At precisely 11:00 AM, while Jimin was stealing the diamond, someone else snuck into the security center and tripped an alarm for the vault across town. At that minute, security was assembling to leave their bank and assist the other – or, they would be until vault A7 was reached and they discovered nothing was missing.

Jimin needed to be gone before then.

Hurrying his stride, Jimin kept his head down and walked behind security. They provided an excellent cover for him, moving through the back hallways – until he reached Conference Room B and ducked sideways. Just past its door, a blue lump of clothing was bundled onto the floor. Jimin changed as fast as possible before he re-entered the hall.

Gaze on the ground, he blended into security. When one shoved open the back door, Jimin stepped out of the way and bent to tie his shoe. “I’ll catch the next one,” he mumbled, waving them on.

As they piled into the armored van and pulled from the bank, Jimin straightened. His pulse beat, thump-thump against his chest. Squinting down the back alley, he wondered where in the hell you were – and then an armored car – license plate A7J893 – came into view.

Gripping the handle, Jimin yanked open the door and climbed swiftly inside.

You wasted no time, slamming your foot on the gas and heading towards the gate. The disgruntled security you left behind could not be helped – soon, they would have bigger problems to worry about. Namely, the fact that their prized crimson diamond was missing.

As you exited the Bank, Jimin slouched low in his seat. You were the one who did the talking, who waved to the officer on duty as you pulled onto the street. Following the other security vans through the city, you abruptly turned as you got on the highway.

Jimin exhaled beside you, a low hiss of breath. “Fuck,” he muttered, eyes wide. “We did it.”

Snorting, you reached up to remove your blonde wig. Shaking your head, your natural tresses spilled out – Jimin could not help it, he leaned over to kiss you.

If you were not the most competent driver in the business, he wouldn’t have risked it – but you were, so he did. Lips parting yours, Jimin’s mouth moved with yours breathlessly until you shoved at his chest.

“Jimin!” you said, collapsing back on your seat. The car had not moved an inch. “Wait until we ditch this car, at least.”

“Did you disable the tracker?”

You cast him a dry look. “Is this my first getaway?”

Jimin grinned. “Apologies. I just find it unbelievably sexy when you fool a bank full of men.”

The corner of your lip quirked. That was your specialty.

While Jimin was the locksmith, the trickster and planner, you were his hacker, driver and master of deception. While Jimin was stealing the diamond, you snuck into the security office to trip the alarm – not to mention, snag him a uniform and van for escape.

Shifting in his seat, Jimin tried to hide his arousal.

Despite this, you shot him a knowing glance. “Wait until the warehouse,” you said once again. “Then you can have me as much as you like.”

Jimin’s gaze softened, taking in your expression. He still found it baffling each time he realized you were his. Like all shadows, he had a singular tether to the world of the living. You were his – you always had been.

“Promise?” he murmured, reaching out for your hand.

“Promise,” you said, fingers curling in his.

  © kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[hanawrites404]

Wynne's Diary - Bonds with Asra

@sweetalnazar

This place was fucking sickening, first of all. The small wooden cabin was dimly lit with yellow and vermilion lamps, tinting the room with similar colour as the fizzy nauseous drink settled in front of me. The prickling stench of strong alcohol and hot sweat was evident in the air, with deafening shanties and cheers of both sober and drunk customers buzzing through the whole compartment, leaving a whole aroma of disdain and queasiness.

I told them numerous times it was a bad idea, FOR A TOTAL OF THIRTY TWO TIMES TO BE PRECISE. But NOOOO they HAD TO ignore my reasoning and arrive but also haul me to this fucking cursed place for some sweet fucking lady company and to drink the fucks out of their fucking useless brains. JUST FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC I SAY. THIS HAD TO BE THE BEST DAY EVER!!!!

But even after all this, here I was, a bit tipsy myself from my lemon alcohol as my spouse and his ginger friend was gutting down their sixth shot of salty bitters. I had never liked that drink since it gave off a taste like sweat on the tongue, but as I had no choice to go home without getting even a bit drunk at the raven, so I had chosen the right and just amount of my beverage unlike two hooligans I am sadly aware of.

Yare yare, boys will always be boys. Though both of them were very much older than me. Fucking man-children, I swear.

"Let's see if you can chuck this one out, Asra!" The child nudged the other child's arm with a glass of the horrible liquid in his gloved hand. His pale cheeks were on fire, and so was the case with the other guy. Both were drowning in the booze, while I just calmly yet internally irritatingly watched both of them as I sipped my glass more civilly, trying my best to not pay any mind to them and pretend that I was an unfortunate stranger.

"Oh you are challenging me, Ilya" Asra taunted, shifting closer to the ginger and holding the surface of the goblet and the material of the other man's gloves with his fingers.

"Oh, am I?" The doctor's smirk got bigger as he stroked the other person's nails. Both of them gazed into each other's eyes, to find out who would lose the contact. I just sighed and yawned a bit. Though the shanties were ear-piercing, they bored me and certainly weren't feeding my interest. It's not that I didn't like the style of it, but more like it was lacking the feel of home I usually feel when I listen to music.

To me, music was a way to express, to reach out to the world and its natural treasures and wonders, to love and appreciate the miracle known as life. It was like an own language in itself. It was happy, it was melancholic, it was lustful. But it was never expressionless or unpleasant. That would be noise, not music. A violation of our poor fragile eardrums, that would be. But that's a rant for later.

Now, what was this feeling of home you ask? The explanation was very simple. I draw.......similarities of my life from music. I make relations with them, like a bond of my life energy and the power, music holds. I am an expressive person, believe me, or not. I keep my feelings hidden, but that doesn't mean my true passion is never seen under the light. It is seen, but only during the right times when I feel no one would question me for my openness. Now that's the feeling of home, where I can do whatever I want, however, I want to, yet I don't feel like an outcast or a stranger dancing in nowhere. Now that's home for me.

And this fucking shanty wasn't entertaining me at all. I'm sorry.

But I still appreciate the hard work the musicians were doing to entertain others here at the raven. I can at least give them tips for that. Lots of tips so they could know someone deeply pities them. However, I would never dare to order them to stop the music and go home. It's almost equal to burying someone alive, and I am not a bad person. I'm just mean. There is a difference, ok? Good? Good.

"There ya go, that's my brave magician" Julian patted Asra's back who was now chugging down what I suspected as, the tenth shot. He was breathless when he slammed down the glass on the table, his hair in front of his face and a bit of cough escaping from his lips.

"There there, you made it Asra. You made it. I lost the bet. You happy now?" Ilya lightly punched his back as Asra tried to cough the burn on his throat and attempted to breathe in and out. Now what kind of bet were they talking about and why I wasn't aware of it, I wondered. Was I...... becoming an outcast among them??

I rested my head on my palm, my eyes staring at Ilya, then at Asra. They were having drinking competitions together all the time and goofing around like good friends while here I was, zoning in and out, ranting about shanties and counting the bubbles in my leftover drink. Why was I here at all? Shouldn't I just leave and let them have their hangouts and hangovers? Shouldn't I just have a good night sleep and let my husband and his friend return home drunk and messed up and find them in the morning collapsed near the door naked??? I didn't know.

But...I guess both the options sounded equally right at that time.

As I saw Julian leading Asra to the front stage near the musicians, and pushing him on his feet for a boost. Looks like he was urging Asra to sing as the members readied their instruments.

I.....had never heard Asra sing before. And I wondered why he suddenly decided to sing now, in front of so many unknown people. Was it the liquor taking over him?? Or was it because I never asked him to sing, he didn't do for me. But he was doing for Ilya because he asked him so?

And again...I thought both the options sounded equally right.

I began to leave, I didn't want any more disappointment to mist over me now, also I was feeling quite tired. I was done for tonight, my hand reaching out to grab my cloak and pull it over myself and exit through the door, already preparing my mind to forget them till the next morning arrives.

But I stopped, as soon as I heard something calling me.

Home.......

"Wynne...I know you want to leave. But please listen to this before you go and have a good sleep, okay?" I heard the shameless moron speak. Now, what was he trying to pull from his trickery sleeves??? Another shanty?? Please don't.

But......what I next heard from him genuinely formed goosebumps on my skin........

He was singing a song...... but not an ordinary song.......

It was our song......It was Home!

I turned to him, my hair gently swaying with the cool breeze that entered the raven from the alleys. Asra had his eyes closed, and he was in blissful peace. His hands were on his chest, where his heart was, and his voice cooed like the hymn of angels.

He was singing our song, the song we both made, the song we both created.

The song which tells the story of our unbreakable bond.

Through ups and downs, through crests and troughs, through mountains and seas. Our love was like a river, it flowed evergreen. We fought, we loved, we hurt, we healed. That was our journey and it all started with a melody.

We had nothing to lose, and we had a lot to share. We had nothing in our minds but affection and care. It may sound ridiculous, it may sound weird, but who was to know how much we have endeared.

This is a bad poem, I think so too. But a tale shared by a couple of two. I glanced at him and he glanced at me, and I saw our hearts set free.

Leaning near the walls I smiled and looked nowhere, but he sang his heart out everywhere.

But he was a voyager, he was meant to roam.

And he being a madman, spoke of our home.........

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Oh okay, good to know! I was actually wanting to ask for some platonic friendship headcanons for Maokai and Malphite, probably with someone who’s a bit of a stubborn smartass but will shank any bitch who messes with their tree/mountain friend? Thank you! ❤️

Okay, I’ve never thought I’d write for Mr. Tree or Mr. Mountain, but this is gonna be pretty fun! And it also made me read up a bit on their lore, and honestly, I thought their temperaments were completely opposite from what they actually are!

---MAOKAI

Poor Maokai had to witness everything and everyone around him be corrupted into undead, while only he remain alive and still sane, thanks to the water of life that was infused into his heartwood.

Witnessing the irresponsibility of humankind messing with the sacred reservoir of life and magic, even as much as destroying it...Needless to say, he now holds a never-ending grudge on humanity, who robbed him of a home.

When he met you, he wanted to kill you, but he quickly judged that you were no threat to him or to nature, and while yes, he was still wary of you, he decided to let you live.

Time passed, and for some reason, he still didn’t kill you, and despite how much your cheekiness and impertinence annoyed him. 

Honestly, who did you think you are? A puny human like you, so stubborn, so sassy, defying him like that?

No, actually, nevermind that - 

You keeping true to yourself, not afraid to speak up your mind even when faced with such a scary creature like him, that could kill you in the blink of an eye actually amused him greatly.

Very well, human, you have the friendship of Maokai.

He would let you stay on his shoulder while saplings jump all over you.

He would feel rather flattered when you ask him to tell you stories from his life, and you would actually pay attention to him. 

It was great o finally not feel such deep anger, at least for a few moments.

The moment he fully began trusting you was when some rude humans started berating the Tree, and you got in their face, cursing them, berating them and beating them up, because nobody dares to mess with your Tree friend!

Don’t expect him to thank you, but expect him to become incredibly powerful of you.

You are now his human and he will protect you with every fiber of his being.

Now he’s thanking himself for being in a good mood and not killing you, because you’re the only light in his rageful life.

---

MALPHITE

Malphite isn’t a being filled with dread and hatred like Mr. Tree is, and rather said, he’s just incredibly old and powerful and all he’s doing is trying to find a reason to live, to keep on going -

He wants to be useful to someone, but it has to be someone, some cause, that’s worth fighting for, as he is the last being of his kind, and not every request is worth his time, obviously.

An ancient being is still an ancient being, after all, even if he’s just a Mountain...Rock...Golem...

Something.

You meet each other when you sought him out to make your request, and your determination and resolve intrigues him enough to accept being your companion in your quest.

With time, he got to see how you would sass out and beat every enemy that stood in your way with no regret or hesitation, which made him even more convinced that yes, you were the one worthy of his strength and wisdom.

Malphite would start slow, by giving you cryptic advice, warnings, riddles, sayings, and if you understood them, then you get to the next level -

You get to hear stories from his life that somehow can be tied to your adventure, be it with the things that you should learn from other’s mistakes or findings, or how you should go around feelings, or trickery and many others.

If even then, he sees that you’re listening to his teachings, then you are worthy to be considered his little mortal friend.

Once he finds someone brainless enough to insult him, and you step in to kick him the hell out of the place, scolding him for being a fuckass who doesn’t deserve shit, and nobody is allowed to mess with ‘YOUR FRIEND, MR. MOUNTAIN’, he kinda lost it from both amusement and content.

From then on, you get a privilege that nobody ever got to live, and that is to have him as their life-long friend.

Malphite vows to always be there for you whenever you need him, no matter the request.

When he hears that all you need is his friendship, his ancient heart flutters in happiness.

Perhaps he found a cause worthy of him, and the treasure he got was all that he needed anymore.

[dwollsadventures]

Drakes are the other dragon of Scandinavia and Germany. They are the result of cross-pollination between native lindworms and foreign dragons, literally and figuratively. Drake has a bunch of variants in other languages, including dreki in Old Norse, but they're all derived from the Latin "draco". Because of this, drakes inherited a bunch of traits not seen in lindworms such as their wings and fiery breath/tails (though not all drakes are firedrakes). Like their cousins drakes have a hoarding instinct. For them, it's turned up to the nth degree. They are highly territorial and will fly around on fire at night to signal their territory. This unintentionally leads to people seeing firedrakes in the sky at night and taking them as signs of treasure. This folktale is common in many places, including Denmark, Sweden, and England (among others). Most of the time they hide in barrows or hollowed out hills to store their gold.

Drakes play a number of important roles in the sagas of old. There we can see drakes are often made when greedy people come into the possession of cursed gold, transforming them. The most famous example of this transformation being Fafnir. Transformed drakes retain their intelligence and will employ trickery and illusions to protect their precious hoards. When not the result of metamorphosis, drakes build nests for their brood in forests near high peaks. In Thidrek's Saga, a king is stolen by a drake and fed to it's bird-like offspring. Drakes that breath fire are called firedrakes, for obvious reasons. But, they can also have poisonous bites to defend themselves, and their thick tails are deceptively heavy. Because of medieval Europe's lust for Latin and the glory of the Roman Empire, drakes have rooted themselves deeply in many German and English-speaking regions of the world. Even the Norse weren't immune to it, as the dragon Nidhogg is said to rise out of the earth and take to the skies on enormous wings after Ragnarok. In a few regards they're very stereotypical dragons. Despite this, evidence of their roots is still visible in stories of transformed thieves and ghostly fire emanating from holes in the earth. 

Just imagine I animated this, again. Back when I first started getting real into drawing, I somehow got myself stuck into a rut. I didn't want to allow myself to draw anything I thought too "conventional". You can see what I mean if you look back at the old D&D drawings from back in 2017. I think I convinced myself that if it looked too much like a traditional dragon that it'd be selling out, or something equally stupid. Luckily I grew out of that phase. 

This drake looks cool in the air, but it's a bit clumsy on the ground. The talons and weight of the thing also make it unable to perch, so flying through open country air is pretty much the only way to do it. Even though it's kind of lame that you have to always ride Charizard in the air in Let's Go...

Speaking of drake, I like that as a name. The young lad/lass who's journeying the world to befriend all these monsters shall be named Drake.

[dent-de-leon]

I’ve seen you blogging a lot of Dragon Age (and a lot of other ppl I follow too, honestly) and I was wondering if you could tell me a bit about it. It seems pretty cool!

oh ya sure!! oh boy this is gonna be a lot lmao,, but,, Dragon Age is an RPG by Bioware–they also made Mass Effect and Knights of the Old Republic, in case you’ve heard of those–and the DA series are easily some of my favorite video games. They go super in depth with lots of lore and there’s tons of world building,, I’m embarrassed by the number of fantasy Elvin words I know and I can tell you way too much about the history of fake countries cause that’s where I’m at lmao,, 

To try and summarize: the first game is called Dragon Age: Origins, and the focus is very much on fleshing out and playing through a backstory that you handcraft for your PC. You can be everything from an elf trying to reclaim their lost history, to a privileged human of the ruling nobility, a sheltered mage that’s locked away from the rest of the world for “their own good,” a dwarf just trying to survive whose always been a fighter at heart–skilled enough to champion a tournament, and so on. I played the City Elf origin and it just about killed me. 

The appeal here is you can start with various different branching paths and backstories, all of which culminate in your character becoming a Grey Warden. Essentially, DA has these monstrous sort of demonic creatures called darkspawn and usually they’re very disorganized and attack at random. But sometimes there’s a more powerful demon that can connect to them and control them as a kind of hive mind; they become a more organized army force, and spread a “Blight” and its taint wherever they go–it causes sickness and a long suffering death, makes the land completely uninhabitable, lots of bad shit. There’s only been four Blights before Origins, so they’re pretty rare, usually centuries apart. 

In the event of a Blight, the only thing that can stop the lead demon and its army is a Grey Warden. They’re a,, supposedly “neutral” party in political affairs; they’re meant to be an outside force from other armies and they aren’t divided by nations or anything, if you’re a Warden, you’re a Warden everywhere. So they’re also kinda above the law. Wardens can requisition land and resources, forcibly recruit condemned criminals and high ranking nobles alike–“anything to stop the Blight.” They’re elite warriors, and the only ones who can actually sense the darkspawn. That’s because they’re already tainted by them. You drink some darkspawn blood,, probably you die, but maybe you don’t,, and if you survive,, congrats!! You’re in the Wardens. Forever. You can run, but they’ll probably find you. There’s really no running from the fact that the taint will get you eventually in a few decades though. In Origins you end up being one of the only two surviving Wardens left to defend the country of Ferelden during the Fifth Blight–you have to travel the country, gather allies, try to prove you’re not a war criminal, save the whole world, and don’t forget to pet your dog :’) 

Dragon Age 2 is a lot simpler to talk about with all that context out of the way–you’re Hawke, a Ferelden refugee fleeing from the Fifth Blight. The Warden saves the world and everyone throws a big party just as you’re getting settled in your new city. Kirkwall is…a lot,, real creepy place. Maybe it’s that it used to be the center of the Imperium’s slave trade and is still called “The City of Chains.” Maybe it’s all the centuries of blood magic and death that’s seeped into the walls. Maybe it’s those architecture plans you find for the city that point out it’s been built in the shape of one big magical glyph. But there’s something weird there and the whole place is incredibly unsettling. Way more demons crammed into one city than most of the country combined, templars ready to turn on every mage in sight, there’s a lot happening in that one little place. 

I always say that other Dragon Age games are more about the player, but DA2 is really about your party members. It’s your companions’ stories–Hawke is sort of this unsuspecting bystander that just gets dragged under by all the city’s malevolent machinations. And ultimately–accidentally, so very unfortunately–they wind up at the very epicenter of it all. Maybe it’s about Hawke, a snide, sarcastic refugee just trying to provide for their family and take care of their friends. But it’s probably more so the story of a quintessential Byronic antihero tortured by his past and sparking a war for mage freedom, or a charming pirate captain in search of her mysterious lost treasure and who knows more about the city’s supposed “invaders” than she lets on. Or the silver-tongue dwarf with a love of telling stories, and a penchant for extravagant lies–the narrator of it all, and entirely unreliable. 

At its core, DA2 is about mages and templars. The mages typically being locked away in towers known as Circles because they’re seen as “too powerful, a danger to themselves and others,” etc. They’re guarded by knights that work for the dominant religious order known as Templars. Only the Templars frequently harass and systematically abuse the mages in their charge instead of “protecting” them. Ultimately, it’s also about betrayal and redemption, how far someone can go before they’re beyond redemption, etc. 

DA2 always hits this very melancholic note that neither of the other games quite reach. I think it’s because Origins and Inquisition are very grandiose in scope and scale,, you’re a chosen hero,, you’re saving the world,, the player is incredibly empowered. But in DA2, it really does feel like you have no power. Like you’re just trying to scrape by and look out for the people you care about. Like everything keeps going wrong no matter how hard you try to help, like you’re a failure to your family and somehow lost your friends. DA2 is confined to a single city and so much smaller in scope and scale, but the little glimpses of intimacy that you do get from that unique experience really hits you in the end.

Lastly, there’s Inquisition. You can choose your player’s race like in Origins, but you don’t really get to play out your backstory or anything, you’re just kinda thrown right into it. Inquisition is very go big, so everything is big–lots of exploration, lots of questing, LOTS OF DRAGONS,, THIS GAME IS IMPORTANT SOLELY FOR THE 13.5 DRAGONS YOU GET AS OPPOSED TO THE 1-2 IN EVERY OTHER DRAGON AGE GAME,, SERIOUSLY LACKING ON THE DRAGON PART THERE HONESTLY IT’S KINDA FALSE ADVERTISING,, but yeah I’d say DAI is the most like an open world sort of deal,, very classic high fantasy like Origins (though not so brutal or grisly like Origins), very You are the Chosen Savior stuff,, big departure from Hawke running round the sewers 

DAI builds directly off the previous games and decisions players made in them, but it’s also actually very easy to jump right into with no info on prior games. I’d say it’s also the most user friendly, and it’s probably better for new players to start with it to see how they like the world. Combat and mechanics in Origins can be very tedious, and parts of it just haven’t aged well. DA2 is easier mechanically, but much more punishing and harsh with its consequences. DAI is very forgiving by comparison, and you won’t accidentally get party members killed for the calls you make. And while DAI is very lore heavy, I think it’s the perfect place for newcomers to kind of run around and try to explore the living breathing world crafted from that world. 

The essential plot is that you’re following on the heels of the Mage Templar War, and rogue members from the Chantry (church basically) are looking to upstart the Inquisition again, a huge military organization that waged holy wars back in the day. You end up accidentally being in charge of everything because, and I quote, “You killed everyone who was in charge.” Oh yeah, there’s also demons tearing open rifts from their world into yours and you’ve been blessed/cursed with a magic mark on your hand that makes you the Only One who can close those rifts and save the world. Build your army, get drunk with your friends after slaying dragons, dance with your partner after usurping the empress at her own ball, try not to get torn to pieces by the magic in your own hand, get good at reading tarot cards, and maybe don’t romance the Elven God of Trickery on your first (heartbreaking) play through,, 

Lastly, there’s actually a fair amount of queer characters in DA, which is pretty cool. And a lot of them are romanceable partners for your character, so you can definitely play a queer PC. So,, off the top of my head–Bi characters (and romance options): Leliana and Zevran [Origins], Fenris, Anders, Isabella, Merrill [DA2], and Josephine [Inquisition]. There’s also Iron Bull, and he’s a pan character who’s romanceable in Inqusition. Dorian is gay and romanceable, and Sera is a romanceable lesbian, both also from Inquisition. Krem is a trans man and Maevaris is a trans woman, the former is a side character (and best friend of Iron Bull) in Inquisition, while the latter only appears in supplementary sources like comics, but she does get mentioned from time to time in Inquisition as Dorian’s close friend. Oh! Also--Solas and Josephine’s routes in Inquisition don’t culminate in a sex scene, so lots of people headcanon them as asexual. And you can also swing Dorian’s romance so it doesn’t have a sex scene if you wanna romance him but kinda play an ace Inquisitor, which is cool! Sorry for the long rant lmao but uhhh, I hope this helps?? :’)

[dailycharacteroption]

Seducer (Witch Archetype)

Sexuality is a difficult subject to broach with gaming groups, since you have to consider how each member feels about certain things. Some may want no sexual themes in their game at all, or to allow sex between characters, but gloss over it. A rare few may go to the opposite extreme as well.

All of these are entirely valid ways of viewing things and running games, and like many aspects of roleplaying games, you should understand everyone’s limits and work within them, both as a player and GM.

I say this because today we’re looking at an archetype that dips its toes into sexuality and conceptually cannot be entirely divorced from the subject. I speak of course, of the seducer witch.

The concept of beings of a mystical persuasion drawing those of the gender(s) of their choice into intimate encounters, sometimes as a pretense for more violent acts, is a classic trope in fiction and mythology. More specifically, today we’re looking at the classic image of the sensual enchanter/enchantress through the lens of old magic, the classic charming witch.

This archetype is primarily associated with The Green Mother, one of the fey demigods known as the Eldest and the patron divinity of every part of nature that lures prey. The light of an anglerfish, the sickly sweet nectar of carnivorous plants, the worm-like tongue of a snapping turtle, and yes, even the sensual wiles of a beautiful (or seemingly beautiful) person drawing in another into a trap.

It’s important to remember, however, that not everyone who enters the Green Mother’s embrace is killed or devoured. So too, not every seducer is necessarily a killer or a manipulator. Some may pay homage to divinities or spirits of fertility and passion, rather than of manipulation, behaving accordingly. What is important is that these mages, be they incredibly beautiful or simply charming beyond belief, know how to get what they want with charms both magical and mundane.

 Rather than intellect and knowledge, it is their charm and force of personality which helps them empower their spells and entice that knowledge from their patrons, whom are universally of the deception, enchantment, plant, thorns, or trickery aspect.

Naturally, seducers are blessed by their patron with a hex of charming, and theirs is particularly potent, especially if the target holds attraction for the witch, more so if they have acted on that attraction with them recently.

Channeling passionate energies, these mystics can temporarily overwhelm others with a brief act of passion, typically a kiss. Like their empowered charm hex, this magic is harder to resist the more intimate the victim has been with them.

Finally, these witches never have to worry about privacy when offering their passions, conjuring a magical bower that blocks sight and sound (not to mention most mood-killing weather). The interior, while filled with conjured vegetation, is always soothing and inviting, bolstering the healing of those within. Furthermore, those that engage in acts of passion with the seducer while within find their bodies and minds briefly bolstered thereafter, though not against the magic of the seducer themselves.

Whether you play these witches as lethal lovers, benign sensual healers, or a mix of both, this is a great themed archetype for an enchantment-focused witch, though of course talk with the rest of the group to establish boundaries, as always. For this archetype, I can recommend a strong focus on enchantment-based feats, spells, and hexes, though don’t forget to also branch out for variety and coverage.

 While enchanters that lack charisma exist, relying on their magic to garner allies or lovers, the charisma-based nature of this archetype guarantees that even the most homely of seducers sports an attractive charm in behavior if not in body, useful to know when building characters with it.

  The rain-frenzy of the shark-like adaro people is well-documented, but few outside of their culture know of the other way that storms make their blood rise. The priestess of the Coral Burn clan, Injessa, is a creature of powerful muscle, passion, and curves. Should she be impressed with the strength of even an outsider, she might invite them to receive her boon, a treasured amulet with powers over the ocean, provided they can survive her.

 Contrary to malicious stereotypes, Cenevere The Lover (The Harlot to her enemies) is a strong proponent of medicine and healing, making life safer for all, particularly those who share her other line of work. Her latest project is discovering a way to cure the curse-disease that torments the race of dragons known as taniniver.

 Though called the “Lampad King”, the moody masculine fey prefers the grim solitude favored by the rest of his species. On those occasions where he seeks comfort from others, those unions with the powerful ruler of Nassovyre Caverns give birth to beautiful, yet sullen children of fey lineage, regardless of his lover’s gender.