#thank fuck I don't have to travel with young children

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Merry Christmas

Christmas 2023 (Krampus x GN!Reader)

Chains and Whips

CW: Non-con, dub-con, bondage, anal, sadism, monster fucking, mild brat training, bratty reader, pain play, breaking and entering

"So... He's, like, a demon?" (Reader) took another sip of their cocoa while giving their friend a half jokingly judgemental look, squinting their eyes over their oversized mug. For the holidays (Reader) found themselves with nowhere to go, and ended up traveling with their best friend to her hometown. It was a tiny little place, cute, and very strange. (Reader) had, of course, heard about Krampus before but only because of B-rated horror movies, so seeing an entire village of people hanging up pictures of him alongside Santa Claus was a culture shock, to say the least. Stranger than the abundant Krampus merch was the fact that everyone spoke of it with respect, as though the creature was real, a respect not given to Santa.

"Well, no, kinda, but no." Johanna flicked her wrist as she spoke, eyes glazed and unfocused in the warmth of the heated living room. "Krampus is older than Saint Nicholas and Christianity."

It was difficult to stay awake, all bundled up under a mountain of blankets while the TV quietly played a movie in the background. Snow was falling outside, while children played in the setting sun, laughing outside Johanna's window.

"So, does he kidnap naughty children?"

"No, he beats them with a stick." She tiredly waved her hand in a whipping motion to illustrate her point, as though (Reader) didn't know what she meant by "beating".

"That sounds horrifying." (Reader) smiled, chuckling. Their eyelids were beginning to glue themselves shut.

"Yeah. During Krampusnacht boys like to dress up as him and try to scare people. I used to be terrified of him." Johanna rolled over and propped herself up, resting her head on her hand while sprawling out further on the warm couch across (Reader) on the adjacent lounge. "Thank God I was such a good kid!" She said cheekily.

(Reader's) grin grew. "Should I be in trouble then?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm naughty." (Reader) joked, wiggling their shoulders comically.

The young woman sat up. Her face had flipped instantly from silly to frustrated, swapping from a sleepy gaze for furrowed brows. "That's not funny, (Reader)."

Shocked by Johanna's sudden seriousness, (Reader) sat up as well, doubling down on the joke. "Should probably lock your door tonight, to keep me safe."

"Stop!" She whined, looking genuinely nervous.

"What?" (Reader) leaned forward, amused by their friend's reaction. "Are you really scared?"

"Yes!"

"Scared he's going to come punish me?"

Johanna rolled her eyes. "Krampus is real."

(Reader) wanted to push their friend a little further. This was the first time they had ever seen Johanna act in such a way. Johanna was a fearless woman, a badass who was a regular ole adrenaline junkie; the kind of person to jump out a plane without hesitation. And here she was, losing her patience over a mythological creature.

The dramatic young adult launched themselves off the couch and towards a window, swaying their hips theatrically. They threw open the window as far as it could go, cupping their mouth to amplify their voice out into the neighborhood, moaning;

"Oh no! I hope some big, hairy, Krampus doesn't come and punish me for being such a naughty little whore!"

"(Reader)!"

"Please, don't come punish me for being such a tight little cum slut!" (Reader) laughed as Johanna grabbed their arm, now giggling as well, albeit more out of nerves than honest joy.

"(Reader), please! I'm serious!" Johanna closed the window, forgetting to lock it as she was too busy looking over her shoulder at her ridiculous friend. "I swear to God, if I have to wake up in the middle of the night to save your life..!"

(Reader) wasn't done being obnoxious, shaking their ass as they pretended to run away in fear. "Oh no! Don't let him spank me! Oh noooo!"

Johanna grabbed a throw pillow and chucked it at (Reader's) head hard enough to make them lose their balance. "You would get fucking wrecked by Krampus."

"Yeah, my ass-"

"Wouldn't even last a second. You would lose a fight against a marshmallow, you aren't going to go up against an ancient being worshipped for centuries."

After falling back onto the couch (Reader) had chosen for their sleeping spot, they rolled their eyes, dropping the act. (Reader) wasn't actually a naughty person. Not only were they not "naughty" in the innocent definition of the word, being the kind of person to return other shoppers' carts they refused to put away themselves, but in the dirty sense they weren't particularly "naughty" either. (Reader) wasn't a virgin, just suffering from a dry spell. "Goodnight, Jojo."

"Goodnight! I set my alarm for five.'

"Ew!"

"I'll see you in the morning!"

"Nooooooo....."

Johanna left (Reader) for her childhood bedroom, leaving (Reader) in the dark living room, not entirely alone.

.........................

(Reader) wasn't asleep for long when the room became too unbearably cold, causing pins and needles in their legs that forced them to stand up. The time on their phone informed (Reader) that it was only one in the morning. They bundled up in the blanket Johanna provided and slipped into the kitchen to make a cup of decaf tea.

'Why's it so cold?' (Reader) shivered violently as they waited for the water to warm up enough for their drink. It was so warm before (Reader) passed out, that if the Christmas lights on the tree weren't still on they would have thought that there was a power outage. The water loudly began to sizzle in the electric kettle, making (Reader) panic, turning it off. They would have felt like shit if they accidentally woke up Johanna. Her grandparents were out of town, opting to go on a cruise during the holidays instead of hanging around in the cold to visit family, which (Reader) respected. They deserved to enjoy their retirement. Although they had never met, the older couple offered (Reader) their room, which (Reader) politely declined. Although (Reader) said that it was to respect their privacy, it was actually because (Reader) just didn't feel comfortable sleeping in someone else's bed.

The mug began to smell like tea instead of hot water as the bag steeped. (Reader) drank quickly, eager to warm up and get back to sleep. They peaked over at the clock on the oven.

1:00

It had taken almost ten minutes to make one cup of tea, but the time was still one am.

(Reader) felt a shiver crawl down their spine.

Before they could wrap their mind around the time, a rough hand with long, sharp nails, clasped over (Reader's) mouth, dragging them off the chair. The mug went flying, shattering against the tile flooring, along with the wooden chair tipping over and loudly clattering.

Despite the struggle and muffled screams, Johanna did not come down to (Reader's) rescue.

The lights that had been strung up on the tree were tied around (Reader's) arms, securing their hands behind their back. (Reader) fell unceremoniously to their knees.

Above them stood a giant shape in the dark. A tattered red cloak, chains and hooks, black fur..

Hooves sunk into the carpet of the living room. Black fur covered the majority of it's exposed body, and the skin that wasn't hairy was a dark grey with black discoloration. Large horns rose from his skull like a crown. His long, almost human face held a twisted smirk, split open just enough to show off his rows of sharp teeth. Within his primate sockets were goat like eyes, yellow and glowing in the dark.

Despite the heat of the bulbs pressed against (Reader's) arms, the terrified person felt colder than before.

Krampus.

He bent down, gently pressing his clawed thumb into (Reader's) mouth, rubbing his bitter tasting finger across their tongue as (Reader) sat shell shocked.

'He's real.'

(Reader) felt as he played with the wet insides of their mouth, only breaking out of their trance when his nail poked the sensitive wall of their inner cheek.

A surprised cry echoed throughout the house, earning a hand grabbing a fistful of (Reader's) hair, yanking their head back warningly. (Reader) bit down on the disgusting tasting hand as harshly as they could, but it only resulted in an amused chuckle. The creature's laugh was deep, rumbling like thunder in his chest.

He released (Reader) and effortlessly pulled his thumb out from their teeth. One of the many chains with hooks was uncoiled from the demon's shoulder and thrown to his cloven feet.

"Hey, wait-!" (Reader) protested as they were lift up and placed on their feet with only one hand. Their pajama bottoms were pulled down around their ankles, taking their underpants with them. "Stop!"

The hook Krampus had prepared was picked back up, the stench of his body becoming overwhelming as he engulfed (Reader) in his arms, jangling the chain behind their back as he prepared something.

"I don't know what you are, but I swear to God, I'm going to start screaming rape if you don't stop! The neighbors will call the cops!" (Reader) didn't know what they were saying, the adrenaline spike forcing out tough sounding sentences that made no sense, given the fact that this wasn't a normal human home invader.

Another rumble rolled throughout his rib cage as something cold violated (Reader's) ass. (Reader) involuntarily screamed as the hook was lodged into their anus.

They tried to fall to the floor, allowing their legs to turn to jelly, but Krampus tugged on the chain above them, forcing them up onto their toes. Their hands were still tied behind their back, so their balance was depended entirely on the chain.

Krampus seemed pleased, looking down at the teary little human.

(Reader) was not on the naughty list.

They had always been a good person, mindful of others and always attempting to do what was right. So when they opened the window that night, releasing their scent and calling out to Krampus, he knew what they were really implying.

A long, pink cock slick and shiny in the multicolor glow of (Reader's) bindings emerged from the black mass of fur between his animalistic legs. It was thin, but it continued emerging, revealing itself to almost be the length of his thigh.

He grabbed (Reader's) hair again, forcefully pushing their upper half down, bending them at their waist. They couldn't fall because of the chain still holding (Reader) up. The hand on (Reader's) head shoved their face down to his crotch, slipping his slimy cock between their lips as they begged him to stop. Like a sword, the long penis went down their throat, rubbing against their uvula, and poking into their stomach. Vomit rose and threatened to choke (Reader), coughing it up around his thin cock that smelled like his fingers.

(Reader) tried to straighten their back to pull his dick out of their body, but the Krampus yanked up on the hook while laughing, causing (Reader) to fall forward back onto his dick as their feet lost contact with the ground.

The chain was given some slack, placing (Reader) back onto their toes. They were able to pull off his dick long enough to release the bile onto his thighs. It was still in their mouth, but at it's thin tip, allowing (Reader) the chance to breathe. Then he pulled up again, ramming (Reader) onto him like some kind of pulley operated sex toy.

(Reader) felt their muscles burn as their face was mercilessly fucked by the monster, bobbing their head up and down his shaft by the chain still attached to (Reader's) ass.

Krampus dropped the heavy metal chain to grab (Reader's) head, slapping his heavy balls against their chin as his fucking became more erratic, smashing their nose into his thick fur as his chuckles turned to deep moans and pants. Then, (Reader's) face was held against his pelvis tightly as painfully hot fluid shot straight into their stomach.

He pulled out slowly, still twitching with little pumps of cum as he slid the cock out of their throat and over their tongue.

(Reader) left their mouth open, feeling the smelly fluid drip off their tongue and onto the floor, hoping they would vomit up the rest of his jizz they were forced to drink. The appearance of (Reader) with sticky white drool still connected in a long string to the tip of his hard cock, along with the pathetic little sniffles they made as tears dribbled down their cheeks, excited Krampus more, encouraging him to continue.

Still coughing up the suffocating muck, (Reader) was hoisted into the air, this time not by the hook that had fallen out of their rear, but but the Christmas lights around their midsection.

Suspended above the ground, (Reader) frantically kicked their legs. Krampus held the back of the bindings of their arms with one clawed fist, exposing themselves to him. A foot made contact with his knee in the struggle, but Krampus didn't flinch, completely unfazed by (Reader's) strength.

"No more! Fucking stop!" (Reader) squealed in desperation. They knew he could see how aroused they had become from this angle. (Reader) couldn't see his face, but knew he was smirking at them like the bastard he was. They didn't want to, but their body couldn't help it. It felt good to be fucked.

It had been a long time since (Reader) had had sex, but even longer since they had been fucked.

His still wet member pried open (Reader's) clenched hole. It wasn't painful, with how thin it was, but it kept going in, deeper, and deeper. It hit the point where a large human cock would have stopped, but the monster didn't seem to care for (Reader's) discomfort, forcing himself all the way in. (Reader) didn't even know how they fit all that dick inside of them. But the moment they felt his hot hips grind against their ass, their eyes fluttered.

Unable to touch the ground, (Reader) was held up by the Krampus' left hand and his erection. The lights dug into their ribs painfully, scraping against them as Krampus used the decoration as a harness. His thrusts were fast and hard, just like when he was raping (Reader's) mouth. He went deeper into their slutty hole than anyone ever had before, forcibly giving (Reader) unwanted pleasure.

"H- Help!" (Reader) shakily whined as they fought against how good his slimy inhuman dick felt as he pounded them from behind. Each snap of his hips hit their nerves better than any man had before. The building tightness was eroding (Reader's) will to fight.

'This isn't morally wrong.. right?'

'It's like a dream.. no one judges you for who you fuck in a dream you can't control..'

Their stomach contracted as their orgasm built, threatening to release. But just as (Reader) was about to finish, Krampus ceased his movements, holding them unbearably still against him.

(Reader) involuntarily whined. The climax slowly dissolved, losing the momentum. "Please let me go.."

Something hard painfully slapped their ass, cracking loudly like a riding crop. (Reader) cried out before they could bite their lip, earning another chuckle from the goat man as he continued dicking them down from behind.

Just as (Reader) tried to hush the sounds of enjoyment singing out from their own mouth, another slap from the wood stung their rippling ass cheek as Krampus buried his cock into them.

The rising orgasm built faster this time, causing (Reader) to shake as though they were helping rock themselves onto Krampus' long dick. Their thighs quivered and their breaths became ragged. Each thrust was alternated with a stinging whack to (Reader's) behind. And each time that wood contacted sharply against their skin, (Reader) was brought closer to the edge.

But again, he stopped, only keeping himself in as (Reader) lost their orgasm. They moaned angrily.

It seemed obvious that (Reader) was enjoying this, so why did he keep stopping?? Embarrassment filled (Reader) up and spilled out as tears and a cock hungry sob. "Please.." (Reader) squeezed their eyes shut in shame. "Please finish up.."

"Be more specific." A frighteningly deep voice rumbled from behind (Reader). "What do you want me to do, naughty little whore?"

Precum leaked down (Reader's) legs. "Please let me cum.."

The switch smacked them harder. "What was that?"

"Please let me cum!" (Reader) felt themselves tightening around his dick as they raised their voice. "Please fuck me stupid! I want to cum!"

Another harsh slap earned a gasp from (Reader), urging them to continue begging.

"Please fuck me!"

He laughed quietly while pulling (Reader) up so they could see his face. His dick was still buried deep inside of them as he gazed down at them with predatory eyes. "What a good little slut.."

His lips smashed against (Reader's) forcing his tongue into their kiss as he resumed his assault on their tired, raw genitals. (Reader) returned the kiss just as desperately as Krampus gave it. Their kissing made (Reader) light headed as his ramming cock fucked them past the point of no return.

(Reader) came loudly at the same time as Krampus shot another round into their greedy fuck hole. Even after his seed spilled out he continued pumping, slapping his wet hips up against (Reader's) as he rode out his second orgasm. He kept his cock nestled deep inside (Reader) as they passed out, falling asleep in his arms as he weakly continued rubbing himself against their twitching walls.

(Reader) woke up in the morning on the couch, their clothes on and bundled up in a warm blanket. Johanna was awake, making coffee. Their face burned, wondering what they could have eaten the night before to make them dream about something so dirty, and so vividly.

"You awake yet?"

(Reader) quickly sat up, sore, presumably from sleeping on a couch. "Yeah, I'm getting up."

They stood, but almost immediately felt their knees buckle as cum poured out of them into their pants so quickly (Reader) thought they pissed themselves. (Reader) squawked, pulling open their bottoms to find their underwear missing, and the insides of their pants painted with someone else's fluids, still leaking out of their swollen hole.

"Haha, what was that?" (Reader) quickly pulled up their pants as their friend entered the living room with the mug (Reader) broke the night before.

"Nothing."

"You sure? You look kinda feverish.."

"I'm good!"

"I was just thinking about how to get on the naughty list again next year~"

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hi!! I eat up ur comfort fics so how about a tav! That’s so overwhelmed mentally they have a lot of trouble sleeping and how the companions (of ur choosing or just one) would help/react to finding them awake crying at like 3am. I’ve been having so much trouble sleeping and it would mean a lot🫶🫶

Oh, that hits home! My insomnia is the worst! And the darkness always comes in the quitest hours of the night. Hope, you don't mind an OC fic with Tiriel the Barbarian as Tav. If it's not to your liking send me another request, I will gladly write another one (or doing your class/race)

Insomnia

Summary: Astarion isn't the only who has traumatic past.

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, post-game, named Tav, established relationship, f!tav

Thanks @themadlufor beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

"Fairy girl!" the chieftain bellows. "Come here, little bitch!"

Tiriel tries to hide. She isn't Tiriel yet —she is only twelve, and she doesn't have a name yet. Only slurs and nicknames - Pixie, Fairy, Rabbit. All possible insults toward someone who is only half a human as if it were her fault her mother didn't keep her legs shut when a handsome young elf passed by their village.

The nameless girl is smaller in size than her siblings - the Chieftain's children. Mother has five with him - three older than "Fairy Girl" and two younger. The youngest ones don't understand why one of their sisters has pointy ears and can see in the dark but the others happily "put the elven bastard in line."

"Didn't you hear, Pixie girl?" The stepfather is getting angrier.

No. Don't approach him. You know what he is going to do!

An older brother, sixteen and almost adult, grabs the half-elven girl's collar and drags him to the chieftain. The brother is as cruel as his father and will never forgive his mother's infidelity.

"We should have fed you to the wolves once you were born, Pixie"

I have a name you fucking bastard, my name is Tiriel!

No, not now. Three years. Three years more of misery, humiliation, beatings - but it will end. It will end with fire in the girl's veins, the primal gift of Rage. With blood and violence when the chieftain choked on his own blood. With running away through the cold autumn woods and merciless mountain winds. With tears of desperation when the girl realizes she is on her own lost, and tired.

It will end with a party of adventurers led by an old Tiefling telling the "Pixie girl" that she needs a name, not a slur. Asking her to lead them through the wildernes. Allowing her to be part of their team, a reckless Barbarian who kills first and asks later.

Tiriel, she will tell them. My name is Tiriel.

But the grasp of the nightmare doesn't relent to her. Pain. Cry. Half of her ear is covered in blood. A burst of laughter. An angry dwarf-healer takes the girl to her hut to stitch the ear back.

Tiriel opens her eyes.

She can't understand where she is. She is in a dark tent, under a thick blanket. It's so thick it's difficult to breathe.

No, it's not only the blanket wrapped around her.

She gently touches Astarion's curls. The vampire sleeps covering her body like a weighted blanket. His head is on her chest, hands wrapped around her. He doesn't breathe, his heart doesn't beat.

He is in an elven trance.

Tiriel hopes he is seeing something good.

They've been together for two years, traveling further and further and further North. Sooner or later they will have to turn back, probably heading South-east, but for now they are simply moving, following their mutual wanderlust.

The nightmare was so real Tiriel almost feels like she re-lived those events. But human ancestry prevents half-elves from the experience of reverie.

She needs to go out, to the sunlight - the northern days are so short Tiriel craves at least some of it.

But with Astarion sleeping on her it's impossible. Well, at least he doesn't need much time.

She tries to go back to sleep but can't. Tiriel is tired from the insanity of the last day - she hasn’t slept well because they couldn't find shelter and had to flee into the underground tunnels. They were followed by at least three different groups of enemies that forced them into fighting.

Tiriel needs to sleep.

But she can't.

The events of the past wrap around her mind. Her miserable childhood, her terrible mother, her awful siblings. Only the old dwarf, a retired adventuress, was kind to her.

She feels a wave of tears approaching. Tiriel chokes on them and at that moment Astarion's hands hug her tighter.

He is very well aware of his surroundings when he trances.

Tiriel brushes her finger along his ear forcing his body to stir.

"I thought you slept longer than me," he mutters, slowly returning to reality.

Tiriel hugs him tighter, caressing his back’s scars. Gods, she loves it when he is like that!

Conscious and aware of his surroundings but absolutely unable to make coherent movements and dominate the situation.

"Can't sleep."

"Considering what we've been through it's rather alarming", he wakes up and leans on his elbows and Tiriel shivers, feeling the cold air between their bodies.

And then he notices.

"You've been crying, haven't you?"

Tiriel's mind interprets it as a signal and she bursts into tears. But who is crying? Tiriel the Barbarian or that nameless girl she once was?

Astarion sits up and tugs Tiriel into him, cradling her in his arms. She notices the utter panic in his crimson eyes changing to something else, something she can't yet identify.

"Hush, love, whatever it was, it's in the past - or we can kill it"

"It's just... I don't know..." Tiriel finds her voice. "It was so real. Now I know how it feels when you are tortured in your reverie. Do you think that can happen to me, too?"

"I have never heard of half-elves being able to meditate. It's something only Tel'Quessira can do. Even the ones with human blood, but who still pass as elves, have difficulties with that. What was it?"

"My bastard stepfather, my bitch mother, and my cut ear"

Astarion presses his lips to her forehead. Then he kisses her cheeks and fingers - there is no lust or desire in it, he kisses her like a parent would kiss a sick child, trying to soothe their pain.

It really does make her feel better.

She sighs. "I really need to sleep. But I can't."

"Then don't. Why torture yourself?"

"Because it will be a long night once the sun sets."

"Not an answer, Tiriel."

Tiriel smiles. Astarion doesn't have any pet names for her - sometimes calls her "love" or "heart" but mostly it's just Tiriel. And her name dances on the tip of his tongue, ringing like a prayer, like a spell.

He brushes his fingers along her ear lobes, then swipes along her facial scar and kisses her neck. She feels his fangs but he doesn't try to bite.

Astarion rarely feeds from her - usually when nightmares grip him or there isn't enough food for him.

"Astarion."

"Hm?"

"You can bite me if you want."

"Who am I to say no to such a generous offer. Although, are you sure?"

"Yes, the blood loss will make me dizzy. And I will be hungry once wake up."

"Absolutely not a problem my dear, there is plenty of prey in the woods."

Astarion helps her to lie back on the bedroll and kneels beside her. She notices the predatory spark in his eyes.

The fangs pierce her skin and Tiriel feels like drowning in the cold water. Her eyesight gets blurry, and a gentle numb feeling spreads through her body.

As he releases her, the darkness takes her. There are no nightmares, no memories - only peace.

***

Astarion leaves the tent and breathes the cold autumn air. Night calls upon him and so is the hunt. Well, Tiriel will be hungry like a starved wolf once she wakes up. And she will also crave something sweet.

Sometimes she is brave and fierce and sometimes she is like a little girl asking for candy after a rough day.

Tiriel never had a good childhood. It still drives Astarion mad - he was an adult when all that abuse happened to him. And there are probably still people alive who decide it's a good idea to beat a child, cut her ears, starve her as if she were at fault for existing.

Tiriel could have grown up bitter and evil, and she had the right to be like that; instead, she became the kindest and bravest person he has ever met.

Brave enough to let him close. So kind to find good things in him. She is clumsy, rude, and loud but delicate at the same time. There is some ghostly elegance in Tiriel, a gift from her elven ancestors. Mixed with the stubbornness and fire that are innate to humans.

Well, maybe, they should go look for her home village together and beat some asses. Tiriel will definitely feel better about it. He still remembers how she kicked Cazador's dead body once they were all ready to leave the dungeons.

 Her kindness is paired with violence, and that's another thing he loves..

"Sleep well, love," he whispers. "I will be back before you wake up."

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

If you’re fine with it, can I request a drabble with neighbour!jason with the first time they met with Jason helping reader move into her apartment and all the grannies getting excited?

"What the fuck?"

Jason rolled to his feet where he'd crashed out on his couch 4.2 seconds after stashing his gear and taking his boots off and staggered to the door.

A loud crash and string of muffled swearing had him flinging open the door- only to be met with a sweet, if sweaty face and boxes that had toppled off a moving dolly and onto the floor.

"Lady what the-"

"Sorry," you say quickly, hurrying to pick stuff off the floor, grunting with effort, "I uh- Just trying to get this moved in and then-"

Neighbors were, Jason was sure, eagerly listening in. He lived on a floor of mostly older people with married children who had nothing better to do than try and marry off any person between the ages of 18 and 40... The number of giggling college girls who'd brought him this or that from an aunt or a grandma was appalling. And here, a cute, young thing was moving in right across the hall.

It was enough to make him want to shut the door and just put earplugs in. Or move just to avoid the nudges and meaningful looks.

But, the hand you were holding out to him was trembling and you had these big doe eyes that made you look like a mean look would probably have you in tears and he just... couldn't. Not when he knew he could just move the fucking boxes.

He hears your name and it takes him a second. Sleep deprivation overriding years of Alfred patiently hammering manners into his head- just narrowly missing making it more awkward trying to shake a hand you'd already started to retract, "Jason," he said. "I work nights."

One lie is as good as any other, he supposes. An apology and an explanation as he offers a half smile.

"I work from home- mostly. I uh-"

You look away, looking down at the scattered boxes and start to pick one up, the trembling in your hands making it hard to get a good grip. Which only made it worse.

Jason winced in sympathy, "I can help- if you don't mind?" he offered. He'd lay money on you running from something. Or someone.

"I already woke you up I can- it's fine-"

"Nah," he said, picking up a box easily, "It's not a big deal. You got more downstairs?"

"This is it I uh-" you fluster and push the door open with your hip, pulling the little dolly out of the way. "I just didn't want-"

"Traveling light has its perks," he said, following you inside just far enough to set a box down. Not remarking on the lack of furniture before making short work of the other three boxes.

"Thanks, I uh- I don't have any cash or anything but-"

"I'm not taking your money to heft a couple boxes," he snorted pushing hair out of his face with one hand and stepping back into the hall.

"Would you take some brownies?" you ask, not looking at him. "It's not much but-"

"For 5 minutes of work?" he asked smiling. Small-town kid then.

"I just- I woke you up and then-"

"Easiest moving job I ever helped with," he assured you. "Lemme know if you want help hanging pictures or something... sometime after like 4, though." And before you could stammer out an apology, he turned and walked back into his apartment, gently shutting the door. If it made you feel better, he'd take a plate of box mix brownies and pretend to like them. He'd just have to make sure the Lennox sisters didn't catch on. Because once they did, he'd never hear the end of it.

[hunterbunter3000]

Can we have more with sweetheart and Kruger plssss 🥰

P.s I love your writing ❤️

EEEEE OF COURSE ♡ (and thank you! 🥹🥹 that means alot to me♡)

I'm so sorry I used Google translate for some of the language 😔

Content under the cut!

Tiny headcannon of mine that König is Sebastian Krueger's younger step-brother.

Krueger: Hallo again, kleine Göttin. (Hello again, little Goddess.)

141 Sweetheart, a bit nervous that this man is TALLER than König: Uh, hey Krueger!

Another dumb headcannon of mine is that Krueger is 7'1.

141 Sweetheart, whispering: König what the hell did he call me--

König grips her waist and pulls her close to him.

König, frowning: sie wird dir nicht gehören, Bruder! Dieses Mal nicht! (She's not going to be yours, brother! Not this time!)

Krueger: Oh? Und du denkst, sie wird dir gehören? Ich weiß bereits, dass hier viele Männer um ihre Zuneigung kämpfen. (Oh? And you think she's going to be yours? I already know that many men here are fighting for her affection.)

Krueger, stepping closer to the two: Glauben Sie dass es Ihnen gelingen wird, ihre Liebe zu gewinnen? (Do you think you will be successful in winning her love?)

König: Es ist mir egal, ob ich gewinne oder verliere. (I don't care if I win or lose.)

König, looking at Sweetheart with love in his eyes: As long as she is in my life, I couldn't be more happier.

141 Sweetheart: I am so confused--

--

When Krueger met Sweetheart, he was still apart of Chimera. Nikolai said he needed to provide Task Force 141 some new weapons for a 'messy' mission. Krueger had the urge to come with him when Nikolai said his old friend was bringing someone along. 'For protection.' As Krueger explained his reason to his leader. Nikolai snorts and shakes his head. He agrees anyway.

When they arrived at the meeting spot, Price drove up not too long after them. The Capitan got out of the car first then a tall woman who made Krueger's heart stop beating. Oh, how Krueger folded so hard when he saw Sweetheart.

Nikolai explained that she was still quite new to SAS, but moved quickly up in the ranks. She was gonna be a Sergeant in a couple of months. Krueger was quite intrigued. Nothing was new that she moved up in the ranks quickly, many good soldiers have done that. But what intrigued him was her knowledge of weapons. She broke them down like she was reading a children's book to you. Pointing out which thing does what with manicured hands and fluttering dolly eyelashes. The proud look on Price's face mixed with admiration made Krueger's hair stand up.

"Very knowledgeable, young lady!" Nikolai said as he looked up at her. She chuckles as her hands clasps together near her meaty hips. "Thank you kindly, sir! Sorry, automatics get me in an explaining mood."

Nikolai chuckles. "Not a problem, Sweetheart."

Sweetheart?

Sweetheart.

He called her Sweetheart.

Krueger's eye twitched. Nikolai and Price started talking again while she stood there, eyeing the big loadout with her hands behind her back, resting on her behind.

Stop it, Krueger. Enough. Stop looking. Stop walking towards her. Stop.

He couldn't control himself. His feet moved him out of the shadows and made a stop right behind her. Her perfume swirled up to his nose, the sweet and airy cocoa aroma teasing his willpower.

Her scent travels through his blood stream, wraps around his nerves and tangles in his brain. It's apart of him, forever.

Fuck, he wants to devour her.

Her high pitch yelp snaps Krueger out of his trance. He looks down at her wide eyes and her figure crouching behind Price. "Krueger! I thought you were staying behind." Nikolai asks. Krueger doesn't answer him. He's too busy staring at her pretty hands resting on her Capitan's shoulders.

They shouldn't belong on there.

His gloved hand hangs out for her to shake. "Sebastian Krueger. Apart of Chimera. Nice to meet you."

Price shakes it instead. "Capitan John Price. Task 141. Likewise."

That wasn't meant for you.

Sebastian's grip tightened in rage. Price narrows his eyes at the tall giant's sudden hostility. He could tell that handshake wasn't for him. Krueger lets go and moved his hand to her. She stares at it until her brain cogs move again.

"Oh!" She steps from Price and Krueger's shoulders relax. "Call me Sweetheart. Nice to meet you, Krueger!" She says with a smile.

Her smile...

Oh he's fucked.

--

That was so long for no reason omg

I'm still trying to get used to writing like this- like full on fics? So this is like practice! Lol let me know what you think!

[cod-dump]

Help I am at "zoo animals during covid" level desperate for interaction.

How about a blorbo of horangi and kronig in Skyrim. Their equipment, factions/guilds They're in, companions (favorite place to do it 👀) etc

Please?

Skyrim fixation grabbing me by the throat

___

Horangi is a mixed race werewolf (who was born in Cyrodiil to a Imperial mother but was raised in Skyrim) was with the Companions for a short period but left because he had conflicting views with them. He later realizes he very much agrees with what they do but he's made his choice. So now he's the friendly werewolf that eats bandits and does deeds and quests for people for little to no fee.

Horangi usually relies on his beast form but is good with his hands and a dagger if needed. Tends to not wear armor but if he has to he wears leather armor. He sells a lot of leftover meat, hides, and whatever from his kills. It isn't uncommon for him to provide struggling families with venison.

Horangi lives in the woods, doesn't like going into inns or renting rooms. He is very much at home in the wilderness and has a pack of ice wolves that follow him around. He loves them to pieces and has put collars on them to try to show people that they mean no harm. Each wolf has a name, and three are pups that Horangi helped raise himself. Has killed a hunter for killing one of the wolves, which lead to him putting collars on them to try and protect them.

Tends to not seek much companionship from others and is content with the wolves being his friends. Though he has gone into inns when lonely and sneaked off with men and women to satisfy his more carnal needs. Has seduced a Thalmor before and fucking loves to bring it whenever he can. Horangi worships Hircine and has a very personal relationship with the Daedric Lord. He believes Hircine gave him the gift to be his true self, to live as both man and beast, and is forever grateful.

_

Konig is a Nord, born and raised in Skyrim and is proud of it (though that pride has dwindled drastically due to recent events). Unfortunately was raised by more traditional Nords in Windhelm and ended up joining the Stormcloaks when he was old enough to defend his family's farm. Served as a soldier for years, Talos being the name he has said more than any other. Wears Stormcloak armor and swings a steel warhammer (though is pretty good with any weapon he can get his hands on).

Despite it being drilled into his mind since a young age, Konig doesn't try discriminate against other races. Has stuck up for any elves being roughed by Nords in Windhelm and has knocked many assholes clean on their ass with one well placed punch. When Konig is not serving, he keeps to himself on his family's farm (which is now empty). He is the last of his family's name and hasn't ever had the urge to settle down and have children. His grew up with a very abusive family and swears that he will turn out just like them if he had children.

Konig has offered shelter to many travelers of all races and factions. He fixed up a hold shed to be a extra bed for whoever needs it. Konig has hidden thieves at his farm, runaways of all ages, refugees, and even a vampire or two who needed to escape the sunlight. If someone is in need he's quick to come to their aid.

_

One storm, worse than what Konig had seen in a long time, blew into the Pale. Konig stood vigilant, knowing that this storm might bring someone needing shelter. And low and behold, a man came knocking. He had short, pointed ears and a pale complexion, something Konig hasn't seen before. And his eyes... they had a wild look in them.

"Sorry to bother you, sir. I normally don't do this but this storm is much more than what I am prepared to deal with-"

Konig didn't let the man say much more before he brought him inside. The man didn't get straight to thanking him.

"I have... companions who are also in need of shelter."

"Bring them in."

"You say that now but-"

"Lad, this storm could kill. Bring them in and let them warm up."

The man blinked before he opened the door and called out to his companions. Konig was stunned by a pack of eight wolves come bounding into his home. One particular small pup was scooped up by the stranger, and Konig noticed it had a collar on it. That all of them had collars.

"I was unaware that your companions were..."

"Wolves?"

"... Fluffy."

The stranger snorts and Konig cleared his throat before he grabbed a pelt to give to the man. The man settled in front of the hearth, surrounded by wolves and a pup in his lap. Konig couldn't help but notice how he checked on each wolf, checking their paws for any cuts that the ice might have caused and making sure there was no frostbite on their ears.

"We'll leave once the storm lifts."

"There is no rush, friend."

Truth be told Konig looked forward to any and all guests that came to his farm seeking shelter. He felt lonely but had a hard time reaching out for companionship. He always tried to not bother his guests but this stranger was not like the others. Never has a man treated his furry companions with such care, not like one would show a pet.

"How does one come to being adopted by a pack of wolves?"

The stranger was resting his head on one of the sleeping wolves, pup nestled against his chest with the pelt over top.

"Well... I guess you could say they view me as family."

Konig nods, "You're a werewolf."

The stranger chokes and sits up quickly, the pup making noise at being disturbed, "N-No-"

"Your connection to nature means nothing, friend. I can tell you're a good man who surrounds himself with good company."

The man breathes out in relief, settling back against his wolf companion, who was perked up and alert after his sudden movement. They stayed silent for a few hours before the stranger finally spoke.

"So... I'm Hong-Jin... and you are?"

Konig stared at the man before speaking, "Klaus..."

Then they started talking. Hong-Jim had first brought up how he normally doesn't try to intrude into people's homes but didn't have a choice with the storm. That lead them to just talking about anything and everything. Adventures they've been on (Konig did his best to avoid the topic of his service), their life stories, their companions (Konig brought this up to learn more about Hong-Jin’s wolves), and everything else they could think of.

They talked through the storm and then slept once it lifted. Konig tried to offer Hong-Jin food but the man waved him off and said he would be fine. Then he gave thanks to Konig and left. And Konig couldn't help but feel loneliness at his departure. Konig would go back to his self isolation, only venturing out to the city to buy necessities before returning home.

One trip he returned to a familiar face sitting outside his home. Wolves laid about and one pup grown but still visibly smaller than the rest. Hong-Jim smiles and stood from the ground. Konig was speechless, he had never had someone return.

"I was passing through and thought I would say hello."

Konig stared before he spoke, "Hello."

Hong-Jin laughs and Konig reached up and pulled his hood down as far as he could to hide his embarrassment at the dumb response. He peeked out from the shadows of the hood.

"I brought gifts!"

Hong-Jin pulled out a bag and Konig would see that it was full of trinkets. Konig watches as the man goes to pull out a strange looking ring, mouth acting before he could even stop it.

"Would you like to come in?"

Hong-Jin looks up, stares in his eyes.

"Yes."

Konig would find himself less lonely since Hong-Jin’s arrival. He never planned on having children, but one of the wolves had a litter of pups and fatherhood was sprung upon him. But he gladly faced the challenge. And the farm was no longer lonely or full of bad memories like it once was. Not now that Hong-Jin and the wolves were here.

[grumpymirelurkqueen]

Hi, can I request a fallout 3? Companion reaction to the LW with good karma.

Hi, you're my first Fallout 3 request. You have no idea how happy I am to write this for my favourite companions. Thank you very much for your request. I hope you enjoy it. And sorry for my English mistakes, it's not my mother tongue…

FO3 companions react to LW with good karma:

Butch :

He's not surprised, I mean, you grew up together. You always protected Amata when he was a little shit. But he's grateful you got him out of the shelter before he really went off the deep end. Although he's very embarrassed by that. He's never really been a good person, but he's never been a bad one either. He's not a monster, just an immature young adult.

Sergent RL-3 :

A soldier has to be good, but also firm. My God this poor old robot is torn in two. Your dynamic is like the bad cop and the good cop. If he were human and could drink whiskey, he'd drink to every good deed.

Fawkes :

The one who is most proud of you, of all the companions. Seeing you protect those who can't, killing villains, or recovering children kidnapped by his brothers. That's what warms his mutant heart. He'll congratulate you, give you advice and, above all, say what he thinks about the situation and you. But if your karma goes lower and lower, he'll be disappointed but won't tell you. After a while he'll ask you if you're doing well mentally. He's afraid he hasn't seen any clues. He will stay with you for a while once the karma is bad, but will leave with a heavy heart.

Paladin Cross :

She's happy to be travelling with you, finally someone good in this world. But she doesn't say it openly, a pat on the back. Is the only thing to congratulate you. But if you have to lose your karma, secretly she will be disappointed (depending on your level of relationship with her.). But above all she'll go back to the citadel without a word and with a sad heart for having believed in Father Christmas.

Jericho :

The most hostile of them all. If he wasn't in Megaton, he'd accept a lot of capsules to put a bullet in your head. But somehow he understands that you're not witty enough to be mean.

Clover :

Compared to Jericho, she won't be too hostile towards you. She'll just be disappointed by your behaviour, believing she's found a new dictator with troubled tendencies. She'll just be bitter with you. But she'll still fall in love with you somehow.

Charon :

Charon doesn't give a fuck about your karma. But my God, it feels good not to kill women and innocent children or to put a bullet between the eyes of a simple drunken traveller for Ahzrukhal. But sometimes he's a bit scared of your kindness, he tends to prefer someone neutral or openly nasty. For him, kindness means hiding. And he doesn't want to discover your inclination if you're a fake.

Dogmeat :

This good dog doesn't care about your karma. He'll always be with you, as long as you don't mistreat him or betray his trust in you. A bone, a corpse, a fight plus a caress to congratulate him and he'll be fine. He'll be loyal to you with any kind of karma.

ᴵᵗ'ˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵗʳᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᴰᵒᵍᵐᵉᵃᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ ᶜᵃⁿⁱᵍᵒᵘ.

—————————————————————

[thatonegreyghost]

For your wip game-

Enigma AU

Never Your Father, Always Your Daddy

&

At The End Of Everything (I'll Still Love You)

Pls tell me all you want about them-

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOO!

(Disclaimer! All of these are Genshin Impact fics!)

The Enigma AU: Wriothesley gets dealt a bad hand by fate when his estranged little brother starts working for him. He has to juggle his priorities with his desires, and learns that sonetines, you do get a third chance.(fic is ongoing so I don't want to spoil too much).

Snippet for the future:

"Why do you think that is?" Wriothesley slurs. "Ah, shit, fucking hiccups again."

"Well, you just... this is embarrassing, oh my god... you feel like an older brother to me."

Wriothesley's heart skips a beat. What the fuck?

Never Your Father, Always Your Daddy: The Fontainian magic trio get de-aged and Wriotgesley goes full dad mode. Arlecchino isn't happy with this, but since the House of Hearth isn't equipped to handke children that young, she lets it slide. Lucky for Wriothesley, this is exactly what he wanted.

Snippet:

"That's a baby."

"I told you already! They got... magicked, I guess, and now they're babies!!!" Traveler groans. "Just hold him! You hold his head like-"

"I know how to hold a baby." Wriothesley interrupts. "I just haven't done it in a while."

At the End of Everything(I'll Still Love You): Wriothesley and Neuvillette have the difficult conversation about mortality, the end of human life, and grief. The goal is to prepare Neuvillette. It sort of works.

Snippet:

"We're going to have to think about burials soon." Wriothesley mentions.

And the worst part is, he's not wrong. The salt and pepper streaks of his hair have long since given way to snow white locks, and his prideful stride has deteriorated to a measly shuffle. He's getting older, and they can't ignore it anymore.

"Perhaps." Neuvillette responds, and finishes his glass of water.

Whatever they decide, it'll be a problem for them in the future.

Mostly Wriothesley centric fics, which, fair. I live him. Thank you my friend!!!

[wrongcaitlyn]

HIII i hope the eras was so fun!! i’ve been following u since the she-ra era (remember wrongcatra lol) right as i was starting to fixate on arcane and pjo. AND UR A SWIFTIE SJSJSJ!!! its so crazyy how u like everything i like! i love when editors/writers switch interests the exact same time as me

i loveeee talk ur talk and i was wondering if in the future (like far far farrrr future) solangelo would ever have kids? like adoption or biologically idk!

SDJFLASJDFLSJDFSAF OH MY GOD???sdlkFJSKLDFJ OH MY FUCKING GOD NO WAYYSDFJSDJF????lsDFKJSDF sorry im like dying here i STILL cant believe that some people know me from wrongcatra, that feels like so long ago... WOAH. thats actually so so cool to know that our interests followed like parallel lines omg <333 some sort of soulmate type shit i'd say!

ANYWAY now to actually respond to the ask - thank you so much!!! the eras tour was INCREDIBLE i truly had the time of my life <33 and honestly i have the same thing with finding editors that have the same interests... like whenever i see someone who posts both pjo and arcane im like?? omg???? are we the same person??? i can just tell you guys that i'll be starting to post abt arcane on here as november rolls closer bc the hyperfixation is already creeping up on me again... god i love that show so muchSDJKLF

as for whether theyd have children! i've been thinking about this for a while actually, and im leaning towards no. or at least- my idea is that both of their jobs are just *incredibly* time consuming, and very chaotic, with nico traveling a lot, and will- well, will's gonna be a doctor, so... yeahJKLSDF that speaks for itself! (in case u want more detail, i was thinking of him being a pediatric surgeon? idk why but i also always pictured him working in the er, maybe bc that's similar to what he does at chb, though he could also try to work in a less hectic environment as they grow older, i'm not entirely sure)

so i don't think that it'd be something that they'd even start thinking about for a very long time, just because they wouldn't have time for a kid, they wouldnt' be able to give them the attention they deserved (and with both nico and will having dealt with various levels of neglect as kids, that's definitely something they wouldn't want to put on a child)

HOWEVER. i think that. one day when they're much much older and maybe will changes his job slightly so its less of late nights and stuff, and nico decides not to tour for quite a bit and focuses more on other,,, projects, i think they would foster! probably young children, like before school, so their kids wouldn't have to deal with yk,, the attention of having a famous parent (will knows that issue all too well), but i think that they would actually feel really fulfilled and happy doing that. and who knows, maybe one of those children, they would one day adopt - i'm thinking of it now, maybe a pair of siblings or smth like that, i think it would be sweet :) but yeah, tbh, i don't have that many thoughts on what will happen past the timeline of greatest of luxuries, or at least no definite plans, but i think this is the most likely scenario :)

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Tag Game: OC Interview (Round 3)

Thanks to @willtheweaver for the tag!

Gunblade duo has been on my mind lately, so I'm going to do it with them this time around.

TW: swearing, death threats

Are you named after anyone?

Draven: If I was, my parents never bothered to tell me. Does my last name count? If so then yes, technically.

Octavian: Not to my knowledge.

When was the last time you cried?

Draven: Not recent enough to remember, I can tell you that much.

Octavian: *hesitates* It... it was when I arrived at the southern Draigo stronghold... only to find it in utter ruins and completely empty.

Do you have kids?

Draven: Nope. Octavian likes to bring in strays, though.

Octavian: You say that like you're also not attached to them. None biologically, but I've cared for a fair few lost children, such as Reese.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Draven: No... whatever could give you that idea?

Octavian: Not nearly as much as he does.

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Draven: If I could take 'em in a fight. Could be gun fight, could be fist fight, could be battle of wits. But that's the first thing I think about.

Octavian: *sigh* My sense of smell is stronger than most, so I usually notice a person's scent first. It can tell you a lot about a person. *side-eyes Draven* Is that really what you think about?

Draven: Heh. Yeah. When we met I thought I could take you in a gun fight. Still can.

What’s your eye colour?

Draven: Dark brown.

Octavian: Yellow.

Draven: Sometimes I wonder how it was such a surprise to me that you were part wolf. I mean you got the yellow eyes, the silver hair, the weird sense of smell....

Octavian: *long-suffering sigh*

Scary movies or happy endings?

Draven: Oh definitely scary. I'd love to make fun of whatever you find terrifying.

Octavian: I don't know. I guess I don't have a preference.

Draven: You just don't want to say you're a coward.

Octavian: Cozenson I swear on the celestials---

Any special talents?

Draven: I didn't get my reputation on luck. I'm a fantastic shot and skilled at investigation and tracking, all the things one needs to be a lycanthrope hunter.

Octavian: Fighting and traveling are all I've ever known. I'm good with my knives and if needed I always have my other form.

Where were you born?

Draven: Born and raised in Valdove, on the south side of the western continent.

Octavian: It's... complicated.

Do you have any pets?

Draven: *slowly widening grin*

Octavian: If you say what I think you're about to say I swear upon the fucking celestials that no one will ever find your body.

*the interviewer notes visible fear in Draven's eyes*

What sort of sports do you play?

Draven: I... uh... I used to participate in shooting contests back when I was training at the Guild.

Octavian: Growing up, a lot of my activities involved training, especially in agility. Running, climbing, reflexes, and so on.

How tall are you?

Draven: Somewhere around 6 feet, give or take an inch.

Octavian: I'm slightly taller than he is.

Draven: *mumbles* key word is "slightly"

What was your favourite subject in school?

Draven: I got bored easily when I was younger, hated all of it, did the bare minimum to graduate and get the depths out of there.

Octavian: I have some fond memories of when I was training with a handful of other young devar to reach out to our other forms.

What is your dream job?

Draven: I'm doing it right now! Lycanthrope hunting has the right kind of organized chaos for a person like me.

Octavian: I used to be a messenger for the Draigo, and would travel endlessly between the elven blockade and the southern stronghold. Now, I'm happy enough doing what he's doing, but not for the same reasons.

Draven: Celestials, that sounds boring. Did you even get to know the messages you carried?

Octavian: Usually only the verbal ones.

Draven: You definitely have it better now.

Octavian: ...

I had a little too much fun writing this out hehe :3

Gently tagging @faytelumos @illarian-rambling @overdecorated-furniture @annakayy @thewritingautisticat

@cssnder @phoenixradiant and open tag! :D

Questions Template:

Are you named after anyone? When was the last time you cried? Do you have kids? Do you use sarcasm a lot? What’s the first thing you notice about people? What’s your eye colour? Scary movies or happy endings? Any special talents? Where were you born? Do you have any pets? What sort of sports do you play? How tall are you? What was your favourite subject in school? What is your dream job?

[spacebarbarianweird]

The Dhampirs of the Sword Coast - Chapter 1

Astarion's daughter Alethaine has been an adventurer for six years but the whole experience was, at least, dissapointing. Now the young dhampir has to decide if she has to return to her parents or try her luck in Waterdeep.

This is the first chapter of the longfic dedicated to the adventures of dhampirs, vampire spawns' children. The events are set in 1537 DR, forty-five years post-game. Alethaine's age is 25. The stories about her childhood are here. The most of the characters are original but there will be cameos of Baldur's Gate companions, Forgotten Realms NPCs etc. I am tagging my whole list as usual BUT if you don't want to read this story, feel free to contact me. I will create separate tag lists for different auidiences.

Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

The List of Chapters

Alethaine Ancunin (High Elf/Necromancer) - age 25. Lawful Neutral.

Theris (Tiefling/Bard) - age 27. Chaotic Neutral.

Ulsha (Half-Orc/Paladin) - age 26. Lawful Good.

Alethaine Ancunin decides she will not spend another night in the woods.

She needs a bath. A bed instead of a bedroll and a roof above her head instead of a tent. 

The elf puts her hand into her pocket, touching the silver coins. Not much. Practically nothing if she wants to sleep in one of the Waterdeep taverns. At least something if she is fine with a bedbug house on the outskirts of Crown of the North.

Maybe, sleeping in a tent isn’t a bad idea. It’s much better than the dungeon she was locked in for two months back in Daggerfoll. And for what? She only insulted a cleric. Not her fault he was easily offended!

But the thought of setting up camp and casting protection spells makes her sick. The dhampir’s back is sore because of her heavy traveling sack. And she suspects her leather boots have rubbed her feet raw and bleeding

“One night in the inn, and then I will go to Waterdeep and find something profitable. It’s the richest city on the Swords Coast! There must be something for me!”, she thinks.

“But it’s a city of guilds”, another voice reminds her. “And you are a dhampir, you can't even join an adventuring party without attracting too much attention. It’s difficult to survive on your own.”

Alethaine shuts off the inner voice and enters the Inn. A woman, a dark-haired elf, glances at her from behind the bar.

“Name?”

“Alethaine.”

“Just Alethaine?”, the elf squints her eyes.

Alethaine puts the traveling sack onto the floor. 

“Just Alethaine.”

“No rooms available”.

“Really? I don’t see many people around!” 

“No. Rooms. Available!”

“Then why did you ask my name?”

“You look like a Tel’Quessira. But you aren’t one. I don’t want any trouble.”

Alethaine looks around. From all the possible inns in the area of Waterdeep, she’s managed to go to a place owned by an elf! 

Unlike any other creature in Faerun, elves always feel something is off with Alethaine. They immediately know she isn’t actually an elf and it's not her quarter of human blood to blame. 

Dhampir.

When Alethaine was a child, it was just a word. Her best friend was a dwarf and she was a dhampir. Someone's father was an innkeeper and hers was a vampire. The fact she had fangs or skin too pale for a living person was something everyone in Daggerlake got used to. 

And her ability to walk on ceilings was just a funny ability, not a weird trait. 

But the real world shoves her dhampirism up to her nose, forcing Alethaine to always keep a low profile.

Don't open her mouth too wide to show her teeth. Control her emotions so she doesn't let her eyes glow red. Never use the useful skill of defying gravity and walking on walls in front of others.

And as if being half-undead isn’t enough, the gods decided to give her innate magic skills.

For necromancy.

“Go away, girl,” the innkeeper looks uneasy. It is a fear in a mask of disgust.

“Listen” Alethaine switches to Elven, her second mother tongue. “It’s been a very long day. I am tired as fuck. Maybe, we could negotiate? I have been an adventurer for six years and know a lot of spells. Maybe you have some issues with the undead or maybe someone died and you need to know where the papers for the Inn are?”

The innkeeper loses her patience. Persuasion isn’t Alethaine’s strength.

“You are not a real elf, Alethaine,” the woman laughed.”I don’t know what kind of trick you use to look like that, but you can’t lie to the True People. You stink of death and profane magic.”

“It’s called necromancy.”

The elf lets out a scared laugh.

“I am not talking about that! I have known a lot of necromancers in my lifetime. Maybe you can resurrect an animal or two, it’s not a big deal. But you are not an elf. And I am very much sure you aren’t a fully living person. Go away!”

“Go fuck yourself”, Alethaine says, and then adds a few vicious insults mentioning the elven gods, the woman’s ancestors, and compares the innkeeper to a drow, more precisely, to a drider.

The innkeeper just points at the door. Alethaine picks up the sack and leaves the inn.

As it happens, the weather outside is disgusting. Autumn. The month of Marpenoth. Pretty pleasant time in the South but, hells, miserable in the North.

Alethaine sits down on the porch. Her feet hurt and the dhampir thinks she can smell her own blood. 

I wonder what my parents would do, she suddenly thinks. 

They parted ways six years ago. Her mother, Tiriel the Barbarian, was invited to Luskan as the head of the city guard (and also someone who was experienced enough to beat the shit out of cultists) and Astarion had already been fed with the small boring town of Daggerlake.

Maybe, it was time to return to them? Luskan is pretty far away from Waterdeep but if she gathers enough money to buy a place on a ship…

Of course, Alethaine’s parents will welcome her with open arms, making sure she feels at their new home the same as she felt in Daggerlake. But the thought of returning looking like a stray beaten cat without any money or anything to be proud of loathes her. 

A stupid thought, of course. If Alethine really learned anything by being a lonely adventurer, it is the fact loving parents are a very rare thing. 

Alethaine stares at her pale hands. An elf who isn’t an elf. White skin as if of a dead person. Long pointy ears. A pair of vampiric fangs. 

She doesn’t look like her mother. Tiriel is a tall half-elf with red hair, and freckles dance all over her back and shoulders. Mother would come back after being absent for a week muttering “I killed a fucking wyvern and befriended a werewolf, he is staying in our basement until we sort things out” and immediately doze off in Astarion’s arms. Tiriel is loud, brave, and reckless - Alethaine would always grab her hand when they went to a city market in the surface part of Daggerlake. 

People often asked Tiriel what crypt she had found her pale daughter in.

Yes, Alethaine is a half-vampire. She is much more like her father’s daughter. The same silver hair, though straight, not curly. Fangs. Certain facial features. Tiriel would always say she has his nose and his form of lips.  Alethaine is his replica except for the body warmth, of course. Astarion has none, his skin  as cold as the world around him. 

Meanwhile, Alethaine’s living beating heart runs hot blood through her veins. Half-undead blood, to be honest.

Sometimes Alethaine wonders what his life had been like before he crossed paths with her mother forty-five years ago, in 1492 DR. But it had undoubtedly been something very bad, and Astarion doesn’t want to talk about it with his only daughter. Something so bad that her father, who fears no gods, no monsters, no devils, nothing, sometimes cries with fear in the middle of the night. 

Once or twice, she asked Astarion questions. Just out of curiosity. But he looked at her as if her words had caused him physical pain. 

Alethaine looks up - the rain intensifies. The dhampir shivers.

When she was young she couldn’t wait till the day she would hit the road. She wanted to see the world on her own, to have her own adventures similar to ones her parents had before she was born. 

They both trained her - sometimes her mother just took her into the woods for a week or two, forcing Alethaine to survive in the wilderness using very few tools and things - how to set up a fire, how to find food and identify poisonous plants. Everything which might come to use when Alethaine is on her own.

And also teaching how to dodge a two-handed ax.

“Once the fighter wields it, they can’t do anything. Just look at the blade and use your instincts. You are smaller and faster than I, make it your advantage!” Tiriel would say lifting the ax in the air as Alethaine was preparing to jump away. 

Her father taught her to use daggers and fangs. “Princess, magic is magic but a blade is a blade. Don’t rely on spells”. 

Astarion showed her how to pick up lockets and traps and, most importantly, how to attack a bigger enemy from behind.

“Most of the enemies you will meet will be taller and bigger than you but few of them would see a five-foot-tall elven maiden as a threat”.

They trained Alethaine well, Astarion, and Tiriel. They made sure their daughter could protect herself in this dangerous world.

She wraps herself in a black jacket. Astarion made it for her when she was seventeen. Black, with pockets, nothing unusual except for the embroidery of a red dragon inside and a text in Espruar. Anyone unfamiliar with the Elven language would consider it poetry or a prayer.

It is neither. The text is simple and beautiful like any text written by Tel’Quessira.

Ai armiel telere maenen hir, saren damia.

You hold our hearts forever, our child. 

A short reminder that Alethaine isn’t alone in this world. 

Maybe, fuck the pride, and return to her parents? To the only people who care about her? Six years are enough to understand that Alethaine Ancunin is anything but an adventurer.  

 Someone who is dumb enough to spend two months in a cell for insulting a cleric? Yes. A misfortunate bodyguard who got her client murdered? No doubt. A chronically unemployed dark witch? Absolutely.

But not an adventurer.

“Kill the fucking bard, I am tired of him!” Alethaine hears a drunk male voice.

“Yes. Theris, I told you l would turn you inside out if you come back!” the second voice adds.

“Please, my beloved townsfolk! I am just a traveling bard, performing innocent songs!” The third voice sounds androgynous. “Maybe I could sing something more to your liking?”

“Yes! We would love to hear you sing from pain! You horny asshole”

“Oh, please, your sister jumped on me herself! I couldn’t say “no” to such a lovely creature!”

Not your business, Alethaine, she tells herself but curiosity definitely killed the dhampir, and she looks behind the corner.

A young tiefling with violet skin is holding his lute as if it was a shield as two drunk fools corner him with a very clear intent to beat the shit out of him. One of them is red-haired, and the other is missing an eye.

Theris the Bard tries to keep his cool but his tail betrays his fear. 

Alethaine senses something weird about him. No, it can’t be.

Surely, Alethaine knows she isn’t alone. Her parents released 7000 vampires into the Underdark forty-five years ago, twenty years before her birth. There must be a lot of dhampirs in Faerun.

But she has never met any of them. Until now.

Theris catches her scent and stares in shocked disbelief. 

“Hey, leave him alone!” Alethaine drops her sack, ready to cast a spell. 

“Oh, what a pathetic picture! An elven maiden comes to rescue a bard from their demise!”

“Listen, I hate bards,” Alethaine says and Theris casts a betrayed glance at her. “Honestly, if it was in my power, I would hang them all at the crossroads. Especially the ones who can’t keep their trousers laced. But this… tiefling… happens to be my… relative of a sort… And I would like you to let him go.”

The men exchanged glances. The one-eyed one comes close to Alethaine and she can see he doesn’t have front teeth and his lower canines are rotten. 

“You are a lovely creature, elf. Have you ever received proper care from a real human man? My brother and I are very experienced”.

Using the dagger might be dangerous, Alethaine thinks. She doesn't want to be imprisoned again - and she might be very well hanged for murdering two people. As for the fangs, the men will tell everyone she is a vampire and then she will be staked or burned. 

Alethaine raises her right hand, feeling the concentration of dark magic on the tips of her fingers.

“HOLD!”

The man freezes, unable to move. There is fear in his drunk eyes.

“Hey, what are you waiting for? Drag her inside!” his brother punches the tiefling and steps on his lute. The instrument breaks in two. Theris makes a painful sound like his bones have been broken

Alethaine straightens her back and raises her left hand.

“What is your biggest fear?” she whispers as the second spell is cast on the drunk man.

And then he screams.

“THEY ARE IN MY SKIN! THE WORMS ARE IN MY SKIN! BURN ME! BURN ME!” 

If he wasn’t paralyzed, he would try to get to the closest torch to set himself on fire, but he is bound by two spells and can’t move. 

His brother suddenly realizes something is off and lets the bard go.

“What the fuck wrong with you?” he quivers.

“Everything is fucking wrong with me!” Alethaine laughs. “First l will kill you, and then I will raise you up to carry books for me all around Faerun until I get tired of you! And if you ever tell anyone about me, I will find you and turn you inside out!”

The spells wear off and the one-eyed man collapses on the ground whimpering like a beaten dog. The red-haired man helps him to stand up and they both disappear into the dark.

“Fuck, my lute. What’s a bard without a lute,” Theris stands on his feet. “I am Theris. And you are Alethaine, I’ve heard your conversation with the innkeeper. The bitch hates everyone who isn’t an elf.”

Alethaine stares at the young man. His violet skin is pale as if he had been dead for a few hours. The dhampir fangs are almost indistinguishable from the tiefling ones and his eyes have a natural red color.

“Never seen another dhampir?”

“No! You are the first!”

“Lucky you. I wish I'd never met any of our kind. But alas we never get what we want.”

“But why? What’s wrong with other dhampirs?”

“Everything! We are solitary predators, once we are stuck together in one place, we are fucked!”

Alethaine points at the lute and the bruises. “It seems like you are fucked either way.”

“Can’t deny it. So, Alethaine, what brought you to the City of Splendors?”

“I am looking for work. And to spend a night somewhere.”

Theris scratches his forehead. “There is too much competition among the adventurers. Bad choice. Well, thank you for saving me, I wish I could pay you but since my working instrument is broken I can only offer my gratitude.”

Theris turns away. Alethaine senses something she’s never felt before. It is a feeling of belonging. Sharing the journey and adventures with someone similar to her. 

“Wait! Maybe we could look for something together?” 

“Not interested!” But the tiefling’s tail betrays his thoughts.

“Your tail disagrees”

“Fuck. Bad tail!” Theris bares his fangs. “Oh, fine! It’s nice to meet … someone of my kind… And who isn’t Ulsha.”

“Who is Ulsha?” Alethaine can’t believe her luck. There is one more dhampir around? If she had known, she would have come to Waterdeep years earlier!

Theris hisses. “Oh, Ulsha is a delight! Six feet of anger and angst! So devoted to her blasted Morninglord she forgets her profane origin!”

“But you are friends with her, aren’t you?”

“Oh no, we are sworn enemies. She wants me dead, I want her to come to her senses. And she also killed my fey-dust dealer. The dude gave me stuff almost for free and Ulsha ended him like some vermin. I am still brooding about it!”

The weather is getting worse and the autumn winds start howling like hungry wolves. Alethaine wishes nothing more than a warm bed near the fire. Theris shuts up as if thinking about something.

“I got it! Alethaine, you look much more decent than I do! Well, you still look like a person no one should trust…”

“Careful, tiefling, I might forget about our blood ties and break your horns like they broke your lute!”

“... But Ulsha doesn’t know you and she has this awful paladin trait of assuming the best of strangers. We and Black Death really need a warm place tonight as well.”

“Black Death?”

Theris puts his hand behind his shirt and snatches a small ball of white fur. The ball yawns and pierces Alethaine with two ruby eyes.

“A weird name for a pet rat,” she says.

“Hush, Alethaine, he is very sensitive.”

Alethaine feels an unstoppable desire to pat the rat. She’s wanted to have her own pet for all her life, even tried to foster a kitten back when she was ten. But mortal animals fear her, they sense her undead origin. Horses buckle up in her presence, dogs howl, cats run away.

But the rat is so peaceful in Theris’s hands Alethaine dares to touch it.

Black Death winces but doesn’t run away.

“Hm, he likes you. And he has a very good taste in strangers. Ok, let’s melt that paladin’s cold heart!”

It takes them almost an hour to reach a small tavern almost at the city walls. Alethaine is soaking wet and Theris is no better. 

“Are you sure she is here?” Alethaine asks. The tavern looks abandoned. 

“She is always here. Looking for the poor and miserable and helping them not to fall into the wrong hands. Ulsha! Ulsha, bless us with your divine presence!”

“Get lost, fiend!” someone roars from the inside. “And whoever you brought with you!”

The door opens wide and Ulsha steps outside. 

A tall and muscled half-orc woman in a full paladin outfit leans on her two-handed sword as if posing for a sculptor. The sign of Lathander shines on her chest like a small sun.

“Ulsha, would you be so kind as to let us in so we could talk? Have mercy on your cousin!” Theris makes a pleading look but Ulsha has none of this.

"Cousin my ass, Theris! I have no desire to be relatives with someone who can't keep their cock away from people!"

"It was all consensual!"

Ulsha bares her fangs, which, accompanied by orcish teeth, make her look like a wild bear.

"I don’t want you and bullshit and your… fairy friend at my place"

Fairy friend? Well, it seems like racial hatred between half-orcs and elves goes far beyond mutual dhampirism.

"Wait, you can't be angry that a bard was a being bard! Maybe we can…" Alethaine tries to find the right words not to make Ulsha angrier than she already is. "Re-pay the damage?"

Theris suspiciously looks at the necromancer and then turns his eyes to Ulsha.

"In my defense, I didn't kill anyone! Did you?"

"I am not answering this question." Alethaine crosses her hands.

"GET OUT!" Ulsha slams the door, leaving the dhampirs outside.

“Urgh, I hate her” Theris spits. “I wonder how the fuck she survived her childhood in the Underdark!”

“She is from the Underdark?” Alethaine asks with a shock. “My condolences,” she adds loud enough for the dhampir to hear.

“Yep. Ran away when she was fourteen, got to the surface at sunrise, and gave an oath to never return back. I mean, there are very few dhampirs who are from below there. It seems like the underground tunnels definitely affect fertility. This one is just the worst!”

The door opens again. Ulsha looks disgruntled. 

“I don't need your pity, elf. Or whatever you call yourself…”

“I’d prefer Alethaine, thank you very much.”

Ulsha sighs. “Forgive me, Morninglord. Here is some work for you. If you do it successfully, you are free to stay with me or with the quest giver. He is a kind man. Now, go!”

Ulsha tosses a scroll to Alethaine. Catching the scroll, the elf reads it aloud.

“A cat is missing. Last time seen at Mistshore. Return to Gale of Waterdeep.”

Gale of Waterdeep… If the wizard is truly the one her parents told her about… And if this is THE wizard her mother once saved from offing himself…

"Theris, we have a very rewarding job for tonight!”

--

Tag list

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[neaverse]

literally all of your wips have enticed me but please tell me about the curious mind of a killer and a love for the novels (the sun and the stars) !!

Oh my god, thank you🥺 The curious mind of a killer is a drarry fic that has been living rent-free in my mind for quite some time now. Draco works in the DMLE as a forensic pathologist and has a year of Auror theory (law) under his belt. A lot of mysterious deaths are happening and the killer is untraceable. Robards (the head Auror) asks— read demands— Draco to come work for him on the case. Help him track the bastard down.

Draco and Harry are already dating in this fic and they both work in the DMLE. Harry is an Auror (I usually don't like this occupation for Harry but it's needed for this fic) and he works with Draco on this case.

The worst part is that the killer doesn't seem to go for the same type of victim twice. They're all different ages, genders etc— so there seem to be no motives behind these murders. There are no magical traces, no fingerprints or footprints, no clues— nothing. This fic is gory, violent and it's fucking with my mind— I don't know what else to say about it.

Excerpt:

On the morning of April 26th, two witches in their mid-twenties are found murdered in their home just outside of London, with string-like wounds around their necks and hearts on the floor beside them.

A week later, the body of a middle-aged wizard is found in an alley a few blocks away from the Leaky Cauldron with the exact same wounds.

Then, in late May, three young men are found dead in three separate rooms at the Three Broomsticks. With the same wounds.

“Another one,” Robards grumbles as he shoves a case file across the desk.

Draco looks down at the file in front of him, then he reaches for it. He skims through the case— they are all the same so far— and then he shuts it. “This is the sixth,” Draco notes, gaze landing on Robards. “How have you not caught this bastard yet?”

A love for the novels is a fic I started writing last year. Idk how to properly explain it tbh.

After taking the killing curse to his chest, James wakes up in a room and sees Regulus waiting for him. They walk through the halls, and get to see a glimpse of how their lives could've been, had they chosen differently. It's a lot of missed opportunities, both emotional and happy and just. Idk, a lot?

They see themselves getting married and have children in one. They see Regulus surviving and mourning James in another. They see themselves growing old, travel the world, James joining Voldemort for Regulus, Regulus joining the order etc.

Each life plays out and we see it exactly how it would've happened if they made different choices, however big or small. But no matter what they choose, Regulus and James happen. They always find each other. In every life, in every universe— it's them. Always them.

And most of the lives they see are very very lovely<3

Excerpt 1:

In a different lifetime, Regulus Black and James Potter might have made it. The poets would say it's a tragedy what happened to the two young lovers, one forced into the dark and the other fighting a battle that should not have happened. Perhaps their story will end up making it into romance novels; two star-crossed lovers and a hundred different lifetimes worth of disaster and deaths. Perhaps, in another lifetime– an alternate universe– they returned from Troy hand in hand. Or maybe, there was no war at all. Just life and a thousand little moments filled with love and chaos and joy. Perhaps it's just them, the way it all could've happened if they had chosen differently.

Excerpt 2:

There are pictures of him and all of his friends. His found family. James knows he's dead already, and he halts in front of the picture of Sirius and Remus, the two of them holding hands as Remus leans in to whisper something in Sirius’ ear, which makes Sirius go all red.

“I'm sorry,” James mumbles at the moving frame. “Take care of Harry and Lily for me, will you?”

[loominggaia]

Ima be honest after reading Zoe’s article and all th{ other normalized stuff of Evangeline, I think genociding most of Evangeline’s population is the only reasonable option because Jesus fuck are most of the people there despicable! Like… yeah there are a few decent and even good folk obv’s but their culture is completely unsalvageable and too entrenched into their lives to allow for peace.

While I don't fully agree, I totally get where you're coming from with this. You can thank the House of Humanity for mangling Evangelite culture to this wretched point...Life in Evangeline Kingdom was actually quite peaceful and relatively egalitarian at one time, until these sick fucks rose to power and started aggressively preaching hate.

I think a surprising number of Evangelites don't agree with the House of Humanity and the ways of modern Lindism, but they stay quiet because the loudest, most obnoxious Lindists are also the most aggressive. These are cultish people who are quick to report "traitor-talk" to the authorities. So the more reasonable Evangelites just keep their heads down and go with the flow, maybe protesting in small ways here and there that won't be noticed on a large scale.

The stupidest, most violent, and most outrageous Evangelites are of course the loudest, so they get the most attention. But it really is a small minority at the top of Evangelite society that's pushing all this twisted bullshit, and these same people gaslight the public into thinking it's what the majority wants.

Remember, there is no democracy in this kingdom. Just because policies are happening doesn't mean they are policies the people want...they're just policies the overlords want, and the people are forced to go along with it or else be punished.

I think Evangeline Kingdom can be salvaged, but the first step is to either destroy or reform the House of Humanity. This corrupt church is the kingdom's biggest obstacle blocking any kind of social progress.

While Evangelite culture does appear to have a unique reverence for violence, it's actually not all that unique to them. What I mean is, Evangelites are just more honest about their bloodlust than many other cultures. If you travel the world, you will find just as much violence and depravity in other lands, it's just swept under the rug. Meanwhile Evangeline proudly displays its violence on the mantle for all to see.

I will also mention something about Evangelite slave-fighting culture: this isn't unique to Evangeline Kingdom either. It's most prevalent there, but only because the lax slavery laws allow it to be. But other lands have just as much demand for this sick bloodsport, and you will find that the problem is actually global.

Yerim-Mor arguably has a worse problem with this than Evangeline. At least in Evangeline, the slave-fighting is somewhat regulated by laws, meaning there are things you can and cannot legally do. This sport is illegal in Yerim-Mor, but almost totally unenforced, so slave-fighting over there is the bloodiest, most depraved free-for-all you can imagine. There are no rules in Yerim-Mor, literally anything can happen with zero consequences.

Mogdir Kingdom also has a terrible slave-fighting problem in its eastern territories. Slavery and slave-fighting are also illegal here, but unlike Evangeline, you will mostly find commoner slaves rather than gaian and fae. But because it's illegal anyway, it's possible to see any species enslaved and forced to fight in this land. By contrast, you will never see an enslaved commoner anywhere in Evangeline Kingdom due to the enforced regulations.

It's also a notable problem in Seelie and Unseelie territory, and really every Great Kingdom to a certain extent.

Despite how popular this sport is on a global level, it's still not the type of thing regular society engages in. It's very much an "underground" activity relegated to seedy neighborhoods. Most of the fans are morally corrupted young males; you really don't see many women, children, or family-men at these events. It's the type of sport that sailors, soldiers, slavers, bandits, mercenaries, and other rough-around-the-edges types like to watch and gamble on.

If you ask the average Evangelite family what they think about slave-fighting, they will most likely tell you it's barbaric, pointless, and low-class. I imagine this opinion is shared by most people globally, and those who engage with it are a loud and dedicated minority.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

[phoomwhoosh]

Now I feel obligated to ask how you would envision Daniel (at any age) in the Dragon Age setting. Do you see him as a human, elf, dwarf, or Qunari? Would he be a mage or no? What country would he be from (Antiva seems obvious; the Tevinter Imperium is there for a different style of Italian inspiration, but I do not think he would thrive there...)? Would he fit into any of the game plots or would he just do his best to vibe while the world keeps going through multiple apocalypse events during his lifetime? Would Cobra Kai be part of any of the various organizations or their own little thing (the idea of Johnny being a templar fits but also makes me sad)? Would Daniel have the same level of antagonism with them regardless if he were a mage or not?

Holy crap, okay, thank you so much! Sorry to all other anons but this one is my favorite. XD

So, I thought about this very briefly once and then went “no, stop, you don’t need another AU.” And now I’m really thinking about it and, when I say that, I mean I'm gonna have to put it all under a cut lmao:

I would imagine Daniel as an elven mage who grew-up in a Dalish clan in the Free Marches. (They might've originated in Antiva but moved towards the Free Marches for Reasons.) Which clan? A made-up one lol. His father still died when he was young and maybe Daniel’s grandma is their Keeper. His mom is alive and actually was a city elf but was allowed into the clan because they liked her.

When Daniel came into his magic, it was very strong. He was supposed to become the First but there was a mage born before him who had that status already. So, Daniel was the Second and the clan was considered to be very lucky to have two mage children born into it.

When he was seventeen, the Blight happened overseas and Ferelden refugees came over to the Free Marches. He just happened to meet one of them, a human boy named Johnny. And then he met the other Cobras too. It wasn't totally antagonistic between them. Like, there's still gonna be kind of a rough start but they eventually get along. Daniel meets them near the end of the Blight, close to his eighteenth birthday.

Daniel's clan was traveling and Daniel wandered off because that’s what he usually did when they camped at a new place. He wasn’t a scout, though, just simply liked exploring the different areas. He discovered the humans and noticed one of them (probably Tommy) was sick. The others were worried it was somehow the Blight and Daniel overheard and knew that’s not what it was. He approached, showed them they were wrong and that Tommy had an infected wound. He helped them by healing it and then, well, another human passing by (probably Kreese, who I could see as a templar although he's a disgraced one and not part of the Order) saw an unknown elf “bothering” them and then he realizes Daniel's probably Dalish. He and some others attack Daniel (fearing him telling his clan about them or simply fear of Daniel possibly being a mage due to his lack of weapons and the fact that Tommy's wound is healed).

However, this is about the time everyone learns Johnny’s been a mage this whole time; he was an apostate hiding his status because his mom, Laura, taught him how to. She was an apostate too but died while they were trying to flee the Blight. She showed Johnny how to keep his magic in check and hide it from others. He was fighting with a mace and shield and still uses it even after his magic is found-out.

He helps Daniel by setting Kreese on fire (he survives although is badly burned) and they have to run away. But Daniel’s clan won’t let a human join them and Daniel’s not about to let the other humans hurt Johnny so they sneak into the camp, Daniel gets his stuff, and they flee together.

The other Cobras do catch-up to them, though, and offer to help. It’s a real offer too and so they all travel together. As time goes on, Johnny uses his magic more and becomes a force to be reckoned with. Daniel does too, of course. Don't fuck with any of them. XD

Where does Mr. Miyagi fit? No clue. Maybe he’d be a human who comes across them and teaches them some non-violent ways to defend themselves. After all, Daniel and Johnny are mages in a world that despises their kind. Daniel’s got it even worse being an elf on top of that. Daniel knows how to fight with his staff but Miyagi shows him some neat tricks. They part ways, though, because they have to stay on the move. But maybe they meet-up with him from time to time.

When Kirkwall explodes, they’re in Denerim. Tommy’s the one who hears about that and they all grimace because that can’t be good news for mages.

They’re in Redcliffe when the Breach happens. They were going to attend the Conclave but were anxious about being around so many people. They do go to Haven, though, to try to at least help the survivors and find-out what went on. They consider joining the Inquisition when it forms and decide to do so because it might offer them some protection from Kreese, who is still relentlessly trying to pursue them. They don't say anything about Kreese, though. They're kind of like Sutherland and Company but call themselves the Griffons because griffons were badass lol.

In my canon, Daniel would have a few things in common with my Inquisitor: being a Dalish elven mage from the Free Marches with at least one dead parent. (My Inquisitor's parents are both dead. Sorry, buddy. At least his clan survived!)

The question is, would all of the Cobras be humans? I can imagine Dutch as a dwarf. Maybe Jimmy as an elf or maybe even a half-elf, honestly, who tries to hide the half-elf side of him but his friends know about it. I could see Tommy as an elf. Maybe that’s why his wound really got infected: nobody besides his friends cared because he’s an elf. Tommy wouldn’t have hidden his ears. But Johnny and Bobby would totally be humans. Dutch and Bobby would be warriors; Dutch would wield a big axe (not just because he’s a dwarf lol) and Bobby would have a shield and sword. Tommy and Jimmy would be rogues with Jimmy being a melee fighter and Tommy being a ranged rogue. I accidentally created a balanced party lmao.

Specialization-wise, I could picture this: Tommy (Ranger, Assassin), Jimmy (Duelist, Tempest), Dutch (Berserker, Champion), Bobby (Champion, Guardian), Johnny (Battlemage, Force Mage), and Daniel (Arcane Warrior (Fade Shroud is my favorite thing), Spirit Healer). If Daniel was given a weapon, it would be a sword but he’d probably just stick with his bladed staff.

[angered-box]

[raises hand] i would like to know…about the lads…….

okay so like i'm not gonna try and talk about TOO many but there are a small handful that i can talk about cause i’ve introduced them on here already!! uhhh some are. ocs inserted into canon. because i’m silly :3

I GOT A LITTLE CARRIED AWAY ERM.... and also got embarrassed near the end so i tried hurrying up the last section....

Okok so uhmmm there are some of my oldest ocs i’ve had which would be Wren and Una (and also Xavier but i haven’t drawn him yet so erm.) so like. Their whole story is, ahhh difficult for the most part cause it was created 5 years ago and i was god awful at stories and i’m still trying to fix it so in a summary Wren has adoption papers thrown at him for Una at the ripe old age of 17 because he did not feel right seeing the child of the man he was friends with and saw as a father figure get sacrificed (even if it will help the town not go to shit) because he felt like he needed to atleast give back to the man since he passed. But he takes Una and because of the fact that the town could not kill her the town slowly starts decaying which is kinda fucked up honestly if you think about it. And it’s not like the town can pick someone else it’s kinda predetermined every ten years thanks to the horrific beast that has cursed the town it’s a lil silly👍. But because of that they’re kinda constantly being followed because the town people desperately need Una. So it’s kinda like that for about 5-6 years, Wren is now like 22-23 and Unas about 8 cool? Cool. And for Xavier it’s a lil difficult but he kinda helps them out around that time by taking them in cause he was returning back home to visit his mother (who is very much on her death bed at that point) That's like the most i have for their story i don't have an ending but it gets grim kinda and Xavier is the only human out of the trio that's fun he's also like 25. i don't know what Wren is supposed to be he's just blue, and Una is like half human half sheep demon, i’ve tried to make her appearance like a highland sheep but it's not going so well as of right now lol….

Agh and there’s also my minecraft oc. His name is Box because i did nawt want to come up with a name for him so i just call him that cuz my user on minecraft is the same as here lol… but the funny thing is for him with my silliness he’s basically a retired god. And also a deadbeat parent. Both to his bio children and also like his actual creations he made by his own hands. He stopped being a god because he literally got bored and wanted to travel. He is so avoidant with things and only cares about traveling and tea he’s awful and i love him also he’s old. Really old. And also has fox ears and a fox tail. Did i mention he’s old.

There’s also my dnd character!!!! His name is Ilias and i don’t have a basis of actual lore for him but i loveeeee talking about him. He’s a wood elf who is honestly looks like a sick young tree (he’s like 203 cm tall). You know that image of Charlie from Always Sunny. The pepe silvia scene? That’s his personality kinda but in a more academic way. He is not normal about knowledge, but when is a wizard normal about that shit like actually. He manages to somehow not get insta killed despite having 14 AC and 14 hitpoints…for now atleast. Also he can use infestation, and basically mite blasts people which is really funny. He also manages to get sick about things a lot, don’t let him in a cramped vehicle of any sorts.

Okay so now we have ocs that i have tossed into games cause it’s funny. So there are two characters who are actually siblings, fraternal twins actually! Uh their names are Kisho and Kuran and both of them are for two different games (Kisho is meant for o.bey me and Kuran is for t.wst but this is not about the games i’m about to infodump their lore because holy shit did i fuck things up for them) So the funny thing is for them while they’re twins Kuran is the youngest because he was born like a few minutes after midnight L. so both of them are capable of magic erm both parents are witches ( i actually intend to draw them soon!) and also like the healthiest bio parents i have ever created it’s so crazy (they almost blew eachother up multiple times as teens because they wanted to practice together <3) the difference is Kisho is actually better though because he stuck with his studies and Kuran kinda is just a “fuck it we ball” type person for magic. Oh also did i mention how they’re twins and Kuran is just a day younger? Yea well i lied. So they WERE the same age until they were 11. In which then Kisho had got pissed off at Kuran and ran off to go hide from him to calm down and uh. He kinda got sent to the dimension. By all means he was missing for like 3 days but when they found him he had aged by 3 years. Oh and also he experienced The Horrors and is never going to be the same again and now instead of them being siblings who did a lot together and managed to be on the save wavelength they’re now so vastly different because of Kishos experiences and also the fact he is very much no longer in the same state of mind. Anyways Kisho is like 20-21 and is currently working on becoming a historian and philologist whereas Kuran is like 17-18 going into fashion design. They have issues and it’s honestly really bad but one just puts everything in a cupboard and quickly closes the door before everything falls and the other pretends that his issues aren’t there. Also Kisho is transmasc YAYYYYY YAYYYYYYYYYYY. (Also because i’ve made art of them before i’ll give a description cause Kisho has green hair whereas Kuran is blonde :3)

(i started skipping A LOT of major things about this character due to getting embarrassed and scared of talking too much but i’m going to show more in the future)

Uh and last one i can kinda talk about would be Akihisa…. Where to start erm… so he’s my silly little rabbit and i torment him. He has the most issues while also like the least. First off he doesn’t live with his biological parents he was adopted ^-^ so like….. essentially . hmmm. Okay so essentially his father came from outside of Japan when he was a bit younger to pursue filming (which he didn’t stick around in but it’s okay) and he met Akihisas mother who was (and still is) a model. So their relationship did not work out but hey they have a kid now. The kid doesn’t have a mother whose permanently in his life and the father is kinda. Yeag. ANYWAYS so the fun thing is his dad was able to get help from his college friend to look after Akihisa because he had to leave (i’m sorry i’m lazy right now and don’t want to give the actual explanation) and this is when the Komatsu family comes in because they basically adopt him. So this family consists of Mrs Komatsu who is Akihisas fathers friend and she’s an actress who mostly just does smaller roles but anyways there’s also her husband who is a literature professor at a local college and then the siblings are Toshiko (eldest), who works as a model agent, and Ikuya (youngest but now middle child) whose actually in a unit (it’s more so an actual band he’s not a idol but you know what i mean) and is the reason why Akihisa wanted to become an idol in the first place. Also when he first went to yumenosaki for the first like two years he had dyed hair, specifically black hair because he didn’t like standing out from his family. ALSO in !! he’s a graduate just a fair. Information. He also was the leader of his ex-unit and it has the worst fucking name you could have everrrrr named something. It was literally called THE ODYSSEY… and also he was like not prepared to be a leader he let his unitmates walk all over him until the very end when the group split. Also one of the unitmates in that group became the leader of the current unit he’s in and it’s obviously a lot more functional now.

 I’m starting to get tired i’ve been writing this document for 3 days and just spent atleast 3-4 hours writing the rest of this. This is like. The bare minimum of a summary for all my ocs and i am so sorry for that…

[bottlewoman]

My city has the worst fucking transit system

I hate it with a fiery passion and I want who ever redesigned the routes to die from excessively stubbed toes.

[lazarettta]

Misthios II

Characters (Mother Miranda, Reader, Lady Alcina)

Word count (3.1k)

Rating (M)

Warning (little NSFW, language)

Did you really think that Miranda was going to let you leave so easily? Again?

Anything italicized is a flashback...this is part two to Misthios

Your time with the Vikings was fun but all good things had to come to an end. Over the years, you hadn't been too keen on letting too many people in on your secret. Your friends and makeshift family were getting older and you weren't. You were still fit for battle and as young and strong as you were twelve years ago. You knew that you'd overstayed your welcome but you weren't ready to leave until there were too many comments about you not aging a day. It had taken you a week to get your steed ready for long travel and to make sure that you had everything necessary, including the coin to purchase more supplies should you need it.

You weren't above doing odd jobs during your travels if needed. The viking children ran alongside you and your stallion as you both trotted out of the village until you were on an open road. You saluted them before taking off into a run following the lead of your war horse, allowing her to dictate your travels until she decided that she needed a break.

You had all of the time and opportunity in the land.

You traveled like that for a few days until you were coming upon a village but the path was winding and would take some time but you had plenty of daylight and were in no rush. Everything was peaceful until you came across an overturned wagon and nearly trampled over a body laying face down into the soft ground. The dark puddle around him did not indicate that the man would be rising soon.

You were quick to draw your bow and arrow, a good distance from the fight and you had an advantage in case any of them came for you. There was a black flag on the ground near the wagon but it held an insignia that you didn't recognize but you knew royalty when you saw it. The soldiers had the upper hand but there were a few of them dead as well. On the other side, you saw one of the bandits jump on the back of a horse to leave.

Without much of a thought, you raised your weapon of choice and not a second later, you felt the smooth wood of the arrow slip between your calloused fingers and you watched proudly as it found a home in the base of the man's spine, effectively halting his escape but leaving him alive for the time being but he was not without suffering.

It was at that same moment the last bandit was struck down. The remaining soldiers turned to you with their swords raised but before anything else could happen, a sharp and clear but decidedly feminine voice stopped the misunderstanding before it could happen.

A woman with light-colored long hair stepped from behind a large oak tree with two foot soldiers in tow. She didn't seem to care about the ends of her dress being sullied by the mud and blood on the trail as she made her way towards you. You climbed down from your horse when she was closer, not surprised that you were taller than she was but she wasn't that much shorter than you really.

Most other women you met that were your height or taller were fellow warriors. Her eyes were what really startled you, they were so clear they were almost white. They did not have a clear color to them, not one that you could see.

“You are a very long way from home, Viking.”

“Yes, in search of a new one.” you glanced over her shoulder briefly to the soldiers dealing with the one who tried to escape, his agonized yelling startling a nest of crows nearby.

“You don't seem like the type to miss a killing shot.”

Your gaze fell back to her unwavering one and you fought the urge to fidget under her stare even though you were the one towering over her. Her posture was none threatening and her smile had a teasing tilt to it, but her eyes...they pierced your soul, pinned you. You were unsure if you wanted to run from them or figure out how deep they went.

“I figured your King and Queen would want one alive to question.”

“The King has been dead for a long time now.” The woman tilted her head back slightly as if looking at you in a new light and you straightened your back and pushed your shoulders subconsciously and the corners of her pale lips curled a little more. “Have dinner with me tonight, viking, as a token of my gratitude. Those bandits have been quite a torn in my side for a very long time now. Thanks to you, maybe now I will find their leader.”

~~

The physical ache you felt when waking up was around your throat, well your whole neck. Your skin had long since healed over but it took the aches and bruises a while longer to go away. You don't know how long you've been unconscious but even without opening your eyes you knew that you were no longer outside on the side of a mountain which meant that she didn't kill you. But she still hurt you. You didn't know if she showed restraint because you both knew that killing you would be pointless and temporary or she truly didn't want to see you harm even if she was upset with you. You knew that it was the former.

Upset being the understatement.

You opened one eye then the other, wherever she put you it was warm if not a little moldy and it was definitely dark, you weren't quite sure if the torch on the other side of your cage helped any. Maybe it wasn't meant for you to use to see but to ensure that you wouldn't go completely insane in total darkness. It made more sense, you wouldn't want your prisoner to look around either lest they find something to use to escape.

You moved so that your back was against the stone wall, mildly surprised to find that it was a little damp. Your neck was still covered in dried blood but you didn't bother trying to scrape it off, knowing from experience that it wasn't the most pleasant feeling and one you chose not to deal with at the moment though you did pick away the random straws of hay from your skin as you'd been laying on it.

If you had to guess then you were in a basement, whether it was hers or not—you couldn't just sit there. Your backpack was long gone, you didn't have to look around your little cage to know that much. You checked for your gun not surprised to find that it was gone...she even took the damn holster.

You checked for your knife on your waist...gone. You checked the one that was hidden in your boots, or was supposed to be but it was gone too. Even after all this time, she knew you all too well. But even without weapons, a small cage like this wouldn't be enough to keep you. You just needed a plan but you had no idea where the hell you were. You reached up to feel your neck where you remembered her nails digging painfully into your flesh...

Gold plated armor, soft leathers and the finest silk that currency could purchase found themselves haphazardly tossed about all over the floor of the room. They reflected nicely against the small flames of the candles around the room.

The room was temporary, a small stop during your travels across the sea—this was merely a supply stop, but with the weather so severe, the waves were slaves to Poseidon's wrath. The ship was safer docked but she wouldn’t spend another night on board if she didn’t have to.

And didn’t, neither of you did. You were her personal champion—you went where she went. She pointed, and you left a path of bloody boot prints. Her wish was your command.

She laid bare before you, it wasn’t a sight that many were blessed with and no matter what sin you’ve committed at this woman’s whim (hell, even your own), you always thanked the Gods for giving you sight.

The fireplace is the only thing lighting up the entire room behind you both, you could feel the heat of it drying up your sweat but not all of it. You were straddling her, knees on either side of her waist—one hand on her waist and the other by her head, fingers interlaced with the hand that wasn’t reaching back clutching you tight, nails digging into your skin but that slight pain only fueled you.

Her light hair was out of its strict confines and complicated royal hairstyle, now splayed across her blemish free back and the pillows.

This was your reward; having her. You did exactly as she asked, you brought her the heads of those who crossed her and bathed in their blood and in the blood of their loved ones. You left no stone unturned simply because it was her wish.

And in return…you got her, however you wanted. But even trapped underneath you—she was never not in command. You placed your other hand next to her head as well, feeling her cool breath ghosting over your fingers turn sharp and unsteady when your hips snapped forward without warning. Her fingers tightening around yours. She tried to push back against you to take back some control but you met her attempt with untamed energy. Miranda's breathy chuckle tapered off into a mix of a growl and a moan when you did it again and again…

Shaking your head, you let it fall back on the hard wall behind you with your eyes closed. You've longed since buried those memories but they were fresh, as if they were made yesterday. The ache in your heart felt fresh too.

Then you felt it. No you felt her. Her presence was so strong, nearly suffocating and that feeling of dread was crawling up your spine again and you suppressed a strong shudder. You reluctantly opened your eyes, knowing that those eyes you fell so hard for would be looking back at you—the same eyes that tore to shreds. Even after all this fucking time...

You exhaled slowly and heavy, content to just stare at your boots, “I didn't expect to find you here of all places...”

“Would you have come if you'd known that I would be here?”

You looked up and saw that her startling bright eyes were staring back at you, still just as clear as the day you first met, “Why am I in this cage and not dead in a ditch? Besides the fucking obvious.”

She didn't say anything to you for a moment, simply standing there staring at you—drinking you in, it made your skin crawl, both good and bad. If she was bothered about you blatantly ignoring her question, it didn't show—or at least that damn mask she was wearing hid it away from you. All those emotions you'd long since buried and thought you dealt with came bubbling back to the surface like bile in the back of your throat but you kept a tight rein on it. Your explosive temper never dulled over time but you got better at containing it.

But no matter how good you were with restraining yourself, Miranda always knew. You could see it in her eyes. You hated her for it.

“I felt you the moment you arrived.” she said instead after long minutes of unblinking silence, she edged closer to your cell, unconcerned with the fact that you could lunge forward at any point and grab her. “I'm relieved to find you're still alive...and in good health?”

“Either kill me and ditch me somewhere, or just let me go, Miranda. I'm not doing this with you.”

“I cannot and will not do either, (Y/n).” she responded coolly after another minute of silence, keeping your gaze now that you've given it to her, “I just got you back, I'm not going to let you leave me so soon. Not again.”

“You didn't really give me a choice the first time!” you snapped back despite what you told yourself earlier about keeping calm and breathing, but seeing Miranda now—even more beautiful than she was before? It was too much at once. “You made that decision for both of us.” you said, much more quieter but she was close enough to have heard you perfectly fine and you were finally able to look away from those burning eyes.

“You're different.”

“The world is different.”

“Time has made you soft.”

You scoffed, “Would you like to borrow some of it? I mean...what the fuck is this? Where am I?” She regarded you calmly as if she was assessing you, but her eyes were roaming too much to be a simple assessment and you just laughed, sharp and unforgiving, you couldn't help yourself, “Do you feel guilty? Did you ever?”

“I don't have time to feel guilty!” she answered a little too quickly and you saw how her shoulders shifted slightly beneath those feathers, always a tell sign of hers that you never failed to notice and honestly you were surprised that you still even remembered her tales. She was so obviously different, you both were but this dance? While off tune and tense, was still your dance.

“Right, I see.” you tried to ignore it, you really did, but a little piece of your heart fell away at her admission because there was still a small part of you that still longed for closure.

“(Y/n)...”

“Do you even remember what you're supposed to even feel guilty for?”

“Stop it! You're not being fair!” she growled at you, pressing closer against the bars—if she pushed anymore she'd probably break the damn things, or materialize right through them but that didn't stop you from scrambling to your feet to meet her head on, refusing to let her have the full advantage.

“Neither were you! I...” you stopped abruptly, literally choking on your words and you forced yourself to close your mouth and Miranda watched every single emotion drain from your face as if you had flipped a switch and her hands balled into even tighter fists at her sides, unsure what to say and you had nothing left to say.

You two stood staring at each other, once again. Eyes locked but not a word more was said. She reached up, one hand wrapping around an old iron bar, her engraved golden nails clinking softly against the metal.

“Mother Miranda.” a firm but sinewy voice echoed around you both, calling for your attention and it was feminine but you couldn't see who it belonged to. She was just out of range of the cell entrance and you'd have to move closer to Miranda to see who it belonged to—and that wasn't something you were interested in doing, “I apologize for the interruption...but we have a problem.”

“What.” Miranda hissed, her voice no longer soft and velvet—the only way you could describe it was deity like. Stronger, harsher and it would've been scarier if you didn't know the woman behind the mask.

“That fool Heisenberg let that man thing escape the forest and he's now roaming in the village.”

“I see.” Miranda's eyes fell to you again, radiating more power than they did earlier. You'd been so busy arguing with her, you hadn't heard the other woman approach and you wondered how much of that she actually overheard, “When you are ready to talk, I will be waiting for you, my little warrior.”

“Stop calling me that!” you spat, glaring at her irritatingly, “I'm not your anything...perhaps your enemy. You'd do better by just letting me leave, Miranda because you and I both know that killing me isn't an option.”

“And I already told you. I'm not letting you leave me, not again.” she was suddenly right in front of you, inside of the iron cage and you had no fucking idea how she did that but she was too close but the stone wall behind you didn't give away, no matter how hard you pressed. Her eyes were softer now, and you actually had to crane your neck a bit to see them, even at an even six feet, “Learn the truth then you decide if you wish to leave or to stay.”

“The truth?” you scoffed, well aware that you two still weren't alone, “The truth has long since past to be of any interest to me.” you lied straight through your teeth all the while looking into her eyes, you saw a speck of emotion but it was hard to tell when they were so alive, “I don't care about your truth anymore, Miranda.”

“You may not...but I do. Did our love mean nothing to you?” you both ignored the startled noise behind you, “All those late nights and early mornings? I think about them often when this life permits me to...I...do have regrets, (Y/n)...and wishes, most never granted.” she admitted, quietly—her deity voice gone for the moment, “One of my biggest regrets and my biggest wish was you, (Y/n).”

You didn't know how to unpack that in this moment because Miranda suddenly had both her hands on the wall, trapping you as she leaned closer—you knew what she was doing, hell she even knew what she was fucking doing? Was it working? Like the fool you were—it was.

“Allow me time to settle this issue and then we will talk, (Y/n).”

You could see the uncertainty in her eyes, and you almost told her to go fuck herself...it was on the tip of your tongue but your heart was still as stupid as it was thousands of years ago. You kept your lips firmly pressed together, but nodded curtly almost reluctantly. She didn't smile, not really, but that familiar curve of her lips made you tense a little. You were a fucking idiot, and you knew it.

“Lady Dimitrescu will house you. I will send for you when I am ready.” she lingered for a second longer, seeming to want to say more. Suddenly she pushed herself away from you and walking out of your cell with ease, pushing the heavy door out of her way leaving you bewildered.

Had it been unlocked this whole time? She hadn't even bothered to retrain you, but she knew you wouldn't make a move because now she had now something to keep you behaved long enough and you agreed to it.

Ayyye Alcinnaaaa! Idk who's playing but Donna's house scary as shit. Y'all fuck with this story?