#pact creature design

[lakesbian]

it's the moment like 4 of you have been waiting for:

i finally rotated pact creature design in my brain enough to post about it. to all the people who sent me asks wanting to hear my thoughts explaining Why Pact Creatures Are So Good this ones for you.

the core of pact's monster design boils down to one very good fact about pact's worldbuilding: in the world of pact, the universe canonically loves a good story. magic literally runs on themes and ideas. subsequently, strong themes aren't the end result of pact's monster design so much as they are the most fundamental aspect of it--meaningful themes and narratives are such a textually important part of how pact monsters work that one bogeyman outright tries to start a conversation with blake by, upon noticing the birdhouse in his soul (tm), asking if birds are important to him.

what really seals the deal on this being fascinating is that pact monsters aren't invented wholesale--a lot of the book hinges on offering its own explanations for preexisting folklore or urban legend. pact takes a variety of common threads in the way cultural myths & monsters are presented, picks out the conceptions with compelling implications, and distills them into one design so thematically coherent and clarifying that it makes you go "ohhh, why aren't All ghosts/dragons/fae like this? this is Exactly What They're Supposed To Be."

like, we all know that ghosts are dead people, and oftentimes the appearance and/or behavior they're written as having is either implicitly or explicitly based on reenactments of their past life/how they died, and sometimes they're depicted as lucid but more often than not they're depicted more like broken or warped remnants of a person, and sometimes they make things colder/give off Bad Emotional Vibes/etc. those are generally true assertions about how ghosts are often culturally presented.

pact takes that and explicitly declares that ghosts are what happens when something so bad happens that an imprint of the resultant misery is left on the fabric of the universe. some ghosts appear horrifying because their appearance is warped and exaggerated beyond what's realistically possible to match how awful whatever happened to them felt. some ghosts are more lucid because their imprint is more recent, or has been strengthened and fed by human attention instead of left to decay. some ghosts are less lucid because they were forgotten. when ghosts make the atmosphere feel awful to be in, that's because the ghost isn't just the imprint of the person, it's an imprint of the awful thing itself. incredibly interesting! it feels so very much like the absolute heart of what ghost stories are about--about the grief and horror of being impacted by the ever-present echo of something terrible, about something so viscerally wretched happening that reality itself cannot forget it, about the emotionally powerful interactions between someone still-living and the memory of someone already long gone.

(pact also gives an aside that, in very rare scenarios, neutral or arguably even positive occasions which leave a sufficiently strong enough impression can also become ghosts. genuinely fascinating expansion.)

& the thing here is that pact does this for creatures like ghosts that are already richly thematic and iconic, but it Also does it for creatures with less obvious theming. how do dragons work? what's pact's underlying explanation for their position as immortal, powerful, regal, fire-breathing* fantasy monsters?

*&, depending on the media, sometimes ice-breathing or poisonous or whatever else

well, you see, dragons are recursive loops. "dragons are recursive loops" is perhaps one of the Top All Time sentences in the entire book, and the delightful thing is that, in addition to sounding excellent, it makes sense.

that's how they generate and spit out so much of whatever their element is. they're snarls. they're ouroboroses. they're something feeding into itself, self-sustaining for thousands of years, drowning anything which threatens it in torrents of whatever the self-feeding element is--fire, sometimes, but it could be poison, or ice, or whatever else, and that's why you've probably heard of ice dragons in addition to classic fire dragons. Dragons Are Recursive Loops. recursiveness is, after all, a form of immortality.

or, like, fae? we all know that faeries are incomprehensibly old/outright immortal Tricky Little Bitches who like to manipulate people while posing in an inhumanly/horrifically beautiful fashion and going "teehee." pact takes that to a fantastically surreal level of extreme artifice, one that's almost grotesque in its dreamlike nature--they have all lived for so very long that, to them, boredom is worse than death, and so they have complicated social games spanning centuries, and speak in the most practiced of misleading wordplay, and perfectly curate their forests so that even the smallest pebble is an intentionally-chosen setpiece for their play. they graduated from handjobs a couple dozens of millennia ago--now they're more into erotic-poetic descriptions of full-body degloving. you will not notice when a faerie steals and replaces your child, because you are very young and stupid compared to them, and playing-pretend at being your child is only the briefest of trifles in their unfathomably long lifespan.

the other good bit is that pact explicitly acknowledges that faeries run on what is colloquially deemed Bullshit--the universe likes a good story, and faeries have gotten very good at telling it a moving story. if a faerie tells a good enough story about having a sword that breaks the laws of physics, then that is what their sword will do. and so the way to combat faeries is not to out-bullshit them--because no one is out-bullshitting a being with thousands of years of bullshitting practice--but to say "no, that's fucking stupid and made up" until their implausibly long sword acts like a sword of that size actually should and shatters on the spot.

& all of these writing decisions feel so naturally truthful to what these creatures are Supposed to be--they're really not wholly new takes, they're a presentation of preexisting ideas in a way that gets why those ideas appeal to people and goes full-throttle on all the most thematically rich or otherwise narratively interesting parts. It's Good Writing. I Like It. you could spend an entire essay breaking down the presentation of literally any single one of pact's creatures, it's that compelling in its reflection and organization of Ideas About Creatures.

[moonlightcycle571]

Marvel making familiars for his loved ones

So I was thinking about Tawky Tawny (again). The thing about him is that he got so many different backstories or explanations on what he might be, but a common enough theme that we see is that he is a stuffed toy when he wants to be.

So here me out.

Tawky Tawny is Billy’s familiar and helps him adjust to his magic when he wants to use it in his small form. He was originally a toy given to Billy by his parents and later given life by The Wizard.

It came with more benefits. Tawny would eat his nightmares, be able to teleport to Billy’s location so that he could never get stolen or lost, protect Billy by going into his tiger form and all around be a constant warmth on his life.

So imagine Billy doing the same as The Wizard.

A lot of his friends aren’t magic users and don’t have the same magical protection he does, so maybe he gives them some enchanted clothing or pendants. A semi familiar (because without magic you can’t make a magical familiar pact with a living animal) where he just makes them familiars.

He would create stuffed animals, and weave in some magic to make them sentient. Maybe it would start with younger heroes, but when he realises his coworkers in the JL need the help as well, he absolutely would make some for them. They, like Tawny prefer to stay in stuffed toy mode, but will sometimes would want to stretch their paws and go into animal form once they feel like they are in a suitable environment.

Just picture it.

It all started with Raven, and the constant stress she might feel with having to constantly guard over Trigon. She can’t have a familiar because most creatures would suffer if give a link to her because her magic is not compatible like that. Captain Marvel decided to make her a companion. He makes her a little leopard wearing an elegant pink suit with a little top hat.

Raven: Is that a plush?

Cap: I heard you have trouble sleeping, so I got you a friend. I haven’t given them a name or pronouns, so that’s up to you.

Raven: … why

Cap: Trust me, they are for nightmares! Tawny *holds up his tiger plush* tells me they are fun to hunt and makes quite the sweet treat.

Raven: *holding the handmade gift* thank you 🥺

Cue shenanigans where she thinks he’s just trying to be a great den mother, and is a tad naive thinking stuffed animals actually work. Not that she isn’t holding little Ebony Darkness every night and is getting the best sleep she has in years.

Another thing to add is that insomnia and PTSD is a common sight within the caped community. And of course Billy notices that. So, after seeing more and more positive results of his plushies, he makes more and more. It becomes a trend. Younger heroes receive a small teddy of an animal and proceed to get attached to it almost immediately.

Nightwing almost cried when he got an elephant wearing a bow tie . Cap said that he seemed like the type to like them. Now Dick has given Zitka a little sibling to sleep at night with. But then that plush becomes fond of Zitka and gave the og elephant plush sentience.

Starfire absolutely adores her shrimp plush. Said something about being able to see colours together. Wally doesn’t know what to think about getting a turtle, but quickly gets attached, even putting little designs in the shell.

Jason also likes to put in patterns in his sting-ray, which Roy doesn’t get cause he thinks his jelly fish is perfect just the way she is. Lian gets a smaller jellyfish, which makes her happy because all the Outlaws get a sea animal.

All the members of YJ, even the retired ones, get a reindeer. They suspect he knows.

It gets back to the JL that Caps giving stuffed toys to their protoges.

Flash: Hey, Cap, how come we don’t get any stuffed animals?

Captain, exited his work is wanted: You want one!!!

Flash, can’t say no to that face: … yes I do

He gets all exited and makes plushies for all of his coworkers, that he pours a bit of extra magic in his work.

CM, fidgeting infringe if the door:

Batman: what is it Captain

CM: I made you something but then I realised that you wouldn’t really want it but then it could be cool if you did and I didn’t want to overthink-

Batman, stopping Billy’s rant: go ahead

CM, hands him a plush snake wearing spectacles: I thought you would like them. I haven’t named them so that’s up to you

Batman, not knowing where to go from here: … is the name important

CM, offended: It’s the MOST important

Batman sighs and keeps the snake. Naturally he does a billion different tests but finds it’s a snake plush. One that’s handmade. That must have taken a lot of time and effort. Batman keeps George Snaking. No he will not admit that having the snake wrapped around his shoulders is soothing.

And it just spirals from there. Hal gets a Sparrow in a poncho, Plastic man gets a kangaroo wearing the nicest boots, Wonder Woman gets a duck in a fancy dress, Aquaman gets a penguin in swim shorts, J’onn gets a lion in a toga … Guy gets a clown fish.

It has no rhyme or reason. The only common thread is that it’s an animal with some sort of clothing. Cap just says that of course they have clothing, they are distinguished and perfectly civilised individuals.

It all come to a head when the League faces some threat, and they are weakened, only for their plushies to fucking teleport and turn into massive version of their respective animals and saves the day.

Hawkwoman, starring at her bear: I- Mrs Snuggles?

Mrs Snuggles: *shrugs*

Shayera: … I could have been getting bear hugs this whole time

Guy: *looks down* Flippers?

Flippers: *flops on the floor*

Guy: ….

Guy: how come the others get bigger version of their animals

The League of Superpets aren’t that worried about competition. They tried to recruit the plush’s, but turns out they are just lazy. Like, they will beat a butch if necessary, but won’t actively go looking for crime to solve. They act more of a home défense.

The only ones who knew about the sentient plushies where Ma and Pa Kent (their Octopus is extent helpful around the farm), Alfred Pennyworth (he’s the one who actually requested hamsters to help keep the manor clean and keep an eye on his family) and Damian who’s instinct immediacy told him his fennec fox is alive.

Oracle got a capybara. The Capybara is the most powerful one Billy has made, second to Tawny. I don’t make the rules.

Constantine is the only one who never got one. Billy is still salty about him trying to steal his powers. Plus he would prolly sell it.

[aamputation]

more SVSSS stuff for y'all, although this is new.

I've been toying with the idea of writing a little ditty I wrote a little of a thing, where SY gets dumped into PIDW as himself, just a random NPC with a dutiful little System just doing its best. this is my design for him, including his spiritual weapons. more details below the read more.

my other SVSSS art -> [ here ] & [ here ] shout out to adornedwithlight for the reblog banner

SY is definitely a fuerdai (second-gen rich kid) but he's not exactly the healthiest. He's smart and graduated college, and in this universe he's a celebrated published author, like in this post by @/princessdave (should I tag them? hurk idk, lemme know?). The rest of his family is famous in some way because of their wealth, but he's basically a hermit. He dresses well because he can afford to, but he'd happily live in rags and squalor so long as he has some food, a bed, and trash webnovels to read.

After he accidentally dies after cussing out Airplane's shitty cliffhanger ending, SY finds himself in a predicament. The System he first encounters is the System from canon: a rude bitch trying to put his soul into SQQ. SY nopes out of there, cites bodily autonomy, pitches an unholy fit, and somehow, someway, there's an error. Either SQQ didn't die during his Qi Deviation, or it's too early in the timeline and SY can't do any body snatching! Hallelujah!

The OG System, having lost its Host and overall purpose, discards SY like yesterday's news. He's left behind in the empty space, and is tentatively approached by this new System. It tells him that he can't go back to his body since he's dead as a doornail and offers to pop him into the PIDW universe. SY's millenial ass just goes "meh, fuck it, we ball" and he's thrown into PIDW as himself.

The new, Benevolent System accompanies SY, and attaches itself to him. It explains the B-Points system and promises to be helpful, immediately giving SY 100 starting B-Points and opening the System Store. SY takes full advantage, and uses his 100 points to the fullest in adjusting his body to survive and thrive in a Xianxia setting like PIDW. He then asks where in the plot he was dumped into the story, and the System tells him. (Haven't decided on whether to start pre-PIDW storyline, or at the SVSSS storyline start, either way, it works.)

Clearly a scholar more than anything else, SY immediately hyper-fixates on writing the best bestiaries across the PIDW-verse, so the fashion he buys from the System Store is all modest at best, although he'd splurged to get a Qiankun pouch. He'd also vehemently argued with his System to be able to justify keeping his hair as short as possible ("if it's too long it's just going to get in the way when I study monsters! I don't have the time to care for it!")

SY focused his cultivation on useful things, and the System responded accordingly. He gained skills with Alchemical Arts, Formation (Array) Arts, Talisman Arts, Beast Cultivation, and Martial Arts focused on the shortsword and the fan. The System manifested itself into SY's fan, to provide an easier interface during his travels, and his first mission led him to find his spiritual shortsword.

Yù Shòu Shī Rèn 驭兽师刃 — The Beastmaster's Blade

A legendary weapon created by a powerful cultivator who was both a master of beasts and a warrior. This cultivator forged the weapon after making a pact with a heavenly demonic beast, granting them the ability to call upon creatures for assistance in battle. The blade was crafted using beast materials—the fang of a Heavenly White Snow Dragon* and the claw of an Abyssal Flame Ghost Hound**—imbuing it with both spiritual and physical properties. * Tiān Bái Xuě Lóng (天白雪龙) ** Shēn Yuān Yàn Guǐ Quǎn (深渊焰鬼犬) In combat, the Beastmaster's Blade allows SY to summon beasts, control their movements, and enhance his own combat abilities by drawing power from these creatures. The blade has a secondary power, allowing SY to bond with a specific creature and form a partnership that amplifies both SY’s and the beast’s abilities. Depending on the bond strength, the blade can allow SY to temporarily transform into a more beast-like form, gaining enhanced senses, strength, or agility. It can also allow SY to merge his consciousness with a creature, enabling them to fight as one. The blade can also be used to command and direct beasts, issuing silent commands that the creatures obey, making SY an unstoppable force when surrounded by beasts in combat. The Beastmaster's Blade is a powerful and mystical weapon designed for a cultivator who can control, summon, and bond with beasts. Whether used to fight alongside beasts or to subdue them, the weapon emphasizes mastery over nature, the power of spiritual connection, and the balance between destruction and harmony. It is a weapon for those who understand that true power comes not only from force but from the deep bond between a cultivator and the natural world.

Rén Cí Xì Tǒng Shàn 仁慈系统扇 — Benevolent System Fan

The fan itself is an elegant yet powerful weapon. It is a spiritual and otherworldly artifact, not only physically capable of defending SY, but also carrying the ability to influence the world through the System’s applications. It allows SY to prevent conflicts or resolve disputes with missions and Scenario Pushers. The System helps SY grow and influence the world around him in an active way, molding what was once a garbage story with solid roots into something worth reading. Unlike other systems that may have less than benevolent intentions, SY’s System encourages him to grow emotionally and reach self-fulfillment while enhancing the story. Missions from the System push SY to develop in the PIDW world, and all outcomes result in some type of reward for SY’s efforts, whether it be with behind-the-scenes insights, improved cultivation abilities, stronger fan powers, or even a free-pass deus ex machina. In combat, the fan focuses more on subduing rather than killing unless strictly necessary, using gentle yet powerful techniques that leave enemies incapacitated, cured, or redeemed. The fan boasts the ability to change the direction of the flow of energy, as well as wind-based powers, representing the System and SY’s will to shift the flow of the disastrous PIDW world around him.

[sansaorgana]

— IN PERPETUITY (I)

PART TWO

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Maia!Reader

SUMMARY — Two most powerful Lieutenants of Morgoth and twisted lovers in private form a pact through cursed marriage to become their master's equal successors and rule Middle-earth together. He, however, has other plans and does not intend to share. She takes the matters into her own hands.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The idea for this fic showed up in my head while I was working on a different fic with a Maia!Reader, in which she is good and pure and all that. And that other story will be finished and posted, too, but with a delay because I focused on this one first. 🙈 The Reader in this fic is a Maia, so she changes her appearance like Sauron does but I am not describing any of her forms in any details. This fic will have a second part with Annatar!Sauron but in this part you get only Jack Lowden!Sauron because that ginger loser needs some love and attention as well. 😭🥰 The title of the fanfic and its vibe are inspired by the song Sugarbread by Soap&Skin. Special thanks to @dinsbeskar for giving me the most appreciated feedback before I posted this fic! 💕

WARNINGS — Reader is evil-evil with sadistic undertones, betrayal, murder, manipulation, gaslighting, blood drinking/pact/magic, mentions of Sauron being tortured by Morgoth, SMUT, sub!Sauron

WORD COUNT — 4,650

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

IN PERPETUITY (I)

It was no surprise to any of The Valar that you were one of the first to follow Morgoth. You always found it troublesome to obey the orders, to show respect or loyalty. As if you had been already created flawed, although no one dared to question Eru’s decisions.

The gods were aware, however, that Morgoth wanted you as his servant as well for he was a god like them. Therefore, they expected you to come back with your tail between your legs, begging for their forgiveness since they were much more merciful masters than he ever would be.

Nevertheless, that did not happen and you became one of the most loyal Lieutenants to the Dark Lord. You sometimes amazed your own self with the amount of cruelty you were able to inflict. Perhaps Eru himself had created you this way indeed – perhaps you were evil by his design. Dark creatures like Morgoth or you were needed to emphasise the lightness – cursed outcasts to show an example.

Morgoth did not even need to break you as much as others who had followed him. He did not feel the need to rebuild you or push you as far as most of his followers because it did not take much for you to become the very worst version of yourself.

You were the lucky one.

Mairon was not.

You could hear his whimpers and screams of pain as he was tortured. And you watched and watched in awe at him transforming with Morgoth's help into the man that would from now on be known as Sauron amongst many.

But to you he would remain Mairon. And Mairon watched you in awe, too.

He observed you with admiration and curiosity. He wanted to be more like you – so terrifyingly beautiful in your art of cruelty. And he was learning the craft from you.

Until, eventually, with your master's help and by his twisted design, Mairon became a Lieutenant as loyal and fierce as you.

And each time he failed at a task given to him by Morgoth, he would come to you first, seeking comfort and hoping you would ease your master before their encounter – like a child would come to their mother, fearing their father's anger.

Everyone knew Morgoth was gracing you with a special treatment. And even though it was unlikely he was able to feel any real affection towards you, many knew that you were the only Lieutenant of his that he actually cared about because you were the only one who abandoned The Valar thoroughly and wholly.

You did not care about him, though. The Valar were right – you did not enjoy being under him; under anyone. And you truly hated the destruction that he was causing as you could not understand the desire of becoming the King of ashes.

You wanted to be the Dark Lady yourself and you often fantasised what you would do if you were him. His god-like status did not intimidate you and you could not care less whether it was a blasphemy or not to imagine yourself as a Vala. No god had ever intimated you.

You were your own god and you wanted to rule over the world. To make it perfect and harmonious.

You became closer with Mairon when you sensed his heart was corrupted with the same thoughts and feelings. And while your Maiar bodies remained focused on the battles and schemes – so unfamiliar with the carnal desires of the flesh – as you spent more and more time together and he shared with you his dream of forging the very special and powerful Rings, you could feel the strange and odd desire growing within you.

One day, you gave in to them.

You heard his screams of pain throughout the fortress like the ones back in the day when Morgoth had been shaping him to his whim and design. Now he was punishing him for one of his failures and your master’s wrath was undeniable.

Mairon was one of his best Lieutenants, therefore Morgoth expected from him the most.

And when the punishment ended, Mairon found himself knocking weakly upon the doors of your chambers. You opened them and gasped at the state of his flesh. He was too weak to heal himself fully, allowing the bruises to form and cuts to bleed.

You welcomed him and laid him down in your bed before tangling your limbs with his; his face buried in your chest as your fingers brushed his ginger hair and gently teased his pointy ears.

"My poor Mairon," you whispered and leaned in to place a kiss upon his temple.

He looked up at you with devotion.

Unlike you, he had been once Eru’s perfect creation – Mairon had been pure in his past, worshipping the Valar like he had been designed to. The Valar were no more in his heart but the devotion remained and you were the subject of it.

"Let me ease your pain," you spoke softly and caressed his cheek with your fingers, making the small cuts disappear as bruises began to fade away. He closed his eyes and sighed out of relief. "Where else can I aid you, my Mairon?" You asked as his eyelids fluttered and opened.

"Everywhere," he breathed out. "I need you everywhere, my Lady."

The odd desire you had been fighting within you for a long time now apparently was not one-sided. Perhaps a Maia fallen was a Maia burdened with such humiliating and carnal needs.

You rolled him over onto his back as you sat astride him with a sparkle of excitement in your eyes. Maybe it was not a burden... Maybe it would be a new adventure, a new path to follow.

You got rid of his robes in a haste as his hands weakly caressed your thighs wherever they could reach under your dress. And once he was naked for you – under you – you felt like an animal, driven by the urges you could not stop.

That felt ungodly.

Your fingers curled on his chest, scratching the flesh and you watched your nails leave red trails upon his pale skin. Instead of healing him, you only added more to the pain but the pathetic whimpers leaving his mouth were not of suffering but of pleasure.

"Yours..." was all he gasped as your pupils widened even further. Yours... How good it felt to have him at your mercy.

You were like Morgoth himself now with Mairon laid out for you, eager for you to shape him the way you wished him to be.

And you loved to feel like Morgoth, to share at least a tiny bit of his power. The realisation was enough to make you feel the itch deep inside the heat of your core.

"Mine..." you nodded at Mairon and grasped his length to squeeze it, watching him wince as the flesh hardened under your touch.

You kept pumping him and observing all his sighs, eye rolls and the tremble of his thighs. His eyes filled with tears as he kept bravely staring up at you despite his vision getting blurry and hazy.

Your pace quickened and you used your free hand to caress his thighs gently as if you were trying to soothe them but it only caused them to tremble more while you watched his body giving in to your touch so eagerly and easily.

All of the sudden, just to tease him, you stopped your hand's rapid movements and squeezed the swollen tip. Mairon whined and bucked his hips desperately, the tip of his cock pulsating under your thumb. When you let go of him completely, he spilled himself with a groan and blushing cheeks as his hips kept rutting into nothing.

What a pathetic and yet delicious sight it was. You felt the wetness between your legs leaking down your thighs already.

“You're so fun to play with, my Mairon," you pointed out. "I wish our master allowed me to be the one responsible for your punishments."

"I wish that, too, my Lady," he breathed out, putting his hand on his chest, surprised to feel how fast his heart pounded.

"It is not over yet," you pouted. "You spoiled my fun by giving in to your desires so quickly."

You smirked and with one swift movement you took your dress off to throw it on the floor, revealing your naked form to him. You adjusted yourself and grabbed his cock once more, so swollen and sensitive, which caused Mairon to whimper. You lowered yourself slowly on his length, hissing at the new experience of feeling full.

Your eyes rolled all the way to the back as you threw your head and scratched Mairon's chest when you felt his cock hardening once more inside of you and brushing all the right spots that made you aware of pleasures of the flesh you had never even known of before.

"Divine," he breathed out and you rolled your hips slowly with a whine.

When you adjusted to the slightly burning feeling, your eyes opened with a sparkle of mischief as you began riding him – faster and faster with each given bounce, keeping your eye contact with him although his vision was too hazy to see you clearly.

It was like a trance and you lost track of time. The Maiar needed no rest, therefore it could have been days – maybe even weeks – spent on nothing else but fucking yourself on his cock, using him for your own, newlyfound pleasure; reaching your highs countless of times and beginning all over and over again until the matters much more important than indulging yourselves interrupted your blissful state.

"One day, there will be only the two of us," Mairon whispered into your ear as he watched you getting dressed in front of the mirror. "And we will not leave our chambers for a whole century."

"Would you leave your kingdom unattended for such a long time?" You raised an eyebrow at him. "I certainly would not," you added harshly and fixed your gown's corset one last time before leaving him behind inside your chambers as you walked out with your head held high and back straightened.

With an illusion of dignity that was supposed to hide the fact you had just spent long and endless days on worshipping Mairon’s flesh with nothing but pleasure and devotion as he had been only laying there and receiving and you had been the one to do all the work like he was the master you served.

After Morgoth's defeat, Mairon and you both were the only ones who could possibly become your master's successors for you were his most powerful Lieutenants.

Instead of starting a war between yourselves, you chose to create a pact of taking over Morgoth's legacy together as equals.

The holy bond of marriage was the most suitable way to seal this union for all eternity, especially when it seemed that you two shared the same goal and the same vision of healing Middle-earth and crafting it to fit your peaceful ideal.

The oath had nothing to do with the holy Valinor's customs. You used forbidden dark magic to bind you two together in perpetuity; mixing your black bloods together and drinking the cursed mixture from the cup as you exchanged the rings forged by Mairon himself with your aid; made of dark iron and with powerful spells engraved on them.

Adar was the master of your ceremony. He had stayed by your side after Morgoth's defeat and Mairon had promoted him to the rank of Lieutenant because you two needed smart and loyal people – especially if they had a whole army of the Orcs following their every order.

You could sense your marriage pact with Marion was making Adar a little uncomfortable. He was watching you carefully throughout the ceremony and also during the feast where he was sitting nearby.

Mairon's behaviour was surprising you a little. Never before he had been so open with the amount of his devotion towards you. And now, despite the audience of the Orcs and the fallen Elves, he was all over you, kissing your neck between the sweet nothings whispered into your pointed ear as his fingers intertwined with yours under the table to squeeze your hand.

He was like a dog, you thought, but you could not blame him. He had admired you from the very beginning of his service to Morgoth and now he had you as his spouse. You allowed him to enjoy himself because it was the day of your wedding.

For you, it was more of a transaction. You cared about Mairon to some extent and your flesh enjoyed to fuck his but there was nothing in this world that you would love more than power.

"My Lady, can we talk?" Adar approached you when you were left alone for a moment.

You looked up, surprised, but the seriousness of his expression was making it obvious that the matter was rather important.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" You asked him as you followed him to the dark corner of the room where you could hide in the shadows together.

"I am a bearer of the bad news, I am afraid," Adar started and you furrowed your brows.

"Did Elven armies find our fortress?" You asked.

"No. Not the bad news of this kind," he lowered his voice even more and he glanced at Mairon from the corner of his eye.

You looked at your husband, too. He was talking to some of the fallen Elves and his excitement was revealing that he probably discussed his plans for the future.

"Do continue," you nodded at Adar, looking back at him with curiosity.

"Mairon does not plan to share anything with you," he informed you. "He re-fired Morgoth's crown to fit himself."

Your blood turned cold at the revelation. Morgoth's crown was supposed to be melted and turned into two smaller but equal crowns. That was the deal between you and Mairon – two spouses, two crowns, two Rings, one kingdom.

You glanced once more at your husband. How innocent he seemed at the moment, how devoted to you. And yet…

Your own student outsmarted you in the art of cunning treachery, so it seemed. You gritted your teeth.

"How do you know?" You asked Adar just to make sure.

"I was there," he answered with a hint of smirk, knowing very well that his delay of bringing you the news created a new problem for you.

"And you are telling me this only now? After I am bound to him forever?" Your jaw clenched out of anger as you realised.

"I have been a loyal servant to your husband and it still pains me to betray him by telling you the truth but I must think of my children first and at this very feast I overheard his plans for the Uruk. I cannot let this happen," he revealed and you sighed. You knew what plans he was talking about.

Mairon had never considered the Orcs to be smart creatures, therefore he often was speaking freely and openly about what he planned to do with them or what he was thinking of them because he thought they would not even understand.

Perhaps they would not but their Lord Father would.

"I have never been fond of your children either, Adar," you reminded him.

"Yet you make a better ally than he. I know you can give up on enslaving the Uruk if I helped you to rule over Middle-earth with their army in return. Alone. A Queen with no King," he whispered and his tempting words sent a shiver down your spine.

After a very short moment of hesitation – which surprised you to exist at all – you nodded at Adar.

“Say no more,” you whispered.

And when Mairon informed you a few weeks after your wedding that he wanted to be crowned soon and that he wished for you to be the one to put Morgoth’s crown onto his head, you agreed with a sweet smile that should have made him realise how false it was. But he was too relieved with the fact that you seemed to have no problem at all with giving him the most important title, therefore he did not notice the coldness of your gaze.

"My dear," he kneeled in front of you while you were sitting on the edge of your bed and he held your hands softly in his as he leaned in to kiss them. "It brings me so much joy to know it will be you to lay the crown onto my head. I do not wish for anyone else to bless me for I would not be here if it was not for you."

"Indeed, my sweet Mairon," was all you said with a scolding gaze but, once again, he chose not to see it. “My King,” you added with irony – one more time the tone of your voice remained ignored.

Sometimes, he would use his illusions to fool even himself. And that very thing would turn out to be his demise.

“You will be my right hand, my Queen, my goddess,” he kept assuring you and kissing the palms of your hands as you kept gritting your teeth.

His right hand, he dared to say. You were supposed to be one body, one soul. His Queen and yet she would bear no crown – not the same as his at least. His goddess but his devotion was a lie. He loved power more than he loved you.

But you loved power more than you loved him as well, so it was only fair.

And how else could you repay for his betrayal if not with a betrayal in return?

You already had a whole plan formed with Adar and all you had to do now was to patiently wait for the day of the coronation. You truly hoped that Morgoth's crown was powerful enough to kill your husband, so he could exist no more and so would the bond of blood magic between you be broken forever.

You were wearing beautiful, matching robes with your husband and your only audience were the Orcs and Adar, who was holding Morgoth’s crown as Mairon decided to give a speech to his new army.

You couldn’t help yourself as you kept glancing at the re-fired and re-shaped crown with a bitter and sour expression. 

“Always, after a defeat… the shadow takes another shape and grows again. Morgoth is gone,” your husband announced to the Orcs. “Leaving us alone and disgraced. But today, a new age begins,” he added and you exchanged a meaningful look with Adar at the sight of Mairon’s fingers fidgeting nervously. “Under me. Your new master. Sauron.”

It should have been you. Giving the speech. Being crowned. And you would be. Soon. Very soon.

However, you loved the dramatics as much as your husband. And you would gladly allow him to make a fool out of himself first.

“And with a new age, I bring a new vision. A path to unconditional conquest. For I seek a new kind of power,” Mairon raised his right hand as he spoke, posing to be some sort of a sage sharing his wisdom. “Not of the flesh, but over flesh. A power of the unseen world. One we shall use to enslave the peoples of Middle-earth to our very will.”

The Orcs seemed to be content with his words and for that one thing you admired him, actually – the way he always knew what to say to make people follow him and be enamoured with his visions.

You knew that he did not care about what the Orcs wanted and the words he was using now were nothing but a temptation for them to obey his orders. But it was them he wanted enslaved, not the others. The others were meant to be healed.

“Many Orcs will die,” Mairon added and you felt Adar moving uncomfortably. The Orcs did not seem to be as happy as before and you could not blame them. You glanced at your husband with a raised eyebrow.

Sometimes, even the ones most graced with a gift of the golden speech, would say a sentence too many.

“But out of the chaos, we will forge a new and perfect order. No longer will we be hunted as the demons who broke Middle-earth, but rather worshipped as the saviours who finally healed it,” Mairon smiled, excitedly and you rolled your eyes. “By bringing its peoples together, to rule them all as one!” He raised his hands but he was overdoing himself, it was too much and the Orcs were not as stupid as he believed them to be.

You could sense their nervousness and you could hear their whispers in the Black Speech: “Sauron lies”.

It brought you lots of satisfaction as you smirked to yourself, however you had to hide that smile quickly because your husband’s eyes desperately seeked for yours. He needed your comfort and your encouragement, so pathetically. So desperate to prove his worth as he had always been.

You nodded at him with a sympathetic smile, playing a role of a dutiful and supportive wife.

“Doubt me at your peril,” he began once more but his voice slightly weakened as he did so and then he clasped his hands while his voice suddenly turned darker. He decided to use a different tactic. “You have nowhere else to turn. The Valar will never forgive you. Elves will never accept you,” he pointed out. “Men… Men will never look upon you with anything but horror and disgust,” he added with a hint of satisfaction and contempt.

Perhaps you were not as skilled as he was with your speeches but you knew that this was not the way to lure the Orcs. It was not the way to lure anyone. Mairon was losing control – even the fact his hands were clasped was only trying to hide how shaky they had become.

“A corrupted and ignoble race, worthy only to be haunted and slaughtered,” he continued as the Orcs began to growl. In that moment, you were glad you had your pact with Adar, because otherwise you would not feel safe amongst them.

Suddenly, one of the Orcs standing closest to Mairon attacked him with his blade, making an assassination attempt. Your husband swiftly defended himself and slit his throat, for which you were glad.

You would kill that Orc yourself if he maimed Mairon before you could lay your hands on him. He was yours to slaughter.

As the creature dropped down to his knees and continued choking on his own blood, you watched Mairon pull the Orc even closer and watch his suffering with the same fascinated expression as you had used to watch him when he had been reshaped by Morgoth.

And then, he finished the assassin off with his own blade being put into the Orc’s skull. Over and over again as Adar flinched at the sight of his son being treated this way and the Orcs kept growling in anger.

And you, in that moment – for a short while – actually considered following your husband like you had once followed Morgoth. To forgive him his betrayal and to play along the role of a dutiful wife.

His cruelty spurred you on as you watched and watched, refusing to look away until the Orc’s body hit the floor and Mairon threw away the blade to fix his ginger hair that had gotten messy from the fight.

You could sense his frustration. His blood was now flowing in your veins just like yours was flowing in his.

“I am your only future and my path is your only path!” He yelled at the Orcs, fury and rage filling him whole and causing the veins of his face to fill up and swell with his thick and black blood.

You cleared your throat, awkwardly. The admiration you had felt not even a minute earlier was all gone now and once again you felt ashamed of your husband.

Morgoth had never yelled desperately like that to get respect. He had never threatened – not so openly. His very presence had been enough to follow him out of fear.

“Who among you dare say otherwise?” Mairon asked, more calmly now.

Soon, he would find out who exactly dared.

But so far, he still trusted you. He turned his head around and nodded at you, his eyes filled with faith.

You nodded back and took Morgoth’s crown from Adar’s hands. It was heavy and powerful as its dark magic vibrated from it all throughout your body when you carried it towards the crowd.

The Orcs were snarling at you when you raised your hands with the crown, not pleased at all that you were about to lay it upon your husband’s head.

“All Hail, Lord Sauron!” Adar exclaimed in the Black Speech. “The New Dark Lord.”

The Orcs hesitated but they followed what their Lord Father said.

“All hail!” They chanted and you walked away to your husband, who had just kneeled for you.

Like in the old days, before all the battles Morgoth had been sending him to. Mairon would kneel and you would bless him with your sword.

You raised your hands once more as a thrill of excitement went through your body. Mairon looked up at you through the crown placed above his head and you could spot the hint of doubt. Your bond worked both ways and he could sense something disturbing about you but you soothed him with a soft and fake smile.

Unsurely, he lowered his head once more and looked down, waiting for you to grace his head with the burden of the crown.

And the crown was a burden indeed. So full of dark and powerful magic that you knew already it was most certainly enough to kill a spirit like your husband.

You turned it around in a swift movement and lowered it with all your strength to stab him in the back of his neck as the crown’s poison infected his veins and made him move back out of the sudden pain.

You took the crown away from him and took a few steps back to stand next to Adar as the Orcs began screaming and approaching you all. Mairon’s eyes were full of surprise and disappointment and he kept them only on you as you graced him with the same soft smile you had been giving him for weeks now; for him to finally realise how false it was all this time.

“You could have kept your promise, my pet,” you told him in the Quenya language.

Your words angered him and he tried to stand up with his weakened limbs to fight you but in that very moment a group of Orcs attacked him all at once, stabbing his flesh continuously as you watched. He was making an attempt to fight them back and for the state he was in, he was truly doing well, but they were too many and he was alone.

And even if some part of you would truly mourn for your husband, the dark item in your hand with his blood dripping down on the floor from its iron spikes was enough to bring your mind back on the right path.

And as the Orcs kept stabbing his body, which was laying now in the puddle of dark and sticky blood, you raised the crown once more and put it on your own head, feeling Mairon’s blood dripping from it onto your face.

You licked your lips to get the taste. For the one last time you tasted him as you smirked.

You turned your head around to nod at Adar and he nodded back at you.

All hail the New Dark Lady.

MASTERLIST

[bloodmoonmary]

𓉳 i think we are like fire and water . . . the revelation came not through confession, but through the walls themselves—a slow seepage of presence like blood through lace, an insistent, whispering truth that could no longer be contained by plaster and time. mary had been three months in the crumbling new orleans townhouse with lestat and louis, three months of their careful tutelage in the vampire arts, their lessons in hunger and restraint, their murmured warnings about the dangers of sunlight and the seduction of mortal hearts, when she first detected the other inhabitant, a shadow that moved just beyond the edges of her perception. not in reflections (though sometimes the mirrors wept tarnished silver, their surfaces rippling as if stirred by unseen hands), not in words (though the house occasionally whispered in a voice too high and sweet to belong to either of her guardians, a voice that curled around her thoughts like smoke), but in the way her own fury began to resonate against unseen surfaces, her rage and confusion striking some hidden chord in the air, reverberating through the halls and returning to her amplified, clarified, as if the very bones of the house were shaping her emotions into something sharper, darker, more deliberate—a language she was only beginning to understand.

she met claudia properly during the first uncontrolled astral projection—an event precipitated by one of those volcanic arguments with lestat that left her throat raw with unshed screams. the moment her spiritual form tore free from flesh, she found herself standing in a nightmare parody of a nursery, where everything—the four-poster bed, the escritoire, even the crystal decanter of blood on the side table—had been shrunk to dollhouse proportions. and at the room's heart, wreathed in the scent of rosewater and old violence, stood the child.

"you smell like them," said claudia without turning. her hands, those terrible adult hands on a teen’s body, were braiding the hair of a porcelain doll. "but you burn differently."

mary understood immediately why lestat and louis had withheld this history. here was their original sin given form—not a ghost, but a reverberation, an eternal echo of the first time they had tried to fashion a companion from mortal clay. claudia's very existence was a mirror held up to mary's own unnatural state, though their reflections differed crucially: where claudia had been trapped forever in the prison of a fourteen-year-old's body, mary had been frozen at the precipice of womanhood; where claudia's makers had acted from selfish whimsy, mary's transformation had been a calculated design.

you can walk on sun? yes, i can. how about you? the sun doesn’t like me.

their communion occurred without the clumsy medium of speech. claudia's mind, when she permitted the touch, was a reliquary of exquisite torment—centuries of rage compressed into diamond-hard facets. mary showed her in return the weight of being a medici vampire, the gilded cage of expectations that came with blood both royal and damned. their mutual recognition was instantaneous: two creatures who should never have been, forged by selfish love into eternal weapons.

"you could stay," claudia murmured once, her small fingers tracing the luminous cord tethering mary to the living world. "the longer you're here, the thinner it grows." there was no malice in the observation, only the clinical curiosity of one who had studied the mechanisms of damnation for two hundred years.

mary watched their reflections warp in the nursery's funhouse mirrors. "and leave them to their guilt? too merciful." she pressed a phantom hand to claudia's chest, where no heartbeat stirred. "besides—someone must remember you properly."

their bond became the secret at the heart of mary's undeath—a pact sealed not in blood but in perfect, furious understanding. when lestat finally spoke of claudia months later (his voice cracking over the name like thin ice), mary merely nodded, her eyes gone strangely bright. that night, in the astral nursery, claudia laughed her broken-music-box laugh.

"now you see," she said, "why they call it the damned life."

mary touched the vampire's cheek. "we'll write our own scripture."

and in the blood-warm dark between worlds, two monsters who should never have been born clasped hands—the gilded and the damned, rewriting their curse by moonlight.

she matches my freak!!! love you my sister my companion my everything.

[dungeon-strugglers]

✨New item!✨ Invoker’s Band Ring, uncommon (requires attunement)

The detailing on this ring slowly rearranges itself into myriad patterns.

While wearing this ring, you gain the benefit of one Eldritch Invocation from the warlock class. You can choose the invocation the first time you attune to the ring. Your spellcasting ability for the invocation is Intelligence, Wisdom, or Charisma (choose when you attune). If the invocation has a prerequisite of any kind, you can choose that invocation only if you're a warlock who meets the prerequisite. If the invocation grants a spell that requires a warlock spell slot to use, you can cast it once per long rest without expending a spell slot instead. 

Curse. By attuning to this ring, you have agreed to a minor pact with an otherworldly being. You can only benefit from this ring if you satisfy the whims of your patron, in exchange for their gift. The patron linked to this ring is chosen by the GM or rolled randomly on the table below. You can end attunement to this ring with any spell that can remove curses, which also ends the pact. The gem on your ring reflects the mood of your patron, changing color in response to your actions. Occasionally, the patterning on the ring’s surface will arrange itself into writing that explicitly communicates your patron’s desires.  Otherworldly Patrons:

Demented Devil: Your devilish patron torments you. Once per day, you have disadvantage on a single ability check, attack, or saving throw (chosen by the GM).

Fickle Fey: Your fey patron delights in your fumbles. Whenever you roll a 1 on an attack or Dexterity saving throw, you fall prone. 

Charitable Celestial: Your celestial patron abhors wicked deeds. You have disadvantage on attacks against good-aligned creatures. 

Leaching Lich: Your undead patron is leaching your life essence. Whenever you regain hit points from a spell, the amount you regain is halved.

Greedy Genie: The genie you serve demands a golden tithe. Each time you finish a long rest, 10 gp from your personal wealth vanishes.

Ominous Old One: You are plagued with horrible nightmares. Each time you attempt to take a long rest, you must first succeed on a DC 10 Wisdom saving throw or gain no benefit from the rest.

Invoker’s Bands allow the wearer to draw power from an otherworldly being that either crafted the ring or was bound to it somehow. Be careful, this power often comes with a hidden cost. - 🖌🎨 Like our work? Consider supporting us on Patreon and gain access to the hi-resolution art for over 200 magic items, printable item cards and card packs, beautiful creature art and stat blocks, and setting pdfs with narrative hooks and unique lore!🧙‍♂️ Thank you so much for your support! 💖

📜 Credit. Art and design by us: the Dungeon Strugglers. Please credit us if you repost elsewhere.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Bound By Blood

Being on your period was already a pain as it is, but accidentally binding yourself to a demon with a menstrual pad was a real cherry on top.

demon!Daemon Targaryen x Reader x bf!Aemond Targaryen | 2k+| cw: fem!reader, modern au, menstruation and its symptoms (duh), bloody depictions, crack fic, dumbass shenanigans, internet translated high Valyrian, typos, etc.

A/N: after reading @happilyhertale's period fic and @lady-phasma's period fic, i remembered a tumblr post i saw a long time ago about how napkins have really pretty designs for no reason cuz ur gonna get blood all over it anyway. as tumblr posts do, it spiraled and someone likened the designs to like a pentagram then someone was like u could accidentally summon a demon, thus this. i really did try to find it but alas i could not

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @ceoofyearning

@targaryenmoony @risefallrise @thebullship @sa3losa @pendragora @sloanexx

If you've ever had a hard time with your period, please consider donating €5 to Nour's GoFundMe, as the people in Palestine do not have access to any sort of feminine hygiene products; help her and her family evacuate.

"Lovie?"

"Yeah?"

I put my phone on loud speaker and place it on the side of the sink, "did I tell you to buy macadamia chocolates?"

"... no. I'll get you some."

"And something salty," I sit on the toilet and open my pad packet. I peel the red wrapper off.

"Mmm... crisps?"

"Yeah, the pink one."

"Alright. Anything else, love?"

I change the napkin on my underwear before replying, "mmm... oh! Please read the packaging. I want pads with wings, Aemond, with wings."

"Right. Copy, copy. With wings."

I pull my shorts up and flush the toilet, "thank you, love."

"Mmm. Love you. Bye."

"Bye, love. I love you."

The call ends and I wrap my used napkin in the wrapper of my new pad, rolling it up, and throwing it out. I grab my phone and walk back to my bed.

I huff and get under the sheets, petting the black cat asleep on top of it. Vhagar wags her tail once and I grab my laptop, continuing my binge session.

I wince when I feel a dull pain in my uterus. I pause my show and lean into my pillow, riding out the discomfort.

I moan and begin to heave. My eye twitches at the stabbing sensation. I slowly get out of bed, annoyed by the gush of blood I feel when I move. I make my way to my kitchen and grip on the counter as I prepare a kettle for some tea.

"Stop hating me cause I'm not pregnant," I hiss at my uterus as the pain continues.

I push my weight onto the counter top as I reach for a mug and a tea bag. I huff and screw my eyes. Once the pain subsides enough, I grab my kettle and turn, putting it on the stove. Once the fire is lit, I turn back to grab my mug and place the tea bag in my mug.

Suddenly, the room is thick, the atmosphere is heavy, and there is an inexplicable feeling of dread in my stomach. I feel my body warm and the hairs at the back of my neck raise, and it was not because of my period.

"Iksis ziry iā rūs jaelā?" Is it a baby you want?

I gasp and snap back, pulling my mug to my chest. My eyes widen and my heart leaps into my throat as I behold a towering figure covered in blood. Its body is barely contained in the room; its long neck coils downward to peer at me and its wings are cramped together behind itself. It's as though all the blood in my body drains.

The dragon-like creature chuckles deeply, his golden eyes sparkle, "gaoman jorrāelagon se yknagon hen zūgagon," I do love the smell of fear. It reaches out and delicately scratches its talons on my neck, "but I would not frighten you to death before completing our pact, devoted."

My body is frozen cold in fear as he pulls away. Slowly, its body morphs into a man. The reptilian features and glistening scales where replaced by long, silver hair and plump, smirking lips, all still drenched in blood. His expression mischievous and expectant.

"Ask of me, and see the beauty in thine blood offering to Daemon, The Rogue Prince."

Through barely a breath, in the most strained of voices, I mutter, "w h a t ?"

A rich chuckle bubbles out of his curved lips, "oh, I do loathe the coy and simple-minded. If you wish to amuse me, flatter me. Do not play dumb."

I slowly try to maneuver away from him, "I-" I whisper under sharp breaths, "I don't know what you mean-"

In a rush of either confidence or lunacy, I sprint away from him and run back into the bedroom. I scream and halt in my spot when I collide with the same being's chest.

I feel blood stick to me as I recoil and drop to the floor at the impact. The creature looks down on me and lifts his chin, "what's that then?"

Daemon points to the floor, causing me to look and see nothing but the panels.

Just then, Vhagar awakes and begins to go feral. She hisses loudly at the man, and I scramble to my feet, trying to get to her and calm her down, fearing he blood bathed being would kill her.

Remarkably, it seems I should actually do the opposite as the demon is deterred by Vhagar. He steps back and lowers his gaze. He chuckles dryly as I jump on the bed, going behind Vhagar.

"What is this trickery?"

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

He scoffs and I swear his eyes are set ablaze, "I am bound by my sigil, woman, and I smell the blood on it."

My face morphs into bewilderment, "I DID NOT MAKE A BLOOD SACRIFICE-"

"Where is your summoning circle then!" he demands.

Vhagar hisses at his tone, her fur prickling as Daemon steps forward. He stills and draws in a deep breath. I swear his eyes go red for a second.

He points again, this time at me, "your legs."

My eyes widen preternaturally.

"My blood altar is between your thighs."

Meanwhile, Aemond was on the bus when he received a call.

He picks it up, "hel-"

"THERE'S A-" he pulls his phone away from his ear, "-DEMON IN OUR HOME! AEMOND-"

Aemond knits his brows tightly in concern at the sound of sobbing. He pulls his groceries closer to his chest, "honey, what do me--"

"THERE'S A DEMON IN OUR- VHAGAR NO--"

Aemond's heart drops at the sound of the commotion from the other end of the call. He hears cat yowling and objects crashing. He stiffens and speaks as calmly as possible, "I'm coming home. I'm almost there. Can you hear me, I-" the call ends.

By the time he gets home, his defenses are up. The ruckus from the inside is audible from outside the apartment. He holds his groceries in one hand and opens the door, warily entering. He grabs the long purple umbrella by the rack and closes the door soundlessly. He stalks inside, clenching his jaw at the sudden silence.

He surveys the place and sees the mess, yet no soul was present. He places the groceries on the kitchen top and creeps into the bedroom.

The door was already open, but, still, there was no one.

He freezes when Vhagar hisses. He lifts his gaze upon the black, senior cat sat at the top of the closet, looking into space with her fur raised.

"Aemond?!"

Aemond lowers his gaze.

"NO, DON'T HURT HIM!" I scream from inside the closet.

Aemond grips the umbrella and looks around the room. Vhagar hisses again.

He looks at his cat then the closet door.

"AEMOND- NO-- I'M PULLING YOU IN-"

Without another word, I leap out of the closet and grab Aemond, yanking him inside. I immediately shut the doors and begin to hyperventilate.

"What's happening? What's going on?" he asks, clutching my cheeks.

I whine and grip his wrists in distress. I whisper, "Vhagar's keeping us safe."

Aemond's nostrils flare, "what's happening? What's wrong?"

I shake my head and shudder, "there's a demon--"

"You know I can hear you right?"

I squeal, making Aemond tense and tighten his grip on me. I hear Vhagar hiss from above the closet.

Without much thought, Aemond pushes the doors open and holds his umbrella like a weapon.

I scream and pull him back when I hear sinister laughtera, "AEMOND, NO!"

Aemond claims an offensive stance, ready to bat his umbrella at whomever was in front of him, and yet there was no one. My breath hitches as I anticipate Daemon to jump us both, but he doesn't.

With furrowed brows, the man looks over to me, "baby, there's no o-"

Aemond yelps as I rush out of the closet and drag him out of the bedroom with me. We make our way to the kitchen, and I immediately rummage through the groceries, grabbing the pack of pads.

"Honey, what was it exactly that you-" Aemond cuts himself off as he watches me run out of the room, heading to the bathroom.

Immediately, I pull my shorts down and replace my bloody pad. I stare at the menstrual blood on the white napkin, realizing only now that there was, in fact, a sigil of a three headed dragon on the surface.

"There is it."

I scream. I look up at the bloody Daemon staring back at me, smirking with crossed arms.

I hear Aemond run towards the bathroom door. He calls out my name in concern.

I rip my used napkin off my underwear and chuck it to the demon. I scream once more when he manifests beside me, avoiding my assault.

"Unsanitary," Daemon clicks his tongue.

Aemond bangs on the door, "what's going on? Do you need any help?"

I sidestep away from Daemon and hurriedly replace my pad.

Aemond calls out my name as he knocks.

Daemon turns to the door, lips curling in annoyance, "I will slay him if he enters."

My eyes widen. It was only then I realized there was a sword hanging upon his hip. I feel sick.

Aemonds sounds agitated, "I'm coming insi-"

"NO!" I rip my pants up and run to the door. I shove Aemond back the moment I can. I squeeze myself out of the small opening and I push him back until he finally repels me and grabs my arms. Aemond and I are in the kitchen by then.

He calls out my name and grabs my cheeks. His face is marked by worry.

I panic, "wait, where's Vhagar?"

"She's probably just-"

"DID HE KILL VHAGAR-"

"Look at me!"

I stare at him with wide, watery eyes. I whimper through a broken voice, "Vhagar was the only thing keeping me safe."

"From the demon?" Aemond asks carefully, swiping my tears with his thumbs.

"Please-" I choke out, "-believe me, I-"

"I believe you, darling," he strokes my hair. He pulls away and grabs the salt jar on the counter. He shows me the container before pouring some in his hand.

I raise my brows as he presents me the salt in his cupped palm.

Aemond speaks calmly, "if I see that fucker, I'll-"

"You'll what?"

Aemond shrieks and chucks the salt behind me. In the same terrified manner, I squeal and run behind Aemond.

The demon groans, "ao doru-borto qogralbar!" You stupid fuck!

Aemond pushes me behind him as he watches the blood covered man rub his eyes. He almost, out of instinct, chucked the whole jar at him, but he was glad he didn't. He pours a salt circle on the floor.

Aemond pulls me into his chest and begins to chant, "qrīdrughagon lēda ao!" Away with you!

Daemon looks up at us with a furious expression. His rage is quelled but when he sees the ground which we stood. His red eyes widen as he looks up at me, as if in disbelief of what he was seeing.

I tug on Aemond's shirt with agitation, "is this circle gonna keep us-"

"QRĪDRUGHAGON LĒDA AO!" Aemond shouts.

Daemon's eye twitches, "who is this imbecile you seek refuge in?"

"Don't answer it! Don't give him my name," Aemond says as he fishes something in his pocket.

"You act as though I know not your name is Aemond, imbecile."

"Aemond, I really think we-"

"Ignore him," says Aemond as he pulls out his phone.

Daemon chuckles darkly, "oh... how sweet you think such a thing is possible.

I cling tightly onto Aemond as he pulls out his phone. I whimper, "is now really the time?!"

"I'm calling Aegon," Aemond replies, placing his phone to his ear.

"What?!"

"He knows how to do an exorcism."

"?!?!?"

"You dare," Daemon yells, "think that I-"

"He was recruited in a cult once."

"-would be easily cast out by m-"

"QRĪDRUGHAGON LĒDA AO!"

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider donating €5 to Nour's GoFundMe so that she and her family can evacuate and experience the luxury of reading fics in the safety of their homes.

[millylotus]

Secret Son John Constantine

Inspired by @herbatahleb's funny little fanart

As the title says The Everlasting Trio have a child and his name is John “Hellblazer” Constantine

He’s making his parents proud

John was born of a kind of soul blood pact between the three, he got his blonde hair from Sam, his eyes from Tucker, and his overall appearance is a mix of the three of them

John grew up to follow in Tucker & Sam’s footsteps of magic, he’s a born sorcerer unlike them though

His relationship with his parents is generally good, but because of how he treats his soul his relationship with Danny has deteriorated

They argue about this alot, John’s soul is his own and what he does with it really isn’t any of Danny’s business, Danny has the concerned parent vibes of the parent of a sex worker, their fears are founded but they need to trust their kid to know how to take care of themselves

John hates visiting home because of it, Dani will sometimes drag him back home for holidays but he doesn’t stay long

Sam & Tucker try to get them to get along but it isn’t really working

Then one day Danny gets accidentally summoned by the Justice League

---

John doesn’t recognize the summoning circle as it buzzes to life, he doesn’t know what type of creature or being will pop out. If they’re good or bad, or even merciful but he knows they’re strong from the intricate design or the circle. So he recklessly jumps forward, pushing Hal out of the binding circle so the Lantern isn’t bound to the summoned being.

John takes the binding with a scream of pain, feeling electricity shoot up his spine.

He can hear the Leaguers shouting his name, he’s vaguely aware of Jordan supporting him. But what he hears clearest was the voice of a man he most despised in the world at the moment.

“Really John? You didn’t have to do that, he would have been fine.”

John closes his eyes tight and breaths deep, he looks up to the voice and looks into the toxic green eyes as they met his own brown ones.

“Good to see you too Father.”

The green eyed being rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, “Yes, hello Son. It’s great to see you again as well.”

The League had only heard a few things about John Constantine’s family. They knew he had three parents who’re polyamouros, that he has an older sister and an aunt. Besides that all they have are silent grumblings about “Father won’t like this” when he does something risky.

But to see a young filipino man probably no older than twenty, floating over John “Hellblazer” Constantine and looking down on him like a disappointed parent. It was jarring.

Wonder Woman was the first to say anything “John, could you perhaps explain what just happened?”

John and his father broke their intense eye contact to look at Diana, who barely flinched at the sudden attention, the others behind her weren’t so fearless.

Constantine sighed carefully stepping away from Hal, “This is my Father.”

Hal snorted, “Yeah we got that man.”

“Yes John, introduce me to your friends here.”

---

Danny is generally snarky when meeting the League, he makes some weird comments about John hanging out with superheroes, that could be construed as rude

The others are kinda pestering John about who his dad even is, while John is more focused on getting the fucking bind removed

He eventually has to ask Zatanna for help

Danny for the most part is hanging out with the League while John’s working

Someone calls him Mr.Constantine and Danny quickly corrects them saying that isn’t his last name

Which sparks a whole conversation of John’s last name, which Danny isn’t about to say cause real names have power and such

Danny sees John working closely with Zatanna and asks if he’s with her or not, John is beyond embarrassed and even worse is when Danny brings up King Shark, mentioning that Dani really liked him too

John snarks back that then King Shark should have just gone for her instead of him since Danny was so adamant about King Shark being such a great son-in-law

Things get awkward quick as the two snark back at each other while everyone else realizes where John gets it from

It almost becomes a screaming match before the League has to break it up before they go to far

John ends up just calling Sam & Tucker so they can just break the binding

It’s a tense few minutes before they get there, and the League just kinda has to sit there as father & son fume not looking at each other

When Tucker & Sam get there they see the two not wanting to talk to each other at all

Leaguers are not reeling at seeing John’s other parents who he also vaguely looks like but also not

As the two work on the binding John & Danny are being passive aggressive

The two decide that John & Danny need to spend some time together to get this shit figured out

---

Sam : Alright that’s it *Sam & Tucker stop working, Sam has her head in her hands and Tucker is leaning far back* Danny : What? John : I’m sorry? Tucker : You two have been fighting for far to long, you’ve probably forgotten why Danny : I know exactly why, it’s because John doesn’t know how to treat his soul right! John : By The Ancients! You’re still on about that Danny : Of course! Sam : Will you both just SHUT UP! *Silence* Sam : We’re not breaking the binding, you two are going to stay stuck together Danny : Sammy! John : Mama, Papa. Please don’t do this! Tucker : Nuh-uh, this happening, you two are getting a some father-son bonding time for the week! John *distressed*: Why! You can’t just– it’s not fair! *Sam & Tucker loosen up a bit, looking to John softly* Sam : Baby it’s alright, we’re not trying to punish you we just want you & your father to actually talk things through Danny : It feels like your punishing me Tucker : You are his father, you will be the civil one in this so don’t you fucking dare get any lip *Danny goes silent* Sam *sigh* : We’ll be leaving now Tucker : Good look you two The two leave, then silence Danny : Do you still have that demon house of yours? John *sigh* : Yeah I’ll show you a room for your stay

---

Most of the story is really just about John & Danny learning to get along again

Danny has to finally trust his kid to know what he’s doing with his own body

And John realising that his dad just wants to keep him safe & stuff

By the end of their basically grounding the two have begun to mend their relationship, Danny promises to come over and visit along with inviting John back home to the zone when he feels like

I've been meaning to post this for awhile now & it's just been sitting in my drafts until I finally remembered it.

Hope you liked is! :]

Main Story Index [It's kinda messy but it's got links to most everything]

[forestclan-clangen]

Lore Dive: The Four Lost Clans

ForestClan wasn't always the only Clan surrounding the vast territory around what humans call Moonlight Acres. Many generations ago, five Clans coexisted, surrounded around the lake with their own cultures, hunting grounds and goods to share. Unfortunately, many generations ago, the five Clans were reduced to one. In the human year 1946, a pact was broken between a human and the Iris, and the betrayal resulted in the monstrous Wretch. The creature stumbled through the massive territory, trampling and decimating every single camp that housed the Clans.

ForestClan was the last Clan still standing, and it became asylum for any former Clan cats that escaped the Wretch. However, there were not enough cats from the remaining Clans to rebuild, and as a result, their cultures and histories could only be remembered through ForestClan. Even then, the memory of their existence remained tenuous - especially with leaders like Lakestar refusing to designate official history keepers. In modern-day ForestClan, cats like Redstar and Hopechase have held onto their history and memory, and they hope to reteach this lost knowledge to new members.

This lore dive will go over each of the four lost Clans, and what modern ForestClan can remember of them.

LAKECLAN

LakeClan used to be a Clan of cats very adapted to swimming and fishing around the rocky beach of the lake. Their territory used to be where the Moonlight Acres Camp is expanded to now, neighbouring the territories of ForestClan and MountainClan.

It was assumed that LakeClan cats were very well fed for most of the year, as they could successfully hunt some of the biggest fish in the lake and rivers. Muskellunge were very dangerous, but also very large. Much like ForestClan could hunt sick does and fawns, LakeClan would form massive hunting patrols to lure, trap and catch these fish. Catching a single, matured muskie could feed their entire Clan for several weeks. There's an assumption that LakeClan could've potentially made pots or fishing traps to catch crayfish or minnows, but they haven't found any evidence of such tools.

There's evidence suggesting that LakeClan hunted, or at least stalked the nests of aquatic birds like ducks, herons and geese, however. ForestClan doesn't hunt ducks - but they have to know that their feathers are hydrophobic from somewhere, right? A material that repels water would be extremely useful for all Clans, and given LakeClan's proximity to the lake, they're the ones most likely to have discovered this fact, and traded any collected feathers with other Clans.

Given that leafbares were extremely cold, however, their normal sources of prey would be unattainable with the ice freezing the lake and rivers. However, LakeClan were particularly known for their lack of fear towards Twolegs. Since they neighboured so close to the campgrounds, it wasn't unheard of for Twolegs to believe that they must be local mousers for their food storage or cabins, and they especially took advantage of this during cold seasons. Unfortunately, this also caused them to get into scuffles with the actual mousers that belonged to Twolegs.

LakeClan was assumed to predominantly trade seafood, aquatic plants, and duck feathers.

MOUNTAINCLAN

MountainClan used to live on the rocky cliff sides by the mountains across from ForestClan, on the other side of the lake. They were known for their agility, strong paws, and broad shoulders. Out of everything they managed to preserve about MountainClan, it was, of all things, a cultural joke shared among the remaining clans: MountainClan's greatest exports were rocks, and attractive toms. They were neighbours with LakeClan and FieldClan.

MountainClan's primary source of prey were birds. Given that the mountain had prime nesting cliffs, it's assumed that eggs might've also been a good part of their diet. Their territory also contained several rivers that carried melted ice and snow from the mountain down into the lake, so during certain seasons, trout might've been a hearty catch that would feed them for a while.

MountainClan were known for their dangerous techniques to hunt large birds of prey like eagles. Using one of them as bait, they would stand out in the open while their clanmates would hide behind rocks and stones. When the shadow of a bird would descend, the cats would leap and deliver killing bites. ForestClan gawks at this method of willingly allowing oneself to be a target, but allegedly, that's what they did - and it was effective. They were courageous in the face of danger for the sake of keeping their Clan fed.

MountainClan was also home to primitive stonemasons, managing to create heavy stones that were capable of being piled neatly together, creating stable walls. Their only flaw was their inability to find something like cement or clay to bind the bricks together. It was this very overconfidence that nothing could move the stones that resulted in a very powerful Wretch toppling them with a strong push.

Still, these stones were considered to be good wind protection, and were often traded with to provide some insulation. ForestClan has no clue if the preserved joke has any historical merit - but it does make one curious as to whether cross-clan relationships or honor sires with toms from MountainClan were a frequent-enough occurrence.

FIELDCLAN

FieldClan lived in the tall, grassy plains found in the shadow of the nearby mountain, neighbouring next to MountainClan and MarshClan. They were known for their silent stalking and swift running, carving out hunting paths for themselves amongst the rows of tall grass and wild grain. If ForestClan has preserved anything about FieldClan, it was their abundance of crafted goods, and excellent artisans.

Given the flatland, it's assumed that FieldClan hunted rabbits, hares, and wild rodents that made their dens around the area. They had particular conflicts with owls, especially during the winter when they would compete for mice. But when all else failed, FieldClan had a unique skill that was seen as the envy of most Clans - the ability to make breads out of the wild grains found in the fields. ForestClan does not have any idea if FieldClan shared this knowledge, but if they did, ForestClan has lost it, much to their chagrin.

FieldClan was also known for their hay and their lattices of dried grasses, weaving thin curtains and carpets made of dry material. Luckily, ForestClan has preserved that knowledge, incorporating it into their everyday works - just substituting it with boiled and dried out roots, bulrush leaves, vines, and whatever long grasses they can get a hold of. Their methods of weaving were quite effective at making more secure ropes as well.

One thing ForestClan has preserved are the stories of the Deep Root entities before the Wretch appeared. Certainly, there were always the stray Woodcrawler and Fake Twoleg - their attacks were considered tragedies, like a bear attack. But FieldClan…was different. Every greenleaf…they would report seeing strange lights in the sky, floating above the grasses. ForestClan doesn't know if FieldClan ever concerned themselves with these, or experienced any trouble.

But in the modern-day, sometimes, late at night, if they find a view of the whole lake and look out towards FieldClan's former territory, they can see them. At first, they thought it was Luring Lights. Bright lures hovering above Woodcrawler dens.

But Luring Lights don't move. And these did. There's only one creature that could match this description. ForestClan doesn't like talking about it. They wonder how long FieldClan kept this secret. Were they scared? How did they hide from them? Did they know they lived above a Garden? Questions that will never be answered.

MARSHCLAN

MarshClan was viewed as the most eccentric and curious Clan out of the five, living in the wetlands that acted as a bridging point between FieldClan, the lake, and south of ForestClan. Most of the Clans seemed to regard MarshClan with perpetual confusion, enough that this stereotype survived into the present. It wasn't that they were bad at what they did - quite the contrary. They had no qualms delving into swamps and dredging up wildlife and herbs that the other Clans had no access to. To ForestClan, this painted an image of a Clan that was very, very muddy, all the time, and they had no issues appearing as such as long as they could brag about all the cool stuff they found.

Given how deep the wetlands and vernal pools could become, MarshClan fed themselves on aquatic life like LakeClan, with some added variety. Hunting the bass from ponds, catching frogs, stealing the eggs from nesting waterfowl - MarshClan were quite clever and made use of the fact that their waters were shallow enough to create puddles and banks that small birds would bathe in. When the water dried up or froze over in the winter, MarshClan struggled a little more than other Clans, relying on trading and good relationships to get them through harder times.

And who wouldn't want to stay on good terms with MarshClan? There were some medicinal herbs that could only be found in the trenches of the wetlands, and only a MarshClan cat was happy enough to walk through neck-deep swamp water to grab them. Medicine cats must've especially relied on them for specific stocks of herbs, as ForestClan doesn't have any recorded knowledge of cross-clan conflicts involving them. There must've been some scuffles, but MarshClan seemed impenetrable. What cat wants to launch an attack into a swamp, succeed at doing so, and then be immediately sanctioned from vital herbs that they can't retrieve themselves? Clerics must've had very harsh words for any leader who dared to try, and thankfully, MarshClan never asked for much in return during the cold seasons.

In addition to herbs, they also dabbled in basic construction with materials traded with ForestClan and FieldClan. To this day, if one were to wander far enough, one could still see the destroyed remains of makeshift bridges and wooden perching points sticking out from the middle of waterways.

[inkeyjay]

Your lord asks for blood, are thou willing to spill it? 🩸

This is my preview for Book of Devotion, a fanzine about deities and their devotees. And it is now LIVE on kickstarter!

If you like ttrpg's like dnd, religion based worldbuilding and sick character and creature design, this is your anthology. I had the honor to be a part of it alongside super talented writers and artists. You might remember Tome of Pacts, well this is its little sister. Let's make it a reality 🩸

(i beg you, really, i need it in my bookshelf)

Book of Devotion. Kickstarter

Cover by Cristigupa. Illustrations by Eliot Baum, Planets and Yazmati. Texts by Chewy905 and gothHoblin. Back cover text by ImNotAMarySue.

[widowmura]

My speedpaint contribution to #mermay with some Bloodweave. Featuring merman Gale and Deep Sea Leviathan Astarion. Each of these pics took under or just over an hour to do. I'll probably redesign / redraw Deep Sea Leviathan at a later stage. Some lore to go along with them: When Gale boards the small vessel barely enough to fit a crew of six, Mystra reassures him that mermaids are not to be feared. He's read of them of course. Alluring, feminine; specimens of beauty and wonder. But dangerous. Enough that should you see the shimmer of their scales in the water, you should avert your eyes immediately and to not let them fool you into thinking their scales are in fact precious gems, just barely out of reach. That when their siren song calls, you ensure your ears are stuffed with enough cotton and you keep away from the drink to retain your sanity.

So when he finds himself and their glorified canoe out in the stretch of the deep sea, fading into an endless nothingness, his mind can't help but wander. What else is hiding in the depths? Mystra doesn't let him find out. When something unfathomably large and dark stirs a wake large enough to rock their ship, the woman shoves him overboard. It turns out the fairytales were exactly that; tales, but the reality is so much worse.

Cast into the depths as a sacrifice for safe passage, Gale cannot help but flounder. He'd never learned to swim despite living in a place called Waterdeep. The irony isn't lost on him as he sinks, down and down like a stone, straining into an eternity of blue as his lungs fill with water and dread. But he isn't empty-handed. The artefact he'd stolen from that gods forsaken cursed fortress was still with him, and with no other choice except to reach for desperation, he plunges it within his chest, hoping, praying for a lifeline.

Aka mermaids are propaganda tales used by sailors. Mermaids are in fact hideously large monstrous creatures, leviathans in their own right that trade safe voyage for flesh whose existence is kept quiet. Gale ends up using the orb and manages to somehow turn himself into a false merman to escape the pursuit of such a creature, who instead of choosing to consume him, keeps him as an oddity of his own. The fact they both glow amuses the monster. Astarion lures ships and takes sacrifices to his master, The Great Old One of the Depths - Cazador. Meeting Gale, which at first turns out to just be a bigger fish tormenting a smaller fish story turns into something more when Gale helps to undo the pact keeping Astarion bound to the Old God. Astarion's design is based off a deep sea angler fish for the luring / lives in the dark aspect and a Dunkleosteus which is a prehistoric fish with boney plating for making him seem ancient / old in appearance.

[kaifougere666]

Black Butler OC time! + Ciel cosplay at the end

Meet Echo Eagerwel and her Butler Raven Ash

This is edited from a screenshot

This was made in Picrew

This was her first design, drawn on my 2ds

And this was me trying to replicate the Bb style

Now the lore..

Echo Eagerwl a young noble girl aged of 13. Born In November of 1875.

She grew up in a big mansion with her parents and her older brother; Alexander. The mansion was full of joy, despite her parents being careless about her and Alexender. Despite that, her love for her brother was enough to keep her joyful. She treated everyone with kindness, just like Alexender told her to.

He was her whole world.

Her parents were often busy and away with work.

They worked in the underworld..

Echo was a joyful little girl, shy yet curious.

That all changed when her brother was taken away. He disappeared. For months nobody knew what had happened.

A few months after, Echo decided to take a walk in the small forest near her house alongside her dog. That's when she saw it. Alexander's rotten body, hanged like a puppet to a tree.

The body had been there for a few weeks. It was rotting. She puked, she cried. Nothing was the same after that. Her children mind was shattered. She was only 11 at the time.

She decides to make a pact to avenge her brother.

She pronounced the words to invocate her..

A Seith/Nephilim. A creature both Angel and demon at once. (Seith are a creature from my lore btw)

Like demons, Seiths have an interest in making pacts. But despite their similarities, the Seith don't eat the souls of humans. The Seith eat the heart and memory of their human.

Raven Ash is the name of the Seith, a woman who played the role of a Butler to serve Echo.

It took a two years for Echo to get her revenge.

The details of said revenge goes like this: a cult kidnapped Alexender as a sacrifice for an angel. Said angel used Alexender as a puppet. When he became useless, he got killed and hanged like the puppet he was.

Raven eliminated the ones who put despair upon Echo. The angel, the people who brainwashed her brother. Dead.

Echo never liked violence. But she had a hate so vile from her brother's murder that she had no other choice. She had to make her brother's memory clean from the humiliation put upon him.

Raven ate the heart and the memory of Echo, leaving her forgotten, with an incomplete soul. She died in August of 1888.

Until then, she became a ghost. She stayed in her mansion.

Her parents stopped checking on her when Raven came in as a Butler, and propably didn't knew she was dead.

She stayed in the mansion for two hundred years.

Using her soul energy for it not to crumble. She was alone, she was bored.

She tried to keep the mansion in place. Often cleaning and organising. But time being what it does best, the house was beginning to destroy itself slowly.

The entrance was full of humidity, therefore the wooden floor was breaking.

But it still stayed in mostly good shape. Especially the living room and kitchen. Although the second floor was fragilised.

The furniture stayed there too.

Including the books.

When bored, Echo read the books in the library. There was a lot of them, but after 200 years, it was starting to get boring and repetitive.

She played in her room with her toys, and her dolls to pass time aswell.

But what she mostly did was to stay in the family portrait. Not materialising. She didn't have to keep always conscious after all.

In the 21st century, a few people came to visit the abandoned mansion.

She tried to warn each of them how she could, trying to make them leave: the mansion was fragile and therefore too dangerous for explorers.

Here is my Ciel Cosplay! It's closet Cosplay btw

[lady-quen]

Was rambling underneath @thornethenorn 's post and it finally kicked me into gear to design Mael's unique Death Shroud, so thank you dearly for that 🫡

Anyway. I keep saying PoF is where my Comm got a bit canon-divergent, and this is why. I wasn't a fan of how "easy" the ordeal of death and clawing oneself back to life felt in the actual campaign, so I've essentially made his Shroud reflect that, forever. Detail talk below cut!

The open mouth that manifests specifically in Shroud form is actually the same mortal wound Balthazar inflicted on Maelmordha, splitting his entire chest open with his greatsword. The scar runs down from the top of the sternum to the abdomen and serves as a constant reminder of the dire encounter - as well as a conduit for dark powers. Death itself is a necromancer's greatest source of strength, after all - even and especially his own.

The ghastly fangs are a remnant of the Eater of Souls whose life force substitutes the Commander's own - he is using a demon's vital energy to stay alive, so he wraps himself in magical chains in case he were to ever lose control over the magic. He has also gained the ability to manifest weapons from that same creature's essence and likewise uses chains to bind them.

Staying in Shroud for prolonged periods of time tends to be painful due to the enchanted hooks holding his chest open, even if the portal seals itself immediately when the magic is dismissed. However, with harbinger powers, pain itself is also used as a source of energy.

Due to the controversial nature of Commander Maelmordha's magic, only his closest companions in the Pact (and whoever in the future manages to snoop enough - *cough* probably wizards) know its source and nature. Being feared too much isn't great for diplomacy, innit.

[zeroseuniverse]

Can I pique your interest for a moment? Hear me out before you scroll

after doing my twisted fairytales series I missed the ones that weren't in the focus so ofc I thought of a new series!!

Monster High AU with a twist or like 10 lol

|Fair warning: The story is gonna be chaotic, based around a curse, It's gonna be dark. I've been working on World building for this idea all day its gonna be in depth and meticulous. I personally went through researching every type of monster and their characteristics so I could better categorize each of the idols selected. Each idol will have their own X reader fic based off of the prologue of their ways of beating the curse! there will be mentions of cursing (with words and spells lol) and blood as well as maybe violence, the romance for some can be classed as dark romance but remember i never write pass a few kisses so don't expect smut.|

The Ones I'm gonna focus in on this one are gonna be as followed:

|Taeyong| Yuta| Ten| Haechan| Yoongi| Namjoon| Taehyun| Jungwon| Soul| V| Jongseob| Keeho| Theo| Jeongin| Changbin| Jungkook| Jimin| Jin| Beomgyu| Yeonjun| Kai| Doyoung| Jay| Heeseung| Jiung| Yujin| Sunghoon| Soobin| Yeosang| Sunoo| Seungmin| Hyunjin|Wooyoung| Hongjoong|NI-ki| seonghwa| Yeonjun| Felix|

Prologue

They never planned to fall in love. They only wanted to survive.

He was hunted. Not just because of what he was, but because he had outlived the world that made space for monsters. Once regal, once terrifying, now reduced to a fugitive with silver burns on his chest and nothing but time left to lose.

When she found him, collapsed in a forgotten shrine, he didn’t ask for help. He just stared at her like she was a hallucination—too soft, too human, too late.

But she knelt anyway, touched his face with trembling fingers, and said, “You’re not the first monster I’ve saved.”

She was meant to be a healer. Taught to bind wounds, not rebuild legacies. But she had read too many burned books and buried too many good creatures to keep pretending the world was fair.

When she saved him, she thought it would end there. It never did.

They built the school together with blistered hands and stubborn magic. Stone after stone, they carved a safe place out of a hostile world.

For every shadow dweller, scale bearer, spirit walker, and blood drinker, there was a room, a dorm, a class designed not to punish their difference—but to help them live with it.

For a time, they called it sanctuary.

And then it started again.

Monsters vanished. Magic cracked. Normies pressed too close.

So they searched. Desperate. Devoted. They found a spell, older than language.

The Pact.

One soul a year. Given freely. In exchange, the veil would hold. The world would forget.

It was a cruel kind of salvation. But so was the world.

She offered herself before he could. He screamed at her not to.

“This magic doesn’t care who’s braver.” “Then we should fight it.” “We don’t have time.”

That night, they didn’t sleep. They argued. They kissed. They promised things that the spell would never let them keep.

By morning, she was gone.

Not dead. Not buried. Just... gone.

And so was her name.

He remained—alone, quietly breaking. No one remembered her. Not even him. Only the ache stayed. That empty, echoing grief with no shape and no source.

The castle sealed its doors. The spell began. Each year, the cost is paid again.

One soul. One sacrifice. One love, devoured before it can take root.

The students call it rumor. The teachers call it tradition.

But the castle remembers.

In a sealed-off garden behind rusted gates, two statues sit crumbling. A hand reaches toward another, never quite touching. The nameplate is blank. Moss swallows what’s left.

Sometimes, late at night, a dream drifts down the hallway like smoke. A pair of voices.

“If I had loved you less…” “You never could have.”

And the whisper that follows?

“This is not the end.”

Taglist: @zaycie @sh0dor1 @tinyelfperson @lezleeferguson-120

[acedormouse]

DnD 5e Character Sheet for Stanford Pines

You know, in case you ever wanted to play the most mid Warlock whose only magical items are a boundless coffee thermas and a fancy lantern.

Under the cut is the transcript of all the text as well as a descriptor for what each spell does.

I don't have any particular verbal commands but when a spell requires a Somatic omponent, Ford needs both hands to make a triangle shape with his fingers

Character Name: Stanford Pines

Class: Warlock Race: Tiefling Background: The Haunted One Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Level: 10

Passive Perception: 12 Proficiency Bonus: +4

Speed: 30 ft AC: 14 Initiative: +3

Current HP: 88/88 Hit Dice: d8

Strength: 13 (+1) Intelligence: 19 (+4) Dexterity: 17 (+3) Wisdom: 13 (+1) Constitution: 15 (+2) Charisma: 13 (+1)

Saving Throws: +1 Wisdom, +1 Charisma

Skills: Arcana (+4), Deception (+1), Investigation (+4), Nature (+4), Religion (+4), Stealth (+3)

Other Profiencies and Languages

Languages Spoken: Common, Infernal, Elvish, Sylvan, Gnomish, Giant, Dwarvish Linguist: you have the ability to create ciphers that others cannot decipher unless they are taught how, succeed an Intelligence check, or use magic Dark Vision: you can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light

Features and Traits

*Otherworldly Patron: you have struck a bargain with an otherworldly being known as the Great Old One, a mysterious entity whose nature is utterly foreign to the fabric of reality. The entity is a voice in the mind- its identity unclean but its boon to you is concrete: the ability to cast spells *Magical Cunning: you can perform an esoteric rite to regain expended Pact Magic spell slots, but no more than a number equal to half your maximum (round up). *Contact Patron: you always have the Contact Other Place spell prepared. You can cast the spell without spending a spell slot to contact your patron *Awakened Mind: your alien knowledge gives you the ability to telepathically speak to any creature you can see within 30 feet of you *Entropic Ward: when a creature makes an attack against you, you can use your reaction to impose disadvantage. If a creature tries to attack you this way, it will take the same amount of damage as you *Bloodline of Asmodeus: bloodline commanded by the power of fire and darkness and guided by keen intellect

Inventory

*Arcana Focus: a crystal pyramid that colorfully gleams in the light *Journal: I keep my thoughts and discoveries here. My journal is my legacy. *Scholar's Pack: backpack, book, ink, ink pen, lantern, 10 flasks of oil, 10 sheets of parchment, and a tinderbox *Bottle of Boundless Coffee: a metal bottle that carries delicious, warm coffee. Each time you drink the coffee, roll a d20; on a 1, the bottle refuses to dispense until the next hour *Lantern of Tracking: this hooded lantern is designed to track monstrosities. It will burn for 6 hours on 1 flask of oil and light a 30 foot radius. When the lantern is within 300 feet of its target, its flame turns bright green

Attacks and Spellcasting:

Name: Crossbow (light) Attack Bonus: +7 Damage/ Type: 1d8, piercing

Patron: The Great Old One

Pact Boon: Pact of the Tome: your Patron gives you a grimoire called the Book of Shadows. You can choose three cantrips from any class's spell list. They don't count against your number of cantrips known.

Eldritch Invocations

*Eldritch Mind: you have advantage on Constitution saving throws that you make to maintain your concentration on a spell. *Book of the Ancient: you can now inscribe magical rituals in your Book of Shadows. Choose two 1st-level spells that have the ritual tag from any class's spell list. The spells appear in the book and don't count against the number of spells you know. *Maddening Hex: as a bonus action, you cause a psychic disturbance around the target cursed by your Hex spell. When you do so, you deal psychic damage to the cursed target and each creature of your choice within 5 feet of it. The psychic damage equals your Charisma modifier. *Aspect of the Moon: you no longer need to sleep and can't be forced to sleep by any means. To gain the benefits of a long rest, you can spend all 8 hours doing light activity, such as reading your Book of Shadows and keeping watch. *Caiphon's Beacon: the purple star Caiphon is the doom of inexperienced mariners. Those who use its deceptive light to guide their travels invariably come to ruin. You gain proficiency in the Deception and Stealth skills, and you have advantage on attack rolls against charmed creatures.

Cantrips

*Eldritch Blast: Range: 120 ft Save/ Attack: 2d10 Time: 1 action Concentration: No Duration: Instantaneous Components: Verbal, Somatic

A beam of crackling energy streaks toward a creature within range.

*Mind Sliver: Range: 60 ft Save/ Attack: Intelligence/ 2d6 Time: 1 action Concentration: No Duration: 1 round Components: Verbal

You drive a disorienting spike of psychic energy into the mind of one creature you can see within range.

*Minor Illusion: Range: 30 ft Save/ Attack: Intelligence Time: 1 action Concentration: No Duration: 1 minute Components: Somatic, Material

You create a sound or an image of an object within range that lasts for the duration.

*Mage Hand: Range: 30 ft Save/ Attack: None Time: 1 action Concentration: No Duration: 1 minute Components: Verbal, Somatic

A spectral, floating hand appears at a point you choose within range. You can use your action to control the hand. You can use the hand to manipulate an object, open an unlocked door or container, stow or retrieve an item from an open container, or pour the contents out of a vial.

*Fire Bolt: Range: 120 ft Save/ Attack: 2d10 Time: 1 action Concentration: No Duration: Instantaneous Components: Verbal, Somatic

You hurl a mote of fire at a creature or object within range. A flammable object hit by this spell ignites if it isn’t being worn or carried.

*Prestidigitation: Range: 10 ft Save/ Attack: None Time: 1 action Concentration: No Duration: Up to 1 hour Components: Verbal, Somatic

This spell is a minor magical trick that novice spellcasters use for practice.

*Vicious Mockery: Range: 60 ft Save/ Attack: 2d4 Time: 1 action Concentration: No Duration: Instantaneous Components: Verbal

You unleash a string of insults laced with subtle enchantments at a creature you can see within range.

1st Level

*Dissonant Whispers: Range: 60 ft Save/ Attack: Wisdom/ 3d6 Time: 1 action Concentration: No Duration: Instantaneous Components: Verbal

You whisper a discordant melody that only one creature of your choice within range can hear, wracking it with terrible pain.

*Hex: Range: 90 ft Save/ Attack: 1d6 necrotic Time: 1 bonus action Concentration: Yes Duration: 1 hour Components: Verbal, Somatic, Material

You place a curse on a creature that you can see within range. Until the spell ends, you deal an extra 1d6 necrotic damage to the target whenever you hit it with an attack. Also, choose one ability when you cast the spell. The target has disadvantage on ability checks made with the chosen ability.

*Tasha's Hideous Laughter: Range: 30 ft Save/ Attack: Wisdom Time: 1 action Concentration: Yes Duration: 1 minute Components: Verbal, Somatic, Material

A creature of your choice that you can see within range perceives everything as hilariously funny and falls into fits of laughter if this spell affects it.

*Illusory Script: Range: Touch Save/ Attack: None Time: 1 minute Concentration: No Duration: 10 days Components: Somatic, Material

You write on parchment, paper, or some other suitable writing material and imbue it with a potent illusion that lasts for the duration. To you and any creatures you designate when you cast the spell, the writing appears normal, written in your hand, and conveys whatever meaning you intended when you wrote the text. To all others, the writing appears as if it were written in an unknown or magical script that is unintelligible.

*Identify: Range: Touch Save/ Attack: None Time: 1 minute Concentration: No Duration: Instantaneous Components: Verbal, Somatic, Material

You choose one object that you must touch throughout the casting of the spell. If it is a magic item or some other magic-imbued object, you learn its properties and how to use them, whether it requires attunement to use, and how many charges it has, if any. You learn whether any spells are affecting the item and what they are.

2nd Level

*Phantasmal Force: Range: 60 ft Save/ Attack: Intelligence/ 1d6 Time: 1 action Concentration: Yes Duration: 1 minute Components: Verbal, Somatic, Material

You craft an illusion that takes root in the mind of a creature that you can see within range. While a target is affected by the spell, the target treats the phantasm as if it were real. The target rationalizes any illogical outcomes from interacting with the phantasm.

*Darkness: Range: 60 ft Save/ Attack: None Time: 1 action Concentration: Yes Duration: 10 minutes Components: Verbal, Material

Magical darkness spreads from a point you choose within range to fill a 15-foot radius sphere for the duration. The darkness spreads around corners. A creature with darkvision can’t see through this darkness, and nonmagical light can’t illuminate it.

3rd Level

*Enemies Abound: Range: 120 ft Save/ Attack: Intelligence Time: 1 action Concentration: Yes Duration: 1 minute Components: Verbal, Somatic

You reach into the mind of one creature you can see and force it to make an Intelligence saving throw. On a failed save, the target loses the ability to distinguish friend from foe, regarding all creatures it can see as enemies until the spell ends. Each time the target takes damage, it can repeat the saving throw, ending the effect on itself on a success.

*Clairvoyance: Range: 1 mile Save/ Attack: None Time: 10 minutes Concentration: Yes Duration: 10 minutes Components: Verbal, Somatic, Material

You create an invisible sensor within range in a location familiar to you (a place you have visited or seen before) or in an obvious location that is unfamiliar to you (such as behind a door, around a corner, or in a grove of trees). The sensor remains in place for the duration, and it can’t be attacked or otherwise interacted with. When you cast the spell, you choose seeing or hearing. You can use the chosen sense through the sensor as if you were in its space.

4th Level

*Evard's Black Tentacles: Range: 90 ft Save/ Attack: Dexterity/ 3d6 Time: 1 action Concentration: Yes Duration: 1 minute Compoents: Verbal, Somatic, Material

Squirming, ebony tentacles fill a 20-foot square on ground that you can see within range. For the duration, these tentacles turn the ground in the area into difficult terrain.

When a creature enters the affected area for the first time on a turn or starts its turn there, the creature must succeed on a Dexterity saving throw or take 3d6 bludgeoning damage and be restrained by the tentacles until the spell ends.

*Banishment: Range: 60 ft Save/ Attack: Charisma Time: 1 action Concentration: Yes Duration: 1 minute Components: Verbal, Somatic, Material

You attempt to send one creature that you can see within range to another place of existence.

If the target is native to the plane of existence you’re on, you banish the target to a harmless demiplane. While there, the target is incapacitated. The target remains there until the spell ends, at which point the target reappears in the space it left or in the nearest unoccupied space if that space is occupied. If the target is native to a different plane of existence that the one you’re on, the target is banished with a faint popping noise, returning to its home plane.

5th Level

*Synaptic Static: Range: 120 ft Save/ Attack: Intelligence/ 8d6 Time: 1 action Concentration: No Duration: Instantaneous Components: Verbal, Somatic

You choose a point within range and cause psychic energy to explode there. Each creature in a 20-foot-radius sphere centered on that point must make an Intelligence saving throw.

After a failed save, a target has muddled thoughts for 1 minute. During that time, it rolls a d6 and subtracts the number rolled from all its attack rolls and ability checks, as well as its Constitution saving throws to maintain concentration.

[ogiltig-haj]

Hewo! Everynyan.

IM ACTAULLY GONE NOW -> https://www.tumblr.com/ogiltig-haj/780576404488306688/butwhy?source=share

Any Pronouns (includes neopronouns!!)

Hey

Shapeshifting Void Slime but my current form is a eldritch blahaj

Peer into the void

Minor so no weirdness

It may peer back

Y̵̼̻̬̘̗̣̒͊̽̎̈́͠ȅ̷̡̘̝̲̂̂̍͋͘͝͝s̶̩̖͓̊̆͂̚͠ ̴̡̡͈̰̳͕͎̦͛̅̄͘Ị̷̢͇̳̦͐̄̈́͑̈́̎́̕ ̵̤̝̦̆͒̚͝ȃ̸̫̼̘̥̪͕͝ͅm̵̙͕̗̈̎̑̔͐̑͜ ̴̪̖̮̿̈͌̌̌͝ẗ̶̛̩̉͐̔̂͘͝h̷̪̹͉͚̯͓͕̒͗̿́̑̚e̶̦͉̝̳̤͊͌̋̂͑̕͝ ̶͇͒̌͆̅̈́̍è̸̢͕̰̯̘̺̓̈l̶̨̳̭͙̦̭̜̞̎̇̈͌̑̾͛͘d̶̘̩̯̫͕̰͌̄͛̕r̶̡̨̜̣̗̹͋̏͆ī̴̦͔͙̣̗̭̊̉t̶̙̼͌͒̈̇̽̒́c̴͍̅̿͆̅h̵̢͕̭̳͇̫̘͂ ̸̞̩̿̆͌̐̏͑h̴̙̭͍̠̩̦̺̔̃o̶͍̦̰̭̗̦̔̅̈̑͜ȓ̴̘̽͝r̸̪̙͓͕͗̔̅̎͑̒ǫ̶̩̥́̔̈̈̾r̶̡͖̦͂͘

Become favored with your presence

All will be absorbed into the Void one way or another

Live in spite, be free

Some ways are painful some not, we are figuring it out.

We are not entirely sure what we are be it gods, monsters, or mystical creatures, but we do know one thing

Affects of absorption vary and will not be revealed till after

We are two and right now we are blahaj...unfortunately we may shift but we won't stray far.

Those favored will choose when and how to be absorbed

We look forward to the inevitable

Transphobes will be consumed whole

your return.

:3

@thedivineguldhaj

We look to your holy guidance as to how to do this.

If you want that is! You don't have to dw! :D

The hajverse discord

Lore moments (in chronological order):

[Make sure too look at the reblogs too! ya know to get the whole picture.]

The Oracle

Names

Obtaining a child

Therapy with Gulhaj

Alignment

Kväva Arives

Ominious

New Relations

The 1st henchlady the-smahaj

Hat / Court Jester Cardboardhaj

Eating batteries

The inspiration of the-hajhaj's expirement

Salvation of Kväva?

Getting pulled in

Getting out?

Almost dissection of rodgulhaj

Kväva's apology to rodgulhaj

Fun Shark Fact 1

We have Lore / Fighting the Void

Alignment 2.0

Asking Questions

Reading

Our Humble Henchhaj's Concern

Seeing Divinegulhaj

Get that bag / 1/3 designs <#

Ödsilg's emotions

BUNNEYYYYY

The Blue One's splitting

Eldritch Pacts

Fire

Body-ody-ody-ody

1st attempt at a camera

Biological children?

Are you Hermes?

Space Void

Innocentence?

The crow

Cuddles

Divine Guldhaj's visit

Divine Guldhaj's visit (feat. rodhaj)

The Blue one's name

Biscuits but british

The universes trash can

Pronouns

A safe(?) place

Our death

Another divineguldhaj visit (2)

The second visit (feat. rodhaj, lijusthaj)

The second visit (feat rodhaj)

New child aquired

Försök's opinion on rodhaj

A deal with blalilihaj

A deal with rodbrunhaj

Gulhaj's attempt at helping

Getting supplies/ new henchhaj the-attaarmadhaj

Donuts (feat. cardboardhaj)

Marriage blessing?

Place in the world

Kväva's Spatula

On seeking truth

Rodbrunhaj's end of the deal

Pranks

Deal with hajhaj?

Exi the fish robot

Where is it?

Talks...to themselves?

r u k?

Ooc: hell

Who is Exi?

Picrew [a peak at into the Void]

Gulhaj returns

What Mörker actually looks like

yet another peek at the void

a new era?

Our death