#harbour water demon

[ilykaveh]

ꨄ︎ . ⋆ MOONLIGHT SONATA !

thoma.

ABOUT: unknowingly summoning a demon has its consequences. you have to hold up your end of the bargain one way or another...

CONTENT: demon ! thoma , sub fem reader , humping, virginity loss, monsterfucking, possessiveness, corruption , cunnilingus, size kink, dp, praise, overstimulation, multiple rounds, dacryphilia, rough towards the end, gaping, breeding, squirting.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

being from a small fishing town just outside of liyue harbour had its difficulties. life was simple, unexciting - you envied the tales you’d heard of women in the city, spending evenings at lavish restaurants and having grandiose tea parties with guest lists containing a plethora of personalities. 

times were especially hard when the bounties from the sea remained scarce, meaning that the exports were low. everybody was becoming increasingly stressed, some even moving away to seek financial growth in some other sectors of teyvat. village elders began to find themselves in ill health, the stress wearing away at them. it was a sorry sight, one you no longer wished to perceive. 

whilst taking a late night walk along the nearby river, something glittering upon the riverbed caught your eye. it was buried under a pile of seaweed, loose mud obscuring it ever so slightly. it took a moment to shake the item free, untangling it from nature’s grasp and discovering what you recognized as a drifting bottle, containing a withered note and a rusty old coin. you dunked the body of the bottle in the shallow stream, admiring how the moonlight reflected off of the object. there was something alluring about it, and if you squinted you were sure you could see the faint glow that it emitted - reminiscent of a halo, though that would turn out to be ironic further down the line. . .

upon returning home, you started to better inspect the bottle, illuminated by the candlelight of your kitchen table. there was no indication that water had seeped past the cork, though the scroll of paper inside seemed to have aged. just how long had this been at sea for?

the cork slid out with a single tug; something that was strange considering how tightly it had appeared to be in there. you retrieved the note with the same amount of ease, carefully unravelling it to reveal a what you couldn’t distinguish as being a message or more concerningly, a warning:

“may those whom this bottle graces forever be blessed,

and be gifted benevolence in his behest;

one summon will gift you just this, so strap in! and 

for as long as you live, good things will always happen.”

you read the short poem over a few times, unsure of what to make of it. sure, you’d heard tales of spirit summoners and their adventures, though had always assumed they were simply make believe, a story utilized by adults in order to haunt or encourage a child’s imagination. it was a struggle to believe that a key to your success, a tool seeming to claim that it possessed the ability to bring greatness back to the village, had fallen right into your lap.

even if you did want to test the waters and try your hand at summoning whichever entity is referring to, you didn’t know how to go about it. all you had received was a measly note lacking decipherable detailing - for all that you knew, it could merely be a tease, a bottle set adrift by some teenagers hoping to mess with an unsuspecting traveler. 

not in the mood to further entertain such childish thoughts, you moved to grasp the bottle once again, wishing to shake the coin out of it. perhaps you could sell it to a merchant and fetch a decent price on the thing. 

confusion consumed you as you found that the coin was already resting on the table next to the withered note. surely you would remember taking it out. . . right? 

shrugging it off as becoming increasingly sleepy, you picked up the coin to inspect it slightly, flipping it in the air and catching it in a fist. it once again caught the light in an eerie manner, but you let it sit on the table and headed off to bed regardless, leaving the bottle and its contents to be dealt with in the morning.

. . .

in all honesty, you’d forgotten about the bottle. you’d had a peaceful night, more so than usual. mornings began with your usual routine, finding yourself brewing a cup of coffee when interrupted by an uproar of noise from inside the village.

flinging the front door open haphazardly, mug still in hand, you went to further investigate the commotion. it seemed as though the early morning fishing boats had already returned, and you instantly feared the worst, especially when taking into account the declining health of many of the town’s fishermen. a crowd had gathered at the docks, and your initial thoughts became immediately disproven.

the smell of fish was one that you were used to, albeit it seemed stronger than you had ever known. the closer that you got to the boats, the more fish that came into your line of vision. compared to the scarcities that the village had been facing, you were astonished that they’d returned with such an unbelievable amount! surely this would keep everybody fed for a week, along with being enough to trade for some serious mora! 

it was only then that your mind began to wander back to the bottle that you’d found; surely these two events were mere coincidences. . . right? perhaps it was simply a blessing from the archons, and nothing more. you recalled tales of entities from another world whom blessed to the regular folk of teyvat before then demanding an astounding price in return. 

the thought of being indebted to such a creature shook you slightly, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach. you did your best to attempt to ration with these negative thoughts, instead reminding yourself that such stories were simply old wive’s tales passed down generation to generation in order to teach their young that they shouldn’t rely on others, but should instead retain a strong persistence and work for whatever it is that they wish for - to not take shortcuts nor back down in the face of difficulty. 

regardless, you went about your day minding your own business. nothing else was out of the ordinary, other than the fact that the entire village grew busier due to the morning’s large intake. the subsequent boats who returned seemed to have similar luck too, which only amplified the workload for everybody. but again, things were fairly regular outside of that. you even took another evening stroll along the same stream that you’d discovered the bottle in, finding it a calming feature of your daily routine. 

afterwards, you returned home as usual. upon unlocking your door, you removed your boots, heading to the kitchen to make yourself a hot beverage.

“hey there, darlin’,” 

an unfamiliar voice caught you off guard. a million thoughts rushed through your mind, instinctively grasping for a kitchen knife, should you need to defend yourself from the stranger in your home. you turned around, shaky hands gripping your makeshift weapon. you were met with a man, taller than yourself, donning a cheeky grin and what appeared to be two short horns. 

“no need for that,” he noted, moving to take the knife out of your hands with ease. “i’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart.” he mumbled something about how stupid humans were before taking a seat at your table. 

“who are you?” your trembling bottom lip told the man all he needed to know: that you’d summoned him without knowing. he picked up the coin that you’d left on the table from the night prior, flipping it and catching it in a fist, exactly the way that you had done. 

“the name’s thoma, and just who might you be?”

your eyes grew wide, scanning memories for a reason as to why the name seemed so familiar. 

“thoma? like the old inazuman fairy story? you’re not real, i must be imagining this,” you insisted, feeling silly for talking to yourself out loud. clearly your mind was playing a cruel trick on you and there was nobody in your home except for yourself. 

“i’m as real as you, darling.” he watched your expression intently, not wanting to come on too strong. “those tales aren’t the most accurate. i just fix people’s problems, promise! my coin finds those in need and gives little humans like you a means to summon me.”

he took your silence as a cue to continue his backstory, watching as you judged the situation to your best ability. 

“i’m not technically from inazuma, you know? born and bred in monstadt! i took a ship to inazuma to visit my father. . .” there came the painful chapter that made thoma’s cheery expression falter for a split second. “i got caught in a shipwreck - i was found by a man who taught me how to best help others, to share the kindness that he extended to me, if you will.” 

thoma cleared his throat, the bright eyed and bushy tailed demeanour returning. 

“he tethered me to this coin, and now i get to travel through the lands and see places i never dreamed of!” you could detect a twinge of pain being masked here, though chose to keep it to yourself. “i help people like you - why do you think there’s an abundance of fish all of a sudden, hmm?”

your heart dropped at that statement. if he’d granted you a favor, you knew that you’d have to pay it back eventually. . . 

“what do you want?” your tone blunt and cold. 

“lighten up, darlin’! i can’t do anything you don’t agree to.”

“i don’t have much i can offer you.” the room fell silent for a moment, and your voice fell to barely above a whisper. “d-do you want me to sleep with you?”

thoma gasped, stunned at your question. “of course not! what kind of demon do you take me for?”

“i- umm,” you stuttered, “i heard stories of your- your kind offering to erase payments for sex, and i just- i’m sorry. i don’t know what else to offer-”

“relax.” thoma interrupted. “i mean, you’re a pretty thing, so i wouldn’t turn it down. but it’s your choice, doll. you get to pick what i take from you. hell, offer me something like that and i’ll stick around a little longer,”

he didn’t think you would listen to the final part of that, for your brain would instead be spinning with ideas of what exactly you could pay in return. 

“so you’d make sure there’s enough fish? i-if i sleep with you?”

thoma didn’t know how to respond, instead giving you space to continue. your gaze averted to the flooring as you admitted:

“because i’m okay with it,”

if you were looking, you would have seen thoma’s eyes darken with lust. he stood up once again, closing the gap between the pair of you. your hands gripped the counter as thoma kissed you with a fervour, lips tasting of sugary treats, though embellished with a salty twinge. upon pulling away from you, the demon licked his lips, eying you up and down. 

“a virgin?” he questioned, hungry gaze feeling almost predatory. your cheeks heated up with embarrassment - whilst thoma wasn’t wrong, you didn’t want to admit it. it felt as though he knew your innermost secrets, all from a simple clashing of teeth. 

“don’ worry, i’ll be gentle,” he continued, lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. his grip on your thighs was firm enough to support you, though tender enough as not to cause you any unnecessary pain. occasionally he squeezed the plush skin, eliciting the cutest little whimpers from you. 

thoma was smirking by the time he had maneuvered you both so that he could rest you on the edge of your table, planting himself between your legs. the bulge in his pants was already becoming prevalent as he began to kiss along your neck, sucking a masterpiece of hickies into your sweet skin. if he was going to be your first, thoma planned to do it right. 

for a demon, he really was benevolent. the nips against the juncture of your neck were playful, though not enough to actually hurt you - they merely tickled. one of his hands pressed your lower half closer to thoma’s body as he allowed you to gyrate your hips against him subconsciously. his heightened senses could almost smell how wet you were for him, able to detect the slick gathering between your legs without so much as taking a peek for himself. his other hand trailed underneath your shirt, tracing unrecognizable shapes into your skin before reaching the hook of your bra. 

thoma took his mouth off of you for a brief moment, allowing him to strip your top half completely bare for him. the demon found himself struggling to think straight, instead overwhelmed by carnal desires to remove the rest of your clothing and plough into your virgin cunt. in a complete contrast to his prior, cheery demeanor, thoma wished to mark you as his property.

he pressed his pelvis closer to you, bulge becoming more and more evident with each passing moment. nimble fingers began to rid you of your remaining clothes; thoma shrugged off his own jacket before throwing his shirt to some unknown location that he could uncover later. 

shortly enough, the pair of you were left in only your respective undergarments. thoma couldn’t help himself but chuckle as he saw the damp patch seeping through your panties, unable to resist making a sly comment. 

“all this just for me, darlin’?” he dragged a finger across your clothed folds, applying enough pressure to make you squirm, though nowhere near the amount that you desired. 

you were already out of your depth. having a man (well, could you even call him such? he was a demon after all) see you in such a vulnerable state felt so foreign, yet at the same time was beyond exhilarating. you felt dizzy, butterflies bursting in your stomach as all you wished for in that moment was to have thoma make you scream. 

his fingers danced over your pebbled nipples, pinching at the hardened buds ever so gently. yet he still fought to contain himself, demon instincts working overtime to corrupt his thoughts. thoma’s hand then made a beeline for your pussy, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties. your pleas of consent went straight to his crotch, fueling his eagerness to devour your drooling cunt. 

as he slid off your underwear, thoma had to bite his lip so as not to groan at the sight. he instantly dropped to his knees, spreading your legs open wider for him to get a better look at you. 

“so fuckin’ cute,” he mumbled under his breath before diving into your weeping pussy. he began by placing a kiss to your clit, followed by kitten licks around the swollen bud, experimenting to discover how you liked it best. you didn’t know what you were expecting, though were pleasantly surprised to discover that your demon seemed to come with a forked tongue that you hadn’t previously noticed. a guttural groan fell from his lips as your hands shot to grip the two black horns protruding from his head, your cunt muffling the sweet sound. you used this as leverage to pull yourself closer to him, and if it weren’t for thoma holding you in place you were certain that you would have fallen right off of the edge of the table.

he changed things up, licking a long stripe up down your slit until he located the tight muscles of your entrance. with the knowledge that you hadn’t laid with another before, thoma decided it best to insert his tongue, lapping up your juices as he prodded the warm muscle against your opening. 

meanwhile, you were reduced to euphoric gasps. you’d only ever played with yourself, and this was a feeling much different to that of which your own hands could conjure. thoma was diligent, not even leaving your clit without attention as he brushed his nose against the twitching nub, one flat palm keeping you spread out for him. the only sounds filling the kitchen were that of your angelic moans and the lewd noises of him slurping at your cunt. before you knew it, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. you tried to hold back, you really did. yet thoma’s mouth was rather heavenly (ironic, considering his demon blood).

“‘m gonna cum,” you whined, grasping thoma’s horns tighter. 

instead of replying, he simply patted your thigh a few times, refusing to stop his ministrations and merely hoping that you catch on to his non-verbal cue. you did just that so perfectly, your pretty pussy fluttering around thoma’s tongue as he continued to eat you through your high. 

you didn’t even notice that your grip remained on his horns until he patted your wrists, signaling that you could let go of him now. he praised you for how well you had done for him, kissing your forehead and ensuring that you were okay.

in all honesty, he would have been happy to call it even right there and then. the taste of your cunt echoing on his tongue was enough for him to retreat to whatever realm that he hailed from and to jack himself off to. but how could he do such a thing when you sat there begging him for more?

there it was again. the primal urge to stretch your cunt and claim you as his territory. the thought of branding you with a mark, officially claiming you as his, even crossed thoma’s mind. he worked to chase away those ideas by tasting your lips again, simultaneously slipping his hand down to your folds once again. 

he coated his middle finger in your slick before aligning it with your hole, continuing to kiss you as a distraction should any pain occur. gently, he circled your entrance before easing his digit into you, massaging your walls as you clamped around him. once satisfied, he added another, beginning to scissor your pussy open, preparing you to take your first cock. 

thoma wanted to hear you, instead pulling away from your mouth and letting you rest your head on his shoulder. he cooed your incoherent babbles, telling you that this was necessary before he could fill you up himself, and reminding you that he wished not to hurt you.

he listened as a ecstatic yelp feel from your lips, indicating to him that he’d discovered your g-spot. as the soft pads of his fingers glided across the sweet spot with each thrust, making the stretch even more bearable for you to take. he could feel the pulsing of your gooey walls, the noises you made reminiscent of those you had previously released as you approached your prior orgasm.

“gonna take another one for me, pretty girl?” he asked, though you couldn’t decipher whether or not he meant another finger or if he just wanted for you to cum again. 

it turns out you were wrong either way, for the demon proceeded to slip another finger into your messy cunt, as well as have his thumb seek out the nub of your clit, massaging sloppy circles in order to push you over the edge. already sensitive from your previous high, it didn’t take you much longer to shout his name, nails scratching his muscular figure as you fell apart on his hand. 

“‘s it,” he muttered, “what a good girl f’me,” 

once you had come down from your second orgasm of the evening, thoma pulled his hand away from your pussy. he lifted your head up to look at your face, admiring the glow that the moonlight bathed you in before wiping away the stray tears caused by how darn sensitive your body already was. 

“that’s enough, mkay? ‘m not gonna make you-”

“no,” you interrupted, voice barely above a whisper. “need all of you, please. i don’ want you to go yet,”

despite already seeming overstimulated and teary-eyed, thoma couldn’t deny such sweet pleas. he opted for laying you back against the table, planting soft kisses along your body as he finally trailed back to your hot cunt. instead of touching you directly, he pressed his lips along your inner thigh, watching your muscles twitch in anticipation. 

“if ya want me to stop, just say so,” he warned before finally slipping off his boxers. 

the way in which he had positioned you allowed for you to see his cock as thoma unclothed, the sight making your jaw slacken. it only further cemented the idea in you head that he was indeed not human, for instead of one he possessed two cocks. you gawked, eyes wide as you felt you walls tighten at the thought of having him in you. each appendage was as large as the other, both ribbed and with a slight barb around the tip. you noticed a thick vein pulsing on the underside, wondering if that was an indicator that the demon was ready to pump you full of his load. 

as thoma approached you again, he sized you up. he rested one of his cocks on your stomach, his pupils dilating as he took not of just how deep he would be inside of you. concurrently your mind was consumed by fears of whether or not you would be able to take even one of his cocks, let alone the pair at once. could your mortal body even take such a stretch?

your fears were chased away by the feeling of his bulbous head pressing against your entrance, thoma running it along your slit a few times just to collect some of your juices. he looked to you for consent, waiting for you to nod before he started to ease himself into you. his other cock remained bobbing around your stomach; thoma would have pumped his fist around it should he not have been so concerned about you instead. 

it felt like a fire had been set ablaze in your belly, tears gracing your lashline as you yelped, yet never once telling him to stop. 

“so tight,” thoma uttered, “you virgins always have the prettiest little pussies,”

you couldn’t even retort if you wanted to, mind going blank as the ridges of thoma’s cock brushed against your sweet spot. he took his time bottoming out, revelling in the spasming of your delightful cunt as you cried out in euphoria. you could feel the barbs around his tip tickling your cervix as he bottomed out.

“look at how well ya did, darlin’,” he praised, smiling at you as you blinked through glassy eyes. “maybe i should try fitting them both in, hmm?”

thoma noted that you made no move to say no, allowing his mind to drift to filthy thoughts of truly breaking you in and how damn gorgeous you would look with a cunt full of his cum. this spurred him to begin moving, dragging his cock out of you at a painfully slow pace. his initial thrusts were shallow, waiting for you to start whining for more before pulling himself almost all the way out, until only his head rest in you, and proceeding to slide his way right back in, once again nestling himself against your cervix. 

he listened to your body, doing his best not to cause you too much pain as he stretched your poor pussy to mold around his cock. he was aware of how sensitive you were, overstimulated before he could even fill you up. 

“go on, cum on me, sweet thing,”

the feeling of you clamping around his cock was a feeling so very different to having you cum on his fingers. it was much more intense, and seemed to finally be his breaking point. you were busy seeing stars as thoma pulled you closer to him, folding you into a sloppy position reminiscent of a mating press, ensuring that he had full access to your exposed cunt as he grabbed his other cock in his fist. 

its tip was already leaking precum, a portion of which had already caused a mess on your lower tummy. he pumped his fist a few times before aligning himself with your hole once again, this time pushing your pussy to its limits as he thrust both of his cocks into you. 

knowing he was not only the first cock you had, but also the second, filled thoma with a sense of pride, encouraging him to continue his assault on your abused cunt. you took him so well, he wanted to stuff you full of his cum. no, scratch that, he needed to fill you with his cum. 

thoma had gone feral, lost his sense of reality as he pounded you like an animal. he used your body, bending it and shifting it so that he could find the best way to bruise your cervix, chasing his own orgasm without any shred of care for you. hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d already cum around his cocks at least once more with how fucking amazing you felt. 

words had truly fleed you, leaving you babbling strings of his name as thoma finally began sensing his orgasm on the horizon. he ploughed into you with inhumane speed, truly exhibiting his demon side unlike you had seen yet tonight. if you were level headed enough to look closely, you could see his emerald irises be overtaken by pure black. 

all that it took was one nudge against a certain spot inside of you, and you began to fall over the edge once again. this orgasm hit harder than the last few, overstimulation having truly set in. your gooey walls held thoma in a vice grip, enough so to trigger his own orgasm as both of his cocks spurted cum against your womb, the warmth feeling comforting to you whilst in your fucked out bliss. the sensation made your pussy gush, a jet of liquid spilling all over thoma and on your table. sloppy thrusts continued as your squirted, waiting until it had died down to a trickle before pulling out of you. 

to say that you were fucked out felt like an understatement. you were exhausted, struggling to move as thoma finished with you. he was intrigued at the way your cunt gaped as he took his cocks out of you, watching ribbons of his cum dribble out of you as you lay unmoving.

he admired your trembling form basking in the moonlight before dealing with you, ensuring he cleaned up and that you got to bed comfortably. the demon even placed a kiss to your forehead once again, this time a silent promise that he’d stick around a while longer.

[pastshadows]

Shadows of the Past

Chapter 15: Home

Summary: After a year of blissful cohabitation, Astarion disappears without a trace, leaving behind a heartfelt letter explaining his departure. Determined to find him, you traverse Faerûn in search of your lost love, only to realize that some absences are meant to be permanent.

Returning to Waterdeep, you find solace in the company of Gale as you come to terms with Astarion's absence. But just as you begin to heal, Astarion reappears, begging for a second chance at love.

The question looms: can you forgive his abandonment and trust him once more? As you grapple with your emotions and trauma, a sinister force lurks in the shadows, targeting you for unknown reasons.

With danger closing in, you must navigate the treacherous waters of trust, love, and betrayal to uncover the truth behind the mysterious entity's motives. Will you be able to reunite with Astarion while facing the demons of your past? Can you unravel the secrets that threaten your very existence?

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 7K

Content: Explicit 18+ - intended for mature audiences.

Warnings: [Additional tags will be added, but expect mature content / read at your own risk.]

Spoilers. Mentions of in-game missable content. Violence. Sexual Assault [Implied/attempted sexual assault: Chapter 7]. Past Trauma. Murder. Death. Longing. Sexual themes. Smut. Blood drinking. Angst. Innuendos. High use of sarcasm. Completely fabricated camp interactions. Panic attacks. Anxiety.

The day is cloudy, obscuring most of the sky, with brief breaks where the clouds crack to let through cerulean rivers and dapples of sunlight. The flames in the fireplace flicker and dance in the breeze coming in off the Great Harbour.  

You flip through another book on vampire covens in Waterdeep. So far, Gale has procured an impressive amount of information, but most of the texts are outdated. You’ve searched crypts and ancient mausoleums and scouted every location mentioned with Shadowheart, but they’ve all been long abandoned dead ends.  

“I brought you lunch.” Shadowheart smiles, nudging the door closed with her hip. “Before you turn your nose up, I made it.”  

“Thanks. Already sick of Gale’s cooking?”  

Shadowheart’s nose wrinkles, and she smirks slyly but refrains from answering. The gleam in her eye tells you all you need to know. She nods toward the book in your lap. “Anything?”  

“No,” you say with a shake of your head. "According to these, most vampire covens in Waterdeep don’t last. They’re either eradicated by something or vanish."

“You’re thinking this is the work of the Vampire Lord we’re looking for?” 

You nod. “Astarion said vampires are territorial. If other covens have tried to make a home in Waterdeep for decades, even centuries, and none have survived, I think whoever we’re looking for predates all of it.”  

“That’s disconcerting.” Shadowheart’s brows furrow, but she sheds her trepidation easily. “We’ll figure it out. We always do. Gale and I sent letters to the others to see if anyone could come and help.”

“If they are able to come, Gale’s going to have a lot of mouths to feed.”  

“And Astarion is going to have to answer for his foolish disappearance.” Shadowheart scoffs with a frown. “I still have half a mind to—“  

“Shadowheart." You cut Shadowheart off as nicely as you can while still sounding assertive. "I know you mean well, and I love you for being so protective, but what happened between Astarion and me is our business. He had his reasons, and maybe I didn’t understand them at the time, but I do now. Furthermore, I understand him better.” 

“You cannot be serious.” Shadowheart retorts sourly. “I swear that man could thrust a dagger through your heart, and you would still find a way to exonerate him with your dying breath.” 

She’s not wrong.

“Please give him the benefit of the doubt.” You swallow the irritation and try pacifying it with the knowledge that her prickliness is her way of showing you she cares. “You must keep in mind that he’s never experienced a relationship before, and he’s still learning who he is as a free man. Some of the blame falls on me too. It might have been prudent to allow him to decide if he wanted to live alone for a while before we moved in together. I might have pushed him too fast.”  

“He could have at least told you he was leaving.” She snorts. “Coward.”  

“That’s enough,” you growl in a warning that you’ve reached your limit of her tartness. You take a deep breath. “None of us can fathom what he’s been through and the scars he carries. He deserves our understanding, not our expectations of what we think he should have done.”

“Fine, ugh, fine,” she replies coolly. Her expression softens. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I’m sorry I ruined your vacation. I know you came to see the House of the Moon, not possibly die helping me fight another vampire.”  

“Do you want to know a secret?” She giggles gleefully with a broad smile. “Retirement has gotten rather boring. I may not have chosen another Vampire Lord as our next foe, but at least we have experience with this particular enemy.”

“Hells below.” You laugh. “I thought I was the only one who found all this lounging around in safety utterly dull!”  

“I hear you and Astarion haven’t been doing much lounging around since he returned.” Shadowheart waggles her brows with a sly, bright grin.  

If you were a more bashful person, your cheeks would be heating, but Shadowheart became your best friend during your travels, and you don’t need to be shy with her.

“Oh,” you smirk smugly, “about that. You may want to reconsider moving your room to the upper floors of the tower with Gale, or I suspect you’ll never get any rest.” 

“You are downright uncivilized, Kamena!” Shadowheart dissolves into a fit of laughter. “I think I will survive. It’s not like you two were exactly quiet in camp, and I’d rather keep a close eye on Hecat.” 

“She’s still here?” Your brows furrow. “I was rather hoping she would take her leave after the whole vampire thing.”

“Me too. Instead, she seems rather keen to help. I haven’t decided yet if she’s an idiot or up to something.” 

You rub your tired eyes. Your nightmares have returned with ferocity, and Astarion has had to wake you up several times every night lately. “We will watch her closely.” 

“You mean you’re going to watch her closely around Astarion?” Shadowheart giggles, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “I saw that at breakfast the other day. She could not stop gawking at him!”

“I know!” You grunt with an exasperated huff. “I could veritably see her undressing him with her eyes. The woman is lucky I didn’t pluck them out with my fork!” 

Shadowheart takes your hand in hers. “Astarion’s heart is yours. It has been since he met you. You have no reason to be worried.” 

“I am not worried about him. I trust him.” You groan and try to push away the little green monster that seems to infect your very essence. You’ve always been a jealous person, although you prefer to call it territorial. Though this is a little much, even for you, “I’m worried about her.” 

“If she lays a hand on him, he will likely cut it off before she can blink.” Shadowheart cajoles, obviously trying to reassure you. 

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “He won’t have time to before I make her spontaneously combust.” 

Shadowheart leans in close, whispering, “You don’t need to worry, Kamena. You’re much prettier than she is.”

You both laugh until your eyes are watery and your cheeks are sore. Shadowheart sits with you, reading a different text and making notes. The words on the page start to blur before your tired eyes.  

“Go rest.” Shadowheart nudges you awake. You didn’t even realize you had slipped into your trance until she roused you. “The books aren’t going anywhere.” 

“Yes.” You nod with a yawn. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Descending the spiral staircase to the lower floor of the manor, Astarion’s voice draws you to the grand sitting room, where he’s chatting with Hecat. For some reason, you don't enter the room and decide to eavesdrop on the conversation. Astarion will undeniably know you’re there, but Hecat wouldn’t have heard you.

What does she say to him when I am not around? 

She asks him questions regarding his vampirism. It makes you uncomfortable, though you cannot put your finger on why. Astarion seems unruffled by her interrogation. In truth, they are rather innocent . She asks simple things like what blood tastes like, if he can eat food, and what it tastes like to him, among other pointless inquiries. Her line of questioning is much like what you imagine a child’s would be.

“Can I see your fangs?” Hecat asks with a chortle.

You smother the urge to stomp into the room and tell her that he’s not a spectacle for her viewing pleasure. You did ask the same thing once, but that was at least after you agreed to be his meal. Gods. If she asks him to bite her, you will surely lose your shit.

Taking a deep breath, you enter the room as nonchalantly as you can, feigning surprise to even see her.

“Afternoon, dragon girl!” She chimes happily. “Your friend and I are getting to know each other a little better. I’ve never seen a vampire that’s not a bloodthirsty maniac.”

Hecat makes a point to emphasize the word friend with all the subtly of a neon sign flashing in a dark hallway, and it makes you fume like a kettle left unattended over an open flame. You can feel the pressure building up to a deafening whistle in your ears, and you’re ready to blow your lid off in frustration.

“Then you don’t really know my friend very well.” You retort with a curt smile, and you’re proud that you manage to keep the bitterness out of your intonation. “He’s just very selective about his meals.”

Astarion cocks his head at you, smirking with a low chuckle. “She is correct. All vampires are bloodthirsty maniacs. I just happen to be a picky, bloodthirsty maniac."

Hecat regards you thoughtfully, and her eyes land on the telltale puncture wounds on your neck that are still in the process of healing. She laughs, looking at Astarion. “By picky, I assume you mean you prefer blood that’s spiced with a hint of draconic fire?”

Your hand shoots up to your neck, the pads of your fingers running over the scabbed skin.

Astarion seems rather bemused by the entire conversation. “I do indeed enjoy spicy food. The hotter, the better.”

“I’m from the Hells.” Hecat remarks confidently with a wolfish grin. “You can’t get much hotter than me.”

The fire in the hearth discharges with a sonorous crack. Embers and sparks eject from the fireplace, making both Hecat and Astarion jump. You have never been more tempted to show her that, though she may hail from the Hells themselves, nothing is hotter than the Hellfire of an angry dragon. You’re not sure if she’s trying to irk you or is just terribly stupid.

Probably a combination of both.

“Excuse us.” Astarion’s drawls as if nothing is amiss, taking your hand, but you don't take your glowering eyes off the Tiefling until she yields, and her eyes snap away in deference.

Astarion virtually drags you away from the interaction before you can decide if murdering this woman might be worth any further trouble it would bring to your doorstep.

You follow him reluctantly back to your room. Before he can lecture you or comment, you blurt out hastily. “Pack some clothes and your things. We’re going to get away from here for a couple of days.” 

“We’re leaving?” Astarion quirks a brow at you. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, given the predicament we find ourselves in?”

“It’s only a couple of days.” You sigh, sitting on the bed, letting your head drop into your hands. “I’m tired, and I need a break. I spoke to Gale about it already. He’s positive they will manage without their fearless leader. If you would rather stay, you don’t have to come.”

“Stay here? With them? Alone? Hardly.” He scoffs, clicking his tongue. “A worse fate than even the kennels. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” 

“Gods. I hate surprises.” Astarion groans with a cheeky grin. “It’s rarely anything good. Surprise! You’re a vampire. Suprise! You’ve been tadpoled and might burst like a boil into a grotesque squid at any moment. Surprise! That sweet, demented old crone is indeed a hag.” 

“I think you’ll like this one, petal.” You tut, smirking back. “If you don’t, feel free to kill me.”

“Hmm.” Astarion taps his lips with his finger. “That’s very tempting. I’m almost convinced. Alright, deal. Lead on.”

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” Astarion groans, bringing the dapple-grey gelding beside your mare. 

“Stop being testy.” You giggle at the frown he shoots you. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

“I am centuries old,” he scoffs, jutting his chin into the air cavalierly. “I did not once say I couldn’t ride. I said I do not like the beasts. Horrid creatures.”

“I do forget how positively ancient you are. Did horses even exist all those long years ago, or Gods forbid, did you have to walk everywhere?”

“Ha-ha!” Astarion’s says sarcastically, curling his lips into a scowl. “You are so very funny, my dear. Where in the Hells are you taking me?”

“Follow and find out!”

Easing your mare into a gallop, the horses easily soar over the terrain on the outskirts of Baldur's Gate. The night is clear, and the stars shine brightly, their raw celestial energy dotting the sky like grains of sugar.

Despite Astarion’s plain distaste for horses, you can’t help but admire the way he looks in the saddle: confident, refined, and mouth-watering. The wind’s fingers flow through Astarion’s typically perfectly coiffed hair, mussing it up handsomely, and the silver moonlight plays between the rolling waves, casting an ethereal luminance across his porcelain skin.

Spotting the pathway, surrounded by a dense forest, you rein the horses into a walk through the narrow pass. The canopy of the towering trees filters out the beams of the moon’s waxen rays, so you cast Light. It makes eerie shadows dance around the thick trunks like restless spirits, their ghostly tendrils writhing around in the dark like tentacles, and you’re surprised to find yourself increasingly unnerved by the sight.

Your heart flutters around your chest like a scared bird in a cage as your eyes dart and track the serendipitous, playing shades. Your mind plays out memories you would rather forget, and you find your palms tingling as you seize the Weave reflexively.

Mind flayers and their slithering tentacles. Tadpoles squirming behind your eye.

The hungry shadows of Shar’s curse twisting their vines into you and sapping your life.

Good Gods. That abomination, Kar'niss.

Intellect devourers. The Netherbrain. The Emperor.

The feel of countless fangs of feral spawn, wild with hunger, piercing your skin in the Underdark.

Aldous. The sound of fabric ripping when he wrenched at your robe.

Prison. The crack and pop of breaking ribs.

“Hey.” You jump when Astarion’s hand touches your forearm. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” you quickly brush away the wetness strung upon your lashes.

“Pass me the reins of your horse.” Astarion instructs.

You do so mindlessly, staring into the penumbra obscuring the land between sagging boughs, as you continue to spiral through a tornado of every terrible thing that’s happened to you.

Astarion halts both of your horses, bringing his as close to yours as he can in the limited space. He ties the reins to his saddle and scoots himself back. “Come on, love.” Astarion leans over and folds an arm around your waist. “Slide over here.”

Wrapping your arm around his neck, you carefully ease over to Astarion’s steed with your back pressed tightly to his chest. He keeps an arm fixed around your trembling body.

“I am here, sweetheart.” Astarion murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours. “You can talk or not, but I am here.”

Astarion continues along the trail, humming a soothing tune that you don’t recognize. Every time the horse's hoofs snap a twig or thud off a rock, you cannot help but flinch. It’s not like you to be spooked so easily. You’re not fearless, but Gods, you’re far from this coward currently swallowing the urge to weep in Astarion’s arms at every unexpected sound.

You squeeze your eyes closed so the darkness stops staring back at you. Screaming inside your head, you try to quell the onslaught of thoughts, but it’s hard to forget your past when it’s written into the scars on your psyche. Some wounds never seem to heal and bleed again at the slightest provocation.

You want it to stop.

You want to drink until you can’t remember your name.

You want to beg Astarion to touch you, drain you, or both until you're numb.

You do not care how, as long as it fucking stops.

“Kamena…” Astarion trails off, and your eyes spring open, broken from your descent into madness. His eyes widen with recognition, and he gasps, “Hells. Are we where I think we are?”

“We are home."

Even with the dust covers removed from the furniture that remains and the fire spitting and popping in the brick fireplace, your cottage looks sparse and empty, devoid of all the belongings that made it look like home. The fine threads of dusty cobwebs hang in all of the corners. It makes you smile, warming your heart, when it’s the first thing Astarion attends to, listening attentively, his expression frozen in concentration.

“Well?”

“Oh, darling,” he feigns solemnity, looking gravely serious. “There are spiders everywhere. Millions of them, hiding in every nook and cranny, just waiting for you to fall into your trance so they can crawl all over you.”

Astarion takes quick, silent steps, grabbing you by the waist and crawling his fingers gently up your arm, laughing boyishly at the way you cringe, shudder, and try to twist away.

“Astarion!” You squeak, swatting him in the chest playfully while he giggles at you. “This is no joking matter! You know I will burn this place to the ground around me.”

“Perhaps,” he smirks, jutting his hip out confidently, “but you won’t burn it down around me, especially not with the sun out.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you smirk, letting liquid-like flames swirl around the two of you, and letting them ebb out. “I just might if you don’t tell me the truth!”

“Go ahead,” he challenges, pretending to yawn and lying down on the bed with his hands behind his head. He smirks boldly. “You’ve dropped a building on me before. How much worse can it be?”

“Are you going to hold that against me for the rest of our lives?” You groan, climbing onto the bed. Astarion pats his lap with an enticing grin, and you straddle him. “You were very enthusiastic in your approval to yank the weapon out of the device, you know.”

“I wanted to see what would happen. What can I say?” Astarion laughs, sitting upright, ghosting his lips over yours. “You should have known better than to listen to me of all people.”

“You’re the thief! I figured you already had it all planned out, Rogue.”

“Interesting that you thought I was a details person when I much preferred to sow blood and chaos wherever we went.” Astarion taps your nose with each word he tuts at you. “Not very astute of you, Sorceress.”

“Gods above,” you snort, galled, and stick your nose in the air. “We just got home, and I already want to break up with you.”

“And here I was thinking we were just very special friends.” Astarion muses flippantly, tilting his head and looking askance. “What do you think Tiefling blood tastes like? Brimstone? Smoke? Char?”

You spring up, staring at him with an icy scowl, your lips pressed together firmly. Astarion’s brows raise and curve, wrinkling his forehead in puzzlement as he scrutinizes you. It makes you want to hide, and you fold your arms around yourself to strangle the diffidence making bile rise into your throat.

“Maybe you should ask her for a nibble if you’re so goddamn curious, friend.”

Astarion’s mouth drops open at the choler braided into your voice. “What in the bloody Hells is going on with you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you swallow thickly.

“The Hells you don’t.” Astarion snaps. “If it’s alright with you, I would like to skip this part of the argument where you try to convince me nothing is wrong. I am not a fool.”

The bilious bubble bursts, and you shout, “Then stop acting like one! You allowed Hecat to pester you all about your vampirism like it was an ordinary thing for someone to do! You hid it from me when we met, but you seemed more than happy to humour her, even while she gawked at you like she was lost at sea and you were driftwood to cling to!

“Good fucking Gods. Grow up!” Astarion booms with bared fangs, making his expression severe, bordering on frightening . It’s not often you’ve seen him so angry, especially with you. “You have always had a jealous streak. I find it quite endearing most of the time, but this magnitude is new even for you, and it’s decidedly not cute.”

He’s right, and you know it, but that fact does nothing to assuage the indignation. Your eyes jump around the cottage. There are so many happy memories that now have a vinegary tartness after being pickled by heartbreak.

The bed you laid on for days with that damn letter weaved between your fingers.

The window you sat in front of at night, drunk and dazed, hoping beyond hope that he would appear between the trees.

His favourite lounge, where you spent days curled up crying until your eyes were sore.

And so many more.

You thought coming back here was a good idea. It was the last place you remembered feeling truly happy and whole. Now all you see are the reminders of a life that could have been if only you had been wise enough to catch the signs of him withdrawing.

I wish we could go back to a time before it was too late.

Now it's you who needs to withdraw, because this is all you're good at now. Isn’t it? Running away from your problems and fears.

You are afraid to fall because if your fire is extinguished, you’re unsure if it will ever burn again. Your soul is too indurated with heartbreak. You will have nothing left but to stand in the ashes of who you used to be.

“Get away from the door,” you say despondently.

Astarion steps toward you to stop you, but you open the door and stand in the streaming sunlight so he can’t touch you.

“Where are you going?” Astarion sighs, easing his tense posture and shying away from the sun.

It makes your heart clench in your chest to see him so afraid of something he used to love, and now you’re using it as a weapon to shield yourself from him.

What is wrong with me? 

“To go grow up.” You spit harshly and disappear out the door, slamming it behind you.

Astarion listens as the sound of pounding hoofs races off until he can’t hear it any longer. He combs his fingers through his hair, scraping his fingernails over his scalp, while looking around the cottage that he used to call home.

Ever since he left, he’s dreamed of returning, where his memories are full of her smiling face, joyful, feathery laughter, peace, and safety, but now that he’s here, it feels like a bleak reminder of the life they could have had.

It’s empty, quiet, and dark without her. Kamena has always been the fire that banishes the shadows. Her smile warmed these cold walls, and her laugh threaded the air with sweet life.

Fuck.

He sits on the floor with his back pressed up against the bed and takes a deep breath. His eyes wander and focus on a crack in the ceiling, and he lets his mind drift back to the conversation. Before he left, usually, their quarrels ended with a swift recovery and reconciliation. They hardly ever turned into escalated disagreements. 

And she never ran.

Astarion's head drops into his hands, and he winces at the recollection of his own gruff voice telling her to grow up. He admonished her when he should have been trying to figure out why her reaction to the Tiefling’s brainless queries was so uncharacteristically intense.

His mind races as he delves into the depths of his memories, seeking clues to explain Kamena’s fragile security.

Well, at least she was generous with her blood tonight, Astarion thinks, as his fingers part and find her folds slick with arousal. If nothing else, he got a meal out of it.

Astarion’s eyes stay open, even while their tongues dance, staring blankly at the pattern of the tree bark in the distance. He does not need to focus much as his finessed fingers fall into a perfectly choreographed rhythm engineered by how her thighs shake, her breath hitches in her throat, and the sighs that slip from her lips.

He will have her coming undone for him in no time, and then he will take her again, perhaps from behind.

It’s always easier when they don’t look at him.

Gods. The only being that has treated him like a person in the last two centuries, and he’s still playing the rake, but this is all he knows - all he’s good for. He needs her help and protection, so he might as well make himself useful.

His mind is clapped back into reality rapidly when he realizes her moaning has stopped, her body is still, and their lips are no longer locked in a kiss.   

Shit.

He glances down, and she’s staring at him thoughtfully. “Is everything okay, Astarion?”   

He reels to think of some beguiling response. He weaves together words like spider silk in the deep, purring timbre he knows will current her away in the river of his verse. “Apologies. I was just getting lost in the bewitching melody of your moans.”

It’s half-assed, admittedly, but he thinks that should do it.   

It does not, in fact, do it, and he does not like that she doesn’t look entirely convinced. She stares at him as if she’s undressing his mind, unbuttoning his thoughts with those eyes that could swallow whole universes.   

It’s... unnerving.

He doubles down on his ministrations to distract her. Moving forward to the next act in this play, and eases two fingers into her, pressing upward to find that pad of sensitive flesh that should send her spiralling into pleasure.   

This one is more observant than his usual fanfare and far more clever. He will have to be mindful.

Astarion barely registers when she tumbles into her orgasm, spasming around his fingers and crying out his name. He should say something. They usually like it when he says something.   

He leans down, kissing up the column of her neck, skin flushed under his lips. He whispers, letting his lips brush up against the shell of her ear. “Gods. You’re beautiful, darling.”   

Unoriginal perhaps, rehearsed to oblivion, but par for the course of this performance.

At least she is truly a vision with her doe-eyes, heavily lidded, sparkling as if flecked with moonstones. Her long hair waving upon the ground, and the pale light glints off her prismatic scales cherubically.

He lets himself admire the arc of her waist and the curve of her hips. It helps when they are attractive. He’s seen many seductive bodies, but hers is different somehow. It’s enchanting... inviting even.

He settles between her thighs, hands splayed on the loamy ground, to brace himself, and he eases his cock into her aching core. Gods. She’s tight, and it makes him sigh out a hissing breath.   

He pumps into her at an easy pace until her body adjusts, and then autopilot takes over as he descends into the recesses of his mind, floating out of his body and away from what he’s partaking in.

It’s not that it doesn’t feel good. In fact, he’s rather confounded to find that, despite his mind trying to separate itself from his body, he keeps being dragged back, overwhelmed by a sudden surge of pleasure.

She feels... good. Hells below, really, truly, good.

This is... different. Her body flush against his, her tightness so wet, warm, and disconcertingly sublime.

“Astarion,” she breathes as her hand gently comes to his cheek, bringing him back into his body, and his eyes snap open to meet hers. “Show me what you want and what you like, not what you think I want.”

His hips stutter for a moment, processing the request. When’s the last time someone cared about what he wanted or liked? Hells. What does he like? He’s usually so focused on providing other people with their fantasies that he hasn’t bothered to consider what he likes in centuries.

"I... I don’t know,” he murmurs shakily. A revelation cracks into him — something he’s never done, never been allowed to do, never had the agency to do. Another first . “I want to taste your blood as you come for me.”

She smiles, nodding her assent, and Astarion’s hips snap erratically, changing the depth and pace of his thrusts until he finds one that has him squeezing his eyes shut, enraptured in his own bliss.

She whimpers his name as she nears her climax, lolling her head to the side to give him access. His name in her breathy whimpers sends shivers down his spine.

He bites, pulling her blood into his mouth and letting it sit on his tongue. He can taste the spice and fire of her desire, a beautiful harmony that makes him groan. His hand grabs her hip so he can plunge into her deeper and fuck her harder into their combined euphoria.

She crests, fingers curling into his hair as she clenches around him. Her blood floods with a new flavour in her nirvana. It tastes like dawn, hope, and... home? 

His orgasm takes him by surprise when it charges through him. His cock twitches as he spills himself into her with a grunt against her throat.

When he lays down beside her, she makes no move to touch him or get closer, and he’s beside himself to find he’s disappointed with the lack of intimacy. When he looks over, she’s once again observing him, gentle yet contemplative. 

“What is it, my sweet? Already looking for round two?” 

“You weren’t all there tonight.” She whispers, looking up at the stars.

Fuck.

He’s a master performer, able to improvise and fabricate on a dime, but he cannot think of a single cunning explanation to reply with.

Why, oh why, couldn’t it have been the gullible Tiefling or braggart Wizard leading this group of godsdamned misfits? 

He catches the hoofbeats long before they approach the cottage. When Kamena opens the door, sunlight no longer spills through the gap. She doesn’t speak as she curls herself around him, her head on his chest, taking a deep breath. He wraps her in a tight embrace, kissing her hair and pressing his cheek against her forehead.

Astarion closes his eyes and revels in her warmth before he speaks. “I spoke out of turn today.”

“Ugh. Stop being so nice to me.”

Kamena shucks off her robe, disappearing into the bedroom, and returns attired in one of his shirts. The red tunic is too large for her, with the hem rippling about her thighs, putting her long, shapely legs on display for him.

She smirks at him as he feigns irritation, crossing his arms and jutting his chin up. “Did you not bring your own bloody clothing?”

She descends into a chair by the fire, curling her legs up under her, and whispers. “It makes me feel close to you. When you left, it was one of the few things I had left.”

Her answer takes him aback. He had expected a clever retort, not such raw vulnerability.

“You still doubt my commitment to you,” he states, rummaging his fingers through his hair. “I can hardly blame you. Our relationship didn’t exactly start or end candidly. If I would have opened up instead of running out on you-”

“Should have, could have, would have,” she shrugs. “You had your reasons, and I'm not much better, it seems. Gods. I’m a mess.”

“Perhaps, but you’re my mess.” He purrs, crouching and hooking her chin with his finger to guide her gaze to his. “I want you, Kamena. I always wanted you, even when I didn’t know what I wanted.”

“Hecat.” The shakiness in her voice makes every one of his bones ache as her eyes begin to well up. “I should not have overreacted. I just… You don’t understand how hard it is to watch everyone covet you like you’re a prize to be won. I hate it. It makes my blood run hot, and sometimes I just don’t recognize it for what it is - insecurity.”

“The Tiefling is just another fool in a long line of idiots who sees how positively beautiful I am, but their interest goes no deeper than flesh. You are the only one who ever saw me and took the time to get to know me, even when I was being an insufferable prick.”

Kamena hiccups out a laugh. “I just really want to burn her eyes out of her skull.”

“HA!” He giggles, kissing her forehead. “That’s my girl. Not to worry. Dear Shadowheart is right. If she touches me, I will cut her hand off swiftly.”

“You heard that, did you?”

“Of course.” He smirks, leading her to the bed and giving her a playful shove. “I hear everything that goes on in that tower.”

“Am I more attractive than the Tiefling?” She pouts adorably with a sassy undertone.

“Digging for shallow praise, are we?” Astarion chuckles. “Alright. I’ll bite. Let me see. If an angel fell for every time I thought of you, the heavens would be empty.”

She giggles – sparkly and beautiful and bright. Home suddenly doesn’t feel so desolate.

“You can do better than that,” she teases.

“Hmm... What about this one? Even in the astral plane, where gravity is fickle, I would still fall for you.”

“Oh, Gods above.” She laughs until her eyes shine. Astarion leans down and kisses the single teardrop creeping out of the corner of her eye. “One more.”

“Another?” He looks deeply into her eyes, which gleam brightly as if laced with flame, shining with every beautiful shade of her being. He grins at the memory, and this time, when he says it, it does not sadden him. “I love you, Solicallor.”

“I love you, too, Aerasumé,” she says, running her fingers through his hair and tousling it playfully. “You’re cute.”

“Bad girl,” he purrs. “Retribution is required.”

She warns, “Don’t do it!”

“Don’t do what, love? This?”  

Astarion tickles her until she is fighting for breath between her laughter, squirming under him as he pins her with his body, and pleading for forgiveness.

“That was rude!” She sucks in heavy breaths. “You better watch your back, Astarion. I’m going to strike when you least expect it.”

“I await the day you’re spritely enough to catch me.”

Astarion moulds his lips to hers, basking in the warmth that radiates across his cool skin. He nips her lower lip impatiently when she doesn’t part her lips for him. If miracles have a taste, he’s positive they would taste like her. He places chaste kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

She looks at him lustily, batting her long lashes. “What are you doing?”

“Well,” he rucks up her shirt, placing a kiss on her stomach. He grins. “We find ourselves alone, truly and completely alone, in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, darling, do I have to spell it out for you? I want to make you scream while I make love to you in our home, in our bed.”

She stares at him with her wide doe-eyes shining brightly as if scattered with dewdrops. “Be mine, Astarion.” She whispers.

“I have never not been yours, Kamena.” Astarion murmurs between kisses, inhaling the scent of her.

She pushes his shirt over his shoulders, and he throws it off hastily. Astarion cups her breast, thumb rubbing over the hard peak of her nipple. She moans, and every breathy little noise and pound of her hectic heartbeat is a symphony to his ears. He rolls her sensitive peaks between his thumb and forefinger. She sucks in a sharp, wavering breath, and his cock twitches, rock hard and eager against his trousers.

Her hands run reverently up his sides to his chest, letting the pads of her fingers ghost over his nipples, making him shudder with a groan. Every place her lips meet his skin radiates vitality, as if she’s breathing life into him with every kiss. The fabric of his breeches strained against him is far too restricting, and he kicks them off, freeing his erection.

Astarion slips his hand between her legs, sliding his fingers into her wetness, swirling them around the border of her achy pearl, and she arches into him. Her tepid breath tickles his skin as she muffles her cries against his shoulder.

“Gods,” he pants, and is surprised to find himself breathing so heavily. “Don’t hold back. It’s just us. Scream for me, my love.”

Her eyelashes flutter as she cries out, and he cannot help it; he fucking moans with her. Every sound emanating from her makes his yearning flood him in an intense upsurge, making his cock twitch and beg for attention. He’s not sure he’s ever been this aroused, this openly intimate, with no hint of the shadows that have constrained him before. 

He desires her like a magnet clings to its polar opposite, impossible to sever and hopelessly drawn to the very core of its existence.

Astarion eases two fingers into her, pumping them slowly deeper and deeper while he sucks her tender rosebuds, wresting whimpers and moans from her full lips. Once her body has adjusted, he hooks his fingers just so, finding and stroking her most sensitive spot. He adjusts the pressure until he finds one that makes her breath catch and has her moaning, unbridled and wanton.

“O—oh,” she whimpers; her eyes squeezed closed, tugging at the bedsheets. “Hells. A-f-fuck—Astarion.”

Gods. He loves that sound; his name a prayer upon her lips.

He could undo her like this, but Hells, he craves the taste of her lust. Astarion licks and kisses her stomach as he continues to thrust his fingers into her sensually. She blinks slowly and watches him crawl down her body with half-lidded eyes and parted lips. 

Astarion snaps his eyes to hers, kissing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and then pushes her leg, spreading her for him. He pants shakily, opening his mouth and pressing his tongue against her clit. 

He groans gutturally under his own rampant desire as he laps up her sweet arousal. She squirms and whimpers with every lick of his tongue, every pump of his fingers, and he can’t help but wrap his hand around his throbbing cock and stroke himself.

Her fingers twist into his hair, and he closes his eyes as he savours her. Astarion takes his time working her to her climax until her thighs start to tremble, her moans come between uneven breaths, and a flush blooms over her skin.

Astarion’s fingers continue to rub that perfect spot inside her. His lips close around her swollen clit. He sucks gently, flits, and flutters his tongue in the way he knows will send her cascading into ecstasy.

Her body convulses, thighs trembling on either side of him as she succumbs to her climax. He indulges himself, watching her come, watching her lose herself in blinding sensations.

He’s not sure he’s ever seen anything so godsdamned spellbinding and arousing.

But he’s not quite done with her yet. He angles his fingers, pulses his tongue, and watches her ride out every wave of pleasure, drinking in her nonsensical whimpers. Only when she’s gasping for breath and shaking does he let up. 

“You, my love, are a delectable treat.” He purrs, crawling up her flushed body until he’s holding himself above her. “In so many more ways than one.”

“Show me,” she stammers between irregular breaths.

He kisses her intimately, his tongue still coated in her rapture, exploring her mouth. Kamena carves her curves into every contour of his body, pressing her heated skin to his.

This is the way he remembers her - unapologetic, unafraid, and passionate.

Astarion grasps her hips, pulling her toward him, and runs his aching cock through her seam. “S-shit,” he stutters at the exquisite sensation.

He watches raptly as his cock sinks into her, swallowed in tight warmth, his girth stretching her. They fit together too perfectly to be anything other than made for each other.

He thrusts slowly, deeply, and intensely. Every moan he liberates from her is echoed with his own. They are both a mess of desiring hands, deep, intimate kisses, and promises of devotion and love.

She folds her arms around his neck, pulling herself flush to him, her breasts heaving against his chest. He leans back, sitting on his ankles with her in his lap and her legs around his waist. He plunges deeper, grinding into her, and she clenches, squeezing him as his length massages her ridges.

She is like supping on dawn’s fire, the way she lights up just for him is the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

Bliss escalates and flows, surging between them, and she melts into him. He laces his fingers into her hair, and her body tenses at the threshold of her release, every muscle quivering against him. She whines into his mouth, and he increases the pace of his thrusts, bringing her higher, higher, higher.

His own breathing is ragged and uneven; his body taut and veiled with sweat. Every thrust draws a panting whimper from his lips. He kisses her deeply, devout and passionate, as he throws her over the edge.

Her sex is still spasming around him as he bucks his hips into her, his forehead pressed to hers and her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. Every erratic pump of his hips is met with another shockwave running through her, stimulating his sensitive head, and he cries out loudly as his own release takes hold, a swelling wave of fire blazing through him with an intensity he’s never known.

He grinds his hips while his cock pulses deeply inside her, filling her completely.

Time seems to stop as they sit together in this everlasting serenity, holding each other closely, bodies trembling in the aftermath. 

Marry me.

The thought comes unbidden to him. In his confusion, he does not dare speak it aloud. An idea spurred on by a moment of passion, surely. 

Once her heart rate has returned to a steady pace, he nuzzles her, nose to nose, and she giggles, light, airy, and happy. He would give anything to keep her here in this moment where she is weightless and worry-free.

He kisses her once more, gentle and cherishing. She looks up at him, and he gazes back at her. There is no need for words. Their eyes have a secret language that only their souls are fluent in.

Good Gods. Marry me. 

[makoodles]

okay but imagine marine biologist!reader making an off handed comment about missing her avatar as she and the children return from free-diving after Ronal asks if she’s alright because she’s clearly a little out of breath.

and suddenly she’s being interrogated by the entire family. the reader awkwardly reveals she had an avatar of her own because it had been more practical to use as she studied the oceans except it had been lost to her when the ship had sealed off before sinking during the first war. but there was a good chance it was still intact in it’s cryopod as the ship had a backup batteries that could last a century even underwater.

there’s a look of devastation on Ronal’s face as she realizes what could have been if the avatar was present. and Tonowari seems to be thinking the same thing as he angrily stomps out of the marui. because the two had been very obviously in love with the sky demon but would not pursue it due to their obvious differences. the next morning Jake Sully finds himself in the middle of the ocean with a very desperate Tonowari with the hopes they can recover the avatar for Ronal to preform the consciousness change thing.

and Jake is so fucking confused but down with it after Tonowari reassured him that the reader isn’t sick or anything. that he just thinks she’s deserving of this after everything she’s done to help the clan after turning on her people all those years ago. and that it wouldn’t hurt to get her into a safer body with the coming war.

and Ronal would be so fucking cocky when the reader asks if she can really preform the ritual.

but plot twist: after the reader is put into her avatar, the Sully children are unbelievably supportive as they take it up upon themselves to show her the Metkayina ways, causing some mixed feelings from Neytiri who had never really given the reader much of a second thought despite her presence among the family when she was human. though now? now she’s actually seeing the reader. and it makes Ronal so fucking jealous because Neytiri keeps pulling the “now that you’ve gotten your avatar, you’ve forgotten us?” card to emotionally guilt the reader whenever she feels that she’s spending too much time with the Metkayina family.

to add onto my marine biologist ask - maybe it’s the RDA that bring back the reader’s avatar? just Quaritch using it to blackmail the reader and the na’vi are so fucking confused and a little angry the the reader keeps going to extreme lengths to protect her avatar even if it means nearly killing herself in the process. it just doesn’t make sense to them because they’ve already accepted her as a human.

one thing leads to another and she takes that bullet for Neteyam during the skirmish but the kids say fuck it. suddenly Lo’ak and Ao’nung are dragging the avatar out of the water and desperately asking Ronal and Neytiri to preform the consciousness change ritual. with Kiri’s help it works.

the reader wakes up on the rock and the kids are sobbing as they cling to her and there’s a moment of peace as even Jake let’s out a breathless laugh as he has to hold back tears but the peace is quickly broken when Ronal begins to lecture her for being a fucking idiot. asking if she happy that she got what she wanted after literally killing herself in the process of it. but she stops mid-sentence when her eyes flicker to the slight swelling in the avatar’s stomach.

even Tonowari is confused as Ronal finds herself at a loss of words. a long moment passes before she simply reaches out and places as hand on the reader’s belly in a sudden understanding.

and that’s when it clicks for them.

the RDA had not been using the reader’s avatar against her but rather the baby it harboured all those years in cryosleep. the baby she had mourned every day for fifteen years. there are a dozen questions from the children about the baby and it’s father but there’s a desperate and scared look from Jake as he’s reminded of Grace and her hard pregnancy.

for the first time Neytiri actually sees the reader for something more then just a sky demon. and she gets super fucking protective after they’ve returned to the village. reasoning that the reader pretty much died for her son so that kind of makes them family and as family it’s only fair she and Jake take care of the reader and her baby. but Ronal argues that the baby might have demon blood but they also have the blood of a water na’vi so they should be taken care of by water na’vi. the reader realizes the feud that’s growing so she thinks she can end it by simply moving into her own marui but it only actually makes it worse cause both families can pretty much walk in at anytime.

but it would be so cute if she named the baby after Lo’ak because the boy harbours so much guilt over her getting shot. believing she wouldn’t have been out there in the first place if it wasn’t for him. but she needs him to understand she isn’t angry at him about it.

broooooo!! i would read a full novel of this !! the kids being super protective over reader is so fucking cute too, especially when the parents are crushing so hard ksrjggh i love it

[hellishere7980]

Whatever It Takes (CH-4)

Dear mother, I know you're mad at me. I was supposed to stay with Damien. Stay ‘safe’ as you put it But there is still a weak point I need to cover. You said our aim was to get Damian to safety. Mother, you and I both know he is not completely safe. Safer? Yes. But not completely safe. You know, I promised to myself that I would do whatever it took to keep you both safe. This is my way of doing it. Go ahead and say that ‘You don't need to do it’. But I know I need to do it. So, forgive me, mother, for disobeying your direct orders. I was following the order you gave me a long time ago.

I love you, Mother.

You always said that repeating something again and again reduces the value of your words. These three words I will never tire of speaking to you. Because you gave birth to me. You kept me safe as much as you could. You snuck in and stayed with me when I was sick. You are my mother.

You always said, “Mariam, You are my daughter. Be brave.”

Now I'm saying, “You are my mother, Trust me.”

Trust me to know what I'm doing.

Your daughter, Mariam.

Talia fell down crying after reading the letter. The woman who never shed a tear even after being stabbed and shot.

Bruce stepped forward and supported her to a chair.

— — — — — — — —

“M-Mother?” Damian asked as Talia was about to get back into the car.

“Yes, Damian.” Talia said, smiling at him.

“Don't worry.” Bruce said, standing beside Damien. “We'll keep a lookout for Mariam.”

Talia just nodded and was about to get into the car when a notification chimed up in the bat computer.

Facial match: Ra’s Al-Ghul Location: Gotham Harbour, Dock #7

They all looked at each other as they rushed to put on their costumes. Dick dragged Damian with him to at least make him wear a basic black Kalver uniform. Soon enough, they all took off. Dick and Tim on the nightcycle and the R-Cycle. Bruce, Damian and Talia in the Batmobile with Alfred manning the comms. After breaking some traffic laws, they pulled up at the Gotham Harbour in under 20 minutes. They all stepped out and saw Ra’s standing on a cliff while his personal helicopter, ready for takeoff, waited below in the sandy area.

“Well.” Ra’s said, turning towards them. “I expected that pusillanimous girl of yours to do this.” He said to Talia. “But you? You failed to achieve the low expectations I set for you. This has gone on for long enough. If you so desperately wish to get out of the league, then fine. The league has no place for cowards like you and your daughter who can not even respect their blood. Come along, Damian.”

“NO!” Talia And Damian said together.

Ra’s opened his mouth to say something else but just then a stone was catapulted from the nearby higher cliff which hit Ra’s, the momentum throwing him off the cliff and onto the spinning blades of his helicopter.

Everyone else remaining on the cliff were stunned and watched in utter shock as they heard the sound of flesh being sliced and falling into the slightly acidic waters of Gotham Harbour. As the men in the helicopter jumped out, arrows from the nearby cliff, although from a different area, claimed their lives as they fell down in the pools of their own blood.

All of them stood motionless. Then Batman said, “Whoever did this, the intention was not to harm us yet. Proceed with caution. Robin, Damian, check if there are any survivors. Talia, Nightwing and I are going to check the cliff from where the attack came.”

After spending hours, they couldn't find anything. Just a note that said.

I Bow to thee, Talia Al-Ghul. The Demon Head of the League of Assassins.

“What does this mean, mother?” Damian asked when they showed the note to everyone back in the Batcave.

“This is an ancient ritual.” Talia said looking at the note with something akin to silent horror. “Whenever a Demon had died and the heir took the place as the next Demon Head, all the people of the League of Assassins were supposed to pledge their loyalty to the new Demon Head. They used to bow as a symbol for accepting their superior.”

“But didn't Ra’s say that you were not to inherit the League?” Bruce asked. “Because you are a woman.”

“I know that.” Talia said.

“OK, OK, you are the new Head.” Dick said. “Got it. What are we gonna do now? I think that Mariam might have done it—”

Talia said, “She wouldn’t kill her own Grandfather.” She took a deep breath in.

“I still think the League isn't a fit place to bring up Damian. I still wish you would keep him here.” Talia said, looking at Bruce.

“That would be my absolute pleasure.” Bruce said. “But I want to know one thing.” He continued turning towards Damian, kneeling down to his level, “You wanna stay here, Damian?”

Damian looked deep into Bruce's eyes. “Yes, Father.”

“Well, that's settled!” Tim said. “He gets to stay with us. And you,” He said to Talia. “Get to head the league. Fun.”

Talia gave a light chuckle. “I will leave now.”

And so the days went by. Damian adjusted in his new life as the new Robin after Tim gave him the mantle. Talia went on to Head the league, changing the name from League of Assassins to League of Shadows. When Damian called her about it, she replied, “A new change of aim, means a new change of name.”

Talia even revealed that Jason was back in the living world. They tried to fix that burnt bridge. But Jason was still not completely open to coming back, but, baby steps. Everything was going swimmingly until one day, specifically on Damian's birthday, someone rang the doorbell.

[dkniade]

It’s wild when an account with a bigger following than I reblogs one of my posts with a comment because now I’m watching the replies/reblogs/tags on my “Childe can turn into water and fly” post like it’s some play unfolding, like a bunch of characters get into a scene and start discussing the validity of some legend.

-

“I always assumed that's what he does when overdosed on whatever divine authority of permission provide.”

“#as in he can't do that normally #only when hooked to a battery #it would be insane otherwise #a guy who can just turn into water droplets and fly away #although maybe he is just *that* insanely powerful and downplays it”

-

“I thought it was probably just a regular power of his, but figured Childe probably just doesn't use it much since it's an ability that seems mostly exist to help with retreating.”

-

“It would help sooo much with badass entrances too.”

“#and messing with people #imagine taunting someone just flying around them as a ball of water”

-

“#its what he does when he's bored #just screweing with people #many treasure hoarders in liyue thought there was a water demon that was haunting them #its was him. childe #you thought it was an evil demon but it was me! childe!”

-

“#childe's mona phase”

-

Maybe this could be a legend… Some Liyue Treasure Hoarders spreading a legend of a water demon that haunts the sunny plains of Liyue, and it eventually gets so twisted that he’s thought to be an Adeptus until—

“No wait, I’ve heard that the demon appeared at the harbour around the same time that Osial was released a few years ago.”

“……..He must be Osial’s child.”

“Apparently a ginger appeared after a sighting and he seemed human. But Adepti can often can take on a human form, right?”

“…”

“Maybe an Adeptus and Osial had-”

[emanation-aura]

can i ask for your rant on Genshin regional specialities? your meta on the bosses was very entertaining, and i largely agree–although i do have to argue that the ruin serpent is worse than the wenut in the spiral abyss

(Meta on boss drop bloat in Genshin)

Ok, well don't say I didn't warn you, anon.

Regional specialties suffer from the same problem as the boss drops as we always need to have at least one or two per expansion, and that as the expansions have gone on, the drops have become more and more mismatched. I mean, I have problems with some of the Liyue characters' regional specialty assignments too, but I'll deal with them too.

I'm gonna address them region by region.

(Highlights: Chongyun why do you use Cor Lapis, Dendrobium Chiori but she doesn't seem to be killing people?!, Thoma you poor soul on Fluorescent Fungus, Navia using Primordial Water, the thing she nearly died to—)

Liyue

Here is the current canonical list of who ascends with what in Liyue. Besides the obvious paradigm of why Gaming, a Pyro Vision user, is ascending with the Starconch (which has, for literal years, been a Childe and then Childe + Yelan exclusive, making it pretty much "Hydro Liyue ascender" for everyone released after 1.0, plus it's also literally a conch from the ocean, the theming—), I actually have more issues.

Chongyun using Cor Lapis, for instance. Like, let's look at the other two characters that use Cor Lapis: ah right, Zhongli aka Rex Lapis the (former) Geo Archon, whom this ore is named after, and Keqing, relentless driver of an ideal of change for Liyue Harbour, who is so dedicated to the idea of Liyue she is willing to blaspheme its Archon to do so. Both of these people, in very different ways, hold a great love for Liyue and wish to see it prosper.

Chongyun doesn't have this. It's not like he's disloyal or hates Liyue Harbour, but it's not a focal point of his character. He's more along the lines of Xiangling and Xinqiu as passively treating and treasuring Liyue as his home, but he doesn't carry the strong convictions that the Cor Lapis (lit. "Stone Heart") implies, at least not in the direction of Liyue Harbour. His character is all about his yang spirit and exorcism,

Honestly, I know it's not a regional specialty, but Chongyun would theoretically make the most sense ascending on Mist Flowers. Beyond that, my opinion is that he suits Qingxin more— like, come on, Qingxin (清心) means "pure heart" (or "mind cleansing"), and what's Chongyun's most famous motto? That's right, "Heart be pure, evil be erased. Mind be purged..." (and, via Shenhe, "world be saved").

Note: Ok, now the Chinese version of the motto is obviously very different, which might affect my argument. Combining what Shenhe completes for us, the motto is:

驅邪縛魅，內外澄清，回向正道，保身護命。 To expel evil and restrain demons, inside and outside pure and clear, turn back towards the upright Way, protect life-destiny and guard the body.

Translation courtesy of this site, since these mottos are based on the Eight Great Incantations in Daoism, specifically the "purifying the heart incantation" and "pacifying the earth incantation".

But I'd argue this makes the Qingxin argument even stronger. First of all, it straight up uses 澄清 chengqing "pure and clear", the same as the 清 qing in Qingxin. Second of all, the Daoist chant this comes from is the 淨心 jingxin "purifying the heart" mantra, like come on, I don't have the energy to explain even further how this suits him. Plus, the Qingxin description says "It eschews the warmth and moisture of the plains to gaze out afar from the solitary mountaintops." Apart from applying to the three (pseudo-) Adepti very well, doesn't this perfectly describe Chongyun's character struggle? Having to deny the warmth of life and keep himself cold (physically, mostly) and under control so that his yang spirit doesn't lose control??

Like, I know Qingxin is somehow the 'adepti' ascension material (excluding Xianyun and Yanfei, because Qingxin only applies to adepti/adjacent who don't really fit into the mortal world), but Chongyun fits this too well, and he can join his aunt Shenhe in using it too.

Other sins of Liyue ascension materials: ok, this one is less egregious, but I feel like Xinyan deserves Jueyun Chilli and not Violetgrass. Like, I get that the description of Violetgrass says it has a "strong vitality" and that its "downward-blooming flower keeps its fragrance from dissipating", both traits that reflect Xinyan's rock'n'roll persistence and her character, but Violetgrass is also a medicinal herb both factually and given that Baizhu and Qiqi both use it, so it's sending out mixed messages here. If anything, Xinyan suits Jueyun Chilli as well for being the "kick up the ass" for Liyue traditionalists (paraphrased but the sentiment is there). I'm not as sure on this one, since Jueyun Chilli also doubles as "Madam Ping's disciples' ascension material" with Yaoyao and Xiangling, but it doesn't even make sense for Yaoyao, swap her with Xinyan since Yaoyao is a healer and takes care of people and would make more sense ascending on a medicinal herb.

There's also, glaringly, the issue with Clearwater Jade and Xianyun being its only user. This has an easy hotfix: remember my problem with Gaming? Let him use Clearwater Jade instead for Chenyu connections, therefore fixing the 'there's literally only one user of this ascension material' problem. I know it's Clearwater Jade and Gaming is Pyro, but at least he has a lore connection to Chenyu Vale.

Speaking of the 'only one user of this ascension material' problem...

Inazuma

Q: Thoma, why the fuck are you the only one to use Fluorescent Fungus??

A: Because Thoma released in 2.2, just like Tsurumi Island.

There are two ways we can go about hits. First, we scrap the Fluorescent Fungus entirely and move Thoma to a different ascension material. The question is, which one? None of the others really have an MO that fits Thoma...

at least, in Inazuma.

Remember, Thoma is half-Mondstadtian. And if we wanna bend the rules a bit (or, in fact, actually give this half of his heritage some weight rather than just ignore it), why don't we give him a Mondstadt regional specialty?

Let's take Fluorescent Fungus' description. "A mushroom that glows like a night-light... [and] can help to light the way." Great, so we're dealing with only one theme here: bioluminescence and 'lighting the way in the dark'. Thoma has a Pyro Vision and works as a retainer for the Kamisato Clan, this isn't too strange. Hey, wait, isn't there also a bioluminescent plant from Mondstadt?

Small Lamp Grass: "A wild grass that emits light at night. Used in cooking to enhance other flavors. Just as the subtle fragrance of wild flowers will not distract a focused person, Small Lamp Grass' delicate glow will not attract their attention either, even at night."

Thoma could use Small Lamp Grass as a substitute, which three other characters already use, therefore reducing the amount of regional specialty bloat and making farming him not contingent on completing the Tsurumi Island questline, (which can be a good or a bad thing depending on what type of player you are), but as his """intended""" playstyle was a Hu Tao shielder at his release, the Lamp Grass choice also makes strategic sense since a Hu Tao owner will have likely already gotten a lot of Lamp grass by being in Mondstadt already, versus having to explore all of Inazuma. Plus, the Lamp Grass has an even better theming boon: "used in cooking to enhance other flavors" (like as a retainer, Thoma enhances the Kamisato Clan by his dedicated service).

If you wanted to play up Thoma's nostalgia for his homeland, you could make him use Windwheel Asters, which cannot grow in places with no wind or plagued by strong storms, only where the wind is gentle and nourishing. Inazuma, literally surrounded by a strong storm due to the Sakoku Decree and ravaged by the storms of war (metaphorically), would not be able to grow the Windwheel Aster until after the events of the Inazuma AQ and Raiden SQ II (assuming, for the sake of it, that Windwheel Asters can theoretically grow outside Mondstadt), reflecting how Thoma is stuck in a 'windless land' antithetical to his very nature. Big sad. I wish this was touched on more often, but that's an Inazuma critique, not just regional specialty reorganisation. And believe me, if I got into the Inazuma problems (as I have done in the past) we would be here all week.

The other option is not to scrap the Fluorescent Fungus, which in that case, someone else should use it. The only obvious candidate are our two new Inazuma releases: Kirara and Chiori. Out of the two of them, I think Chiori doesn't deserve Dendrobium, because it's such a reference to the red spider lily and death that even Chiori, who has her 'dark side' (being a blunt communicator??) doesn't exactly fit its MO. I mean, Sara is a war general. Of course she gets Dendrobium the flower that grows where blood was spilled. If Kokomi were a more competent character she would get Dendrobium too— *gets shot*

but it's hard to make a case for Chiori using Fluorescent Fungus unless you lean really hard into it being the "Inazuma outcast ascender", i.e. Thoma, a non-(full)-Inazuman living in Inazuma (everyone treats him considers him a 'naturalised' foreigner despite being half-Inazuman because that's the inevitable consequence of not being the picture of conformity in a society like this, trust me, I know the feeling), and Chiori, an Inazuman not living in Inazuma. The bioluminescence angle could also reflect Chiori's aspirations to become a fashion industry leader, like "the light shining in the dark", something like that. Alternatively, Chiori could use Amakumo Fruit, which fits her MO far better: "as if showing its defiance, it will bear fruit while facing the peals of thunder from the sky." Chiori is determined and defiant of the odds to achieve her dream, a "bold spirit" (quote from the desc.) for someone who emigrated and is struggling to make her life out there.

Kirara doesn't suit Amakumo Fruit either, given what I've described of it. She's neither 'defiant' (in the way that the description implies) nor strongly Electro-tied, she's just an international cat courier. That's why Fluorescent Fungus could suit her more— like, the luminescent angle lighting the way (through the fog of Tsurumi Island), just like her traveling self. It's not a deeply strong connection, but it tracks better than Amakumo Fruit does.

(Moving Chiori and Kirara away from Dendrobium and Amakumo Fruit respectively means that we're only moving the 'one character one material' problem, but given how well those two suit Sara and Raiden respectively, I'm loath to move or delete one of them. The ideal balancing factor would be moving Kirara to Fluorescent Fungus and Chiori to Amakumo Fruit, leaving Dendrobium with a single but extremely fitting user, which is more than Thoma + Fungus can be.)

Also, Yae Miko not ascending on Sakura Blooms is a sin. Swap Miko and Ayato (like, Ganoderma lore is literally the souls of dead children, what better way to imply further darkness in Ayato raising child soldiers in the Shuumatsuban especially given this is a criminally overlooked aspect in his character). Hell, if this aspect was further emphasised in Sayu's character, we could move Sayu to Dendrobium too, move Aloy literally anywhere else don't you think the Subdetection Unit, Trishiraite, or any other ore/mechanical thing would suit her more, time of release be damned??, and scrap Crystal Marrow. But that's getting dangerously close to talking about an Inazuma rewrite again, so I'll leave it there.

Hey, wouldn't it be really fucked up if Kokomi used Crystal Marrow to ascend? HYV, you cowards—

Sumeru

(Warning! I am going to be factoring the ascension material of Sethos, who was recently drip-marketed for 4.7 and hails from Sumeru. This is minor leak territory, but if you don't wish to see it, skip the section double-labeled Sethos at start and end.)

Sumeru is an interesting case because a lot of the regional specialties do clearly fit well, but at the same time are organised weirdly. I won't get into Collei and Wanderer using Rukkhashava Mushrooms because those, while weird on the surface, there is an interesting explanation behind it (ft. Ashikai's video on Eucharist lore) that coheres well. Nor will I take issue with Kaveh and Mourning Flower, since it's so clearly themed around the Iranian cultural significance of the Kaiser's Crown and dovetails with Kaveh so well, so we can let his single usage of it slide.

My first issue is with Sand Grease Pupa on Alhaitham and Dehya. Alhaitham does not really fit Sand Grease Pupa. Like, I will hear the argument that the description "the hardened shell is meant to protect the Quicksand Eels' larval bodies until they finally acclimate to the conditions of the dry desert" is a subtle reference to Alhaitham's character and temperament, where his """"callousness""" and blunt personality are a method to enforce boundaries and keep the personal peace he strives for in life amidst the sea of uncertainty. But the thing is that doesn't hold for Dehya, who also uses Sand Grease Pupa and doesn't have this kind of thing unless you count her being a hardened mercenary? Which is incredibly strange.

But things are complicated by the fact that there is no satisfactory place to move Alhaitham, unlike previous occasions where we found better places for Chiori and Kirara, etc. Like, I've tried my best, but against all odds the quote I mentioned from Sand Grease Pupa is the only one that remotely seems to work for him, and that's even if I ignore release order and consider Trishiraite or Mourning Flower.

So I feel compelled to keep Sand Grease Pupa. In that case, let's eject Dehya from using it, because it clearly doesn't fit her apart from the desert origin, which isn't even consistent because of Alhaitham. I'll talk about where Dehya should go in a moment, but now we have the problem that Alhaitham is the only user of the Pupa, which is something we try to avoid unless the theming is strong enough (like Kujou Sara - Dendrobium). So, taking into account "a hardened shell" theming, who else fits this?

"I must make a lot of Mora." "With enough Mora, my family will never have to smile at me while swallowing their pain, and I will never have to lose anything due to lacking Mora..."

Ding ding ding! It's Dori. In fact, I want to make the case that she fits Sand Grease Pupa better than Kalpalata Lotus, which she currently uses. The motif of Kalpalata Lotus is about "it looks like a lotus, but it isn't", which... works with Dori, I suppose, but isn't particularly compelling. Meanwhile, the Pupa is a 'hardened shell'— like Alhaitham's own boundary-setting unique personality, Dori's shell is her love of Mora, something she uses to face the outer world after the pain of losing her sister to a disease that could have been cured had they had enough money to purchase the herbs needed. Dori's obsessive love of Mora is real, of course, but it's the "hardened shell" that protects her from disappointment after the trauma of losing her sister. It's almost too perfect! (And, Alhaitham and Dori are some of the only rainforest-origin characters to have a slightly strong enough connection to the desert to justify this, not that we really need to.)

This, obviously, ignores release order. My previous comments on reordering regional specialties in Liyue and Inazuma just so happened to be compliant with the order in which they released the items. However, from Sumeru onward, I no longer care.

Ok, but that leaves Nahida high and dry on Kalpalata Lotus, another single case user. Again, the theming works for her, but it isn't really perfect— of course Nahida represents the "looks weak, is a lot more" archetype pretty well, but it isn't exactly congruent with "looks like a lotus, but isn't", because that's more of a question of identity than of power. I mean, I guess our meeting her in the AQ is kind of like that, but that's also a weak argument.

I think, therefore, we should move Nahida to use the Padisarah, which has hitherto only been used by Nilou, fixing another one of our single-character-material problems and allowing us to delete Kalpalata Lotus (or make it a quest exclusive item to Caribert, that would be cool). Like, I hope I don't need to elaborate why the Padisarah is suitable for Nahida, being a "holy and noble" plant descended from GoF and the era of the Three God-Kings of Sumeru, plus it being a calque (more explicitly in CN) of Padishah, the sovereign title used in Persia and beyond, which of course suits Nahida as she is, like it or not, sovereign ruler of Sumeru (would be a nice fuck you to the Sages too).

Sethos

At this juncture, we need to talk about the elephant in the room. Before Sethos was drip-marketed for version 4.7, I would've completely discounted Trishiraite as useless and said to dump it. However, I now have to reconsider, since Sethos has been leaked to use Trishiraite (wow, were they setting this up more than 9 patches ago?).

We don't know much about Sethos, admittedly, but we know he's a desert native and seems to be affiliated with the Temple of Silence and has connections to Cyno (I have not fully played through Cyno SQ II at the time of writing. If you have a more compelling case based on its events, please give spoiler warnings). Given this, Trishiraite seems perfectly reasonable for him, although there is the question of if he's a Temple of Silence member (albeit seemingly opposed to Cyno, given implications in the trailer), why he isn't just using the Scarab, because just read the Scarab lore:

Legend has it that when the desert king ruled this land, the souls of those vanquished by him would be sealed within these insects by the magically-skilled priests at great triumphs held in the City of the Pillars. The scarabs would then be charged with defending the sacred temples and palaces for all eternity in the name of Al-Ahmar. In the end, the temples would collapse and the palaces would fall, and only these golden insects would remain, fulfilling their ancient, forgotten oaths.

Like, even if we don't know Sethos' true role, his Temple of Silence affiliations (?) would make this far more fitting.

But, as you may have noticed, I've been delaying assigning Dehya anywhere. That's because I think if Sethos does use Trishiraite, Dehya should too. Read the description:

During the sun-swallowing battles of that bygone age, even the hardest of stones were set aflame. As the flames of war died out, all that remained from the calamity were these deep-red ores.

Trishiraite is ore born (allegedly) from the flames of the Cataclysm setting fire to stone. Like, it's a very warlike thing, and it's something that might be ok with Sethos but definitely suits Dehya more than Sand Grease Pupa. The thing is, nobody wins here because if I think Sethos suits Scarab more, that leaves Dehya alone on Trishiraite; if I don't, then Sethos + Dehya use Trishiraite while Cyno stays alone on Scarab, which is fine but ugh....

...unless, of course, we put Dehya on Henna Berry, which is very definitely the "female desert ascension material" and annoying stereotypical (fits with Dehya's love of makeup, though). Then we could make Sethos use Scarab alongside Cyno and just delete Trishiraite anyway, but this is a problem I don't want to propose a definitive solution for. I just think that Dehya shouldn't use Sand Grease Pupa, and Sethos seems weirdly better with Scarab, at least for now.

Sethos

Fontaine

(Warning! I am going to be factoring the ascension material of Clorinde and Sigewinne, who were recently drip-marketed for Version 4.7. This is minor leak territory, but if you don't wish to see it, skip the sections labeled Clorinde and Sigewinne.)

Fontaine is obviously still a nation-in-progress, so I'll cut it some slack, however:

Why does Navia use Spring of the First Dewdrop. Please. For the love of god.

Spring of the First Dewdrop is heavily implied to be somewhat related to Primordial Water, which is just—? Can I say how cruel this is for being Navia's ascension material? Like? Navia, who almost dissolved in the Primordial Water??

Although, the description calls it Ichor, which according to Wine Goblet of the Pristine Sea is the 'essence' extracted from Primordial Water, but then we have the question of why Dewdrop's description calls it "a final gift from Egeria" even though it was Remus who isolated and created Ichor, like we know Egeria was the substitute Heart of the Primordial Sea created by the Shade of Life to replace the Hydro Dragon, so technically the creation of Primordial Water is her domain, but this shouldn't even be her "final gift" anyway because logically that would've been literally anything else she did, because she abandoned that Heart role when she ascended to become the Hydro Archon and then died in sacrifice at Tunigi Hollow to repel the Cataclysm—

But this isn't a rant about Genshin lore, this is about the regional specialty. So.

Navia should not be using this. So, what should she be using? I'd suggest Lumidouce (French: soft-light) Bell, given the variety of people with whom Navia has parted and wishes to be reunited with ("Lumidouce Bell is said to represent parting and the wish for reunion"), but given that this is already being used by Chevreuse and Lynette and is absolutely slated for Emilie, the perfumer, whenever she releases ("...is often used for making rare perfumes"), that would be a bit of a crowd when Fontaine still doesn't have many characters.

Chevreuse doesn't really seem to fit Lumidouce Bell, though. Like, every attribute and theming doesn't seem to relate to her, unless you count the events of Roses and Muskets, which is about her personal feelings on justice, not the actual events that happened which could, possibly, fit the parting and reunion theme. So maybe we can boot Chevreuse off to Subdetection Unit, which actually suits her better— it's a detection unit, which gathers data, and it being used by Wriothesley seems like a not-so-subtle indicator that it's used to gather intelligence and for lack of a better word, spy. Which is something that Chevreuse's job involves, as once again demonstrated by Roses and Muskets.

So, with the Chevreuse tangent out of the way, Navia and Lynette can use the Lumidouce Bell. But what about Dewdrop? Should anyone use that?

Well, the obvious argument for Dewdrop as a Primordial Water thing is that Neuvillette should use it. Like, he's the reborn Hydro Dragon— thematically it makes more sense than Lumitoile (French: light-star). Let's again set aside the problem of time (Neuvillette released Version 4.1, Dewdrop came with the Tower of Ipsissimus in Version 4.2) because it makes things boring...

that being said, it's not entirely unreasonable to have Neuvillette use the Lumitoile, and simply delete the Dewdrop instead. Let's examine that below.

Clorinde and Sigewinne

So, what should we do about Lumitoile? If we move Neuvillette to the Dewdrop, that leaves Clorinde the sole user of the Lumitoile, and it's pretty justified in her case given the unsubtle implication of the Lumitoile as an environmental cleaner/digester and Clorinde's job as a Champion Duellist but with the Marechaussee Hunt techniques she inherits. After all, remember it's Clorinde who starts the plan to 'hunt' Furina in the AQ, to entrap her. She's good at hunting and cleaning up, so that makes the Lumitoile quite suited for her...

...Although, there is a scheme I'm cooking up. See, Sigewinne uses the Romaritime Flower, which fits fine with the Hydro stuff just fine, but I was reading the description of the Romaritime Flower, and it said: "Romaritime Flower is said to represent loyalty and unswerving oaths." And what, apart from being a strong hunter, is Clorinde known for?

Clorinde: Mr. Callas' last wish was for me to ensure your safety, and I will not betray his trust.  Like the Faint Moonlight of Yesteryear, in As Light Rain Falls Without Reason, after Clorinde saves Navia and Traveler from the Gardemek attack

It highly depends on what you think her character hinges more heavily on: hunting, or her loyalty/oath-swearing.

As for Sigewinne, using the Lumitoile would also work, because apart from the obvious Hydro theming, the Lumitoile is also about 'underestimation'— "though the weak light they give off is often ignored by divers, these small soft-bodied animals have the remarkable ability to consume and degrade industrial waste." Sigewinne's surprise gun attack in the AQ earns her this, in my opinion.

This is quite a complicated web to unravel. If Neuvillette no longer uses Lumitoile, then either both Clorinde and Sigewinne should use Lumitoile, or neither. Therefore, let's examine two cases.

1: Neuvillette uses Dewdrop. Therefore, nobody else uses Lumitoile, ergo, Clorinde should use Romaritime Flower alongside Sigewinne to avoid the 'single-user' issue.

2: Neuvillette does not use Dewdrop, and that material is deleted from existence. Therefore, Clorinde and Sigewinne can stay with their current specialty materials: Lumitoile and Romaritime Flower respectively.

I like case 2, personally.

But maybe I'm getting ahead of myself by analysing the ascension materials of characters that haven't released yet. Let's get back to normal.

Clorinde and Sigewinne

Quick recap: Neuvillette uses Dewdrop instead of Navia, and Navia uses Lumidouce Bell in place of Chevreuse, whom we boot off to use the Subdetection Unit. Therefore, we have solved the problem of Navia and Wriothesley being the only user of one ascension material, and realistically we have to leave Neuvillette alone with the Dewdrop because no one else actually makes sense ascending via Primordial Water, what the fuck.

Ahem.

We also leave Furina alone, being the Lakelight Lily dovetails with Erinnyes and the lore of her weapon, Splendour of Tranquil Waters.

So that leaves Charlotte with the Beryl Conch. Hey, Charlotte, what the fuck? Like, the Beryl Conch doesn't have anything visibly in common with her. It glows, and it's not actually a shell but something condensed from elemental energy. It's theorised to have connections to "ancient civilisations". What else? If you take this from Charlotte's 'investigative journalism' angle, perhaps the Conch can symbolise Charlotte digging for the truth, but the "oh perhaps the Conch has marks left by the Hydro Lord or is related to ancient civilisations" is such a weak connection to that kind of "what is the truth" ethos that Charlotte represents.

So, get rid of the Beryl Conch. Then what should Charlotte use? There's an obvious option here: what ascension material have we just talked about that applies to information-gathering, spying, and mechanical parts? What boss did I assign Charlotte to in this post about boss material bloat that also fits her mechanical companion, Monsieur Verite?

That's right.

The former two, as justified above, also share the Subdetection Unit. So why not Charlotte? It's the 'mechanical' ascension material of Fontaine, just like Prototype Cal. Breguet is the corresponding 'mechanical' boss material. Last time, I justified this with the mechanical focus of the three characters: Wriothesley's gauntlets and his rule of the steampunk-themed Fortress of Meropide, Chevreuse's gun and rifle focus, and Charlotte's entire kit and lore revolving around Monsieur Verite in her pursuit of journalism. This applies here, but it gets better because they also share the theming of the Subdetection Unit's 'spying/detection/information-gathering'.

It's so perfect that it feels a bit too perfect, actually, but who am I to complain? This would cut down on another ill-fitting regional specialty and make farming easier for all of us.

***

Thanks for reading! And letting me rant about this. I have problems with how Genshin treats boss and ascension materials with some degree of lore relevancy, only to also throw some of that relevancy out the window when it suits them. It's inconsistent and bothers me, lol.

[umber-cinders]

Title:  Incubus

Pairing: Attuma x Okoye, Incubus!Attuma x Witch!Okoye

Story Summary: Okoye works hard for her coven. She's loyal to her coven sisters and patient with her students. But—on her night off—she gets an urgent call from one of her senior students about the summoning of a demon. Not knowing what mess her students have gotten her into, Okoye has to find a more creative way to send the creature back to where he came from.

or

Okoye's meddling students summon an Incubus from another dimension and now she has to contend with its hunger.

This is my contribution to @theattoyearchive's 2023 Attoye Kinktober Event 💖💙 Warnings:  🔞EXPLICIT SEXUAL !! 🚨READ THE TAGS !!🚨Teratophillia, Terato, That means Monsterfucking, Human/Incubus Romance, Sex Demon Shenanigans, Cunnilingus, Inappropriate Use of Magic, Explicit Language, PIV Sex,

🦇Happy Halloween Fellow Heathens!👻

Angry wasn’t the correct word for what Okoye was currently feeling. Something more eloquent and violent like ‘furious’, was much more accurate. She gripped the steering wheel with enough force to make the leather creak as she slowed to turn left into a few rows of warehouses. When Inyanga—one of the intermediate members of her coven—had called to enlighten her about the situation at hand, she was told that the location she was looking for would be the warehouse on the right, closest to the harbour.

Okoye was going to kill the obstinate young witch! And Aneka, Shuri and Riri too! They would all be reprimanded for this based on the inconvenience alone!

Okoye had finally gotten time to herself for the first evening in nearly a month, and in the middle of her freshly drawn bath and soothing candlelight, Inyanga called with an emergency. Okoye had let the calls go through to voicemail the first two times, but a third call meant it was urgent. The recounted tale had her up and out of the water in an instant, hurriedly urging the younger witch to stay put and not call anyone else.

Especially if that ‘someone else’ turned out to be Madame Ramonda.

If the sharp-eyed coven mistress heard anything about what was going on tonight, it would be more than just a few young witches with their asses on the line. As the priestess overseeing their tutelage, Okoye would also be held responsible for any of their mischief.

As her car slowly swung a right and pulled into the fenced-off area around the harbour, her headlights hit the four young witches huddled together near the gate. The light gleamed off the metallic sheen of the various jewellery they wore. It caught the frightened shine of Riri’s eyes when Okoye shifted her car into park. She turned the engine off, and the area was immediately blanketed into darkness. There was no moon in the sky and the streetlights were far and few between. However, Shuri was holding her phone’s flashlight; it cast an eerie silver-blue glow on the limited area it could reach.

Okoye took a deep, slow breath. She was incredibly angry, but she was still a priestess of the Dora Coven. She was here to provide protection and guidance—she needed to stay level-headed. She rose from the driver’s seat with a straight-backed grace and turned her unhappy focus on her charges. All four of them flinched when the door slammed closed behind her. It had shut soundly with an absent wave of her hand.

As her two senior students, the priestess’s eyes honed in on Aneka and Inyanga first. “What have you done?”

⇈ Read The Rest On Ao3 ⇈

[taldigi]

Okay, uh here are some persona ideas. I expanded the themes of tricksters and thieves, to rebels as well. If you add anymore, I’m happy to come up with some more if you want! ^_^

SHIHO

A popular choice for Shiho is Boudicca, a queen of an ancient Iceni tribe, and national British hero. She is known for her failed uprising against the Roman Empire, but was immortalized as a symbol for the struggle for Justice and independence. The inciting incident that jump started her revolution was when she was flogged and her daughters, uh… “assaulted”. Shiho fortunately, most likely took Kamoshida down in contrast with Boudicca’s failed uprising.

HIFUMI

If you want to go for the Oni aesthetic, Maybe Minamoto no Raikō would suffice. He is a samurai known for slaying Shuten Dōji, a demon known for kidnapping young girls and either enslaving them or eating them. Raikō and his allies infiltrated his lair, disguised themselves as yamabushi priests, and gave Shuten Dōji special saké, which incapacitated him allowing him to slay the wicked oni. Hifumi is someone very perceptive and focused on strategy more than raw power. Raikō utilized several of the traits the phantom thieves use and Shuten Dōji could represent her mother twisting things to make her famous and Hifumi changing her heart (if she’s a palace ruler).

MISHIMA

Even if Ryuji is now the resident Navigator, he lacks Futaba’s technological know how and ability to gather information. So I imagine Mishima to take that mantle. As you said Merlin fits Mishima, but I have a few ideas myself you can possibly use; Jekyll & Hyde. Mishima, for all his cringefailness, harbours a dark side, as proved via him developing a shadow or corrupted desires of his own. But not only could this represent his darker desires, it could also be Mishima taking the first step into becoming someone he could be proud of, referring to the transformation between Jekyll and Hyde.

RYUJI

While you said Captain Kidd is his persona, I couldn’t get the thought of his Navigator persona being the Argo. The Argo is the ship the argonauts sailed upon their many adventures, and within it’s walls held several thieves and tricksters of their own right. Ryuji, like a ship desires to protect and guide his allies throughout stormy waters, even if he can’t move on his own.

Shihio: It fits very much! Though I'm still super on the fence. She's not coming to me as easily as the others are- I'll pin this as well for now and puzzle on her some more.

Hifumi: Usually the persona genders line up pretty 1-1 with their wielders, so having one be contrary is a really neat- especially when the stories line up. Unfortunately, I am struggling to find actual stuff on the character, as the Fate Grand Order character is dominating search results. I'll look into it more!

Mishimia: Ohh, I like that- I like it a LOT. It would fit that Hyde would be the shape of his rebellion. Im.. kind of suprised they chose Loki instead of Hyde of Akechi now that I think about it LOL. I like that a lot. I'll take it.

Ryuji: Is it.. is it bad I think it's kind of a crime to separate a golden retriever from his pirate captain bonesona? I mean, you're right. You're very right. But I can't separate the pirate theming. Tho, jumping off that point- perhaps a pirate vessel? The Flying Dutchman or the R.L.S. Legacy the Hispaniola or smth. I can imagine the conversation now: "Your inner self is a boat?" "Yes. She's beautiful, isn't she?"

[spiriteddreams]

— 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢'𝐦 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 flower crown for xiao <3 allusions to reincarnation at the end

the qingxin flowers in your hand seem to be wilting with each hurried step that you take in the mountains of jueyun karst. you glance between looking in front of you to the woven flowers that you hold, praying that they'll stay together for just a moment longer. you curse the stairs and your own lacking adeptal abilities. if only you could teleport somewhere in an instant, certainly it would make this trip much faster.

"xiao!" your voice is breathless in the wind as you finally reach the top, looking over the crystal waters outside of cloud retainer's abode. and sitting on one of the stone chairs in the little island is xiao, who's already busied himself with drinking a cup of tea. but at the call of his name, his head snaps over in your direction, cup wobbling in his hands as he stares at you for a moment before his shoulders drop in relaxation.

he watches in his usual quiet observing manner as you rush towards him, unaware of the way his eyes watch your every movement, ready to dart forward to catch you should he fall. he's content to sit back with a cup of tea, his hands wrapped around smooth ceramic to stop himself from reaching out. he scoffs at that thought in the back of his mind. who is he, to reach out to you. mortal life is so fleeting, flashing by in an instant and he, who has stayed the same for thousands of years, has watched centuries go bye in the blink of an eye.

and yet he waits patiently for you.

"you're late again." he sighs when you finally come to sit across from him. you roll your eyes with a grin, bringing your hands forward to offer him the flowers in your hands. he stares at the stems of qingxin that have been woven together into a crown, narrowing in on how some of the petals have already begun to wilt.

he raises his eyebrows, "what is this?"

"a gift, of course!" before he can stop you, the crown is placed upon his head. his hands immediately go to rip it off but you're quicker, letting out a shout of protest and grabbing his hands in yours, squeezing gently as you cried out for him to leave it there.

"zhongli said that other than drinking qingxin tea, placing the flowers on the body can calm the mind!" you recall the words that your old friend had said to you during a visit to liyue harbour.

xiao squints at you and mutters under his breath, "and you believed it?" you ignore his remark and instead move to pour yourself a cup of tea, well aware that he hasn't made another attempt to remove the flowers upon his head.

he's afraid to touch them, afraid that the moment his fingers graze them, they'll crumble beneath his fingertips and be swept away by the wind. the flowers are light on his head and he can smell the sweetness of the flowers from where they sit atop him, white petals nestled in dark hair. for a moment, the invisible weight on his shoulders seems to lessen as you beam at him from your seat across from him, eyes flickering between his face at the flower crown.

at that moment, he decides he'll entertain you. he isn't quite sure why, but the satisfied smile on your face, and the thankful lack of teasing, doesn't prickle him with the urge to rip it off. perhaps, the old archon is right, and the effects of qingxin on the body is calming.

or, perhaps, it's your presence alone, that blankets over him, a loving soul of warmth and comfort, reminiscent of someone he knew from long ago. you remind him, in the warmest ways, of a life before karmic debt, where suffering and demons weren't plaguing his consciousness. so as he entertains your conversation, caught up in the melody of your voice and the fondness of your eyes, he holds onto the relived memories of you over and over and prays that you won't leave him again soon.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3 a/n: guess how long the first half of this was in my drafts. hint: longer than 5 months

[grimbanes]

kaz brekker being a menace! six of crows edition;

kaz and matthias underrated moment: “were you always good at locks?” “no.” “how did you learn?” “the way you learn about anything. take it apart.” “and the magic tricks?” kaz snorted. “so you don’t think im a demon anymore?” “I know you’re a demon, but your tricks are human.”

Kaz’s grin was as sharp as a razor. “Thank goodness we’re proper thieves. We’re going to do a little shopping and it’s all going on Fjerda’s tab. Inej,” he said, “let’s start with something shiny.” - chapter 28.

“when we get our money, you can burn kruge to keep you warm,” kaz said. “i’m going to pay someone to burn my kruge for me.” kaz fell into step beside him. “why don’t you pay someone else to pay someone else to burn your kruge for you? that’s what the big players do.” - chapter 19.

“please tell me kaz hasn’t gone missing again,” nina said. - chapter 37.

kaz marvelled at his own stupidity. dumber than a pigeon fresh off the boat and looking to make a fortune on the east stave. - chapter 45.

“son of a bitch,” he exclaimed a second later. rollins held up his watch chain. a turnip was hanging from the fob where his diamond-studded timepiece should have been. “that little bastard-“ then a thought came to him. he reached for his wallet. it was gone. so was his tie pin, the kaelish coin pendant he wore for luck, and the gold buckles on his shoes. rollins wondered if if he should check the fillings in his teeth. - chapter 46.

They blew up the lab, he’d thought as the debris rained down around him. I definitely did not tell them to blow up the lab. - chapter 38.

The harbour had lifted her dark hair, and for a moment Kaz was a boy again, sure that there was magic in this world. She’d laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and got drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him. - chapter 38.

“And get me clean clothes and fresh water.” “Since when am I your valet?” “Man with a knife, remember?” He said over his shoulder. “Man with a gun!” Jesper called after him. Kaz replied with a time-saving gesture that relied heavily on his middle finger. - chapter 13.

At any given time he had at least two knives stashed somewhere in his clothes. He didn’t even count this one, really - a tidy, wicked little blade. - chapter 13.

“This is disgusting.” kaz shrugged. “Only disgusting thing about it is that I didn’t think of it first.” “These men aren’t slaves, kaz. they’re prisoners.” “they’re murderers and rapists.” “and thieves and con artists. your people.” “nina, sweet, they aren’t forced to fight.” - chapter 6.

these are just some favourites from the first book that made me laugh very loudly.

[jinxhallows]

𝐔𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 .

━━━━━━━━

☾ -- ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛs

prologue | chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight | chapter nine ((you are here)) |

━━━━━━━━

ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ -- @sikebishes @hamburgers101 @felix-housewife

☾ -- ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ɢᴇᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ? ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ

━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇ | ᴡᴄ: 𝟼.𝟹ᴋ

━━━━━━━━

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you watch the two demons in uniform converse by their cruiser. You're not dealing with human cops, but demons.  

“Why are we playing by their rules? Two demons can barely take me, let alone the rest of us.” Hyunjin seethes, his temper beginning to flare. 

“Brother, I know you’re smarter than that, unless you’re just looking for a fight,” Felix says, his eyes watching every move the officers make in the mirror, “You know how this works.” 

“If they’re cops, they’re a higher rank than a regular demon, and yes, we could clear them out, but they report to someone else, and if that someone else doesn’t get the report well–” Chan softly cracks his knuckles, “–we’re gonna find ourselves in more trouble than we asked for.” 

“Do they know what we are?” You ask. 

“When I tried to use my persuasion, he felt it, I could tell.” 

Suddenly, the demons turn and approach the car. Your heart pounds in your chest as they come closer, their eyes scanning each of you with a knowing gaze. The one who spoke before, with the thick mustache, leans down to Felix's window, his breath hot against his skin. You can smell the faint scent of sulfur on the demon's breath, and you swallow hard, trying to hide your fear. 

“Can I see your license and registration?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly. 

Felix hands over the necessary documents, and you watch as the demon studies the papers before passing them back. 

“Everything seems to be in order,” he says, a sly smile creeping across his face. His eyes linger on you for a moment too long, and you feel like he's seeing straight through you.  

“Just be sure to drive safely, wouldn't want any accidents now, would we?” 

You watch in silence as they retreat to their cruiser, the sound of boots crunching in the gravel and echoing in your ears. Felix continues down the road towards the town, carefully watching the police car disappear further and further in the distance out of the rearview mirror.  He looks at the road ahead again, beginning to piece together what had happened. 

“Someone wanna explain what the hell that was about?” Jisung finally quips, looking around miraculously at how calm and quiet everyone was after such an incident.  “We get pulled over for doing absolutely nothing by two demons who just–let us go?” 

“I’m gonna tell you right now, getting pulled over for doing absolutely nothing is a thing in America, Jisung you live here, you should know that,” You say, brow furrowed, “How close are we to Twilight Harbour?” You ask, your focus now directed ahead at the two in the front seat.  The feeling of that cop staring right at you gave you a strange impression that he knew something else, something more. 

“Eleven minutes.” Hyunjin replies. 

“They’ve got cops patrolling right before you get to the town?” 

Jisung snaps his fingers, the thought striking him suddenly, “Felix you said Abysmora’s curse infected the town.” 

He nods, “It was a theory based off what I found in the cursebook but I see it must be true.  I wonder what they’re trying to keep in?” 

You study the endless deep water on the edge of the harbour, black and still, like an abyss.  It prompts you to speak up and ask, 

“Or who they’re trying to keep out?” 

━━━━━━━━

The streets of Twilight Harbour are eerily quiet as he heads towards the coffee shop, with only a few streetlights casting a dim glow on the sidewalks. The shop's sign, which reads "Santiago's Brew," hangs above the entrance, and as he unlocks the door and steps inside, he's immediately hit with the rich aroma of freshly roasted coffee beans. 

Santiago, the coffee shop owner, stands tall and proud with broad shoulders and a muscular build. His features are strikingly handsome, with a chiseled jawline and high cheekbones that accentuate his rugged yet refined look. His long curly hair, styled in a bun, falls in thick, luscious waves that frame his brown-skinned face and cascade down his broad shoulders. 

His deep-set, mesmerizing green eyes are piercing, and they seem to radiate an energy that draws people towards him. His skin is warm and sun-kissed, glowing with a healthy sheen that suggests he spends plenty of time outdoors. He has a subtle yet alluring scent of sandalwood and earthy herbs that seems to linger in the air around him. 

Santiago exudes a sense of calm and tranquility, and there's an aura of mysticism and spirituality that surrounds him.  

The coffee shop itself is a small, cozy space that's tucked away on a quiet corner in Twilight Harbour. The interior is dark until he switches on the dim lights, a few small lamps casting warm pools of light on the wooden tables and chairs. The walls are lined with shelves of coffee mugs and bags of beans, along with some antique coffee-making equipment that Santiago has collected over the years. 

He expertly maneuvers the machinery behind the counter, brewing himself up a potent cup of brew.  He slides his thumb across the screen of his phone, unlocking it and pressing send on the number, holding the phone to his ear as he sips his coffee, watching the stillness outside of the window from behind the counter. 

Ring. 

Ring. 

“Santiago, my dear friend, I’m always happy to hear from you but your timing is a little off at the moment–” 

“My boys caught wind of them ten minutes ago, they should be pulling up any minute now…” 

Minho’s interest is grabbed as he sits back in the scalding hot natural spring. He enjoys the heat, as it’s close to an active volcano, and reminds him of trips to Hell when he was a little boy. He encourages his friend to continue, “Go on,” 

Santiago chuckles, sipping his coffee again as he watches the truck pull up to the small lot across the street, everyone coming out.  He walks from around the counter, setting his mug down as he heads over to the window near the front.   

“One of ‘em got bright red hair?” He asks. 

It’s now Minho’s turn to chuckle as he’s handed a champagne flute by a well-dressed server.  “That’s them alright.” He takes a sip from his glass.  “Don’t underestimate them, Santiago, they are more trouble than they look, especially the red-haired one.” 

“Yeah? You think they’ll make it?” 

“I’m counting on it. I’m never friends with the weak, they can’t do anything for me that I can’t do for myself.” 

Santiago hears the words, but his attention is soon drawn to you. He watches intently as a man with silken, raven hair helps you out of the truck, dusting you off and straightening your clothes with a tenderness that catches Santiago off guard. His breath catches in his throat as he sees the man kiss you, the way your eyes light up with joy. 

“Santiago, are you there?” 

Minho’s voice finally breaks his daze, and he answers, “I’ll call you back.” 

He ends the call, looking around the shop, trying to collect himself and his thoughts.  He knew what Minho had asked of him, sure, getting to Abysmora was something an Archdemon like Santiago could manage fairly well; fairly only considering that having five extra bodies as baggage made him more vulnerable and exposed to attacks. 

And he explained the hybrid, the vampires, the witches; but he never mentioned, 

You. 

 ━━━━━━━━

The aroma of brewed coffee mixes with the thick smell of sulfur. It hangs in the air like a weighted blanket. Chan's senses are at work, as he takes in the smells around him. He notes the smells that linger in the air, confirming the presence of demons as predicted. But something else catches his attention, causing him to stiffen. 

"Blood," Chan mutters under his breath, his sharp eyes scanning the area. "Old blood, fresh blood. Death, lots of it." 

The peaceful town suddenly feels ominous, as if it's hiding dark secrets within its walls. 

"This is the coffeeshop?" Chan sees, breaking the eerie silence. "I was expecting something a bit more...I dunno, evil?" His tone goes up at the end as he’s unsure if that’s an unfair prejudice or if he’s just trying to be proactive. His eyes never stop scanning, his nose still twitching as he takes in the surroundings. Despite the unsettling feeling in the air, Chan stays calm and collected and he opens the door to the coffee shop, the bells jingling upon your entry as you step inside, followed by the others. 

You look around at the antiques and the atmosphere.  You had never been in a coffee shop at three in the morning, and the entire feeling was different than what you were used to.  You too, felt sensitive to whatever was blanketing Twilight Harbour in its darkness, but inside of the coffeeshop, your nerves were eased a little. 

“You must be Minho’s friends.” 

The voice is so familiar, you feel lightheaded at the idea of it.  No, it couldn’t be, it cannot be.   

Turning around, you’re face to face with him, in the flesh. 

Santiago. 

━━━━━━━━

A few years prior… 

“You can’t keep doing this, I worked for hours to make tonight special for us,” You take off your oven mitt, slamming it onto the counter.  Your forehead had a sheen of sweat, your edges had poofed from the humidity and your feet hurt. “You told me this was the one night you could spend with me.” 

As Santiago inhales the aroma of the sumptuous meal in front of him, he can't help but feel a pang of guilt for ruining what was supposed to be a romantic date night with you. When he had suggested the idea earlier, he never imagined that he would be summoned back to work on another mission for the high priest. He wishes he could confide in you about the true nature of his job as one of the four Archdemons working alongside the elite families. But the weight of his responsibility and the consequences of betrayal weigh heavily on him, and he knows he can't risk putting you in danger. 

Santiago admires your inquisitive nature and your ability to sense when something is off, but he knows that if he told you the truth, you would be compelled to intervene, and that would put you in grave danger. It's something that he loves and respects about you, but it's also the reason why he must keep his true identity hidden from you. Though you may have suspected something was amiss in the past, your speculations ranged from infidelity to waning interest. The reality is far more complicated, and he can't bear the thought of you getting hurt or entangled in his world. 

Despite your mutual vow to lead a normal life, Santiago's responsibilities as an Archdemon often intrude into your world, forcing him to smite upper-ranking demons and come home in the dead of the night to seek comfort in your arms. The toll it takes on him, and on your relationship, is becoming increasingly exhausting. Santiago yearns for a simpler life, but he also knows that the cost of failure is too high to ignore. 

Santiago's heart wrenches as he watches you push him away, the pain in your eyes cutting through him like a knife. "Y/N, I'm sorry, baby, come here, come--" he pleads, his arms reaching out to pull you close. But you resist, your body stiffening against his touch. 

He fights against your resistance, desperate to hold you in his arms. Finally, he manages to wrap his arms around you, pulling you close as you break down into sobs. Santiago rests his chin atop your fluffy hair, his heart aching at the thought of causing you so much pain. 

"Just tell me you don't want me anymore, Santiago. Just leave me," you cry into his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt and soaking it with your tears. 

Santiago feels his own tears threatening to spill over as he holds you tight, his heart breaking at the sound of your sobs. He knows that he's hurt you deeply, and the guilt is eating away at him. "I can't leave you, Y/N," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I love you too much to ever leave you." 

You pull away from him, your eyes red and puffy from crying. "Just leave me, Santiago!" You cry out, your voice filled with pain and anger. 

━━━━━━━━

“I’m Santiago.” 

“You’re the one getting us to Abysmora, yeah? Nice to finally meet you, I’m Chris, these are my brothers, Hyunjin and Felix, our friend Jisung, and our little witch, Y/N.” 

As Chan's voice breaks through your flashback, you're startled back to reality. You watch in a daze as he shakes hands with your ex-boyfriend, feeling an overwhelming sense of shock and disbelief. Your attention is so consumed by the situation at hand that you don't even realize how closely Hyunjin is watching your every move, his blue eyed gaze picking up on the slightest changes in your demeanor. The rapid beating of your heart is almost deafening in your ears, and you can feel the anxiety building up inside you until it becomes almost unbearable. 

As the fear begins to seep out of your pores, you catch a glimpse of Felix looking over at you with concern, his eyes darting back and forth between you and the two men in front of you. Despite your efforts to remain composed, you know that your discomfort is written all over your face, and you feel as though you're about to break down at any moment. Every instinct in your body tells you to run, to escape from this situation as quickly as possible, but you're rooted to the spot, unable to move or even speak. 

“Little witch, hm?” He nods at you before looking at the others, “Nice to finally meet you as well, you took long enough to get here, no?” He laughs and you try to avoid his gaze, focusing on your shoes instead.   

Yeah, Chan’s so proud of you and how capable you are, and how strong you are. 

You’re about to shit yourself in a room with your past and your future. 

So brave.   

“Minho is a man of few words, so I don’t know much about any of you,” Santiago begins to walk around the counter, “But follow me and I’ll show you where you can rest for the day before we head out, and then we can get to know each other over some drinks and some food, how’s that sound?” 

“That sounds great Santiago, thanks for the hospitality.” Felix is always the most courteous one, even when he doesn’t mean it.  Santiago beckons for you to follow him. He guides you to a cozy wine cellar, lit by dim oil lamps. There are two small rooms with fireplaces, and two beds in each. The warmth of the fire and the soft glow of the lamps create a calming atmosphere, but you're still struggling to shake off the anxiety that's been weighing you down. 

"I'll be right back," Santiago says, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he leaves the room, closing the door behind him. 

You're left alone with Felix, Jisung, Chan, and Hyunjin, and the silence is loud. You can hear the rush of your breath, and the whispers of your own thoughts. You wonder how you ended up in this situation, with your past and your future colliding in such a bizarre way. 

“So, I don’t trust him,” Hyunjin says at once, slipping his shoes off. 

“I don’t trust him either.” Felix agrees, walking around the room, his hands in his pockets as he peers at the stone walls and looks around for clues to their host's true intentions. 

“We’ve had to take a few detours to get here, so how did he know the precise time that we would arrive?” Hyunjin asks, “That must’ve been why we got pulled over.  They knew who we were, they were expecting us.”   

“Hold on guys, can we suspend the paranoia for like, a second? Of course, they were expecting us, you said this Minho Lee guy is a big deal.  If we’re considered ‘friends’ of his, that makes us a pretty big deal too.” You finally add softly.  You gently defend Santiago, he’s never been the type to have ill intentions, at least not back when you knew him.   

But people do change.   

“Little witch is right, for now, we should try to feed and rest, it’s only going to get rougher from here on out.” Chan defends you, rubbing your back between your shoulder blades, sensing your tenseness and discomfort.  You feel guilt pinching at your insides at how he immediately took your side, trusting your perspective and judgement of character.  You hadn’t even done anything yet and you already felt like you were hiding something from him. 

Well then again, you were. 

You two had promised each other, 

‘No more secrets’ 

But this was different, wasn’t it? You could tell him after you get the Blood Bloom, otherwise, it’ll just make the whole trip complicated.  You weren’t keeping a secret, you were just withholding the entire truth for now, but you’ll tell him, you promise yourself, when it’s all said and done.     

“If things go left, we kill him, no worries.” Chan's words are chilling, he says them nonchalantly, as if he’s speaking about going for a walk, but you know he means them.  He was the perfect example of having more bite than his bark, quite literally.  All the brothers had that effect; Felix’s smile would disarm you, Hyunjin’s allure would attract you, and Chan’s presence would welcome you, and make you feel comfortable to let your guard down.   

All for each of them to turn around and snap your neck at whatever discretion they upheld for themselves.   

Hyunjin is sitting on the floor, by the fire that’s just as bright as his mane, the flames reflecting along the side of his face.  He’s watching you, still, he’s watching you so much, that you can feel the weight, the heat of his stare.   

“Pretty witch,” He calls to you, “Why don’t we see about our little toyd while we’ve got some time before bed? Felix, would you come too?”   

You can tell he’s trying to get you alone to question you away from Chan.   

“That’s perfect actually, I wanted to have a little chat with our host anyhow.”    

Chan's words hang in the air, leaving a lingering tension in the room. Jisung hesitates, his hand still on the doorknob as he turns to look at Chan. "I'm going with you Chan," he says with a sense of urgency in his voice. 

Chan pauses, his hand resting on the doorframe. He looks back at Jisung, his expression blank. "Actually Jisung," he says slowly, "I'm gonna need to handle this alone for just a moment." He gives Jisung a nod before stepping out of the door and closing it behind him. 

The suddenness of Chan's departure leaves the rest of you feeling uneasy. "Something's been off with him ever since we got here," Jisung remarks, voicing the concerns of the group. 

Hyunjin stands up, his gaze flickering around the room. "Perhaps it's the town," he suggests, "Christophe has keener senses than the rest of us, he's probably sensitive to the curse."  

The group exchanges glances, unsure of what to do next. After a few moments, Hyunjin breaks the silence. "Well, shall we?" he asks, gesturing towards the door. 

━━━━━━━━

The coffeeshop remains quiet and still.  Santiago is in his back office, cursing Minho on the phone for leaving him so ill prepared.   

“How was I supposed to know she was your ex? Santiago, you never even told me about her--”   

“Because I wanted to keep her safe! We wanted to live a normal life together,” He crumples the piece of paper he holds in his hand, and it dissolves into ash, and he releases it onto the wooden floor.   

“Your father ruined that.”   

“He ruins a lot of things.” Minho replies. He steps out of the hot tub, steam rising off his skin as he wraps a towel around his hips. “That’s why I’m going to kill him.”   

The archdemon can sense the presence of another nearby.  “Gotta go.” He mutters, quickly ending the call as Chan appears in the doorway.   

“Hello Chris,” Santiago forces a smile, “How’s everyone settling in?”   

Chan enters the room, and his eyes immediately scan the space, taking in every detail. The scent of freshly burnt paper and sulfur from the demons fills his nostrils, but there's another smell too - the subtle scent of cologne that hangs in the air. He studies Santiago's face, trying to gauge his demeanor.   

"Just fine, I'd say," Chan says as he strides towards the chair in front of the desk. As he settles into the chair, he can feel Santiago's stare on him. “You have a nice little hideaway down there.”   

Santiago wonders if you’ve told him already.  He decides to wait and see if Chan reveals the information himself.    

Sitting one-on-one in front of the now subject of your shining smile and affection, he can't help but appraise the man. He's good-looking, albeit a bit short, but Santiago knows that you've never cared much about superficial things like that. 

“What brings you up here with Dawn so close by?” Santiago wants to know if this was the hybrid of the group, but he already had a pretty good guess that it was, no vampire would take a chance on being around openly like this so close to sunrise. Santiago’s piercing green eyes linger on Chan's face as he asks the question. The dimly lit room is filled with an intense air of suspicion and curiosity. 

“I’m a hybrid,” Chan offers, his voice laced with confidence. “Wolf, Vampire, and Witch. Sunlight doesn’t do much, especially all the way back here.” The words come out smoothly, but he knows this demon is probing for more information. 

Santiago leans back in his chair, letting out a low whistle. “Impressive combination,” he says, his tone tinged with admiration. “Oh, but I’m guessing you can’t conjure? I mean, with the Vampire blood complicating things? Does the witch blood even count?” 

Chan can sense the demon's attempt to assert dominance over him, and he's not about to let it happen. He takes a deep breath before responding, his voice steady and unwavering. 

“My mother was murdered by the Pavo coven for her power, so I dunno,” Chan leans back in his chair this time, rolling his tongue in his mouth, “I’d say it counts for something.” The room falls silent as Chan's words hang in the air, his mother's legacy heavy on his shoulders.   

 The only sounds are the creaking of the old wooden chair as Santiago leans back and the soft rustling of Chan's clothing as he shifts in his seat. Despite the stillness, there is a strange vibe between the two, each sizing up the other in a battle of wills.   

“Mm, yes.” Santiago nods in understanding.   

“And you?”   

“Huh?”   

“Obviously you’re a demon, I can smell that much.” Chan says, eyes twinkling “But Minho called you his ‘close friend’ when we last spoke, so tell me, Santiago,”   

“What are you?” 

━━━━━━━━

“Pretty witch is keeping secrets,” Hyunjin sings, poking you in your side playfully, “What, you’ve got a thing for the coffeeshop owner? It’s okay, you can tell me, I don’t believe humans are monogamous anyway-” 

You bat his hand away with a chuckle that ends with a sigh of discontent. 

“He’s my ex.” You say, as quiet as you can manage.  When Felix and Hyunjin’s eyes both widen you hurriedly add, “Don’t say anything, please?” 

“Oh, this entire trip just got a lot more interesting,” Hyunjin’s troublemaking grin is starting to creep along his pink lips, “Christophe is going to have a field day when he finds out.” 

“Hyunjin, come on,” You whine, “Pretty Please?”   

“I’m not going to tell but Christophe is no fool, he’ll be able to sense you just like we did.”   

“I wonder if that’s why he went upstairs?” You ask, looking between the brothers worriedly.   

Felix shakes his head, “I don’t think he noticed, not yet, but you can’t hide this forever, little witch.  Would it be worse if he found out himself or if you told him?”   

Hyunjin snickers, “I think either way would be bad for Santiago.”   

“I’d like to believe our brother is more mature than that.” Felix counters, “Everyone has a past, and with the way you handled Amelia, I think he owes you understanding in this, at the very least.”   

A frustrated sigh rumbles out of your throat at the idea of another tough conversation wherein you looked like the bad guy...again.  You wave your hand, “Let’s sort through Hyunjin’s problems and then we can move onto mine.” You’re turning over the sanitizing UVB wand in your hands, looking it over before you glance at the boys, “Ready?”   

Felix steps between you and his red headed younger sibling.  “I haven’t been able to research like I’d like to, being so far from my repository like this, but, I have a theory, brother,” Felix faces his sibling, “You’re not gonna like it, but we’ll have to try it anyhow.”   

“You always have a theory Felix,” Hyunjin gives his brother a challenging smirk, stepping backwards, spreading his arms out wide, “Show me what you’ve got.” 

You’re not gonna like it. 

Hyunjin had no idea what he was getting into when he agreed to the proposition. He certainly didn't expect to be lying on a bed, completely immobilized. His wrists are tightly bound to the corners of the mattress, and ropes and chains are securely fastened to the bed frame below him. 

Felix and you work together quickly, meticulously weaving the metal chainlinks and thick twine around Hyunjin's body, creating a criss-cross pattern that leaves no room for movement. Hyunjin can’t help the sense of excitement mixed with apprehension. Felix hums thoughtfully to himself as he stands over him, surveying the handiwork. 

The chains and twine feel heavy against Hyunjin's skin, the cool metal links sending shivers down his spine. As he struggles against his restraints, testing the limits of his bondage, he feels a surge of adrenaline through his veins.   

“I’ll be right back,” Felix says, while you’re stretched over Hyunjin’s body, pulling tightly at the rope around his left wrist, feeling the satisfying gratification of tugging without releasing the knot.   

“Pretty witch has me right where she wants me,” Hyunjin sighs with a lopsided grin as he watches you look down at him with a side eye before you move to the other wrist.   

“Pretty vampire has me right where he wants me, too bad he can’t do anything about it.” You fire back with a snug pull on his wrist that makes him grimace in pain, but he likes it.   

Hyunjin is a sadist and a masochist, that much was certain.   

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” He muses with a pout, his blue eyes watching your every move.  He lifts his head as you move down to his legs.  “Tell me, do you think I’m prettier than my brothers?”   

You tighten the knot on his left ankle.  “You know what I think?”    

You tighten the right ankle and give it a light tap, signaling your completion.  You lean over the bed, your face inches from Hyunjin’s, your hair faintly tickles the sides of his jaw.  You gently trace your pointer finger across his lips as you lock eyes.   

“The prettiest thing I’ve ever seen is your brother’s face when he’s cumming inside of me.” You tap his cheek gently and burst into laughter as he kisses his teeth, rolling his eyes and pulling at the restraints.   

“Hey now, stop it,” You chastise, “You agreed to this, remember?”   

He relaxes, his focus on the ceiling. He readies himself to speak, but hesitates.  Was there even a point in bringing it up? Something urged him to blurt it out anyway,   

“You said you think this is somehow because of my mother, why?”   

His voice is barely above a whisper, but his curiosity is evident. 

You pull up a wooden stool and sit next to him, offering comfort to the vampire. The room is quiet except for the occasional clinking of the chains and the crackle of the fireplace. "Is it so unlikely? You guys cheat death all the time to come back, what if she's doing the same?"  

Hyunjin's eyes dart towards you, his expression skeptical. "There's no coming back from being staked through the heart," he retorts, a little more aggressively than intended. 

You remain undaunted and lean closer, reaching out to touch his face gently. "You're connected to her through your blood, Hyunjin, you don't have to summon her to reach her. She lives in you," you say, your voice soothing. 

Your words seem to ease some of the vampire's tension, and he shifts his position, glancing up at the ceiling. "I've become so used to this," he says. He flexes his arm, and the chains clink together. "I don't know what to do after Abysmora." 

"You live, Hyunjin. Live your life the way you've always wanted to," you encourage, wishing he could see the wide open path ahead of him like you could. 

Hyunjin turns his gaze towards you, and you can see a hint of sadness in his eyes. "That's just it, pretty witch. I don't know how to," he admits, his voice broken. 

"There's never been a how-to on living life, little brother," Felix speaks from behind and you turn to see him standing there, holding a cooler of blood bags with a closed-mouth grin. 

"You just don't get killed and do whatever the hell else it is you want," he quips, his words breaking the momentary silence in the room.   

“Maybe you can join a boy band, you have the looks for it.”   

Hyunjin gives you a look of disgust, “No. A thousand times, no.”    

“I dunno Hyunjin, she’s got a point, you can sing and dance really well--” 

You gasp, “Hyunjin! You have a voice? And you can dance?”   

Hyunjin's wrists strain against the ropes and chains, the metal links digging into his skin as he tugs against them. "Can we get this over with?!" he demanded, his voice laced with frustration. "It's rare I'm all tied up like this and not having fun."   

You and Felix chuckle at his words, but the amusement is short-lived. You are asking him to revisit parts of himself that he had locked away after his parents died, to confront emotions that he had spent centuries avoiding.   

Hyunjin is a master painter, but he cannot bring himself to confront the emotions he would experience if he danced again. He’s not even sure if he still possessed the voice that once had the power to move an entire room. The memories of his human life were painful, a reminder of everything he had lost. But even if he wanted to return to his former life, he couldn't. He was never going to be human again, even if this foolish attempt at isolating his witch blood were to miraculously give way to something, it would never be human life.   

But why bother with humanity at all? Hyunjin scoffs to himself, trying to silence his emotional mind with logic. Humans lead such short lives, they can’t even comprehend the meaning of it all. It takes centuries before their brains can even begin to grasp the purpose of existence. They waste their precious time worrying about trivial things and tearing themselves down instead of using their voice to educate and inspire others. They live in a narrow-minded bubble, ignorant of the wider world beyond their own.   

Hyunjin doesn’t want to be human, even if he was given the chance.   

“Alright brother, we’ll start from the top and work our way down to get the worst out the way first, alright?” Felix's voice is calm and collected as he outlines the procedure, but there's an underlying tension in the room that's hard to ignore. Hyunjin looks apprehensive, his eyes darting between the two of you as Felix places a wooden spoon between his teeth for him to bite down on. The spoon splinters as Hyunjin clenches his jaw around it, a muffled groan escaping from behind the wooden shards. “Are you ready to start?”   

You take a deep breath as you hold the wand above Hyunjin's face, watching the worry flicker across his features before he nods his consent. As you press the light, his eyes slam shut and his body tenses. You can feel the heat emanating from his skin, and you wonder if he's enduring something akin to the fires of hell. 

Suddenly, the wooden spoon snaps in half, and Hyunjin spits out the pieces with a growl of frustration. Felix motions for you to stop as Hyunjin's breathing slows and his body begins to heal, but you can see the pain etched deep into his features. It's a pain that goes beyond physical, and you wonder how much more he can take.   

Felix picks up an iron poker, his expression grim as he replaces the shattered spoon between Hyunjin's teeth. He had underestimated, foolishly, even he or Chan could snap a wooden cooking spoon with their unnatural strength.   

He nods for you to continue.   

“A-Are you sure?”   

You hesitate, unsure if you can continue with the torture, but Hyunjin's voice breaks through your thoughts. 

"Come on pretty witch, we're just getting started," he says, his words muffled by the metal in his mouth. You admire his bravery and resilience, even if he’s bluffing, and it helps you gather the courage to continue. 

━━━━━━━━    

Santiago leans forward in his chair, studying Chan intently with his hazel eyed gaze. "I am what you would call an archdemon," he finally replies. "But I'm sure you already knew that, given your hybrid abilities." 

Chan nods, his expression unreadable. "I suspected as much. And what is your connection to Minho?" 

"Minho and I go way back. For centuries. We “grew up” together, you could say." Santiago explains, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Chan narrows his eyes slightly. "So then, what do you get out of this if we succeed?" 

"Seriously, Chris?" Santiago says with a chuckle. "I'm sure you don’t want to be in the debt of the Lee family any more than I do.  I owed them, and I’m paying my dues." 

Chan's expression remains guarded, but he doesn't deny Santiago's words. "A man of his word, I respect you for that, if what you say is really true—but I have one more question for you, Santiago." 

Santiago raises an eyebrow. "Yes?" 

"I noticed the way you were looking at my Little Witch earlier. Is there something you want to tell me?" Chan's tone is cool, but there's a hint of warning in his words. 

Santiago's face stays impassive, but his mind races. How much does Chan know? "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he says smoothly. 

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. And I won't tolerate any harm coming to her or our child." 

Santiago's jaw clenches, but he maintains his composure.  Child? She, she was pregnant? Well, she had every right to move on with her life, of course, but to have gotten pregnant by a wolf vampire hybrid? Santiago knew how inexperienced you were with conjure, how did you even get mixed up in all of this? 

Either way, you’d be the last person he wanted to hurt. 

"I would never harm her or her child, or any of your friends, it would bring me no benefit." 

Chan doesn't look convinced. "I’m glad we’re on the same page. Thanks again for your help."  

He stands up from the chair, his lean muscles stretching under his clothes, and a small smile playing on his lips. Despite his reluctance, he knows that working with Santiago is the only way to save everyone, and he can't let his reservations get in the way. 

As he turns to leave, Santiago speaks up, catching his attention. "Chris, can I ask you a question?" 

Chan pauses, intrigued by the sudden change in tone, and turns around expectantly. "Of course," he responds smoothly, his piercing gaze locking onto Santiago's. 

"It is impossible for a vampire to conceive, no?" Santiago asks, his voice low and measured. 

"Yes, it is, for a vampire," Chan confirms, "But a hybrid? It takes a few tries, but then again, that's the fun part, isn't it?" He flashes a suggestive smirk before turning to leave, leaving Santiago to try to rid himself of the mind image of you getting your back blown out by this five foot nothing pretentious hybrid.  He doesn’t want to think about the way your hips swivel in perfect infinite figure 8’s when you’re riding him, he doesn’t want to think about your cries, about how you would beg him for more, only to beg him to stop when you couldn’t take another orgasm. It was no secret that intimacy with a demon was mind-blowing, and he was a master at it. He knew how to use his supernatural abilities to make you feel things you never thought possible, and he was always eager to explore new ways to please you. 

He pushes those thoughts aside. He wasn't the man whose child you were carrying.   

That man was Christopher Bang. 

━━━━━━━━

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ? next part -> click here

[daughter-of-melpomene]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐙𝐀𝐙𝐙𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐍

❝ Anyone residing in Hell could have told you that the demon Zazzadon hated Heaven. Not that anyone else down below was exactly fond of the place, but most Hell-dwellers at most treated Heaven with a sort of vague contempt, the Great War that had resulted in so many fallen angels long enough ago that most demons only responded to mentions of it with an eye roll and a slight sneer. But Zazzadon was different; she loathed Heaven and all its angel residents, practically spit on the ground when anyone brought it up, and had often mentioned over the centuries that she couldn't wait for the upcoming Great War so that she could finally drive a weapon into a certain condescending archangel. No one in Hell knew exactly why she hated Heaven so much more than the rest of them, but it made her one of the most skilled procurers of souls for their Dark Master, so no one really questioned it, either.

That changed somewhat, however, when Zazzadon's friend Crowley sought her help attempting to avert the Armageddon (she couldn’t quite tell you why in the Heaven she’d agreed to that, but it was probably because Crowley was her only real friend in the universe), and she was, for the first time since she’d fallen, forced to work with an angel. She’d been absolutely determined to hate Aziraphale at first, and he didn’t exactly think very highly of her either, but somehow the fussy little book-loving angel to worm his way into Zazzadon’s good graces, and though they certainly wouldn’t call themselves friends, by the time the Apocalypse was firmly in adverted territory and the angel and demon had avoided being executed, they were at the very least friendly.

However, having an angel that she bordered on considering a friend did not change one bit Zazzadon’s boiling hatred of where that angel had come from, and months later, when Crowley reluctantly informed her that the fucking archangel Gabriel was currently residing in Aziraphale’s bookshop with supposedly no memory of who he was, it was all she could do not to storm in there with a stolen hellfire weapon and drive it right down the bastard’s throat. She did, however, eventually get angry enough to storm into the shop ready to let Aziraphale know exactly what she thought of him sheltering someone who’d been only too happy to let him burn in hellfire…

Only to find the only other angel she couldn’t bring herself to hate, the one who was, in a way, responsible for her Fall, the one who she knew for a fact had no memory of her because of the former archangel Aziraphale was harbouring, sitting in one of the shop’s plush armchairs awkwardly holding a cup of tea.

Now it seems Zazzadon is once again caught up in the ventures of her demon friend and angel sort-of friend, unable to find Gabriel anyway, thoroughly annoyed with Aziraphale’s bumbling new human assistant whose face doesn’t seem to stick in her head, and desperately trying to make Muriel remember her, all the while trying to keep up the illusion that she is a loyal servant of Hell who no longer has any association with Crowley while at the same time trying to throw their forces off the scent. It’s a thin tightrope to walk, one that could get her thrown into a tub of holy water or erased from the Book of Life if she trips and falls, and she sort of wants to discorporate both Aziraphale and Crowley for always dragging her into their dangerous undertakings.

But if there’s even a chance she can get Muriel to remember her, to have the being she loves most in the universe look at her the way they used to… maybe the potential of evaporating in a writhing, screaming mess of holy water and demon goo will be worth it. ❞

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @auxiliarydetective, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginevrastilinski-ocs, @luucypevensie, @carmens-garden, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @oneirataxia-girl, @ocappreciationtag.

[sasoxichomoshi]

Ashlesh analysis

Since im the only person in the face of this world that is deranged enough about Nilah to go beyond the mortal realm seeking for answers, i felt i had the responsibility to write this post with as much info as i could

frequently i feel like people dont know how to address or read ashlesh since 1) he's subortinated to nilah (as if he was an accessory, and not an entirely different entity, but i understand why this overlap happens) and 2) it's not like we have a lot of info on him to begin with

or that's i think people like to believe; i mean, yes he has less lore that directly mentions him than fiddlesticks, but i believe that with a bit of reading we can infer a lot from ashlesh, and that's why im here writing this post

1. DUALITY

first i would like to point out something interesting that (so far) just happened with ashlesh: the fact that he has two different titles

for me, it speaks about ashlesh complexity as a character - he resonates in duality, joy under his influence can mean multiple things, his waters cut deep but they also veil against harm, he gives power but takes the soul

i feel like (at some point) ashlesh was closer to humanity (meaning that he helped humans thrive at the same time he fed on them, yk like cattle) than to his siblings - The Ten Kings - and that's why he was granted two titles, he seems to go beyond the "just consume" that we see from fiddle, yes he fed on humans but he understand how to do this

the devil is smarter

this of course is a past that we'll probably never know about ashlesh; if it was once written, the river of fate has likely washed it away long ago

2. AMBITIONS

despite mysterious, ashlesh seems to have a clear and audacious goal: fight the heavens

it's transparent like water that ashlesh harbours resentment towards the celestial realm above and it has a good reason: it was the celestials that trapped him

here's the story

For those who dont know, the new fiddlesticks and zoe got a small connection in lore - in one of the old splasharts, fiddle carries a key, but upon receiving his rework, it was not there anymore

so people started noticing that the key that once belonged to fiddle was now in the hands of a mischievous little (and too powerful) girl

(this lore event is also present in fiddle's biography)

but after all, what this key was for?

Carnivalnites (or Jared Rosen), the main writer behind fiddle rework, rell, viego and nilah, answered it in an old tweet (now deleted) what the key was for

note 1: "beautiful and terrible in its joy", the duality concept strikes again

note 2: by the way it's put and by the way jared talks about the "something else" (that we now know it's ashlesh), it seems that at early stages the demon of joy was meant to be a lesser demon that was under fiddle sphere of influence (this concept is confirmed by the demonology annotation image from noxus that came out with fiddle rework) but with nilah release they have since moved from this concept cause now ashlesh is one of the ten kings alongside fiddlesticks

with all this information we can confirm that ashlesh is deeply tied with targon, or more specific to the celestial realm beyond

celestial beings trapped ashlesh for some unknown reason, possibly the demon was posing some kind of direct threat to them so he had to be locked

...

my personal theory is that ashlesh got kicked from the celestial realm, tried to build up his own "kingdom" below on runeterra, but also got denied this option and the celestials locked him away as a final punishment

"She read of the mad king Viego and his tragic fall, the genesis of the first dragons, and the foundation of the universe in the Kathkan tradition."

how is this possible? cause ashlesh himself is a star that once resided on the celestial realm and upon coming to the world below, he turned into the demon we know

Ashlesha (or Āśleṣā) is the 9th nakshatra (constellation) of the Hindu astrology; it's symbol is the sea serpent and its element is water. The head of the snake (in Hydra constellation) corresponds to the star Āshleshā.

interestingly, fiddlesticks bio also mentions this strange and otherworldly nature

An evil gone from the world for numberless centuries—long enough that the warnings of a nascent humanity passed into rumor, then myth, then legend… until all that remained were simple fables. An entity so utterly alien that it defies almost all contemporary knowledge of magic.

note 3: about the "turning into a demon" part, fiddle's bio is full of "it got turned into" imageries, of men and animals transforming with demonic power, so i dare say that is not impossible for ashlesh turning into a demon;

last, but not least, to make this even joyful (and funnier) i present you all the Star Guardian Version of the story (Jared worked on Another Sky novel for SG 2022 event too, so the thematics overlap)

ashlesh the STAR of joy

remember how fiddlesticks and zoe were (also) related in Another Sky? yup yup

(i feel somehow that zoe also was the key to free ashlesh in this AU too)

with these i finish my thoughts, thank you for those who read it !

[dendrobium-writes]

"Lately, the food has been making people sicker and sicker."

"Well, I suppose that explains the lack of activity. But why do they keep eating it? Surely someone must have noticed." Laurence stepped over a pile of trash and detritus in his path on the sidewalk. The streets were empty. Beyond empty, really. It was a profound lifelessness. "Do you think they would be if they had a choice? This place is remote. Out there. You saw the condition of the train station, too. No food's coming in that way." The condition of the station. Howard said it like it was normal. It was their first stop when arriving into town, taking a detour off the footpath they had been following. Train cars floated above the tracks, which themselves seemed to be folded and coiled like string in the hands of a child.

A thick fog permeated the small town, ripe with the smell of low tide. "And the harbour?" Laurence added. "What harbor?" Howard tersely answered. "There hasn't been a ship here since the mid 1800s. The bay just isn't safe."

Isn't safe? What could that mean? The waters weren't particularly violent. This wasn't a very stormy area, either. Laurence's knowledge of the locale was admittedly limited, but that didn't quite add up.

"The only place the food comes from here is a farm to the west. Less than a mile outside of town." Howard chirped. "How do you know so much about this place?" Laurence's curiosity got the better of him. "Are you from around here?"

Howard scoffed. "Do I look like I'm from here?"

"I don't know what you look like. Up until now you've been a voice in my head. A voice with an American accent." "Right. Well.. I'm sure we'll meet face to face soon enough." "So you're a person, then?" "Of course I'm a person, the hell else would I be?" Howard's tone grew defensive at that.

"I don't know. A delusion? A vengeful spirit? A demon possessing me?" "Laurence, you wound me. You know I'd never lead you astray." Its tone was almost playful. "No, I don't." "Well... I haven't yet."

[undyingimbecile]

Demon Slayer: Next Generation

In an alternate universe, where Muzan escaped before sunlight hit, some Hashira survived but ehere incapable of fighting, leading to themselves becoming trainers, while the young demon slayers became the new generation of Hashira.

But this story begins when another generation of Hashira is on the rise.

____

| | CAST | |

“Muzan Kibutsuji! No matter where you go, you're not getting away! I'll follow you to the ends of Hell, and I swear I'll slice your head with my blade! I'll never forgive you no matter what!”

- Kamado Tanjirou, Sun Hashira.

“Thank you, rest well.”

- Kamado Nezuko.

“Hiding won't make the sadness go away.”

- Agatsuma Zenitsu, Thunder Hashira.

“We’re comrades…And like brothers. So if someone starts to stray from the path, we all stop him. No matter how hard or painful it is, we walk the right path.”

- Hashibira Inosuke, Beast Hashira.

“Somehow I feel the people I care for and those important to me will still be alive tomorrow. But that's just my hope and there's no way I can promise that with any certainty. Why do people... believe such things?”

- Tsuyuri Kanao, Flower Hashira.

“Don't you dare. You never looked at me twice before I was like this, before I was broken. Now I'm just something for you to fix.”

- Shinazugawa Genya, Half-Demon Hashira.

“Compared to you guys, I'm not so important, so thanks aren't necessary. I survived selection due to pure luck. Since then I've been afraid to fight, so I'm a coward.”

- Kanzaki Aoi, Butterfly Mansions Main Nurse.

“We've been together since final selection,”

- Ikoma Murata, Water Hashira.

“Feel the rage, the powerful, pure rage of not being able to forgive will become your unswerving drive to take action.”

- Tomioka Giyuu, Former Water Hashira.

“Listen Up. I Am A God.”

- Uzui Tengen, Former Sound Hashira.

“If I may, Master...”

- Shinazugawa Sanemi, Former Wind Hashira.

“Death Awaits you. Muzan Kibutsuji.”

- Ubuyashiki Kiriya, Oyakata-Sama, Demon Slayer Corps Leader.

“The brighter the light, the deeper the shadow”

- Hoshizura Ankoku, Breath of Shadow.

“The seven virtues, chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, kindness, patience, and humility. I will free you of your sins, embrace the light.”

- Hikari Misato, Breath Of Virtues.

“The seven virtues my ass, more like the seven sins, Wrath, Greed, Sloth, Pride, Lust, Envy, and Gluttony. Suck it. Bitch.”

- Kage Inei, Breath of Sin.

“Beware the sweet melodies of the sirens; their beauty conceals their deadly nature.”

- Umihama Kei, Breath of Siren.

“Keep your face to the sun and you will never see the shadows that lie behind you.”

- Taiyo Etsu, Breath of Sun, Tanjiro Tsuguko.

“Love is the flower that you've got to let grow, and take time to be a butterfly”

- Hanabusa Cho, Breath of Insect and Hanabusa Akane, Breath of Flower, Kanao Tsugukos.

“If a man knows what harbour he seeks, then any wind is the right wind.”

- Igarashi Kuuki, Breath of Wind.

“The more brilliant the lightning, the more quicker it disappears.”

- Isoarashi Rai, Breath of Thunder, Zenitsu Tsuguko.

“I will protect my brother and sister, no matter what it takes.”

- Hirata Toshie, Breath of Reflection. Sister of Hirata Hayami and Hirata Asami, who both were turned into demons.

____

Main Character: Hirata Toshie

Breath Style: Breath of Reflection

[whumpshaped]

lore: falling

angels who break the rules one too many times or too severely are thrust out of heaven as a final punishment. after that, they're called the fallen (in heaven) or fallen angels (in hell) though most demons still just call them angels. heaven is adamant that the fallen are not angels. that a "fallen angel" can't exist by definition. you're either an angel up in heaven or you've fallen and lost your right to be one.

the fallen lose many privileges of angel life, like immortality, magic, wings, not having to sleep/eat/drink, structure, and protection from anything that might want to hurt them (other than of course... other angels). falling is an important last resort punishment that ensures heaven stays strict and orderly. having the demons hell do the torturing part is really convenient for both parties.

so fallen angels lose their immortality, and they become just as mortal as humans. if an angel isn't discovered upon impact, they'll either die of their injuries or thirst. half the angels who get discovered get eaten because they're unwilling to become bonded to a demon, and the other half get bonded and gain new immortality.

the fallen are unable to perform any magic, including flying. their wings either fall off during their own fall, or shortly after. they're also not holy anymore, so they can be freely touched by demons.

they experience true exhaustion, hunger, and thirst for the very first time in their life. to live a comfortable life, they should sleep enough and avoid starvation or dehydration. unfortunately, most angels don't have the tools for that. they're kept locked up by demons, and their new immortality prevents them from dying of the very inconvenient and painful symptoms that come with these things. most only ever receive the blood of their owner as sustenance, and only to avoid withdrawal and death. no water, no food. if any food, they usually receive raw demon meat that makes them sick a lot but at least fills the belly.

overheating is also common. demons usually counter that when they rip all those layers of clothes off, though not as a kindness usually. especially since fallen angels are normally fiercely protective of their garments that offer a last reminder and memory of heaven.

structure is very important to all angels. upon falling, they lose all that. they don't know what to do with their new free will. this lack of rules and superiors is what makes them so vulnerable to bonding, and why demons can easily make them obey once the angel basically pledges their loyalty/makes a deal (not as strong as a devil's deal but it's pretty good) <- when angels say they're willing to drink the blood to avoid death for example, that's considered a sort of pact. still, the unpredictability ruins them within days, they get restless, paranoid, anxious, all that. not a fun time.

speaking of paranoia, most fallen are incredibly paranoid. they're afraid of being watched, listened to, afraid of their thoughts being heard, afraid of the angels from heaven coming back for them to hurt them even more. they try their best to stay virtuous usually, because they still think they'll be corrected for sinning, but in reality, heaven doesn't care about the fallen anymore.

but also, though it's not a huge consolation prize, the fallen gain the ability to lie. they can also start harbouring new emotions like anger, jealousy, lust, things they've never felt before. it's all a very confusing new world for the fallen, with emotions and sensations they've never felt before, and without any protection from monsters who want to drain them dry. they're gullible and naive like children.

~

taglist: @the-scrapegoat @heavenly-whumper @whumpsday @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @bloodinkandashes