#i pulled up a fucking elvish translator

[vixstarria]

Communication

Surprise surprise, they're no good at it.

This is a continuation of my in-game bardlock series, seeing as I left a large gap in it between an intimate and emotional scene and a whole bunch of unhinged fucking. Sorry about that.

Takes place after Intimacy but can be read as a stand-alone!

Read on AO3

Astarion x named f!Tav

Early Act 3. It has been nice, but it's time they actually figured out what it is they're doing and what comes next.

Hurt/comfort, some fluff and a drop of humour (I am me after all) if you squint, love, angst

TW: some very casual violence and murder

Approximately 3.9k words. 

“Well?” A very giddy Astarion had appeared behind Asmodea. “Let’s go!” 

The party had finally reached the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate and were setting up camp near Rivington, after a brief excursion in the area. 

“Go where?” she asked.

“Anywhere! I haven’t seen these streets in sunlight in two centuries.” 

“Now..?”

The city was flooded with refugees. Some child whose mother was definitely not coming for her had seemingly declared herself adopted by the group. There was a towering pile of corpses just outside one of the nearby gates. A circus was in town.

It was nice to finally be back in civilisation.

“Yes, now! Forget the bloody tent, maybe we’ll find an inn to sleep in for a change.”

Nothing had been arranged, set up or planned yet. They had only the vaguest notion of where they were going.

“Sure, a walk sounds lovely right now,” shrugged Asmodea.

It very quickly became obvious that finding an inn would be nigh on impossible. The streets were crowded with refugees, frantic citizens and all those who would either try to keep them in order or prey upon them.

“Are we going anywhere in particular, or are we just... going?” Asmodea asked, trying to make her way through the throng. She had never seen Baldur’s Gate this busy before. 

“There is something I’d like to show you,” answered Astarion. “Some place, to be exact. It’s- hey!”

He realised that he was talking to no one, as they had been separated by a group of dwarves pushing their way through between them. Asmodea smiled at him over their heads, raising her arms in an open-palmed gesture of defeat and resignation.

“Can’t you keep up?” Astarion sighed, rolling his eyes, and reached for her, taking her hand and linking his fingers through hers.

This… This was new, particularly in public, and Asmodea bit her lip, fighting not to smile, as he guided her after him. 

Astarion glanced back over his shoulder at her, to see her grinning. 

“Oh shut up,” he huffed, before spilling into a smile too, despite himself, and drawing her close to kiss her.

“Half-elven whore,” a nearby elven woman muttered to her companion in elvish, tsking in distaste at the sight. Either she did not expect to be heard or understood, or simply did not care.

Astarion turned towards the woman, with a glower, but before he could retaliate with his own snide remark, Asmodea told the elven woman to go fuck herself with a splintered broom, in perfect elvish, and pulled Astarion further down the street before the woman thought of anything else to say.

“Such... delightful use of the True Tongue, dear.” Astarion seemed in equal parts impressed and taken aback. “Don't tell me you’ve been holding out on me this whole time..?”

“Oh, no, I only know a little bit,” laughed Asmodea. 

“Do indulge me.” 

“No, it’s really hardly anything,” she shook her head. “I can count, exchange pleasantries and profanities, know a few songs I can’t translate, and a few odd phrases.” 

“Such as?” 

“I can scream for help in elvish, for one,” she offered. 

“Why would you need to scream for help in elvish..?” 

“Men are more likely to come running if they think it’s a little elven maiden they’re rescuing,” she explained with a sigh. 

Astarion mulled that over with a frown for a bit. 

“I’ll have to take your word for that... What else? And for hells’ sake, just say something, I enjoyed hearing it.” 

She said the first phrase that came to mind.  

Astarion stopped dead in his tracks, with what Asmodea knew to be the expression he held when he was doing his best to keep his face straight.  

“So let’s start with what you think you just said.” 

“...Shit. ...Uhh.” Asmodea gave Astarion a sheepish look. “‘My small children have had nothing to eat for days.’?” 

“Darling,” he said, cupping her cheeks, trying not to laugh. “My love. That’s not quite it... Now, how many people do you think you’ve told you’ve ‘eaten nothing but small children for days’..?” 

“Ah... That explains the reactions,” Asmodea said thoughtfully. 

“Horror?” Astarion finally snickered.

“Usually laughter... I just figured most elves were assholes.” 

Eventually Astarion brought them onto a rooftop that offered an impressive view of the city and surrounding regions.

“It’s so strange to be here in daylight,” he murmured. “This was one of my spots,” he said, turning to Asmodea. “I used to come here at the start of my evenings, alone, and just… enjoy the peace and quiet for a while.” Astarion took a pensive look around. “Admittedly, the tiles weren’t as hot at night, and all the bird shit wasn’t as prominent.” 

They found a place to sit down.

“I thought you would try to get your job done as quickly as possible,” said Asmodea.

“There had to be a certain balance to it.” Astarion shook his head. “Start prowling too early, and the potential targets wouldn’t be ripe for the picking yet. And even if I managed to get someone back to the manor early on in the evening, it would only mean I would have to ‘entertain’ them longer.” He shut his eyes and leaned back against a chimney. “It was better to take some precious solitary repose, when I could.”

“Do you think you might have taken me back to Cazador if you’d met me back then?” Asmodea asked quietly.

Astarion opened his eyes and frowned at the sudden question. 

“Not if I’d ever seen you perform, no,” he deliberated. “I never went for the bards. They were almost my co-conspirators, though they didn’t know it. I couldn’t waste them.” He paused before continuing. “But otherwise, if I’d just bumped into you at a Tavern… Probably, yes. A pretty, reckless stray… You would have been perfect. …Would you have followed?” He asked, glancing at her.

“Probably,” she replied, staring off into the distance.

They sat in silence until Astarion broke it with a question.

“Will you stay with me when all this is over?” 

Just the sheer amount of effort he put into trying to make that question sound casual spoke volumes. 

It caught her off guard. They’d spent many evenings in his tent lazily basking in vague fantasies about an ‘after’, usually concentrating on the idea of being able to stay in bed all day, or the concept of their hair and fingernails being free of dried blood and entrails for a change. They’d never actually discussed any realistic nuance of this ‘after’. Or what it might look like, other than what it wouldn’t look like. 

“Are you certain you want to take Cazador’s place in the ritual..?” she asked, carefully. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” Astarion immediately sounded defensive. 

“You don’t even know what it entails or means, not really...” 

“It means having everything I’ve been missing the past two centuries, what else is there to know?” He scoffed. “...You haven’t answered my question,” he said after a pause. 

She said nothing for a while, looking down at her fingernails. 

“Stay and do what..?” 

“Anything!” he exclaimed. “Anything you want. We could do anything. Do you have any idea what I will be capable of? Of the power I will hold. The influence.”

“Yes, yes, legions of wolves, turning into mist,” she recited. “What else… Commanding ghouls, I think?” She threw her head back, looking at the sky. “I’m not sure why you would need to do any of that, though.”

“Unimaginable power, and you mock it…” Astarion said indignantly. “I suppose you would rather go frolic in the woods with Halsin..? …Oh don’t look so shocked, I’ve seen how he looks at you. Sleeping in the dirt, living off the land. Is that what would make you happy?” 

“He looks at you the same way! And must you jump to extremes?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Even if I were interested in Halsin, there is ample space between sleeping in the dirt and sleeping in that gothic monstrosity, in which I might find myself happy.” 

They sat in silence for a while. 

“I don’t think you should go through with it,” she said, finally. “Something about it just doesn’t sit right.” 

Astarion looked at her with an unreadable expression and didn’t say anything. She continued. 

“I know enough stories - and before you roll your eyes at me, there is usually a grain of truth to them – and I’ve read between the lines of enough history texts, to know there is no such thing as a jolly vampire lord that just has a grand ol’ time carousing in their castle. It’s always centred on cruelty, misery and violence.” 

“I suppose you know plenty of stories of jolly vampire spawn,” he spat. 

“Some, as a matter of fact. They usually revolve around romance and redemption.” She sighed and continued, as he let out a bitter laugh. “I’ve never heard of any demonic deals that ended in anything that wasn’t disastrous, either. The point is, nothing that involves blood or soul sacrifice has ever made anyone happy.” She looked in the direction of Cazador’s palace. “We should kill Cazador, burn it all to the ground and dance on the ashes. I will be by your side. And yes, I want to stay with you. Of course I do.” 

“For how long?” Astarion asked quietly, after a pause. 

“...What?” 

“How long will you stay by my side? You have another... 100 years, 150 at best? I can’t offer any solutions to that as a spawn.” 

She blinked, realisation dawning in her eyes.

“...Astarion Ancunin, did you just say you want to spend the rest of eternity with me?” 

“Oh don’t you bloody dare turn this into a joke,” he bristled. “Just for once.”

“Not a joke, but…” She paused and gave her head a brisk shake, as if to snap herself out of a daze. “Just so we’re absolutely clear, what are you saying?”

“Isn’t it obvious..?” The grin that had crept habitually onto Astarion’s face felt like a suffocating mask. She only stared back into his eyes, unblinking, waiting for him to continue. “I could turn you. Grant you an eternity.” ‘With me’, he wanted to add, but the look in her eyes made the words die on his tongue.

None of this was going the way Astarion had expected. Not that he had planned any of this… Still, he’d made certain assumptions. He’d anticipated the conversation and day would flow somewhere along the following lines: re-affirm his plans for Cazador. Exchange words of undying love and devotion. Maybe, maybe make love to her again, later, in celebration. Instead everything was slipping like fine sand through his fingers. Words simply wouldn’t come out of his mouth. Everything he thought he might say suddenly felt pathetic.

“Turn me? To become one of your spawn?” Astarion opened his mouth to speak, but she talked over him. “Two centuries as something you say is less than a slave, a puppet, and you would so easily offer the same fate to me..?”

“First of all,” he sputtered, “I don’t know why you immediately assumed there would be others. Secondly,” he continued, slowing down, “there is another way, or so I’ve read. You wouldn’t be a mere spawn, but a-” Astarion winced, cutting himself off. “Never mind,” he said, shaking his head. This was rapidly spinning further and further out of his control. “I thought you trusted me?” he asked instead.

“It’s not about trust,” she said. “If you had the choice between a hundred years of absolute freedom or being enthralled to someone for eternity - doesn’t matter who - me, Gale, your long-lost grandmother, anyone! What would you choose?”

“I would never compel you,” said Astarion, his voice tinged with a hint of pleading.

“That’s not the point,” she said, looking away, running her hand through and tugging at her hair. “Let’s just head back. We still need to set up before it gets dark, and I promised Karlach we would visit that bloody circus…”

Something inside Astarion shattered and spilled, ice-cold, over his heart as she got up and walked away. 

Not even an hour had passed since some of the happiest moments he’s had in centuries.

They walked back in silence. 

Eventually they came upon an outpost of Flaming Fists and steel watchers, who had appeared on the road they had taken into the city. They were apprehending everyone trying to pass through, whether they were leaving or entering. 

“Let’s try a side street,” offered Astarion. 

They found and made their way through a narrow alleyway. It was empty. Suspiciously empty, in fact - no children running through, no one out for a quick smoke, no drunks pissing on the walls.

Sure enough, once they were halfway through, three goons intercepted their way, stepping out of a doorway. Two humans and an enormous half-orc wide enough to block out most of the passage. 

“Alley toll.” One of the thugs flashed a malicious grin, eyeing Asmodea up and down. “Better pay up, doll.” Three more jeering hoodlums appeared behind them as he spoke, armed with crude but lethal weapons. 

“Attempting to detain a Council battlemage on duty? Bold but stupid,” she said gravely. “Hand over your profits and Lord Gortash won’t learn of your little enterprise. This is your only warning.” 

Trying to bluff and deceive her way through, per usual. Was there even a Council anymore? Did it employ mages? No matter. Whether due to the fact that she and Astarion had decided to wander the streets of the city in civilian clothes, without armour, or simply because the lust for money and violence had gotten the better of the would-be muggers, they paid her attempt no heed. 

The leader laughed.

“Or, how about we have some fun with you, and your Lord Gortash can come and collect your body from the river once we’re done with it?”

Astarion’s blood boiled.

He reached for his daggers, thoughts racing. Why in the hells had they come here barely armed..? They were surrounded, but perhaps if she blasted the three in front of them they might run through..? But they were probably too close for that… Could she misty step behind them and get away? His undead body would most likely survive whatever came, even with the tadpole. 

“Take the ones behind,” Asmodea snapped, and Astarion followed her lead, as he had grown used to, silently praying to no particular deity that she knew what she was doing. 

He ducked as one of the goons bellowed and swung a sword at him, dodging the blow to come up next to his attacker, burying a dagger between his ribs and another in his guts, for good measure. At least the alley was too narrow for all of the bandits to come in on them at once. Behind him, Asmodea spat some incantation that he wasn’t familiar with.

The next lout came at him, only to stop short, as Astarion scrounged up his meagre magical abilities to hurl a firebolt at his face, making the man yelp and grind to a halt in shock and pain. Astarion’s dagger followed through his eye socket shortly thereafter. 

The entire altercation with the two thugs took mere seconds. Another controlled shout from Asmodea followed behind him.

The last of the muggers on Astarion’s side backed away, looking at the scene unfolding behind Astarion with a horrified expression, before breaking into a run and disappearing. 

Astarion turned back to witness Asmodea standing with her arms crossed, looking unaffected, just as the half-orc who had been behind the group’s leader pulled his sword back out from the leader’s stomach, having impaled him from behind.

Asmodea barked another command as the leader collapsed, and the half-orc slammed the head of his other cohort, who hadn’t understood what was happening yet, against a wall, with a resounding crunch. 

A domination spell. 

Astarion felt nauseous. If his body had been capable of producing bile, it would have crept up at the back of his throat. For once, the smell of freshly spilled blood all around them was repulsive to him.

 “Kneel,” Asmodea commanded, calmly. The half-orc’s body immediately dropped to its knees, with a thud that spoke of damaged kneecaps.

“I’m running out of time. Do you need him?” She stepped over the body of the group’s dying ex-leader and walked around the half-orc, to stand behind him. 

Disgust and revulsion continued to claw at Astarion’s insides. 

“…What?”

The half-orc’s eyes were void of any emotion. A small mercy.

“Blood. Do you want his blood, before I spill it?” she said nonchalantly.

“…No,” he swallowed. Not like this…

He watched as she slit his throat, carefully standing behind him to avoid blood spraying over herself. Comprehension returned to the man’s eyes just as he made his last gurgling sounds, before stilling forever. 

“That was despicable,” Astarion hissed, finally breaking his gaze away from the body. “Compulsion? Really?!”

She gave him an incredulous look, momentarily speechless.

“This is what I do!” she exclaimed. “This is how I protect myself. You know this! What the fuck did you expect - that I would set off a fireball in an alley?! Or make one of them have a fit of giggles?!”

“You didn’t need to do anything, I could have handled all of them,” he countered.

“Oh, stand behind you like a meek little lamb?” She scoffed. “While neither of us are even wearing armour, and they’re on both sides? Don’t be ridiculous.” She crouched to wipe her dagger on the dead man’s clothes. “What does it matter, anyway,” she said, offhanded. “Dead is dead - who cares how they got there?” 

“It was just like Cazador all over again,” Astarion said, bitterly. “Watching my siblings torture each other, for his amusement, waiting for it to be my turn to be compelled.”

She stilled as she crouched, not looking up at him. 

“You fucking hypocrite,” she said, finally, rising. 

“What in the hells are you talking about?” he grimaced.

“Comparing me to Cazador, when you’re planning to take his very place.”

“How dare you?” Astarion felt the last of his composure leaving him. “I am nothing like Cazador, and I never will be,” he growled.

“No?” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re already thinking of your own spawn. Maybe you would keep your word and not compel me, but you would be curious. All that power that you’ve been wishing was yours for 200 years...” She gesticulated, tilting her head. “First just one teensy little slave - someone who’s wronged you, maybe, someone who deserves to bear your ire. Then, perhaps someone convenient, in a place of power. Someone like what you would have been, had Cazador not botched your death so bad that it became public. Then another. And another. And what will you do with them once you have them? Take them for midnight picnics and host slumber parties?” 

She spat on the ground. 

“I’m going back to camp.”

She stormed off, fuming, exiting the alleyway and mixing into the crowd. Astarion followed at a distance, discreetly wiping the blood that had landed on his hands on the shirt of a random passerby that stumbled out in front of him. He gritted his teeth, watching her.

It had taken every last bit of his self-control to not snap back at her during her little tirade. 

He wanted to stalk off in the opposite direction, but frankly all his things were at the campsite, and he still needed the group’s help, both with Cazador and the tadpole. And he couldn’t discount something else happening to her on the way back. 

No, none of this was what he thought would end up happening today. Was this the end..?

It didn’t matter, he thought. Let her be stubborn. Let her accuse him of gods know what. He would do what he had set out to do. Hells, even if she changed her mind later - it would be too late. Let her live out her “hundred years of freedom” in regret.

And how fucking dare she?! Insinuating that he was or could ever be anything like Cazador. After all he had given her. His trust. His love. He didn’t have anything else. Not as a spawn, anyway.

But perhaps she would change her mind, after she gave his proposal more thought..? He could talk her into it, couldn’t he? He’s talked so many people into doing exactly what he wanted them to do…

There was no point in anything otherwise. It was all for her. All he wanted for himself was revenge. Freedom. Safety. But all the power in the world was meaningless if he couldn’t share it with her.

Astarion winced at the thought, hating that it even crossed his mind. If only he could claw it out of his brain and smash it against the cobbles beneath his feet. How much simpler life would be.

He would not grovel. He would not apologise. He would not change his mind. And he would rather die, again, than be caught running after her like a dog. 

Astarion cursed, slipped into the shadows and turned invisible, breaking into a sprint. He wouldn’t be able to replicate the trick for a while now, if the need arose, but he couldn’t care less. 

He raced up sets of stairs, speeding through a terrace, dodging the patrons of whatever establishment it was he was going through, and leaped, unseen, onto the next building’s, until he was ahead of her, descending back onto the ground and losing his invisibility around the corner from the main street, stepping out just in front of her. 

He caught a glimpse of her scowling and furiously blinking away tears just before she crashed into his chest with a light gasp, as he wrapped his arms around her. She was stiff and rigid, but at least she didn’t try to push him away. Still, a part of him was screaming that it was already too late.

“I don’t want you to have to commit those atrocities when you’re with me,” Astarion murmured into her hair, holding her close.

“You’d rather commit them yourself?” she retorted, her voice weak.

“I don’t want to,” he said quietly, as she seemed to become more malleable, and sank into his embrace, slowly wrapping her own arms around his back. “But I will if I have to. For you.”

“That makes two of us, I guess,” she managed, sounding choked up. 

Astarion took a deep breath, relieved. Mine… Still mine… He thought to himself, touching his forehead against hers and stroking her cheek. Someone in the street heckled them, yelling something about getting a room.

“I already don’t have much to offer, beyond all my burdens,” he whispered. She looked up at him, eyes glistening. She tried to protest, but he pressed a finger to her lips. “I want to do what I can, for you. For us. What good am I if I can’t even keep you safe?”

He pressed his lips against her forehead as she hugged him tighter. He had no idea whether he had convinced her of anything, or if she simply didn’t have the will to argue anymore, but for now it didn’t matter.

“I will love you no matter what,” she breathed.

Another jeer followed from the crowd, and someone cursed at them to get out of the way.

“A legion of wolves sounds tempting right about now,” she added, as he smiled.

“Do you still want to get Karlach and go to that circus?” he asked.

“Fuck the circus,” she mumbled into his shirt. “But I guess we should.”

They made their way back to the camp, fingers interlocked again. The silence that stretched once more almost felt comfortable this time.

~~~~~

Thanks for reading!

This is the last in-game part of the series for now (aside from some smut - see below). If you want to continue reading about my Tav and Astarion, go ahead and check out Bloodbang Chronicles which takes place 5 years after the end of the game.

Series master list

Next in in-game series - A night at the inn (branches off into smut)

AO3

~~~~~

Tag list:

@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny

@spunky-89 @acourtofpenandpaper @yoonshope @lariatbunny @whiskeyskin

@asterordinary @wingsy-keeper-of-songs @spacebarbarianweird @brabblesblog @littlejuicebox

@icybluepenguin @snowfolly @ayselluna @mj-bites @bardic-inspo

[stars-n-spice]

Crosshair + his crush on Aragorn Pt. 3

A bunch of comics that are a continuation of this comic about Crosshair finding out about LOTR for the first time with Tech, Echo, and Omega.

Because I love projecting on my favorites and because I think that Crosshair would fall utterly in love with Aragorn because 1) he's got that rugged look about him but 2) he's loyal as FUCK. I mean,, I don't blame him-

Part 1 // Part 2

Anywho, enjoy!

How Crosshair got banned from LOTR Movie Nights:

Movie: He's one of them Rangers...Dangerous folk they are...wandering the wilds. Crosshair: I'd let him wander my "wilds".

(this is pulled directly from something my younger brother said during a rewatch and the Batch's reactions are exactly how my siblings and I all reacted)

To the End - aka the moment Crosshair falls in love

Aragorn: I would have gone with you to the end. To the very fires of Mordor... *LIVE CROSS REACTION: Crosshair, internally: 🎶 Whatta man whattaman what a might good man🎶

This scene gets me all the fucking time. I think about it and cry. That loyalty?? Fucking hot as hell.

"Suggestions" - Sharpshooters Movie Night

Crosshair: You should grow a beard. Tay: ?

Modern AU Tay! Whether or not he has the genes to grow a beard remains to be seen...

Rewind:

Tech: Can you stop rewinding it?! We've seen this scene 15 times! Crosshair: No. Shut the fuck up.

Me too Crosshair, me too. From that day on, Tech refuses to watch LOTR with Crosshair-

Cosplay:

Hunter: Why are you dressed like that? Crosshair: Like what? Hunter: ...nevermind. Wrecker: Looks good!

Crosshair asked Echo to sew it together for him. If you ask him, he's better than Arwen. But that's just his opinion.

Caught Red-Handed:

Crosshair *in Elvish*: Do you like men? Tech: Are you trying to learn ELVISH?! Crosshair: NO!! I'm watching porn! Get out of my room! Tech: We share a room...

no idea how accurate the translation is so don't come for me-

Pastimes:

Crosshair: Did you know Aragorn is canonically 6'6? Tay: No, but did you know I'm 6'6? Crosshair: Shut up, I'm reading.

Crosshair is "borrowing" the book from Tech (he took it without telling him). Tay has competition. The teasing is all in good fun though, Tay doesn't mind competing against Aragon. Crosshair enjoys playing with Tay's hair.

They have a type:

They have a type. What can I say?

Also,, used a picture of my own Aragorn shirt that I have and love for Cross' shirt :)

[sachiko6243]

Let the poor woman come

Summary: some smut, but not too detailed, a surprise visit ;)

Generally this is just some short drabble from my story "The prophecy of the elvish warrior - a Haldir love story" which ccan be found on Wattpad and Ao3 (account name in my tumbler description) have fun with it 😉🥰

Word count: 1164

Warnings: smut, threesome, female orgasm, surprise visit from the elven daddy himself 😉 (but its mostly our blond warriors) Minors DNI !!!

Translation: hûn nin = my heart

I was completely bare between the two men. After our talk with Thranduil, they proceeded to rid me of my clothes and now here I was. Sitting on Haldirs lap, his cock deeply sheathed into my core, my legs spread by his strong thighs. Legolas kneeling in front of me, edging me. I was a quivering mess, sweat and slick sticking to my body, but it didn’t look like either of the elves cared. Haldir had stopped thrusting into me, just relishing my twitching pussy around his cock, leaving it up to Legolas to pull another orgasm from my body.

“So beautiful.” He murmured in my ear. “Do you like Legolas making you cum, meleth?” I let out another strangled moan, when Legolas finger danced over my clit. “Answer us, meleth. Tell us how good we make you feel.” Haldir pressed on, gripping my hips tighter, when I clenched around his cock. “Good!” I whined. “So good…”

A knock on the door interrupted us. “Yes?” Legolas answered, his voice sounding like he didn’t just finger me. To my fearful surprise the door opened and closed again. A light ‘thump’ indicated someone leaned against the wooden frame. Luckily the room we stayed in was rounding a corner, so from where the door was placed, you were unable to see the fireplace and bed. Legolas lips contorted in a devilish smile, when he started to stroke my clit again. From behind Haldir snuck a hand around my mouth to keep me from making a sound.

“I wondered…” My eyes went wide, when I realized it was Thranduil, who was standing there. “… whether it would be possible for you to help me organize a few things regarding the kingdom.” Slowing down his movement, to keep me from cumming, Legolas answered: “Of course, Adar. What exactly needs to be discussed?” The elven king sighted. “Ah just the way we intend to keep our borders safe. The war has strained our armies and as far as I am concerned the spiders did not seem to have gained as many casualties as we did.”

My muffled cry, forced Thranduil to stop mid explanation, but after a few seconds he kept on talking: “As well I want to show my apology by inviting you, Haldir and Visha to Mirkwood. I guess since the three of you are content to make this relationship work, I might as well invite her and the Commander to Mirkwood.”

“See it as done, Adar.” Legolas answered, not letting my face out of his sight. I was now twitching and panting from how close my orgasm was and I wondered why Thranduil didn’t pick on the tension and noises in the room. But my hopes were soon shattered on the ground, when the king spoke again: “Thank you, my son.” I heard him turn around, opening the door. “Ah and another thing. Let the poor woman cum. I am afraid the whole realm is yearning for her release.” Legolas chuckled between my legs, signaling for Haldir to take away his hand. “I will. Don’t worry.” Then, he circled my clit with the uttermost sinful touch, he ever used, pushing me over the edge. Even though I didn’t hear Thranduil leave the room, I couldn’t help myself. A loud moan, ripping from my chest, ringing through the room.

“Thank you.” Was the last thing I heard, before the door fell into its hinges. The sound shuttering through my body, freeing the insanity of what just happened.

“I fucking hate you!” I exclaimed. My breath still irregular. Legolas got up from his knees. “No, you love us.”

“Why did you do this? He is your father!” I asked, feeling something between arousal and embarrassment. “I will never be able to look him in the eye!” This had Legolas smirk again. “He was the one, prying on our intimate life. I guess he got what he wanted. Besides don’t tell me, you didn’t like it. I could see it in your eyes. The fear of being caught just went straight to your filthy little pussy, didn’t it?”

I gasped at his boldness, unsure what to say. He was right. I enjoyed the thrill of it, but I didn’t expect him to be this bold.

“Don’t worry hûn nin*. My father was never one to let people go against his believes and rules. If he really had a problem of engaging us in this situation, he would have waited. You know, elven hearing can be a big asset deciding whether to enter a room or not.” Legolas smiled at me, making his way to the bed, ridding him from the rest of his clothes.

Then he proceeded to take a seat on the broad bed in front of us. “Ride him.” Was all he said, slowly stroking his hard cock in his hand. I was stunned at his sudden change in demeanor. Legolas wasn’t usually the one to overtake Haldir in extruding dominance, but sometimes there were slight glimpses of the princes’ natural power slipping through. “What?” My voice was hoarse and thin of breath. Tilting his head to the side Legolas lips twisted into a cocky smile. “You heard my father. You are to be queen of Mirkwood at my side. Now show your commander what his queen likes. Take him as you please.”

I froze on the spot unsure of what to do. My brain reeling from the change of pace in the room. The newly found power sending butterflies through my stomach. Haldirs warm hand on my back startled me back into reality. I could feel him shuffle underneath me. Sliding towards the edge of the chair and leaning back. “Go on little starlight. Ride me. I am yours to take. Your throne to sit on. Well to be honest I would rather have you use my face as your throne, but this will do for now.”

His words had Legolas chuckle: “You see how eager the Commander is to please his queen? You are a natural.” “Both of you need an ego check.” I grumbled. “You are having way to much fun, teasing me like that and then throw me into cold water.”

Underneath me Haldir leaned forward, his lips brushing over my shoulder. “Would you rather have me rail you on the floor to Legolas feet?” Him growling into my ears, send goosebumps over my whole body and I involuntarily started to shiver.

Desperately trying to gain my stance back, I straightened up, forcing as much power into my voice that I could muster. “No. I am just fine.” Still unsure about what to do, I started to roll my hips in circular motions, as I was not able to do much more, since my feet barely touched the ground. But by the groaning noises coming from Haldir I was doing good. Following Legolas order, I completely focused on my own pleasure, riding my husband in the most sensual and deep way I ever did.

Taglist: gt13tbbart

[fictionkinfessions]

I hate knowing I knew languages that don't exist in this world, or exist only in scraps or as footnotes. Like, Elder Speech and Elven both have, like, dictionaries, albeit small ones, with no grammar notes or anything that I've found (and no, not Tolkien's Elvish, I mean the Elven of the Forgotten Realms, of Faerun, completely different worlds). Infernal? It's mentioned as a language that exists and then it's like "oh since only demons and stuff used it (ignore that tieflings also used it, shhhhhhhh), it can't be written in a way that we can pronounce and all that so like if you just want it for your D&D campaign, just, Idk, pull some Latin or German or something, or gargle with rocks", fuck you, anti-tiefling sentiment apparently exists in this world, too.

I just want to be able to speak the languages I used to know. I guess at least I can learn Enchanted Flowers and be able to sing a song in Elder Speech so that's something. I'm sad. And like, I am learning Na'vi (also for kin reasons) so it's not like this is just me sighing about something I'd never do. I guess I can always memorize the dictionaries and be able to translate words and phrases insofar as they exist, but to bastardize them with English grammar or any other grammar I might pick up from any other language I'm learning feels wrong so I'll never be able to construct my own sentences. It'll always just be a stupid party trick, "oh look at me, I can spout off random words in these languages and sing a song in one of them", all the while I'm mourning what was lost. How fitting, then, that Enchanted Flowers is a song about loss.

x

[agent-oo-z]

Thinking about bg3 but instead of a Durge/Tav it’s my beloved DND 5e pc Narea. Thinking about how she’d interact with all the characters.

Some background info on Narea: Narea is a half elf. Her parents both have the life span of a half elf instead of the respective elf and human ones because her elven parent was a cleric of the elven love deity and begged her to grant their human lover a longer life by taking some of theirs so they would never have to be apart. Her family runs a farm/animal sanctuary thing. She left home to go figure out who she was as an individual. Her companion animal is an African wild dog(which we called a painted wolf in game because Africa doesn’t exist). She’s a chronic NPC adopter but also mega autistic and prone to grudges.

Narea would hate Astarion so much(at least at the start). He’d pull the knife on her and she’d refuse to let it go even after she grows to care about him. She’d learn about Cazador and be like “alright I get that you have ultra mega super trauma but you also need to try and not be a dick all the time. That’s just how things work.” And then they’d kill Cazador and she’d be like “anyways now that you are free would you like to come live on my family farm and help us with night time chores and stuff you can drink as much of my blood as I can handle every day until I die and also we butcher our own livestock and can save that blood for you too or I could just teach you how to raise livestock on your own or how to hunt or-” and just. Ramble at him for hours about the ways her and her family could help him start a new life. Because she still holds her grudge but she’s a giant softie and wants to help people improve and grow and change.

She’d have mixed feelings about Lae’zel. Narea really doesn’t like excessive cruelty/violence so the whole vlaakith cult would make her uncomfortable. But she also recognizes that different cultures prioritize different things and all that. Once she learned about Orpheus tho? Home girl is gonna be chomping at the bit to kill the lich Queen herself.

Kinda a similar situation with Shadowheart. I think the most interesting thing about their early interactions would be seeing if Shart’s fear of wolves extended to her companion painted wolf Cantillë(roughly translates to four toes in elvish because African painted dogs don’t have duclaws and thus are four toed) because like. Shart isn’t afraid of dogs. And in game she isn’t afraid of the ranger’s companion wolf. They’d also bond over half elf things I think. Also Shadowheart would have such an amazing time moving in with an area’s family are you KIDDING ME?! It’s already like the farm/homestead she makes post game if you romance her it has a whole bunch of random animals. Narea’s parents would also welcome Nocturne in so happily. They’d just fully adopt both these poor cult victims and be so proud of them.

Narea and Wyll would bond quickly. Then the Mizora reveal would happen and the only reason Mizora doesn’t die on sight is because it would doom Wyll. Narea would want to kill her as soon as Wyll’s contract is broken. Also once he switches from warlock to ranger? Narea would be so obsessed with him. Giving him all the tips, helping him get gear made to keep his companion wolf Lily safe, helping him memorize edible and medicinal plants and fungi, all the ranger stuff. Cantillë and Lily would have puppy play dates.

Narea would fucking cry over Karlach having to go back to the hells. She’d be constantly checking in with Damon and Wyll and Karlach and doing everything in her power to help solve the engine problem. They’d do so much silly goofy bonding stuff together as well. Narea would dedicate herself to helping Karlach make up for a decade unable to have friends.

Narea would be very cagey with Gale. She doesn’t like people whose ambition goes(mostly) unchecked. As he grows during the plot of the game I think the two would get closer and eventually be friends. When Narea meets Tara tho? Game over. Gale invites her over for tea and her first question is always “will Tara be joining us?” Not because she doesn’t like Gale. She just fucking loves Tara.

Narea and Halsin would be best buddies. She’d see his observation notes about the owl bear and start fucking vibrating. They’d spend all their free time being life science nerds. Talking about animal behavior, plant properties, etc. they’d be such goobers. Honestly the character she’d be most likely to romance if he weren’t so much older than her. She’s like. Half elf equivalent of 25 human years old. Halsin would be more of a mentor/father figure for her realistically but if they were closer in age it would be such a perfect pairing.

Jaheira would be very much a grandma/aunt/mentor figure as well. They’d be besties tho. Like constantly snarking at each other and being catty but in a friendly mutual way where the both know each other’s boundaries and respect them. Jaheira would be invited back to the family home to meet Narea’s parents and they’d have big combined family get togethers every so often to catch up.

Narea would want to put Minsc and Boo in a jar and study them forever. They are so strange and fascinating. She fully believes Boo talks to Minsc and just wants to understand how and why. Nothing invasive/harmful but so many questionnaires and observational studies.

Assuming Minthara didn’t die during the goblin camp fight, and Narea met her at moonrise, she would never be able to fully forgive her but would assist in her breaking free of the cult of the Absolute and becoming less “evil” because that’s who Narea is. She may not ever personally like you or forgive what you did in the past, but she will never try to set you up to fail or sabotage you if you’re willing to genuinely try and improve. They’d never be friends, and if Narea ever learned Minthara was hurting innocents/enslaving people/etc she’d not hesitate to take her down. But she would be perfectly clear about that and give her ample fore warning.

Narea would be suspicious of Withers the entire time. Not necessarily total distrust, just a very heavy sense of apprehension.

Narea would adopt Scratch and the Owlbear cub no questions asked. She’d probably adopt every single cat you meet on the streets of the gate as well. Any creature without a designated home(aside from literal wild animals, the cub is a special case because it was orphaned very young and then just kinda grew up physically but not maturity wise because of a potion) she’s adopting them. Even Us. Maybe not Shovel but Shovel’s her own deal.

Narea would try desperately to convince Mol’s gang not to be involved with thieving/the guild because she has a personal history with organized crime(as a bystander turned random victim) that severely traumatized her. Mol would ignore her and be annoyed. Narea would try and convince them all to come live with her family and get paid for helping raise livestock and stuff.

Narea would probably try and fight Withers over Arabella leaving. She would take more convincing than Arabella most likely.

Narea would totally depose Wulbren and replace him with Barcus. She would love Barcus even tho he’s prickly.

Basically Narea would complete every single NOC quest and try to convince everyone who was involved in Criminal Activities(mainly more concerned about people being hurt as opposed to breaking the law to be clear) to come be employed on her family homestead. Or to at least start their own and raise ducks or something.

Her “to kill” list would be. Pretty long. Gortash, Orin, Kethric, Vlaakith, Shar, Mizora, Zariel, Raphael, Wulbren(if he tries some fuck shit), Cazador, Godey, the Emperor. But not Mystra even though she does not like the goddes.

The Emperor tho? Oh she’d rip his throat out with her bare hands. Finding out she was manipulated and lied to by someone enslaving essentially a POW who killed his best friend, A DRAGON, because his best friend realized he was no longer himself post ceramorphosis? She’s killing him so hard and so much. Probably wanting to curl up and die after learning that her own freedom and survival was only possible because of the enslavement of Orpheus. Might even offer to join the war on Vlaakith to try and make up for her involvement in his enslavement. I don’t think she’d be willing to turn into a kind flayer tho. I think she’d learn about what happened with the Emperor and be terrified she’d become the same if she changed.

Bonus: She technically has a romantic partner from the DND campaign she was in. Assuming he still exists in this alternate universe for her, Astarion would come on to her and she’d be like “sorry mate, I’m already spoken for” and then just. Never mention her boyfriend again because she’s a goober. He’d be with her at the reunion party and everyone would be like “??? Who the fuck is this?” And it would be very funny.

[yellow-the-monster-girl]

It's late at night and Dr. Etta Gray is feeling more productive than ever. The library is quiet, almost eerily, but she's used to it. She glides over to an old typewriter, a sheet of paper still in it. An almost finished work of many nights - but with any luck, tonight it will by done.

---

It's late at night and Cassius Dracula Jr. has just finished preparations for the ritual. He still has to wait for midnight.

He forces himself to take a deep breath to calm a little. It doesn't work. After all, summoning is hard and summoning Shades is among the hardest. The most dangerous. But he needs that scroll translated. There is only one being who knows Old Carcosan and is willing to help a vampire - and she is a Shade.

That's all he knows about her.

Cassius glances at a giant grandfather-clock near the corner. Thirty minutes to midnight.

---

Thirty minutes to midnight, the young scientist is on a roll. It's a good night today, Etta thinks as her fingers ghost over tiny letters, checking for any errors. There are none. There aren't ever any, but Etta, diligent in her work, always checks anyway.

She pulls the paper out and tries to sign it, but when she reaches for the pen, her hand passes through it. She curses under her breath and takes a moment to regain a solid form. A moment of hesitation before she grabs the pen again. She signs herself as Dr. Gray - and exhales, content.

Etta sets a new blank sheet of paper into the typewriter and checks her phone. Five minutes to midnight. The night is still young. Enough time to work on the next project.

---

Five minutes to midnight, the vampire boy is on edge like never before. What if it doesn't work? What if the Shade is evil? What if..?

He stares at the clock, biting his already short nails. What did the book say?

Place offering in the middle of the symbol.

What kind of monster requests caramel latté as an offering for summoning? Who knows? Certainly not Cassius, who swears he will get a new coffee machine tomorrow. With a warm cup of the best latté the old one could muster, he picks up the book again.

Recite spell precisely at midnight.

Five seconds. Four. Three...

---

On her way for her second coffee, Etta is suddenly intangible again. She hates when that happens. At least she wasn't holding the cup yet.

There's a familial tingle in the air. Electricity. But - but the lightst are all off and so is her phone, so what could- Oh no.

She tries as she might to solidify again. Nothing. In fact, she can see the edges of her own body blurring further and further and...

No no no no no!

She wanted to work on that project, dammit!

---

Cassius is prepared. Every possible reaction the Shade could have, he had accounted for. As he recites the spell, something in front of him darkens, until it takes a vaguely humanoid shape and speaks...

"Whoever you are, fuck you."

Every possible reaction, except this one.

"Uhh... Hello? Sorry?" he tries while mentally panicking and searching his brain for something appropriate to say. No reaction from the Shade.

"Did you seriously summon me on a Friday?" she asks with a sigh.

With no face to read, Cassius can't tell if she's mad or just annoyed.

"I, uh, need a scroll translated..."

---

Etta looks around the room, taking in the details. Ugly-as-hell wallpaper. Ritual symbol on the table, one used in summonings. She stifles a laugh - the runes are all butched up. In the center lies an offering - hope it's not blood or organs or such - YES! It's COFFEE! A small victory.

Then there's the man, young and distinctly vampiric.

"I, uh, need a scroll translated..."

His voice is intriguing from a purely scientific standpoint. He must be newly turned or else has kept up with modern slang extremely well. Slight Elvish accent - definitely modern Moon Elvish. He must've lived in Mist Valley for a time-

No! Etta abruptly shuts up her inner linguist. He needs a scroll translated. He actually meant to summon her.

"And you couln't've picked someone not drowning in works-in-progress?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but she won't let him.

"I mean, I'll do it, but - coffee first."

---

The Shade reaches for the cup, but again her fingers pass directly through it. Cassius feels a small knot of worry in his stomach. He tries an apologetic smile.

On one hand, he should be relieved. He'll be getting his translation, after all. But when he watches her struggle with the cup, he feels everything else but relief.

"Um, miss-"

"Doctor," she corrects him with a slight head-tilt. "Dr. Etta Gray."

Cassius only blinks in confusion.

"Sorry - Dr. Gray - I'm Cassius, by the way - I just wanted to ask - do you need help with that?"

He points at the coffee and wonders if this happens to her often. She lets out a sigh.

"It's the electricity. It makes it hard to hold a solid form."

"Sorry?"

Cassius isn't quite sure what to do, switch off the lights and light up... candles or something? As soon as he does, the Shade - no, Dr. Gray - Dr. Gray solidifies into a distinct form - hey, she has a face now!

---

Etta brings the cup to her newly formed lips and takes a sip - it tastes so good.

"Great coffee," she smiles at Cassius, before setting it on the table again. "So where's the scroll?"

Amused, she watches his eyes go wide.

"Oh! Right!"

He runs out of the room and returns with an old, tattered scroll in his left hand.

"Apparently it's supposed to be in Old Carcosan, but like, I don't know."

Old Carcosan?

OLD CARCOSAN?!

"Sit down," Etta commands the young man, barely containing her own excitement. With a grin on her lips she delves into the text. No, her inner linguist won't shut up now.

---

Cassius sits on the couch and listens to Dr. Gray's barely restrained excitement. The poor woman is practically vibrating.

"It's definitely an old variant of Carcosan, though this one seems influenced by one other eldritch language, one spoken primarily on Yhtil - oh, could this scroll be from the era, when The King In Yellow was first written?"

He shrugs. He's slowly growing tired of answering the same I-don't-knows again and again. Tired and bored. Dr. Gray, it seems to him, is the opposite of bored right now.

"Because that would make it older than anything I've ever studied. It would be fantastic, a breakthrough for linguists AND historians. And mages, likely. It would make this one of the oldest spell scrolls ever, which could..."

As Cassius listens to Dr. Gray, it dawns on him that it's going to be a long, long night.

Visual Writing Prompt #461

[this-is-a-podcast-fanblog]

Hello! Lemme just say, I /love/ your writing. For a prompt, and cause I’m soft for hurt/comfort fics, maybe you could toy with the idea of Peter comforting Juno after a nightmare or vice versa?

*ears perk up* person likes my writing??? Oh!!!! *hops up and down* Person?! Likes my writing!???? Oh oh!!! Person likes my writing!!!!!!11!!1!!!

Thanks for the prompt! 

we’re all drinking our Stan Jupeter juice here on tumblr.com huh. 

TW for nightmares. This gets a little intense with the hurt (but comfort follows very soon after!)

~~

“Darling, are you aware that you talk in your sleep?”

“Oh yeah? Well, you snore.” 

“I do not snore.” 

“You do.” 

Over the past few weeks, I’ve gotten used to sharing a bed with another person. I haven’t had anything like this for a while. My last longer-than-a-one-night-stand relationship lasted a grand total of three days, ending right before I got the case with the damn cat. She left when she decided a bedmate who mutters someone else’s name in his sleep wasn’t her type. 

The owner of that name is in bed with me every night now, which just goes to show, I guess. 

He hasn’t left. Yet. 

I’m sure he’ll kick me out at some point. I walked out on him last time before he was able to find out enough about my sleep patterns to get annoyed, but now it’s just a matter of time. He’ll be polite about it, obviously. Gently indicate that it might suit us both better if this weren’t a regular thing. Offer to carry my things back to my room for me. Always be the gentleman.

And that’s the thing - he’s so goddamn gentle. He’s fantastic in bed and for once I don’t mean that in a sexual way. He spoons me, or cuddles with me, or on nights where I want a little more space, he tucks the blanket around me before retreating to his side of the bed; murmurs, “Good night, darling”. In the mornings he wakes me up with forehead kisses and hot coffee made exactly how I like it even though I literally never told him how I like it. 

In the mornings, he looks softer. His hair is messy, and his makeup gone. Sometimes there’s a sloppy line of hickeys trailing down to his collarbone. When I kiss him good morning his face scrunches up in a little smile. 

“Dream anything interesting?” he’ll ask, reaching across the pillow between us to stroke my hair. I never tell him what I dream. 

I haven’t woken him up with my nightmares yet. But I know I’m on borrowed time. 

It’s tonight, and we’re in bed, and I can feel his back pressed against mine, moving slightly up and down as he breathes in sleep. I’m tired after a long day. It’s so peacefully easy to drift off and not care about anything. Until -

I’m having one of those dreams again, where I know I’m dreaming but still can’t snap awake. It’s the blood chair, it’s draining me, and I can hear three voices around me all arguing while my heart races to compensate for all this blood I’m losing - and it’s like I can taste it, hot and thick and salty in my mouth -

I’m falling through dark, open space, until I land with a sudden jolt. I can hear a banging like fists on a solid surface; and I can hear laser bolts, feel my body aching, my eye throbbing - Nureyev screaming and Miasma fighting me - and then I’m falling again, this time through open dark space, frigid on my skin. “Let me wake up,” I gasp. “Please -”

I can feel my eyes freezing and icicles in my hair, numbing me, stabbing me, the stars rushing past me in these terrifying blurs of cold light. It’s like I’ve been sucked out into space, and now the void is drawing me in, it feels so vivid and real - 

-and then it’s over and then something new is starting. I feel absolutely nothing, and I know this means that I’m dead. I can hear everything, all the sounds of a fight, like a bunch of thunder and drums sounding all at once, but I’m away from it, away from everything - I’m gone I’m finished. “Let me wake up, let me wake up, please -”

“Juno!”

I gasp as I feel myself snap awake. My shoulders are held between Peter’s hands where he’s been shaking me. He sighs in relief when he sees my eyes open. “Darling -” He makes a surprised noise when I crumple against him. I burrow into his arms, crying for all I’m worth, shaking like a goddamn child. His arms are tight around me a moment later. He cradles me, whispers, “Shhh, shh,” and runs those slender fingers through my hair. “My love, what is it? Did you have a bad dream?”

“I, I-I-”

“Shhhh.” Peter pulls me onto his lap in a sitting position and kisses the top of my head. “Just nod or shake. Nightmare?”

I nod weakly.

“Alright. Relax, I’ve got you.” I press my face closer to his chest while he keeps caressing my hair, like his heartbeat’s going to keep the inevitable from happening. He knows now. He knows that this is what he’s signing up for by loving me. He knows what a mess I still am. 

I sniffle, drawing out of the embrace. This is kind of awkward since I’m still sitting on his lap. “I’ll just, uh.” I wipe my eyes on my shirt. “I’ll just -”

“Lie down.” 

Although that surprises me, I oblige. He brushes back my hair to kiss my forehead, tells me he’ll be right back, then vanishes. When he returns he has a glass of cold water, a washcloth, and a clean shirt in hand. 

“Drink.” Once I’ve drained the glass, he dabs the sweat from my face, then helps me take my damp shirt off and pulls a new one over my head. It’s too big, and it smells like him. He’s taking care of me. He should be angry that I woke him up with my weeping, but he’s taking care of me. “There. A little better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I hug my arms around my knees. Then I lean over and lie down on my side, so I’m lying across his lap with my head on his thigh. “Play with my hair?”

He runs his fingers over my scalp, tracing, stroking. “Talk to me, darling.”

“I have a lot of repressed trauma.” I shrug, which makes my shoulder bump against his knee. “Most people would be out that door by now.” 

“Not me.” His thumb sweeps in an arc over my forehead. “Sometimes,” he murmurs, “I have nightmares too.”

I turn my head so I can look at him. In the dim light, his eyes still seem to shine. He’s not asking me to leave. Somehow, I don’t think he’s going to.

“Come here.” He guides me up and moves with me so we can get under the covers again; and I snuggle right back into his arms, because I don’t want to be away from him for even a second. “I don’t know what you dreamed about, goddess,” he murmurs to me. I love when he calls me that. “But whatever it is, whatever you have to work through, I’ll be here. Please don’t ever doubt that.”

“I won’t,” I whisper. “And I’m - I’m here too, you know that, right?”

“I’ll never doubt it, dearest.” He kisses me very gently on the bridge of my nose. Right over my scar. Here in his warmth and his arms I can feel myself falling asleep again. “Sleep, Juno, love. Shall I sing to you?”

What did I do in a past life to deserve this guy? “Yeah,” I yawn. “That’d be… nice.”

“Alright. Go back to sleep.” He sings: “Sér- sí, tye are varna

Ni indóme mel tye  

Tenna i elena úr- eth“

I recognize the language, though I’ve only heard him speak it once or twice. Brahmese. On his lips it’s more beautiful that anything I’ve ever heard. 

And his heart beats under my head, and his arms wrap around me like shelter… and I know I’m safe here… and I know he’ll still be here when tomorrow night comes, and every night after for as long as I want him. 

For forever, if we choose. 

[dirtytransmasc]

Languages the Spellman siblings + Spider speak (outside of English / Na'vi)

Klingon

Spanish

Hindi (This is the only one they were purposefully taught, and it was by Max.)

Elvish from LOTR

Welsh (they thought it was kinda funny)

Latin (No one knows how they learned it but suffice to say it's the one that unnerves people the most.)

I also imagine there are just general quirks about each siblings that freak out / amaze the recoms in equal amounts.

Ro'eyk is more or less a science prodigy, none of them understand what he says half the time, but it unnerves the scientists at Bridgehead.

Reyzì can disassemble and reassemble pretty much anything, including weapons (with is terrifying), and they learn that she is responsible for most of the wreckage being stripped bare.

Rävi seems the most normal of the siblings, though his ability to remember every little detail is creepy at times. After an incident where he 'politely' reminded a soldier (who had said something about Spider) of how easy it would be for him to put his fist through his rib cage, the recoms are starting to realize he is just as feral as his siblings, if not more.

god I can only imagine what their arguments are like, especially if they're yelling at other people, cause they're just pulling different phrases and words from different languages, grammar has left the room, half of what they say are just swears. different people can pick up on different bits and pieces, but now one really knows what they're saying.

they basically have a code at this point.

and then because of their diverse skillset, leave them in a lab for a few days, they'll take it apart, put it back together perfectly, and have the entire lay out + any and all information memorized. they are a force to be reckoned with.

This all translates into everyone being fucking terrified of them.

[sillyrabbit81]

Can you do a prompt on on Henry & his other characters when they find out you got a tattoo without them knowing?

Thanks for the ask Anon.

I think this may be my first multi character headcanon. I hope you like it!

Henry:

Henry comes in late, shooting ran overtime again and he was exhausted. “Evening, Sweetheart,” he says as he lays on the lounge, his head in your lap and his feet dangling over the arm rest.

You put on a exaggerated frown and say, “Big day huh?” You dip your hand in his curls, pushing them off his face, noticing again the growing patches of lost hair from the wig he wore. You check his eyes and shake your head, “you’ve really got to stop wearing those contacts for so long.”

Smiling, Henry sighs, “It’s easier to leave them in rather than take them out and put them back in all day.”

Suddenly he grabs your wrist and you flinch, “Ouch.”

“What’s this?” Henry pushes your sleeve back to reveal the raised and sore tattoo on your wrist. He sits up, looking at it intently before staring at you.

“It’s a tattoo,” you say calmly, you couldn’t tell how he felt about it yet.

“I can see that, Sweetheart,” he says with a smile and you let out a sigh, he wasn’t mad. “Is that Elvish?”

“Not all those who wander are lost,” you translate.

With a hum, Henry kissed your wrist just below the tattoo. “I love it,” he says.

Walter Marshall

You hadn’t seen Walter in nearly two weeks. He was busy working a case but he had promised to come over tonight. You had cooked for him, worn the lingerie he liked, you were wanting to reconnect with him, wanting to feel him again. But when he was two hours late, you covered his meal and put it in the fridge, then curled up under a blanket of the sofa and fallen asleep.

You woke up early the next morning in bed, startled to find you weren’t alone. Walter’s arms were around you, your back warmed by his chest. You weren’t sure if you were mad at Walter or relieved that he had made it after all.

“Good morning,” Walter’s voice seemed tired and you wondered how long he had slept for.

“Good morning,” you reply. “When do you have to leave?”

“An hour or so,” Walter says, softly kissing your back. “I see you have a new edition.”

For a moment you don’t know what he is talking about, but then you remember the new tattoo you got, “Oh, yeah. Do you like it?”

Walter made a non-committal noise, and asked, “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I think it’s pretty.”

“That’s all that matters then.” Walter sighed, “How long have you had it?”

“About ten days,” you say, wondering why he would ask you that. You roll over to face him and see the sadness in his eyes. “What’s wrong? You hate it.”

Walter shakes his head, “No, I hate that it took me ten days to find out about it.” He holds you tight and whispers in your ear, “I’m sorry I’m not around very much. I promise I won’t leave it so long next time. Ok?”

You hug Walter back as he starts to kiss your neck and undo your bra. “Ok,” you say softly, not believing it. You know he means it right now, but next time there’s a big investigation, you know he won’t be able to keep that promise.

August Walker

You hear the door open and blood turns to ice.

You had been so confident when you had done it. You were mad at August, furious. You had wanted to provoke him. You told your friend, “Fuck him, he doesn’t tell me what to do.” But now that he was home, you wanted to take it all back.

Taking a deep breath, summoning all your courage you went to greet August. You plastered a smile on your face and ran into his arms crying, “Daddy! I’ve missed you.”

August held you a moment, then let you go. His eyes scrutinised you, “You’ve done something,” he says. You try and not buckle under his gaze. “Tell me now, before I find out later.” He jabs a finger into the soft flesh under your jaw and lifts your chin until you look into his eyes. “And believe me, Petal, I will find out.”

Your chin wobbles and you take a step back. With tears welling in your eyes you reach down and drop your panties to the floor before you lift your skirt.

Raising an eyebrow August says, “Now what on earth made you think it was a good idea to get a tattoo without asking.”

“I thought you’d like it,” you half lie. Yes, you were angry with him when you got it, but you loved him and thought he might take it easy on you when he saw My ❤️ belongs to Daddy tattooed on your mound.

“Your heart isn’t the only thing that belongs to me, is it Petal?” August snarls and takes a step closer to you. “Why didn’t you ask permission?”

You gulp and say, “It’s easier to ask forgiveness than ask for permission.” You know it’s a weak excuse and you know you aren’t going to get away with it.

“Well then,” August says, wiping away the tears that now freely flowed down your cheeks. “Let’s see how beautifully you beg for forgiveness, after your punishment, shall we Petal?”

Captain Syverson

You moan into your fiancé’s mouth as you tear each other’s clothes off. You’ve waited for this moment for nine months and by his ferocity, you can tell that he was as desperate as you were. “I’ve missed you, you Big Furry Ox,” you say as Sy kisses down your neck. He growls as he takes your bra off.

“Fuck me, Sugar Plum,” Sy groans and buries his face into your chest. “I’ve missed these.” You chuckle as he lifts you, still sucking on your breasts and places you on the mattress. “I almost forgot how perfect they are.” He kisses a path down your tummy and you wriggle with anticipation as his mouth pauses over your underwear. “I didn’t forget how good this was, not with that picture I had.” Face heating with desire and embarrassment, you giggle as you remember the night before he left and how he begged you to let him have a picture of your pussy to take with him.

Sy pulls at your underwear and you lift your ass to help. He stops dead, panties half way down your thighs as he sees the tattoo on your hip.

He looks at it blinking several times trying to make sense of what he is seeing. Then he grins, “Is that us?” You prop yourself up on your elbows and look down at the tattoo of a custom drawn cartoon sugar plum skipping along, holding hands with a bull.

“Do you like it?” you ask. You didn’t have to ask, you watch as he traces the design with his finger.

He kisses your tattoo as he pulls your panties off. “It’s perfect. I love you, Sugar Plum,” he says as his mouth moves towards your pussy.

“I love you too, my Big Furry Ox.”

Mike

Mike rolls his eyes. “Ok Sweetcheeks,” he says. “What do you have to show me?”

You turn around and grinning you pull down the top of your jeans.

“Fuck!” Mike cries. You hear him stumble off the sofa and you feel him grab your hips as he holds you still to get a closer look. “Is that real?” You look over your shoulder and see him on his knees, staring at the angel wings tattoo you got on your lower back.

You laugh, “Yeah babe. It’s real.”

Mike chuckles and stands up. You turn to face him with wide eyes he says, “that’s gonna look so hot when we fuck doggy style.”

Tag List 1

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay @stxlemate @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @eldarwen333 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @summersong69 @littlefreya @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @myloveforhenrycavill @mary-ann84 @tellingyouastory @beck07990 @zealoushound @sofiebstar @sweetlybigdragonn @bloodyinspiredfuck @marantha @diegos-butt @greensleeves888 @endofalldays01 @justaboringadult @ysmmsy @offroadinjandals @littlewrenofrivia @pussyverson @foxyjwls007 @kebabgirl67

[unicyclehippo]

for a human week prompt, what about beau getting her monk langauge abilities and related shenanigans/feels?

‘translate it, caleb, quickly!’

‘it—i do not have it prepared as a spell, it will��ten minutes,’ he tells them, words jumbling in his frustration as he draws out his spellbook and slaps it down onto the stone floor, presses his hand to the carven jagged words like splintered elven they recognise from past interactions as being undercommon.

‘let they who enter here be remembered as champion among champions, confronters of death,’ beau says from behind him.

there is a moment of silence, then,

‘what?’

‘that’s what it says,’ she tells them. her eyes are hidden behind the goggles but her fingers trace over the letters.

‘but how—you don’t read undercommon.’

‘oh beau knows magic now!’ nott shrieks. ‘great work, caleb!’

‘what? no,’ beau snaps, flips nott off. ‘i can’t—i still can’t do that,’

‘oh, well, that’s not his fault, you really should dedicate yourself to your study better.’

they do not need to see beau’s eyes to know that she rolls them.

‘wait—if you didn’t cast anything, how do you know what it says? are you guessing?’ jester asks.

caleb, by this point, has finished his spell and it hits, feels almost like a fog settling across his vision that covers the words, pulling the meaning from them to sit atop the letters.

‘no—that is what it says,’ he tells him with a faint hint of surprise. ‘beauregard?’

‘it’s not a big deal or anything. i just learned it.’

‘just. learned it.’

‘yeah. i mean, we were gonna deal with the bright queen for her contracts and stuff and i figured hey, one of us should probably know how to speak their language. literally.’

‘so you just...learned it.’

‘yeah.’

‘just like that?’

‘yeah,’ beau says again, more forcefully. ‘what’s your fucking problem, caleb?’

he blinks, blinks away the fog of the spell, and stands. tucks his book away into its holster. ‘no problem. i am just very impressed. it is hard to learn a language, especially if one is not familiar with the root languages. i am very impressed.’

beau grimaces. takes a few steps back. ‘don’t make it weird dude, it’s not a big deal.’

it may be his imagination, but even so, he imagines she is the smallest bit pleased by the praise.

//

he asks about it later.

‘how long did it take?’

‘huh?’

‘to learn a new language?’

beau squints across at him. her goggles are perched atop her forehead, with the hut giving them a faint light by which to see, so the squint is all suspicion.

‘i dunno. a few weeks, maybe.’

‘that is very—‘

‘if you say impressive again, caleb, i’m gonna knock your block off.’

‘skillful.’

‘same fuckin’ thing,’ she grumbles, but doesn’t move to assault him as she had threatened. ‘it wasn’t that hard. i know elvish and dwarvish so i do know the root languages, actually,’ she tells him, badly mangling his accent as she repeats his words back to him. ‘plus, i mean, it uses a lot of the same phonemes as a lot of other humanoid languages so it’s not nearly as fucked up as deep speech.’

‘DEEP SPEECH?’

[idjitlili]

Imagine Thranduil being your father, and you liking Thorin Oakenshiel.

Thorin x elf reader

Extra information: kili , fili nor Thorin die in the five armies

Warnings: nudity just boobs, uh slight mention to boner city x 2, plus smut indicated, pregnancy. Crude language.

(Ps I am virgin So sorry. But I have seen 12 year olds write some shit , I am 16)

Translations from elvish:

Dôl lín cofn=empty headed

Lýgion= son of snakes

***

It had been a year since the dwarves had been put in the cells of Mirkwood, and then escaped. A certain dwarven king had caught your eye that night , even with his hatred for elves he had looked your way two. You swore you saw his lips twitch up for a second. You had tried to reason with your father to let them go.

You looked at the dwarf with sorrow in your eyes and back you father. You began to speak,

“Ada I’m sure if you let them go you would have more of a chance to ge-“ before you could even finish , Thranduils head snapped towards you with disgust written on his face.

You didn’t look like your brother nor father you had e/c eyes , h/c h/l hair, plus you were female and you didn’t hate dwarfs. Your know was yet to make friends with Gimil.

“Do you not know of the stubbornness of dwarves y/n? They are Dôl lín cofn. Lýgion.” Your father basically spat at you , harshly making you flinch. Thorin noticed , he felt anger towards your father, he would never do that to his kin.

“Ada please. You will not help others reclaim their homes? I think they would be gratefu-“ yet again Thranduil frustration with you cut you off.

“You do not have an right in this matter , what did I tell you about getting involved. Leave.” You father hadn’t been your father since your mother had died. Legolas was more a father to you. Your eyes became glossy at his words, yet you didn’t move.

Frozen in your spot,you decided on whether to stay in Mirkwood or to flee with the dwarves and help them. You would have to say goodbye to your brother.

“Did you not hear me? Y/N LEAVE NOW.” Tears now streaming down your cheeks like a volcano.

Thorin felt sympathy for you, he saw that you really did want to help.

You left the room as fast as you could , to find your brother.

***

You had spotted him near the cells , it was the feast of starlight, your father would come looking for you soon for appearances. You rushed closer to legolas.

“L-legolas.” You sobbed for your older brother.

“Y/n what’s wrong,” he spoke concerned for you pulling you into a tight hug.

“I am leaving, you cannot stop me , I can’t live with Thranduil anymore,” You spoke looking up to him.

“Where are you going to go?”

“I am going help the dwarves escape, I’ll figure the rest out. I love you brother.” You whispered your him, then you let go over him rushing off to the cellar. He whispered I love you too before you left he knew you could look after yourself.

You had retrieved the keys , and met Bilbo one of the dwarves companions, he saw your tear stained face and he felt a desire to trust him.

The two of you rushed to the cells opening Thorin’s cell first. He looked up at you confused,then he noticed Bilbo he smiled. Once you had gotten all the dwarves out of the cells ,you had led them to the cellars ,which Bilbo insisted that you were to get in a barrel too. The other dwarves didn’t question your presence with them , after over hearing your conversation with legolas.

***

After that you stayed with the company which Thorin had allowed , as you shared the same hatred for your father ,he grew close to you. You had saved him and his nephews in the battle of the five armies, in which had led you to receive an injury in your side. Which led you to know.

The orcs were all dead now, you stood on the ice with Thorin , Bilbo , Gandalf AMD the rest of the dwarves. That was until you felt blood dripping from your side , only to look down to see the blood red on your green tunic. You felt suddenly light head , before you knew it you were falling, yet the impact of the ice never struck , instead strong arms carried you bridal style.

You looked up to see Thorin , muttered to you that you were going to be okay, you smiled at him, he began to run towards his home. You look forward to see the doors of it, and you see your father on his elk, with a worried expression on his face.

“Y/n darling , you are coming home with me, I’ll get you to the healers immediately.” He spoke to to u as Thorin approaches quickly.

“Fuck you Thranduil.” You hissed at him, his heart broke at you calling him anything other than Ada . he knew he had to let go , unknowly yet he would lose his relationship with his son too, in minutes.

Thorin had made it to his chambers with you in his arms, Oin came through the door straight after. He placed you in the middle of his bed, which smelt of pine , and earth. His covers made out of furs , and a blue velvet blanket under.

He pulled a chair on the left of the room , to the left of his bed , on the side which you weren’t injured on. He held on to you hand , which you held tightly on it , while

Your shirt was lifted slightly so oin could clean and stitch your wound.

Clenching on Thorins hand you look at his face , even with your elven strength he doesn’t wince , he just smiles. He rubs his thumb on hand your hand comfortingly. You didn’t show your pain , in your face but it did hurt, even with all your piercings that your father didn’t agree with , that you had done with a sewing needle. Thorin had eyes your bellybutton piercing minutes before.(if u don’t have one don’t worry it’s not important)

“If this hurts this much, fuck having kids.” You laughed dryly , as did Oin and Thorin. Thorin lifted your head slightly to help you drink some water Kili had brought. You thanked him.

Soon Oin was done and had wrapped your side with an bandage, you thanked him , he left saying it was no problem. This left you with Thorin, who still held your soft hand in his rough one.

“ uh thank you for saving me.” You spoke turning to the dwarven king.

“Well you saved me and my nephews, I am forever in your debt.” He smiles at you.

“ well you helped me away from my father , so I class that as we are equal.”

“ you deserved to get away from him, I am glad I met you y/n. You have shown me a different perspective on elves.” His cheeks light up, you have never seen him blush before.

“If you want one day , you can take those gems of starlight to your father, even though I hate him for treating you so horrible.” Your eyes light up.

“ does that mean you will let me stay in erebor? And not go home? “ you are shocked by his words.

“This is your home now, forever or short time. It’s your home.” You sit up quickly ignoring the pain ,throwing yourself into Thorin’s arms hugging him tightly.

“Thank you so much, I knew my father was wrong about you.” You spoke into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

“You shouldn’t have gotten up, you could’ve ripped your stitches, I would’ve came to you.” He smiles at you. Thorin was wearing no boots just socks , a blue tunic and trousers, whereas you wore a bloodied green tunic and legs.

“W-will you lay with me then?” You stuttered out, blush arising on your cheeks.

He replies grabbing under your ass, while you held on to his neck, carrying you to the bed again,placing you gently. He goes to walk off , which you frown at, then he turns back to you.

“I am just get you a clean shirt then I’ll be back.” He smiles at you, walking to his dresser pulling out a red tunic , walking back to you, handing it to you.

He doesn’t even get a chance to turn, before you whip off your tunic exposing your breasts before you put the tunic on. You didn’t even care that Thorin saw, he takes the dirty one from you.

“Uh I’ll be back I just need to go use the bathroom.” He holds the tunic infront of his covered cock(aliteration 101) then rushing to the bathroom.

You weren’t stupid you were fully aware at your attentions and it worked. Even if you did feel self conscious about your body, Thorin seemed to like it. You saw the tent in his trousers.

You were in day dream for a while until you felt the bed dip next to you , turning to see Thorin. You look at him innocently, then you shuffle towards him, he pulls you closer. So you are practicing laying on him, he wraps his arms your waist and his head in the crook of his neck.

Thorins tunic was large on you, the v neck very low and large. You turn your head and plant a kiss on his cheek. He then starts attacking your neck with kisses.

“Would you Allow me to court you y/n ?” He asks , stopping kissing your neck.

“Yes, I would.” In response he sits up quickly, pulling you in his lapand starts braiding a part of your hair quickly attaching a courting bead to it. In which you turn and do the same for him.

Once do you look into his eyes, as he looks into yours , his hands on your hips , you cup his cheeks pressing a kiss to his soft lips.

His eyes dart to his tunic he gave to you, widening his eyes ,he coughs “ you know that ,uh your?”

You look down then up him smirking, feeling his again hardened dick ,now against your under thigh. You nod.

“Oh so you did that shirt thing before on purpose?” He smirks at you.

“Yes I did this on purpose too.”

“I didn’t know elves were like this, you are pretty desperate.”

You smash his arm gently , earning a chuckle out of him. “Do you think Thranduil let any of the male species near me apart from my brother?”

“ ooooh so you are a virgin princess.” He smirks harder. You look down at your hands embarrassed. His hand lifts your chin gently to face him, he presses a swift kiss to it.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed by amralime, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want.” He smiles sweetly at you, causing your heart to race and butterflies in your stomach.

“I do want to, Im just nervous.” You face beet red.

“I’ll go slow you can tell me to stop at any point , you are injured so we should wait.” His arm is wrapped around your waist, at this point it is night.

“No please I want to , I’ll be fine. Pleaseeee.” You beg Thorin.

He smirks at you , “ are you absolutely sure ? What about if you end up pregnant. Then you have to suffer child birth.” He recalls what you said earlier.

“I don’t care , fill me with your sperm. Oh my god could you imagine my Adas face.” You bust out laughing at you comment, as does Thorin.

“Well I guess we have some work t out do then.” He chuckles flipping you so you are under him. He rips the tunic you are wearing. To be honest the next day you cannot walk , Thorin has to carry you to the toilet and bathe you, which you aren’t complaining because he does everything you need. Dwarven dicks are very large that’s for sure, you felt as if you was going to spit into two. He made sure your first time was worthwhile, as you had to had wait centuries.

In a few weeks you were declared pregnant, and Thorin had married you immediately, so it was just you two and a couple of witnesses.

Then in a couple of months you invited yours father and Legolas to your home, for dinner.

As Thranduil walked through the doors of the living space , with his son Legolas, he saw you facing away from him. You were wearing a light blue long dress, facing your husband Thorin. You had in your bad ready to give to your father a box with the gems of starlight inside.

“Y/n.” Thranduil said quietly , so happy to see you , after months of being away he regretted treating you so horrible, he missed you dearly.

You turned to face your father and brother slowly, with a huge smile. Thranduil and legolas gasp , Thranduil louder, at your huge stomach. You ignored their shocked faces, pulled them both into a huge embrace, which Legolas happily hugged back , Thranduil slower. You pulled back handing you Ada the box.

He looks at you confused, you gestured for him to open it, which he did. He gasps again. Thorin walks so he’s next to you , not daring to touch you yet.

“See Ada I told you I would get it, well it was Thorins idea.” You smile at Thorin , which he smiles largely back and then you look at your brother and father.

Legolas is squinting his eye at Thorin , knowing what Thorin had down, legolas thought to himself “fucking assbutt “ let’s just say legolas is a Castiel. Thranduil stood still eyeing his dead wife’s’ necklace. “Thank you for returning them to me.”

“Now who knocked you up, my daughter.” He looks at your left hand to see a ring on your wedding finger , legolas follows his fathers gaze.

“ you got married and didn’t invite me? I get Ada but why not me?” Legolas was heartbroken.

“ I didn’t want anyone at the wedding there was only one witness which was Bard because he was visiting at the time. I am sorry but I hate weddings, I just wanted to lay in bed eating mash potatoes.” You gave legolas a smile.

“How long since then?” Thranduil questions you.

“5 months Ada.” He gasps.

“Where is your husband? Then surely he should be with you.” Thranduil spoke annoyed with his daughters husband.

Thorin gently held you hand then spoke “but Thranduil , I am.”

Gasp. What a surprise. “Why am I not surprised you married him? You know what I am not mad, I realised how I treated you before, and I am sorry. As long you are happy.” You now gasp as your Ada and legolas smiles at you and your husband.

You let go of thorins hand and pull thranduil into a tight hug, which he returns and you do the same for your brother.

“Has the baby kicked yet?” Legolas spoke excitedly, you grab his and your fathers hand and place them on your stomach. Your baby do be a kick-boxer. “Wow” Legolas spoke quietly.

“What do you want to call it?”

“Uhhh Francis or river or keanu. Not sure.”

The end.

***

Didn’t know how to end it really.

[timeforelfnonsense]

The Lusty Eladrin Maid (3/3)

Dafni x Astarion || E (very spicy) || Ao3 || Previous Chapter ||  Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series || 

All of Sunshine & Starlight is written as one shoots that can be read alone for the most part but there is a passing reference to The Bargain in this one. It’s not necessary to read it before but it might clear some things up!

Italicized quotes are implied elvish Translations (via Candle Keep) & Lore: Veluthe - Beautiful Arael’sha - Heart-Friend (term of endearment) Lore on elves  (just the basics) 

Marsember - the City of Spices, a metropolis and the busiest port  in the entire kingdom of Cormyr.

Dafni’s breath hitched as Astarion hulled her by the waist, pressing her snugly to his own body. His hips rocking gently against her own. Dafni was able to wiggle her hand between them, with a bit of fumbling, Dafni worked the buttons of his breech falls free. She gave him a light caress, her thumb teasing its way along the underside of his shaft. Dafni felt him twitch in her palm, a proud grin tweaked at her lips. Astarion buried his face in the hollow of her throat, muffling a husky groan. Dafni only ceased her attention to rid him completely of the meddlesome fabric of his pants. 

He really was beautiful everywhere. 

Astarion framed her with his lithesome form. His narrow hips coming down to meet her own, teasing his length against the tender, pink, flesh between her legs. She kept her expression reminded wide-eyed and demure as she shamelessly skimmed her wet slit against his cock. 

“Veluthe,” he murmured, kissing along her pointed ear. Dafni squeaked as he nibbled lightly at her earlobe.

“Come to me, arael’sha.” She coaxed, arms draped loosely over his shoulders, Dafni toyed with the soft baby-hair at the base of his skull, twirling the snowy wisps of curl gently around her index finger. She lifted her hips up to meet him, “I’m aching to feel you inside me.”

A delicious pressure started at her entrance. Her nerves were still alight from her first climax, the sensation of Astarion’s manhood sinking into her, inch by inch nearly brought tears to her eye. Stretched tight around him, her caves wrapped around him, heels digging into the top of his backside, urging him forwards. He set a slow, pleasant rhythm, his length delving delightfully deeper with each roll of his hips. Astarion dropped to his forearms, hilting himself at last.

A musical keen rattled through her as she writhed below him. He felt utterly perfect, buried so deep inside her. A warm, resplendent sensation enveloped her with each thrust. 

She was tipsy on intimacy and lovemaking. The feeling of their shared pleasure buzzing around her. By her nature, Dafni was a creature defined by emotion. Fashioned from boundless joy and playful whims, she took in the delight of others like lungfuls of crisp spring air. She could sense Astarion’s trepid excitement. Feel his need in every stroke. 

That’s the way, dear heart. A little tenderness won’t kill you.

Dafni drew him into a kiss, her lips locking against his with increasing passion. She could still taste the floral tang of her own arousal on his tongue as it swept between her parted lips. A bright smile took shape across her face when she broke the kiss. A single, iridescent butterfly had come to rest on the tip of his nose. It’s translucent, faerie fire wings illuminating his face with their whimsical glow. Astarion wrinkled his nose, a low, warm laugh filling his chest as the illusionary creature fluttered away. 

“I’m sorry,” she giggled, her hand cupping his cheek.

“Don’t be.” He insisted, “I find your quirks endearing.” 

Calling her wild, glittering charms, endearing quirks, was really a disservice. She turned what was once nothing but a grassy clearing into a lush meadow. A little slice of the Feywild brought into creation with nothing more than her bliss.

Spellbinding would have been a better discretion, however, he wasn’t exactly eager to add yet another item to his list of embarrassing, mid-coital confessions. It was frighteningly easy for Dafni to turn him into a besotted idiot. Between her honey-tongued kisses and bright laughter, it was hardly a fair fight. 

Add blood lust to the mix and he had a proven recipe for trouble. For that very reason, he’d come to the conclusion that separating feeding and fucking would be the wisest course. He enjoyed both far too much to fully surrender either. But it was hard enough to keep himself in check with his cock nestled inside her. He took in a deep breath, savoring the heady sweetness that clung to her smooth skin. Lilac and primrose, just a hint of bergamot. An aroma that left him feeling totally beguiled. The finest perfume from Marsember, could not hold a candle to Dafni’s heavenly bouquet. 

Her neck and thigh still bore dark purple reminders of their last encounter. He slid a hand along the soft skin in her inner thigh, his fingertips lingering on indentations he’d left behind. Dafni’s palms pressed into his chest, fingernails lightly scraping along his skin as he worked himself in and out of her snug cunny. A bolt of pleasure skipped down his spine at the memory of her blood, sweet and sharp, coursing through him as she came undone in his arms. 

Yes, separating feeding and fucking would be the wise, but by the Hells, was it getting harder and harder to listen to wisdom when she was around. 

“May I?” He asked, nuzzling lightly at the side of her throat. 

Dafni gave him a quick nod. His lips made their way down the column of her neck, his tongue running along the healing puncture marks. Dafni braced herself for the sharpness of his teeth as his lips whispered across her fluttering pulse. Dafni whimpered as he pulled out to the tip, her body aching at the loss of perfect fullness. With one forceful press, he hilted himself once more, sinking his fangs into the crook of her neck as she cried out. Dafni’s whole body felt as if it were alight, euphoria coursing through her every vein. Warm tears threatened to form in the corners of her eyes as she unraveled around him. He took just a few deep swallows before breaking away, a trail of red dripping from the edge of his mouth. 

“Dafni…” His fingers laced through hers pressing her hand to his heart, a steady thump jumping beneath her trembling palm. 

A glimmer of remembrance tugged at the back of her mind. A taste of something once known, lost to time. Dafni tried to chase the sensation but it was gone as quickly as it came, hidden beyond the bittersweet veil of mortality with her idyllic memories of Arvandor. 

Though she’d only known him for a short time, the friendship that had blossomed between them meant more to her than she’d dare say. She thanked the Gods for allowing him to fall so serendipitously into her life. She’d grown quite attached to all of her new friends, of course! But, there was something about Astarion and the easy familiarity between them that felt so very right. 

Her thoughts drifted to their conversation in the hag’s cottage. He’d spoken as if he’d known her for centuries then days. He had no recollection of their conversation when he awoke the following morning. In truth, Dafni had been a bit relieved. 

However, he came to know her true name- Whoever he might have been to her so many lifetimes ago, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the here and now, the people they were in this lifetime, and the person he now did not need the burden of any past affections he may or may not have had muddying the waters.

 If Astarion was to care for her, let it be on his own terms, free of influence and expectation. If by some slim chance, more memories resurfaced, they could deal with it then. Until that moment, if it ever came, she would continue nurturing their friendship and allow the tenderness budding between them to grow in its own time.

His hips slapped against hers with increasing desperation. His eyes were heavily lidded, a subtle flush glowing across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. His hold on her left hand tightening with every movement. Her intimate muscles tensed around him in the aftershock of her climax. His cock twitched, emptying inside her with a low, gratified sound. 

“You are an incredibly seductive little pixie.” He dropped to his forearm, his full weight pressing down against her, “I was sent out to bring you back to help pack and somehow I ended up naked in the woods with a ravished cleric.”

“I’m innocent in this situation!” Dafni chirped with laughter, gently freeing herself from his smothering tangle of willowy limbs. “I was seduced!” Astarion resisted her attempts to disentangle with playful flare. A flash of pearly fangs glinting beneath his upturned lips before landing on the ground beside her with a soft thud. Dafni rolled to her side, her hair tumbling down her bare shoulders as she came to rest on the swell of her hip, “I like seeing you smile, I wish you did that more often.”

“I promise to smile all you like if you come back and help me pack our things for the Underdark.” He quipped tapping his index finger to the upturned tip of her nose.

[windandwater]

I posted the final part of Wondered at the Change, the Fellowship of the Ring portion of a Legolas/Gimli annotated journey through LotR that I’ve been writing in my head for 19 years, yesterday. As I've mentioned, it was a lot of work and I'm pretty proud of it, so, here are some headcanons that I developed while writing it, many of which made it into the fic.

Series link: Where You Go, I Will Go Part 1: Wondered at the Change Part 2: He Stands Not Alone Part 3: You Shall Come With Me Part 2 headcanons post: here Part 3 headcanons post: here

Enjoy.

Bilbo Baggins writes insult poetry about his friends and neighbors. None of it's super mean-spirited, and it’s mainly to amuse himself. But he does it for the dwarves, too, which is great fun for him because they actually appreciate his jokes.

Speaking of which, every single dwarf in the Lonely Mountain finds Bilbo absolutely fucking hilarious.

Legolas also thinks the hobbits he's met are pretty funny. He and Gimli bond over this. They both think Merry and Pippin are hysterical.

The hobbits are a hotbed of inside jokes and references that the Fellowship does not understand even a little bit (Gandalf and Aragorn sometimes know what's going on but know better than to participate). Everyone is for the most part wildly confused around them all the time, and has just accepted it.

Aside from the four hobbits, every single damn one of them is terrified of Samwise Gamgee. You would be too if you ever saw him beat the shit out of an orc that was heading for Frodo.

Merry isn't super close with his dad, which is why he latched on to Théoden as a second father figure so hard. His dad is a bit strict, has high expectations, and doesn't realize that even though Merry gets into heaps of trouble with Pippin, he's actually pretty sensible and well-adjusted when it matters. His dad also has a lot of opinions that he likes to share, but doesn't listen much to other people. I'm not sure if people will realize why I've decided to go this route but that's it.

Legolas translated Frodo and Sam's song for Gandalf, set it to music, and had the Elves sing it in Elvish (so that all of the Elves could sing it) as well as Westron (so that Sam and Frodo could understand it when it was sung by the Elves who did speak it). It was the least he could do.

Pippin's three older sisters tormented him a bit, but he looks up to and adores every single one of them. They tease him mercilessly about everything, and he gives back as good as he gets. They would absolutely destroy anyone who dared to hurt their little brother.

He has historically not been entirely ethical about not using this to his advantage. His sisters know this and don't care (they figure he's earned it).

Boromir is mindblown by the fact that the hobbits have never known war. He wonders what his brother would think of them and their peaceful little land. If he would be as jealous as Boromir is; if he would also yet feel glad that their battles had succeeded in keeping other lands safe. The more he gets to know the hobbits, the more he feels the latter way, and the harder he will fight to protect their land but also them, individually.

The first thing Glóin and Gimli ever made together was an iron hook. Glóin still hangs his cloak on it.

There is no betting pool for when Legolas and Gimli will finally Admit Their Feelings for each other, but the day they tell Aragorn, after he congratulates them, he slips out for a few minutes, pours out a portion of beer onto the ground, and whispers "And here is the drink I owe you, my friend.” He hopes that somewhere Boromir is smiling.

I am not going to write out a list of every prank Merry and Pippin pulled on the quest (there wasn't much time for them anyway), but they absolutely did pretend to have a secret twin-style language that only the other understood. It is complete gibberish. Frodo and Sam went along with this immediately and without being warned in advance.

Actually for the rest of their pranks, just…just see every ridiculous stunt Billy and Dom pulled onset. Don’t tell me Merry and Pippin didn’t also invent “Tig” to fuck with Frodo. Just don’t.

Gandalf is the only one who consistently sees through their shit.

The Shire is ~~wholesome~~ in the way small towns are wholesome: seems really nice, everyone knows and helps each other, everyone also talks mad shit about each other and it is RICH in scandalous gossip.

This is not the headcanon, as it is actual canon that people gossip about Frodo’s mom murdering his dad, and about Pippin’s sister murdering her great aunt.

The headcanon part is that this is one of the big reasons that Gandalf absolutely adores it. He also thinks it’s hilarious when he gives them something real to gossip about. And he’s not sorry.

Everyone thinks Dwarves are obsessed with gold and gems, and that they thrive in darkness. This is only a partial truth, and certainly darkness has its place in their lives. But they are truly obsessed with light. The difference between them and Elves is that they would rather make it themselves, and thus turn the darkness underground into a field of Dwarf-made stars and suns. There is nothing more satisfying to a Dwarf than looking out at the works of their hands and the hands of their kin, and finding them beautiful and full of light.

The hobbits are S U F F E R I N G watching Gimli and Legolas dance around each other but not say anything. They have concocted so many dark conspiracies to get them together and nothing is working. Pray for them.

Aragorn finds the whole thing hilarious. Gandalf is too old for this shit.

Legolas will never tell Gimli, but he fell in love with caves that day, and though he should walk forever on the earth, he will never forget falling in love with that underground world almost as much as he loved the one who revealed it to him. He will not speak of it afterward, saying that Gimli only has the words for it, but in truth because it is too sacred a memory to put into words. And anyway, he loves watching Gimli talk about them; he sees no need to deny either of them the pleasure.

Gimli knows.

Gimli will never tell Legolas, but though he learned to appreciate trees and their beauty in Lórien, he learned to love them truly in Fangorn. He adored every grumpy and slow-moving Ent that they met; he saw sunlight through trees falling onto moss and dark wood; he felt the living and breathing darkness and felt truly at home in the trees for the first time. Though he had seen woods before, he had never seen them in such a light, through the eyes of one who loved them. It will forever be his favorite forest.

Legolas knows.

[raffinit]

5 Mythology? For Sylvaina. The prophecy said, so Person A and Person B are to be hitched!

this one got away from me a little bit i apologise

@skwiyhedd​

The first time Jaina ever caught wind of the prophecy was as a child; barely into her tweens, poring over dusty tomes in the highest shelves of the library. Books that most had forgotten even existed except for the librarians who were about as old and dusty as the books themselves. Jaina rather enjoyed spending time in the library. If not for the quiet, yellowy warmth it gave her, then for the stories Old Ned would tell her.

“There was a prophecy,” he said one day, tome spread open in his lap. He pointed one weathered finger at an image Jaina could barely make out; carefully etched in inks over parchment, faded over time and wear. An outline of the sun and the moon, the land and the sea. A tree outlined in flames and a throne of ice. “Eons old; some say older than time itself. A warrior —” Old Ned pointed to another picture, a figure in black ink whose edges frayed with time into a deep maroon and purple. Its upturned face smudged with age as if black tears ran freely from it. “— destined for Death. But Risen again from his grave with vengeance in his heart to burn the living to ashes with him.”

“How cruel,” Jaina remembered saying. “How heartless.”

Old Ned smiled at her patiently and gestured to her chest. “It’s always a matter of heart, my girl. See here —” He led her eyes down to the picture directly across the one of the warrior; a frozen throne and the warrior standing before it, beside another figure, unidentifiable.

She peered at it curiously. “Who is that?”

“No one knows. The prophecy spoke of another; a master of the elements. Someone with a lion heart strong enough to tame the wild fire of the warrior. She gave her heart to him and they ruled the land together, in peace, for ages to come.”

“But —”

The sound of the library doors creaking open made them both look up abruptly.

“There you are,” Jaina’s mother huffed. “Come along for your lessons, dear. Leave poor Old Ned in peace.”

Old Ned chuckled, shutting the tome as he rose on slow, aching feet. “No harm done, m’lady. The young Lady Proudmoore is always welcome here.”

“I want to hear more about the prophecy,” she begged, but Old Ned had simply pet her hair and sent her away.

“Another time,” he promised her. “Another day.”

When she asked her mother of it, Katherine scoffed. “It’s nothing more than fairy tales, dear. Children’s stories. Let it out of your mind.”

Jaina frowned, but the thought was fleeting in her youth at the prospect of magic lessons.

--------

The next time she heard of the prophecy was in passing; a derogatory remark made during a lesson in Dalaran. Second-year students in a cluster in the back of the class. “Pah,” the ringleader said. “Prophecies are nothing more than fantasies. Fairy tales people tell themselves to make themselves feel important.”

Jaina rolled her eyes and continued reading. They were meant to transcribe the Old Language; not whinge about it. The syntax was convoluted, but its grammar was similar enough to her encounters with the Elven languages for her to piece it together. “The pronouns are all wrong,” she told the archmage. “This translation for the words aren’t gender-specific. Even modern Thalassian and Elvish use neutral pronouns.”

The archmage peered at the book over her shoulder. “So it would appear. Translations aren’t always meant to be taken literally, Lady Proudmoore. Especially of such ancient tongues. The point of the exercise is to extract meaning, not nitpick.”

There was a snicker from the back of the class, and Jaina gave them all a withering glare.

“It’s wrong,” she said stoutly, looking the archmage in the eye. “The language is wrong. I can’t extract meaning if it’s telling me the wrong things.”

She earned two hours of detention with the archmage that day for her efforts. It was soon lost to the rest of her memories of Dalaran when the Scourge swept across the land.

-------

The last and most prominent time the prophecy came to light was late in the evening. When the day swept away into twilight and the stars scattered across the sky in a blanket murky light. It came at the hands of Thalyssra of all people — encased within a tome she had a distant memory of encountering.

“Forgive me for disturbing you so late in the evening,” Thalyssra murmured. There was a strange, pressing sense of urgency to her that prickled the nerves in Jaina’s spine. “But I had to show this to you.”

She brandished the tome, laying it open on Jaina’s desk until it came upon a page with two images. The warrior and the throne.

Thalyssra pointed at the figure beside the warrior, though her eyes were staring intently at Jaina. “That’s you.”

Jaina blinked. “What?”

“That’s you,” Thalyssra repeated, with rising excitement. “I remembered many years ago; centuries past when this prophecy was told. A warrior raised from the dead, vengeance in their heart — a master of the elements who could heal it —”

“That’s ridiculous,” she sputtered, reaching out to shut the tome. “Utter nonsense! Prophecies are just fairy tales, Thalyssra. Old wives’ tales.”

The night elf gestured towards portions of the book, flipping between pages eagerly. “Look, here — ‘arose in the sky, a flame so mighty; the roots of life burn’. That’s Teldrassil!” she exclaimed. “And here — ‘what melody rose from depths of black; the waters moved and the dead slept’. That’s you!”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous,” she insisted, yanking the book over to her and frantically skimming the page. “No, see — that bloody translation is wrong.”

“I think I’d know better than you would,” Thalyssra replied, not unkindly. “I checked and triple-checked. Even Liadrin agrees —”

Jaina shook her head incredulously. “Liadrin? What does Liadrin have to do with this?”

“She is closer to Sylvanas than either of us — I needed her assistance in speaking with the Banshee Queen —”

There was a knock at the door, quiet and discreet. Thalyssra’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that should be them.”

“Wh—” Jaina’s mind reeled. What did that even mean for them? Short of the thought being absolutely ridiculous, unfathomable, unprecedented — all those things — what the hell was she meant to do with the information? “Wait a minute, wait a damn minute —”

But Thalyssra would not. She moved to the door and pulled it open. Liadrin slipped in quickly, followed by a significantly less eager and wary Sylvanas Windrunner.

“Oh good,” Liadrin said, jerking her chin at the tome on the desk. “You’ve brought her up to speed. That’s half of the job done.”

Sylvanas eyed her warily from across the room, red eyes flicking to the tome and then back to her. “Proudmoore. I see they’ve roped you into this madness as well.”

“I’m honestly more surprised they roped you into it,” she replied, mostly without thought, because rational thought didn’t seem to go very far in that moment. “You seem to be the most sensible one here. What the fuck is happening right now?”

Liadrin answered for the Warchief, which in any other situation would have surprised Jaina. “We need you to get married. Yesterday would have been ideal, but we’ll take what we can get.”

Jaina stared in alarm. “Excuse me?”

“Married. Hitched. Espoused.” Liadrin waved a hand impatiently. “Whichever you prefer. The prophecy insists.”

“What bloody prophecy —”

“The prophecy of the warrior and the mage,” Sylvanas intoned quietly, looking equally at a loss. It was the most emotive Jaina had ever seen her. “The prophecy spoke of the End of Days; the rise of a dark power and a frozen throne. Everything that’s happened so far has come true. More or less. They seem to be convinced that if you and I...join...it would bring the prophecy to full circle.”

“And we all won’t die,” Liadrin added.

Jaina opened her mouth to protest, but no sound would come forth but for a strangled choke. She stared at Sylvanas for some sort of indication; to see the sneering smirk and cruel eyes or a deeply-rooted boredness. Something other than the grimness that set the Queen’s brow into a furrow and her lips into a thin line.

“Tides,” she gasped. “You actually believe them.”

“What choice do I have?” Sylvanas snapped, bridling with irritation. “I was coerced into coming here —”

“You knew exactly where we were going. I saw you quicken your step —”

“Regardless,” Sylvanas bit out, glaring at Liadrin. “We have nothing more to lose.” She looked at Jaina then, expectant and almost...unsure. “What say you, Lord Admiral? If we wed and it works, then that is all. If we do and it fails, it can be annulled. Simple as that.”

Thalyssra made a quiet little exclamation. “Oh, we must plan the wedding!”

“She hasn’t even said yes!” Liadrin gestured to Sylvanas. “Kneel, damn it. Do it properly.”

Jaina stared at them all, at Sylvanas, when the Warchief knelt upon a knee before her. A sudden rush of sensations made her sway in place.

“Don’t embarrass me, Proudmoore,” Sylvanas mumbled, glaring up at her. “I won’t debase myself further.”

“You need to ask her, you twit,” Liadrin scoffed, and Jaina marvelled at the absolute tolerance for the disrespect as Sylvanas gritted her teeth and growled in response.

“There’s no need,” Jaina blurted. “Don’t — it’s fine. I —” Tides below and Light above, what the hell was she even doing? 

“I accept.”

[the-gay-cryptid]

Dnd highlights from last nights game:

Our DM scared the shit out of us when he accidently pulled a tarrasque token onto the board, and after some put of character conversation, we learned that myself and Soli are the only ones who can learn a spell that actually permanently kills one. Though DM has promised he wont actually make us fight one.

Soli tried to wake up after being passed out for much of the previous day and got sleep paralysis

Saffron tried to follow a guy she thought looked suspicious when we sent her to try and find some thugs we're being paid to deal with, but lost him after she found a letter in a language she couldnt read that had her last name on it

Rather than show us the letter, she secretly copied a word from it and asked us if we knew what it said. We all speak elvish and told her it said "identify"

She tried to lie about where she found it, but we all called her out and she admitted it was from a letter. She then told us she wasnt ready to let us see it, but that she thinks shes in danger, and that people might be after her.

Given that it's a problem Jade can relate to, I instantly got a whole lot more protective of her.

We all went to the inn to turn in for the night, and Saffron stayed with Joshua so he could protect her. In the middle of the night, she had a nightmare and woke up crying. She told us out of character that, if Jushua hadnt been with her and making her feel safe, she wouldve run.

The next morning we went to the head of the town to see if our pay had come in, which it hadnt, and Saffron took a moment to ask if we were her friends.

After a few minutes out of character screaming and awwing and a little crying, Joshua and Soli told yes, of course. Vers revealed he had a daughter, and Saffron reminded him of her, which set off more crying.

Seriously, our group chat right now is full of crying gifs

And then I crouched down and told her "yes, we're friends, and I'll protect you. Even if you do tie snake skins to my foot."

And then we realized we hadnt left the building and were having this conversation in front of the town master, who was deeply uncomfortable

We stood outside and debated if she would investigate the caves or an abandoned manor first, which turned into making minecraft villager noises and declaring it a new language spoken only by the 5 of us called "partys' cant"

On our way to investigate the caves, Saffron and Soli fell to the back of the group, and Saffron gave her the letter to translate.

Our DM called Soli's player separately, and told her what it said. Which was absolutely terrifying for the rest of us.

According to Soli, the letter basically said to hunt down and bring back the halfling (Saffron). And also implied whoever sent it knew where she was, who she was with, and what we were doing. Though in game only Soli and Saffron know this. Also theres some tie in with the person who signed the letter and her backstory, but none of us know anything about that.

We all went into a cave and found a hideout and kicked some ass. And then we went into the next room and attempted to kick more ass.

Instead, joshua got his ass handed to him and was knocked unconscious. Soli healed him, and he knocked some thugs out, then immediately was knocked unconscious again.

I cast a spell while he was out, so joshua still hasnt seen Jade do anything but short sword attacks and vicious mockery, and is starting to get suspicious of me for all the wrong reasons.

After we took care of the thugs, and Joshua passed his death saves and got a healing potion, he decided "fuck this, we'll come back later"

So basically it was a blast and very emotional and we are all Saffron's parents now.

Oh, and I've also decided that next time I cast dissonant whispers, it's going to sound like Never Gonna Give You Up

[toxicdogars]

DND!!

Tumblr Meets D&D - Your Muse as a D&D Character

Blue

The last of my builds for this round, we finally get to a Pokemon Adventures character, which means we actually have a heckin’ lot to base this build off of, both from the canon source and from @maskedthief‘s interpretation of her. Blue is the third trainer to rise from Pallet Town, having set out on her journey around Kanto to take part in the league tournament after stealing a Squirtle from Professor Oak’s lab. She’s run into the likes of Red and Green plenty of times, though major moments include stealing Red’s Boulder and Cascade Badges as well as selling him a bunch of fake items. There’s also the raid on Silph Co, where she helped Red and Green knock Team Rocket outa there, even pulling a few fast ones on the mistress of Psychic Types and Rocket Admin, Sabrina. We should also be reminded of her backstory, kidnapped at a young age by a giant bird and raised as one of the Masked Man’s minions. It was there she learned all about Evolution- when something will evolve, how it evolves, how fast it can evolve, etc. These are skills we should be able to translate into some forms of knowledge, which is our first goal. In addition we need to make sure her hands are fast and just as sticky and that she can move fast to wing it outta there. Lastly, let’s try to get some of her Pokemon team represented, with the bulk of them being of the Fairy Type, we should ensure that Blue has plenty of fey influence. Once again, we’ll be using Dungeons and Dragons 5th edition and all books and articles related to it.

Ability Scores

These ventures will use standard array, a set of numbers given as a sort of average stat pool. Feel free to roll for stats if you wanted to use this character, just treat this arrangement as a general order for what stats are most important. We won’t need to bother with multiclassing, so just make sure you use the stat spread as a guideline and you’ll be passing with flying colors. ...Too soon? 

Strength: 8 (Won’t really help us.) Dexterity: 15 (Main attacking stat and useful for thievery) Constitution: 10 (I don’t wanna dump it.) Intelligence: 13 (Need this to be pretty solid.) Wisdom: 12 (Definitely has decent Insight rolls.) Charisma: 14 (Definitely knows how to please people.)

Race

Let’s look at some options here. We could make Blue a Human, since she is one (as far as we’re aware) and get her a free Feat. But I think we can do that juuuuust a little bit better. Know how I mentioned the fey earlier? Let’s actually make Blue a Half-Elf. Half-Elves get the best of Humans and Elves, starting with the typical 30 feet of movement, +2 to their Charisma score (raising it to 16), +1 to two different stats of their choice (bump Dexterity to 16 and Intelligence to 14), and Darkvision out to 60 feet. It doesn’t look very easy to see outta that mask, so she definitely had to see better in low light. Not to mention it’s very handy for a thief. Her Fey Ancestry would also give her advantage on charm saves and she wouldn’t be able to be put to sleep by magic, great for staying away from insomnia and nightmares, eh? She would also get Skill Versatility, gaining two skills of her choice. I’d recommend Arcana for her knowledge of magical metamorphosis and History to cover any research on Evolution already done. As for Languages, she gets Common, Elvish, and a language of her choice. Perhaps Auran, the language of beings close to the Elemental Plane of Air? 

Class and Background

Now, for our thief-y little girl here, I’m thinking that the best way to go is Bard, her About page does mention she’s a good singer, right? Okay that’s a big fat lie and we know it. It’s obvious, she’s a Rogue. Do I even need to explain why? No, she probably stole the reason and flew on outta here. 

Rogues start with a d8 hit die (decent, not the best), proficiency in Dexterity and Intelligence saving throws, simple weapons, hand crossbows, longswords, rapiers, shortswords, thieves’ tools, and four skills from a pretty big list. Of the options listed, Acrobatics, Deception, Investigation, and Persuasion cover her agility and people skills effectively. We’ll get some more skills to aid her thieving from her background. Toss on some light armor, I’d recommend studded leather. As for what weapons to focus on, I’d suggest any Finesse weapon to pair well with her Dexterity. While there’s no real in-character option, but a rapier is pretty stylish and could evoke a sweet masked thief vibe. It deals a d8 + her Dexterity modifier in damage too, making it the strongest option for her. 

As for her background, let’s focus on her time with the Masked Man and call her an Urchin. But since we’re altering it a bit, feel free to rename it Kidnapped Youth or something like that. Take proficiency in Sleight of Hand and Perception to round off her thief-y skills. As I’ve said before, backgrounds also give you access to tools. Her Ditto could be represented early with proficiency in a Disguise Kit while proficiency in the Forgery Kit could make her just as deceptive in writing as she is with spoken word.

This build’s gonna be pretty easy, Rogue from start to finish. We’ll take a look at what Blue gets at each level and discuss ways to make use of them and cover any choices that need to be made. At Rogue 1, Blue gets one of the best things about being a Rogue, a way to make her anime as fuck with incredible skill checks in the skills she uses most:

Expertise: Choose two of your skill proficiencies, or one of your skill proficiencies and your proficiency with thieves' tools. Your proficiency bonus is doubled for any ability check you make that uses either of the chosen proficiencies..

I’d suggest Arcana to make her an expert in Evolution and Sleight of Hand to make her hands as fast as possible. For the record, proficiency bonuses start at +2 and reach +6 by level twenty, so that’s a free +12 in those stats by the end of the build. Pretty dang good if you ask me. Rogues also get their other key feature at this level, which helps them deal more damage in their turn:

Sneak Attack: Once per turn, you can deal extra 1d6 damage to one creature you hit with an attack if you have advantage on the attack roll. The attack must use a finesse or a ranged weapon.You don't need advantage on the attack roll if another enemy of the target is within 5 feet of it, that enemy isn't incapacitated, and you don't have disadvantage on the attack roll.

And lastly our girl Blue gets Thieves’ Cant, a secret language of ciphers and symbols that can carry secret messages. Pretty handy way to exchange secret communications.

Thieves’ Cant: You know thieves' cant, a secret mix of dialect, jargon, and code that allows you to hide messages in seemingly normal conversation. Only another creature that knows thieves' cant understands such messages. It takes four times longer to convey such a message than it does to speak the same idea plainly. In addition, you understand a set of secret signs and symbols used to convey short, simple messages, such as whether an area is dangerous or the territory of a thieves' guild, whether loot is nearby, or whether the people in an area are easy marks or will provide a safe house for thieves on the run.

At Rogue 2, we can satisfy that speedy goal of mine and get a way for her to soar like a Pidgeot compared to the average adventurer:

Cunning Action: You can use your Bonus Action to take the Dash, Disengage, or Hide action. Thanks to the Class Feature Variant Unearthed Arcana article, she can additionally use this bonus action to Aim. When using your bonus action in this way, you give yourself advantage on your next attack roll on the current turn. You can use this bonus action only if you haven’t moved during this turn, and after you use the bonus action, your speed is 0 until the end of the current turn

At Rogue 3, Blue can pick a roguish archetype. Arcane Tricksters gain the ability to cast wizard spells, relying on their Intelligence modifier to enchant and illuse. This means her Intelligence modifier is added to the attack rolls of spells and the difficulty check of saving throws her spells require. She gains two cantrips from the wizard list alongside Mage Hand, and three first spells, two of which must be enchantment or illusion schools with the third being free of that restriction. In case someone doesn’t know the difference, cantrips are simple magical tricks you can pull off at will, while leveled spells require expending one of your spell slots of a level equal to or higher than the spell’s level. Here’s some options:

Mage Hand: A conjuration cantrip that manifests a spectral hand that can be used to do a ton of really small things like lifting small objects, pulling levers from a distance, that sort of thing. It’s like a tiny ghost thing, which would be perfect if Blue ever picked up, say, a Shuppet or something. Especially with the benefits that Arcane Trickster gives her, as you’ll see down below. Dancing Lights: An evocation cantrip that creates lines of multicolored orbs of light, like fairy lights. It does require concentration to maintain them, but it’s still a nice little spell for its effects. Message: An transmutation cantrip that that allows the user to send a telepathic message to someone they point at, and that individual can respond telepathically. It’s like a walkie talkie, or a cell phone. A shitty cell phone. With a range of only a hundred and twenty feet. Disguise Self: A first level illusion spell that will let Blue take on different appearances. This is essentially her Ditto, able to shift her into the likeness of Sabrina, for instance.  Charm Person: A first level enchantment spell forces a Wisdom saving throw on the target, and if they fail they become charmed by her and basically become her bestest friend while they’re affected. A great way to get what she wants if her own natural charisma isn’t enough.  Find Familiar: A first level conjuration spell that has a buncha random rules, that you’re gonna wanna look up, but it basically amounts to the ability to summon a pet that will stick around and help her out. I’d recommend a pooch of some sort, and since this spell can allow the beast summoned to be considered a different creature type, it could be a fey dog. You know. Like Snubbull. 

Also at this level, Blue gains some swanky upgrades to her Mage Hand spell, letting her use it for more rogue-y things. Additionally, her Sneak Attack dice go up to 2d6:

Mage Hand Legerdemain: When you cast Mage Hand, you can make the spectral hand invisible, and you can perform the following additional tasks with it: -You can stow one object the hand is holding in a container worn or carried by another creature. -You can retrieve an object in a container worn or carried by another creature. -You can use thieves' tools to pick locks and disarm traps at range. -You can perform one of these tasks without being noticed by a creature if you succeed on a Dexterity (Sleight of Hand) check contested by the creatures Wisdom (Perception) check. -In addition, you can use the bonus action granted by your Cunning Action to control the hand.

At Rouge 4, Blue gets the first of her Ability Score Improvements (ASIs). Let’s take the +2 and put it in Dexterity, bumping that up to 18 for better hit and damage rolls with her rapier and better armor. She also gets another spell, which can be from the enchantment or illusion schools:

Color Spray: A first level illusion spell that releases brilliant light in a cone that blinds a certain amount of hit points’ worth of individuals for one round. It’s not the best way to stall a foe, but it’s certainly in character. It’s a solid use of Flash, which would have been an HM back in the day that I suspect one of her team would have had. 

At Rouge 5, Blue gets another incredibly helpful core feature that makes it a lot easier for Rogues to survive in the midst of combat. And it certainly fits her character, as the Pokemon Adventures trainers aren’t hesitant to get right up there with their foes in battles. In addition, her Sneak Attack dice go up to 3d6:

Uncanny Dodge: When an attacker that you can see hits you with an attack, you can use your reaction to halve the attack's damage against you.

At Rogue 6, Blue gains Expertise in two more skills (or her thieves’ tools) of her choice. Let’s make her social skills even more busted and take expertise in Deception and Persuasion. 

At Rogue 7, Blue gets a spell, which can now be of second level, and another key feature which makes her even harder to hit than she was before, even by some of the strongest spells in the game. In addition, her Sneak Attack dice go up to 4d6:

Mirror Image: A second level illusion spell that functions like Double Team, creating illusory clones that can draw fire, making it harder to hit the real Blue. A handy little technique that I could see Blue making a lot of use of.  Evasion: When you are subjected to an effect that allows you to make a Dexterity saving throw to take only half damage, you instead take no damage if you succeed on the saving throw, and only half damage if you fail.

At Rogue 8, Blue gets her second ASI and let’s use that to max her Dexterity score at 20 for the best hit, damage, and armor modifiers for her level. She also gets a spell from any school:

Thunderwave: A first level evocation spell that blasts a fifteen foot radius around her with damaging sound, a bit like Hyper Voice, which I have no doubt her Jiggly knows. It’s handy to have magical damage, and with such a focus on utility spells this might be the best option for damage if her rapier won’t cut it.

At Rogue 9, Blue gets another Arcane Trickster feature that makes her oh-so deliciously more capable of messing with her enemies. In addition, her Sneak Attack dice go up to 5d6:

Magical Ambush: If you are hidden from a creature when you cast a spell on it, the creature has disadvantage on any saving throw it makes against the spell this turn.

At Rogue 10, Blue gets her third ASI and lets use that to bump her Intelligence by +2 (raising it to 16) for better saves and and hit rolls. She also gets her fourth cantrip and another spell, which again must be from the enchantment or illusion schools:

Ray of Frost: An evocation cantrip that looses a blast of cold energy like some sort of beam or ray of ice. The book says it’s fired from the caster, but I see no trouble flavoring it as tossing out a pokeball to summon a mighty Blastoise to douse a foe with cold water. Some nice damage at range, since cantrips scale up with level, gaining additional damage dice.   Hold Person: A second level enchantment spell that forces a Wisdom saving throw on a foe, restraining them in place if they fail. This is your Whirlpool on Blasty or some sorta weird fairy magic from Jiggly or Clefy. Combine it with Magical Ambush to make it really hard for the enemy to pass the save.

At Rogue 11, Blue gains another spell from the enchantment or illusion schools and another touchstone feature for improving her skills, and let’s just say it’s going to make her a complete monster with the skills she has expertise in. In addition, her Sneak Attack dice go up to 6d6:

Sleep: A first level enchantment spell that uses Sing to put a certain number of hit points’ worth of foes in the area to sleep. This is a little more effective than Color Spray and hits over a wider area, but there are times when blinding a foe may be more useful than simply knocking them out. Regardless, a useful spell to have in her kit.  Reliable Talent: Whenever you make an ability check that lets you add your proficiency bonus, you can treat a d20 roll of 9 or lower as a 10.  

Seriously, consider this for a second. A Sleight of Hand check from her at this level has a bonus of +13 (5 from Dexterity, 8 from doubled proficiency). That means the lowest she can roll on a Sleight of hand check is 23. Lowest. That’s crazy. And super amazing for stealing her friends’ wallets before casually handing them back to them.

At Rogue 12, Blue gets her fourth ASI and lets use that to bump her Charisma by +2 (raising it to 16) to make her all the more sociable and manipulative.

At Rogue 13, she gets another spell, which can now be of third level. Blue apparently decided that it wasn’t good enough to be stabbing people and casting spells at the same time and decided to make it so she can really fuck up a single person that was getting on her nerves. In addition, her Sneak Attack dice go up to 7d6:

Fear: A third level illusion spell that forces foes to make a Wisdom saving throw or be frightened by some terrifying visage. Why not show her enemies a massive shadowy bird of doom? Oh, they aren’t afraid of birds? Ouch. I suppose ya could spook ‘em with something else though.  Versatile Trickster: As a bonus action on your turn, you can designate a creature within 5 feet of your Mage Hand. Doing so gives you advantage on attack rolls against that creature until the end of the turn.

At Rogue 14, Blue gains another spell from any school and a feature that may not be perfectly in character, but it does extrapolate on how low to the ground her ears can be. And I see nothing wrong with giving characters features that build on their canon:

Tidal Wave: A third level conjuration spell that releases a massive wave of crushing water, dealing bludgeoning damage over a wide area should the targets fail a Dexterity saving throw. This is the best approximation of Blasty’s Hydro Cannon I could find. Blindsense: If you are able to hear, you are aware of the location of any hidden or invisible creature within 10 feet of you.  

At Rogue 15, Blue gets a really handy way to mitigate that lower Wisdom score, something I’d wanted to deal with since the beginning. In addition, her Sneak Attack dice go up to 8d6:

Slippery Mind: You gain proficiency in Wisdom saving throws.

At Rogue 16, Blue gets her fifth ASI and honestly her stats look pretty fine, so let’s exchange that ASI for a Feat, and I’d recommend a way to give her more skill proficiencies- as in the Skilled Feat. She also gets another spell from either of her restricted schools:

Skilled:  You gain proficiency in any combination of 3 skills or tools of your choice. Round off her survival skills by taking Survival, Nature, and Animal Handling.  Invisibility: A second level illusion spell that does what it says on the tin, turning Blue invisible for the duration, as long as she maintains her concentration. Really dang handy, and something I suspect could be possible with Ditty, reflecting the light around them to turn invisible or something.

At Rogue 17, Blue gets another Arcane Trickster feature that makes her the bane of enemy casters. Considering her smarts and her knowledge of Pokemon, it does make sense that she’d be able to put her magical know-how to fuck up other people’s days. In addition, her Sneak Attack dice go up to 9d6:

Spell Thief: Immediately after a creature casts a spell that targets you or includes you in its area of effect, you can use your reaction to force the creature to make a saving throw with its spellcasting ability modifier. The DC equals your spell save DC. On a failed save, you negate the spell's effect against you, and you steal the knowledge of the spell if it is at least 1st-level and of a level you can cast (it doesn't need to be a wizard spell). For the next 8 hours, you know the spell, can cast it using your spell slots, and the creature can't cast that spell until the 8 hours have passed. Once you use this feature, you can't use it again until you finish a long rest.

At Rogue 18, Blue gets yet another feature that makes her really damn hard to hit. Kinda terrifying if ya ask me, she’s lookin’ more like a DBZ character with how many options she has to dodge:

Elusive: No attack roll has advantage against you while you aren't incapacitated.

At Rogue 19 Blue gets her sixth ASI and lets also trade that one in for a Feat. I’d recommend Alert, so she’s always making use of her skills to keep an eye on things. She also gets another spell from one of her restricted schools, which can now be of fourth level. In addition, her Sneak Attack dice go up to 10d6:

Alert: Always on the lookout for danger, you gain the following benefits: -You can't be surprised while you are conscious. -You gain a +5 bonus to initiative. -Other creatures don't gain advantage on attack rolls against you as a result of being unseen by you. Charm Monster: A fourth level enchantment spell that does what Charm Person does to people but to monsters. it forces a Wisdom saving throw, and if the monster fails they become Blue’s best friendy-wend. Very handy to stop marauding monstrous beastly Pokemon if ya ask me.  

At Rogue 20, Blue gets her another spell from any school, and her capstone feature, and a pretty solid one at that:

Mordenkainen’s Faithful Hound: A fourth level conjuration spell that yes, may seem a bit odd of a pick, but it’s actually kinda nifty. It summons an invisible dog that guards you for eight hours, chompin’ on anything that gets in Blue’s way for 4d8 piercing damage. Now I said that her Familiar could be Snubbull, and I stand by that, so I suggest you use this spell to emulate her Nido instead. The loyal Nidoqueen already behaves like a guard dog, so it seemed pretty dang fitting to me.  Stroke of Luck: If your attack misses a target within range, you can turn the miss into a hit. Alternatively, if you fail an ability check, you can treat the d20 roll as a 20. Once you use this feature, you can't use it again until you finish a short or long rest. 

See what I mean? A once per short rest instant win button. Call it her Dex Holder plot armor if ya want. 

Final Thoughts

Know how I said Clair was terrifying? Blue is just as much, if not moreso. I’ve already talked about just how busted Expertise is and how good it is on someone like Blue, but let’s look at just how many of her skill checks are going to be amazing. There are eighteen skills in the game, and Blue has proficiency in eleven of them. Hell, she practically has proficiency in the hidden nineteenth skill, Initiative! Alert gives her a bonus that’s only one off of her proficiency, so yeah. Not to mention that four of the skills she’s proficiency in will never roll lower than a 20 on the die, seeing as her +12 proficiency bonus stacks on top of Reliable Talent’s ability to turn anything under 10 to 10. That’s just. Really damn good. The few skills she’s not proficient in are just ones she probably wouldn’t need to take anyway. With only seven skills left, her allies could easily handle them. I mean. Yellow definitely has the Medicine and Religion skills covered, both Green and Red have Athletics no doubt. What’s left? Performance? She’s not good at singing. Stealth? Why be sneaky when you can waltz right in and take what you want? Intimidation? That’s more Green’s thing. Insight? That’s more Yellow’s thing. And ah. That’s all the skills left. Yeah. Blue’s a freakin’ skill monkey. And she’s got great damage with her Sneak Attack and plenty of ways to get advantage so she can always get the big damage off. Not to mention her spells make her a threat even at range, mixing in magical damage to boot.

There’s not many cons. I mean… spell slots are a limited resource, sure, but that’s why you gotta be picky about you use them. We also never boosted her Constitution, leaving her with pretty low hit points throughout the build, even with maximum rolls on the hit dice. But that’s why I always say you roll for stats- You’re more than likely going to get a roll you like better to at least get a small bonus. My advice? If you can get a Constitution score of 14 as a Rogue or some sort of caster, then you are perfectly fine as is. And if ya don’t have the Con, Blue still has a ton of ways to avoid damage with all those features from Rogue. Seriously, twenty levels of Rogue makes for a stupidly infuriating game of cat and mouse, and I’m sure Blue would love that.

I hope you enjoyed this. Feel free to tell me how wrong I am with my choices.