#the red/fire one is ignis

[mischeva]

Disney/Don Bluth villain looking ass

[genshin-impact-updates]

Solitary Balemoon in a Sky of Fading Stars

"Fate grants favors to no one. Only those who would fight it with every ounce of their being may earn the right to challenge it."

— Pierro, "The Jester"

◆ Name: Arlecchino

◆ Title: Dire Balemoon

◆ Head of the House of the Hearth

◆ Vision: Pyro

◆ Constellation: Ignis Purgatorius

To this day, Arlecchino still recalls that night when she was first appointed as a Harbinger.

Up the stairs and down the long gallery, with naught to see through the windows but a world of ice and snow without end.

The biting wind wailed loudly, now as mirthful laughter, now as somber farewell—

With a start, Arlecchino came to, the hallucinations of her memory mingling with the sounds of real-life conversation that surrounded her.

The hearthfire burned with vigor, its gentle warmth pervading the room, and its red light glowed on the children's faces, lighting up their innocent, unaffected smiles. If some uninformed passerby were to stumble in at this precise moment, they would surely mistake the scene before them for that of an ordinary, happy family.

But just as Arlecchino raised her steaming cup to take a sip of scalding-hot black tea, the clock began to chime — and within an instant, the laughter and cheer that filled the room were banished. The flames flickered so that for a moment the light faltered, the faces of all present cast in somber expression.

Placing her cup back down, Arlecchino stood up, and in a calm, measured tone, called out several names:

"Chapleau, you're with Lyney. Retrieve the required intelligence. Foltz, you and Filliol are on guard duty. Stay back and tend to the Hearth..."

"Yes, 'Father.'"

Without a redundant syllable, nor a hint of hesitation, they answered as one.

Not long after, the fire had dwindled and the house fallen utterly silent, with nothing to be seen but a single shaft of infiltrating moonlight, peeking through a gap in the curtains upon a cup of gradually cooling tea.

[tteokdoroki]

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— just for tonight, i don’t hate you + katsuki bakugou.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — when there’s a bounty over your head and a reward for your safe return to your soon-to-be husband and future king, touya todoroki… you should be mindful of who you fall for. you should pretend to hate the man who seeks the prize money you’d bring. and the dragon prince, katsuki bakugou, should probably do the same.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up, smut, angst, arguments, one-bed trope, enemies to lovers, love confessions, arranged marriages, fingering, marking, biting, scratching creampies, hair pulling, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, slight!infidelity, fantasy!au, fem!reader, dragon prince!bakugou.

⭑ words — 2.8K.

⭑ notes — happy valentine’s day my sweets!! here’s a precious little fic for you, a commission from the darling @peonies-and-teacakes and beta read by @yuki-no-akumu !! i hope you guys enjoy and remember that ily <3 mwah mwah !! - m.list ✩

“s-sir…i am so sorry.”

don’t. 

“t-there’s been some kind of mistake!”

don’t you say it.

“unfortunately the room at our inn you’d requested for tonight has been double booked…”

don’t you dare say it.

“we can only offer you the alternative which is a single bed, again sir, i-i’m so sorry.” 

it’s not the clerk’s fault, it’s a simple mistake that anyone could make at an inn located in one of the busiest travelling towns in all of Aethopia— but it shouldn’t have happened to katsuki bakugou. it’s the worst thing that could have ever happened to katsuki bakugou. “you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” the dragon prince snarls, almost resembling the mystical creature acting as his tribe’s crest— teeth white, sharp and menacingly on display. “all this fuckin’ coin spent on a useless, shitty inn ‘nd you can’t even book the right room?”

the clerk shrinks back, visibly shaken as they hand over a set of room keys to the blonde. “s-so sorry! s-sir!” they add timidly, flinching as they clatter into bakugou’s palm and he snatches the metal away from them.

“sorry ain’t gonna cut it, what a waste of my coin! i ain’t ever comin’ back to this shithole.” he continues to snap, and with a swish of his red woven cape, bakugou’s gone— storming away and outside of the reception, filled with enough rage to fan the flames of a dragon’s fire. you’re waiting for him with his horse, tending to it as he steps into the cool outside. the forest trees sway with the prince’s arrival but don’t do anything to distract you from running your fingers to the snow-white coloured steed. 

you’re beautiful and that angers katsuki. you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen in all of the moons he’s existed— you shine under the light of the silver crescent, as if glitter is speckled all over your skin or you’re covered in a layer of diamonds.

your smile as his horse chuffs and nudges you with its head is precious, more valuable than any gem found in this world’s greatest mines. your dress isn’t made out of the finest materials, but it fits perfectly around your sweet dips and curves— it’s pretty. you’re pretty. there’s something about you that makes a mess of katsuki’s pulse, that steals his breath away and he hates you for it. 

you’re supposed to be an ordinary girl, you’re supposed to be just a pile of coin to him— a reward for returning you, prince touya of Ignis’ runaway bride. there was a hefty bounty hanging over your head for your safe return to his royal highness’ side, for you were to be the tool that helped to clean up prince touya’s act and get him prepared for kingship. again, you weren’t meant to be anything more to katsuki, in fact, if he had to he would force himself to despise you— you make him miserable, he has to remind himself that you’re just a prize. nothing more, nothing less. 

despite the blonde’s plan to have you back in the hands of the todoroki family— he’s had his doubts. rumour has it that touya todoroki, better known to lesser folk as dabi, is an evil brute. one with little regard to the women he’s kept or invited up to his royal chambers. other whispers on the street have mentioned that you were a spoiled little village girl from within their kingdom, refusing the life the todoroki’s were to offer you. 

that was another reason for bakugou to hate you— you were a brat that ran away because touya wouldn’t feed you with a silver spoon, because he was the first man in your existence to be unkind and you couldn’t find it in yourself to put up with it despite being set for the rest of your life. 

katsuki bakugou of the dragon tribe had found you just outside of his territory— half dead, your clothes torn and a second away from being hunted by the mythical monsters that prowled them. you resented him, for what he did next. you had the audacity to be mad at the dragon prince for saving your life and nursing you back to health. you blame him for the miserable outcomes of your life and for having his heart set on returning you back to touya todoroki, blaming him for it all.

at the time, the pair of you had argued. bakugou had called you a stupids and naive little girl— who wouldn’t want to be married to a future king? you wouldn’t have a single thing to worry about if you did, your every need would be taken care of without you even asking. you wouldn’t have to kill for your next meal, worry about when or where you could sleep next, spend every day fighting for survival. clearly you both had different views on the world, and what should have been gratefulness turned into hatred.

bakugou had tied your wrists, dragged you kicking and screaming back on the route straight to the todoroki castle— reuniting you with your Prince Charming. so far, you’d made this journey hell, almost cost him fights and got him in trouble with clients or employers. you were embarrassing.

and in your eyes? katsuki was your fairytale villain. he was a selfish, ugly bastard who wouldn’t let you steal your freedom, all for some money. you hated bakugou with every fibre of your being and every ounce of your heart and he knew. he knew this, but that didn’t make it any easier to handle when you look at him like his every step scorches the earth.

scowl at him like you do now.

like he was the most awful man in the world. like he was touya. who he had heard from stories didn’t handle women in the best of ways.

“what, ya still mad at me, princess?” bakugou asks as he approaches you, the twigs snapping under his boots grabbing your attention. 

before arriving at the inn, the dragon wielder had told you that you were a useless airhead— one that couldn’t survive on her own and needed a man to save her. you’d slapped him hard without hesitation and neither of you’d spoken until now. “of course i am, don’t ask stupid questions, you barbarian,” you spit harshly, turning back to the horse at hand. “did you get the room? i’m tired and sick of looking at your face.” 

he almost flinches back to avoid being hit by your venomous words but instead retaliates. “i did ‘n yer stuck with me, sweetheart, there’s only one bed.” 

“you’re kidding, right?” your eye twitches as you spin on your heel to face katsuki once more and the blonde braces himself for an onslaught of your slander. “oh! bakugou. you’re such an incompetent fool. you can’t even book an inn on your own, so you need a woman to do that for you?” you throw his words from earlier back into his face like an acid burn that’s been waiting underneath your tongue.

“i didn’t wanna be stuck with your ass anyways! quit complainin’!” 

“well, if you insist on not being stuck with me, perhaps releasing me before we reach the todoroki’s is a good idea—“ 

“— fat chance, princess.” bakugou scoffs back. “not with the bounty over your head. puttin’ up with your shitty attitude will be fuckin’ worth dealin’ with until you’re back with ‘em.”

he doesn’t give you a chance to retort, heading back into the inn whether you follow him or not. 

katsuki is glad that you don’t, at least not straight away— wanting to calm down the ache you’ve inflicted upon his hatred-blackened heart.

though he might hate you, katsuki can always tell when you’re crying.

around the same time every night and throughout your travels, your shoulders shake as sobs rack your body while you think he’s fast asleep. of course, the dragon prince feels bad— he’s practically handing you off to the devil in exchange for a lump of cash. you’ve been down on your luck and the blonde feels partially responsible for that. 

rolling over to face you, bakugou watches with a deep frown as you keep your eyes on the wall opposite you— not daring to acknowledge him. “‘m sorry… about what i said,” he feels guilty but only just, unsure of his next words. “‘bout this touya thing… and all the men that have hurt you. i’m—” he takes a breath. “sorry about everything. i only treat you that way ‘cause i don’t want ya to end up lost like me…” he doesn’t want you to fall for him, to stay with him.

silence echoes between you both but katsuki can tell that you’ve calmed down from the way your body stops shaking and your hiccups quieten down. “you care about me, bakugou?” rolling over, the blonde finds himself lost in the sparkle of your galaxy eyes yet again— hating you for it, fighting down his love for you.

you’re close, way too close and everything beneath the sheets is hot. “shut up, princess.” bakugou whispers, not realising that the warmth of his breath is coasting over your lips wetly. before either of you know it, you’re kissing— mouths slotting against one another, tongues rolling over each other sloppily as you swap spit and pour undisclosed feelings into one another. his hands slip under your flimsy excuse for a night-gown, trailing up the good meat of your thighs, the soft curves of your waist and hips. you have him in shambles, with the way you gasp quietly at his thumbs swiping at the swell of your breasts— just brushing over your pebbling nipples. you coo and cry and he takes more from you, tugging on your lower lip with shining rows of pearly whites and licking into your mouth to swallow your whistle-tone moans.

“quiet, princess,” bakugou’s mouth is hot, blisteringly slow— his tongue leaving trails of clear, thick saliva along the planes of your skin. “gotta be quiet, baby, can’t wake anyone up, yeah?” the sharp edges of his teeth just graze your salt-licked flesh, barely nipping it. katsuki knows better, he can’t leave marks. he can’t return damaged goods to the soon-to-be king. to the touya todoroki. “so good, such a good girl.”

“o-oh! k-katsuki!” you stutter out, eyes rolling to the back of your skull and locking away the stars as the dragon prince’s hand fumbles between your hot and heavy bodies. he finds your clit, swollen and sticky— pulsating beneath rough fingertips. “p-please, i need you. please, katsuki. n-need–!” you sing your praises to the high heaves, the letters of his name rubbed into your pretty pussy as he plays with it between your slick, doughy thighs.

a single finger slips past your fluttering entrance, but he doesn’t dare let up on your pleasure nub— circling it diligently. “shut up, yeah?” the man slurs into your neck, spreading your pussy lips apart to finger you deeper, faster— losing his sanity listening to the sound of you squelch. “i hate you…r’member that. h-hate you— fuck…” 

“hate you, s’much. o-oh, right there!” your own set of fingers curl in sandy blonde locks tightly pulling him back up to your face for a kiss. but his eyes, your eyes, they both speak forbidden and unspoken love. your other hand grasps at his throbbing cock, arousal spilling over your knuckles and straight from the tip. his chest rumbles in pleasure, hips rutting into your closed fist languidly before he swoops down to lure you into the forest of temptation, the haze of another uncoordinated, messy kiss.

you mewl into one another’s open mouths, swollen and cherry lips meshing together— this? whatever you’re doing together, a pile of sweaty limbs moving in sync with one another…it’s everything either of you have ever wanted. playing pretend, hating one another face to face and loving one another in secret. katsuki curls his fingers, pressing down on your g-spot and you run your thumb through the seedy slit of his cockhead…eager to please one another. to love one another.

“put it in, katsuki.” gasping but demanding, you call to him— hungry for more, to have his everything. he wants to, god he wants to. but what if he hurts you? what if you fall apart like fragile glass? what if touya—? you grab at the blonde’s chin, guiding his gaze up to yours and his thick girth to your clenching, unfilled hole. “just for tonight, one night. show me how you truly feel about me katsuki…make love to me.”

you’re giving him a chance, giving him this one last night to deflower the prettiest, most beautiful thing katsuki bakugou has ever held in his bare, monstrous hands. wrapping your legs around the slenderness of his waist, you lock your ankles at the small of his back and squeeze to draw him closer. his milky shaft pushes through your arousal soaked folds, clear strings of it clinging to every vein that decorates the length of him.

both of you shudder once he’s bottomed out inside the warmth of your velvety, silken walls. he’s as deep as he can go, stretching you over him with slow rolls of his hips and his balls heavy with cum, seated at the curve of your ass. “f-fuck, you’re tight, princess,” katsuki whines, wrapping his arms around your head to pin you to the bed beneath him. he fills you to the brim, brings tears to your eyes as he splits you apart and pieces you back together with every single thrust. your g-spot is a victim to endless ectasy given to you by his mushroomed tip as it rams against you, desperately. 

rolling your hips up to match his pace, you swallow the saliva pooling on the palette of your tongue— skin buzzing with lust while you mark up the blonde’s back. you leave tiger-claw patterns across his tanned back, red and raw before mussing up his hair pulling him closer until either of you have room to breathe. his breath is ragged against the shell of your ear, thrusts rampant each time he plunges into your souse, salacious pussy.

katsuki drowns himself in you, and like an alcoholic reaching for another drink— he’s addicted. he groans pathetically when you bite him, kiss him and spit into his mouth until he’s babbling and brainless. you bite his shoulder to keep quiet but the bed creaks loudly enough to cover your harmonised moans and the sound of skin slapping on skin harshly. 

“i love you,” you breathe weakly, body wracked with shakes when bakugou slips out of your cunt from how fast he's pounding you into the sheets, tied to you only by strings of slick.

he says it back, instantaneously while forcing himself back into your addictive heat, desperate to get you both to your highs. “i love you.” next he finds your clit again, using three fingers to tap at it so that you tremble cutely beneath him. “hold it, princess. hold your orgasm. p-promise it’ll feel good, kay?” the dragon prince pulls back only just, dragging his seedy tip along your insides and you whine at the loss of being so full. “promise me that when he’s fucking you, when touya makes you his bride a-and weds you, his pretty virgin bride…that you’ll think of me ‘n me alone.”

“i-i promise,” you murmur, playing with the baby hairs on the base of katsuki’s neck, looking up at him lovingly as you clench down on him at his claim— dripping sweet nectar down his balls.

only then does katsuki put his entire weight on you, jutting into you all at once, nearly breaking the bed as it hits the wall behind you over and over. his cock swells inside of you, close to bursting and cumming inside of you. with one, two, three more calculated thrusts you’re thrown over the edge— the dopamine high of your orgasm crashing over your brain while you squirt clear streams over his lower tummy and cock.

he’s right behind you, following the stream of your sweet essence that nearly forces him out of you. thick, hot ropes of cum paint your insides belonging to the man that you love, filling you up to the brim. katsuki collapses on top of you with one last kiss, your foreheads pressed together and the crude mix of your arousal leaking from your tiny hole, onto your shared sheets.

“i don’t…i don’t hate you,” you stutter once both of your breathing has evened out, teary eyed because you can’t say that you love him again. it’ll make it too real, neither of you can have that if you’re promised to touya and bakugou has promised to take you back to the ruthless future king.

“niether do i,” katsuki breathes back, wiping your eyes with the pad of his thumb, using a delicate touch. 

he couldn’t help it, loving you but at least he got to…just for tonight.

[icanhearcolors]

Close Encounter pt. 2

I couldn't help myself :p

Again if ya see any spelling or grammar errors lemme know

pt 1 | pt 3

Word Count: 4k

You’re falling.

Chunks of giant tentacles from a living mind-flayer ship fall with you as you watch one of the dragons that rent the nautiloid apart soar victoriously away from the carnage it created. The air stinks of burning flesh, and there’s a stabbing pain behind your eye caused by a living being squirming around in your skull. All things considered, you’re not panicking as much as you thought you would be. You reach for the weave, but you used all the spells that you possibly could fighting the intellect devourers, imps and whatever else was on that retched ship. Falling from such a height will be unavoidably fatal, and somehow you’ve accepted that. Now you have nothing but a few more seconds left to live and your thoughts. You wonder for a moment if anyone will miss you. Could that be why you were chosen by the mind flayers? You have a job you are proud of, but no family, and if you’re being honest very few friends. Your disappearance will probably be attributed to whoever you last crossed in the courts in your role as magistrate. It will be news for a bit, but nothing shocking for the lower city of Baldur’s Gate. 

The ground is rushing up faster now. A flash of white sand and blue water. A beach. You hate the beach. How ironic that you’ll die there. You close your eyes for one final time and brace yourself as best you can for what death by meteor impersonation will feel like-

except…

It doesn’t happen.

You open your eyes.

You are suspended upside down, face a couple inches from the ground that would have killed you. You stare at a seashell for a moment in numb shock, before every emotion you’ve ever felt bombards you. Terror, rage, elation, relief, exhaustion, grief, they wage a war in your head until you are completely overwhelmed, and everything goes black.

—-

For the second time in a day you awake in an unfamiliar place, only this time it’s on fire.

Your eyes snap open, seeing nothing at first except for the beautifully blue sky above you. It’s almost peaceful, but you can’t shake the nagging feeling that something is wrong. Then it hits you.

Why is it so quiet? 

You hear nothing. There is no wind rushing, birds cawing, waves crashing, you hear nothing but your own blood rushing in your ears. You sit up, your muscles aching, and immediately grimace in pain as something inside your skull moves. Your ears begin ringing with a high pitched screech that pressing your palms into your ears does nothing to stop- and then nothing. 

As quickly as it came it fades again, and when you remove your hands from your ears- sound comes flooding back, along with the rest of your senses. Your skin is rubbed raw from the sand, you taste smoke and blood in your mouth, and you fight the urge to vomit when you smell the rotting carcass that is the nautiloid. Intellect devourers scuttle across the fleshy ground with wet slaps in one direction, the ocean is all that waits for you in the other. You reach for the weave and find that you were at least asleep long enough to recover your spells. You stand carefully on shaky legs, stumbling to avoid glowing red jagged metal wreckage and pools of black congealed blood. Bodies of the less fortunate passengers litter the sand. You turn their pockets and grab a weapon or two as you pass by. They won’t mind. You waste no time, marching toward the burning chunk of the nautiloid that seems to be the only way forward. Three intellect devourers block your way, but they’re hurt, and seeing the beaten path on the other side of them gives you enough reckless inspiration to take them on. Crouching behind a rock, you summon the weave and give it form with a simple incantation.

“Ignis!”

The first devourer drops dead immediately. You stare incredulously at the hand that guided the flame as if it could explain to you where all that firepower was when you needed it on the ship. The other two devourers sprint toward you on broken twisted legs, and you firebolt them too. They both get a hit in on you before they die, shredding your skin with their claws, but it’s nothing a healing potion or two won’t mostly fix. You uncork a small red bottle and down its contents, watching in wonder as in this small contained way, time moves backwards. The blood pooling at your feet and staining your clothes is pulled back into your body, and your wounds seal closed almost instantaneously. The shredded fabric of your clothes is the only indication that you were ever hurt at all. Staring down at the creepy burning brain creatures, you begin to wonder if this is your life now. Your previous reluctant companion Lae’zel told you on the ship that the tadpole you now unwillingly carry will turn you into a mind flayer within a matter of days, so you do not allow yourself more than a moment of reflection before you step over the bodies and begin walking the path behind them. A path means people walk this ground often, and if you follow it far enough, surely you’ll find some sort of civilization. 

You don’t make it far before you hear shouting.

You take off running on instinct. There’s an actual living person somewhere up ahead of you, potentially another survivor, and by the sounds of it they need help.

You turn a corner and skid to a stop in the sand, panting, staring at the back of an oddly familiar looking stranger. He turns to you, and your heart stops in your chest as you recognize the vampire you met in a tavern some odd years ago. He looks different in the sunlight, even paler, his red eyes brighter, anyone would be able to see vampire written all over him if it weren’t for the fact that he was standing before you in broad daylight. Were you wrong about him being a vampire? You can’t imagine how else he’d have red eyes and fangs but there has never been a vampire that could walk unharmed in the sun. He doesn’t even blink at your approach. Expression urgent, he ushers you over to the group of bushes he’s standing in front of, and you take a few steps forward in mute astonishment.

“Hurry! I’ve got one of those brain things cornered. You can kill it can’t you? Like you did the others?” 

He must have seen you fight off the devourers at the beach. You take a second to recall his name. Astarion. He doesn’t seem to recognize you at all. You can’t find any of the shock and recognition you’re feeling in his eyes. You can’t read his expression at all actually. 

You begin to nod as you process his words. The devourer is a problem you can solve, the vampire-but-maybe-not-a-vampire is a mystery you don’t think you’re capable of handling just yet.

You tell him to step back and observe the rustling in the bushes, preparing to firebolt the illithid creature to the hells where it belongs. You take a step forward, and out of the rustling bush explodes a boar, not a brain. 

You huff a quick relieved laugh and turn to face Astarion when you feel two things in quick succession, the cold sharp edge of a dagger against your throat, and a hand sliding up the back of your head, gripping your hair in a fist and yanking you to the ground.

“I thought I told you to run the next time you saw one of my kind, not save them from a mind flayer’s dog” Astarion admonishes, using his grip on your hair to force your head back even further. It seems he does remember you after all.

The air is knocked out of your lungs, so casting a spell isn’t an option. You do the only thing you can think to do. You reach up to grab his wrist and fight to push the dagger away from your throat. Even using both arms, you aren’t strong enough.

“Shhhhh shh shh, not a sound. I’ve been on the receiving end of the daylight spell too often to trust you spell casters. You’ll hold your tongue if you want to keep that darling neck of yours.”

You keep both hands around his wrist, hoping if he does try to kill you, you’ll be strong enough to maybe disarm him at least. You say nothing.

His answering smile scares you more than the knife at your throat.

“There’s a good girl. It seems you can follow instructions after all. There’s hope for you yet. Now, I saw you on the ship didn’t I? Nod.” 

You try your best to nod considering the circumstances.

“I want to know how you survived the crash. If you say anything that sounds like it even might be the start of a spell it’ll be the last thing you ever say. Speak.”

“I-I don’t know. I was falling, and then I wasn’t. Next thing I knew I was waking up on the beach. How did you survive?”

“I’m not easy to kill,” his words are both an answer and a warning.

“Now you’re going to explain to me exactly what you and those tentacled freaks did to me.” 

Your mouth drops open in shocked indignation.

“What I did to you?! We were both abducted! Have you lost your mind?”

Faintly you hear a high pitched ringing in your ears but you ignore it. You probably have hearing damage from the ship explosion.

“Don’t lie to me! The first person I refuse my master in over a century finds her way to me again just seven years later on a mind flayer ship of all things and you want me to believe it’s a funny coincidence?”

“Oh well yeah when you put it that way my kidnapping you and the other fifty people on the ship with my mind flayer best friends makes so much sense!” You practically shout.

Astarion presses the dagger a little further into your skin, just short of drawing blood, and you wince.

“Ohhhh you little-” Whatever he was about to say is cut off by both his cry of pain and yours as the ringing in your ears drowns out all other sound. Something twitches in your head and for a few moments you are looking through eyes that aren’t your own, prowling the dark streets of Baldur’s gate. You feel nothing but a soul deep hunger, starvation feels more accurate a term. 

In a flash the memory changes, and you’re in a cellar of some kind. The first thing you notice is that the floor under your bare feet feels wet. The second thing you notice is the immobilizing pain radiating from your shoulders to your lower back. Your arms are shackled to the ceiling. You are standing in a puddle of your own blood.

“Please” You groan in a voice that isn’t yours.

“Petras says you let a mortal escape.”

You don’t have a response to that. Unbearable pain lances through your side. You jerk, and a skeletal hand grabs your shoulder. 

“Hold still boy. I’m trying to avoid the scars.”

Your soul is slammed suddenly back into your own body, vision Astarion’s scream blending with your own as you wrench yourself away from the hands holding you. Amidst your panicked scrambling the dagger cuts a searing line where your neck meets your shoulder. It would have sliced your throat if Astarion hadn’t pulled it away in time. You pull your cloak over the injury and lean against a nearby tree, sliding down the rough bark until you’re sitting with your knees pulled to your chest. Your back throbs with echoes of the pain you experienced in Astarion’s memory. He looks just as shaken as you do, though perhaps less terrified.

“What… was that?” You hiss through your teeth.

Astarion rolls to his feet and sheaths his dagger, apparently deciding you’re not as much of a threat as he thought you were.

“What did you see?” He asks warily, noting your less than jubilant reaction.

“You-” You hesitate, not wanting to trigger a potentially dangerous response by reminding him of a traumatic experience.

“Ohhh I’ve never seen you tongue tied before. Was it scandalous?” He asks teasingly in a low voice, as if someone on the empty path next to the burning ship wreck would be listening in to this ridiculous conversation. It irks you enough that you snap the real answer at him.

“You were being tortured.”

Astarion looks at you expectantly, as if waiting for you to continue.

“And?”

“What do you mean and?”

“That doesn’t exactly narrow it down.”

“It doesn’t?!”

His laugh is dark and devoid of any real humor.

“Not in the slightest.”

An uneasy feeling settles in your stomach as you recall Astarion’s rambling from the night you met. He said a man named Petras would tell someone if Astarion didn’t return with you, and implied he’d suffer for it.

“Someone was speaking. They said you ‘let the mortal go.’”  

“Ah. That was your doing.”

Shock and confusion flood your system for a moment before they’re drowned out by a much stronger emotion.

Anger.

“Oh I would love to hear how you think I am to blame for whatever the HELLS I just witnessed.”

Astarion crosses his arms and levels you with a withering glare

“What you just witnessed was my punishment for not bringing you back to Cazador.”

The name is familiar to you. You remember Astarion saying it that night, and you vaguely recall that he’s someone important to Baldur’s Gate.

“Cazador Szarr? The creepy noble who lives in the giant gothic castle in the lower city? He wants me dead?”

Astarion sighs.

“Not you specifically, no. Unfortunately for us Baldurians he’s rather indiscriminate with his murder.”

You shake your head, more confused than you were when you woke up in a mind flayer pod.

“You lost me.”

“He’s a vampire lord.”

Your jaw drops as you realize what exactly he’s saying.

“YOU WERE GOING TO FEED ME TO A VAMPIRE LORD?” You shout.

His eyes widen at your sudden outburst and he raises his hands, speaking slowly as if he were trying to placate a rabid animal.

“Okay so you’re angry. Perhaps understandably, but I didn’t have a choice. Do you know anything about vampires?”

“They drink blood, avoid the sun, live in covens, sleep in coffins?” You offer.

Astarion nods,

“All true, but more goes on in those covens than you know. Turning into a true vampire corrupts you completely. Most people think the biggest threat to them is a cleric with a stake. That's not true. The biggest threat to a vampire is another vampire. When a vampire drinks the blood of a mortal they turn that mortal into their vampiric spawn. We have the red eyes, the fangs, the bloodlust, the enhanced senses, but that’s it. We would have to drink the blood of our maker to become a true vampire, but what maker would allow such a thing given the choice between having a slave or a potential threat? Cazador turned me when he found me dying in an alley in the lower city. He gave me a list of rules,” Astarion begins speaking in a nasal, probably quite offensive caricature of who you assume to be Cazador.

“‘First, thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures. Second, thou shalt obey me in all things. Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed. Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine.’"

“What are non-thinking creatures?”

“Animals mostly. Usually he had us drink the blood of dead putrid rats his servants would find around the castle.”

You shiver as a wave of nausea hits you at the mental image. He continues,

“What I’m trying to say is when I found you in that tavern my entire reason for existing was to lure pretty things back to my master. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You did have a choice though,” You remind him. “You let me go.”

“I may have rebelled a little, but I couldn’t disobey the order I was given. I found another victim, and they suffered the same fate you would have. I paid in blood for sparing you.” He says bitterly. 

“What do you want me to do? Apologize for the fact that you didn’t want to kill me?” You ask exasperatedly.

Astarion tilts his head inquisitively, considering your words.

“Yes, actually.”

“How is that my fault?”

“It’s your fault because you, the only good person in the entirety of the under city, ended up in my usual tavern. A tavern I never could return to by the way- lest you be there. Usually I can’t stand good people but you just had to be a magistrate for the same judges that led me to drink on more than one occasion when I was mortal and when I kissed you I-” He pauses mid-rant when he sees your owlish expression. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks, his tone skeptical, as if he believes you're plotting something.

He's right in a way, you're considering your options. You’re unsure what to do with this stranger. He’s dangerous for certain. You’re not entirely sure what the outcome would be if you tried to take him on, especially now that you’re running low on spells and health potions. Even if you managed to limp out of that fight alive, the next devourer or goblin to happen upon you would easily kill you. 

The thought suddenly occurs to you that maybe you two could travel together. You obviously don’t trust each other, but a dangerous ally seems like the best type to have these days, and you share a common enemy.

In the silence that follows his rambling, a question you’ve been dying to ask slips out. 

“Wait, can you walk in the sun because you’re only a spawn?”

Astarion places a hand over his chest in feigned offense.

“Only a spawn? That hurts my feelings.”

You return his snarkiness by pretending to be deeply confused.

“Wait…you have those?” 

“Not often, no.” He sighs. He reaches out past the shade of the tree he’s standing under and allows the sun to warm the palm of his hand. “But that, I feel. It kind of tickles,” He smiles with real astonished happiness. You never thought you took the sunlight for granted before but you’re reminded in this moment that you had more to lose than you thought. 

“Spawn burn to ash in the sun just the same as vampires, I haven’t seen daylight in centuries.”

“So what’s changed?”

“Probably the same thing that allowed you to see my memories and I yours. The thing we had rather rudely forced into our skulls.”

You nod, and tell him about your githyanki ally who warned you what the tadpoles would do to you both if you didn’t find help soon.

“So it’ll turn me into a monster. You’d think by now that fate would be tired of playing that joke on me.” 

It’s that sentence that cements your decision to take him with you. You did not meet in the best of circumstances, and yet you feel a very unsettling but genuine connection to this vampire. For better or for worse, he’s all you have right now.

“Astarion?”

His head snaps up, pulled from his thoughts. 

“Yes?”

“I’m going to find a healer that can remove this worm from my head. I might take a few of the other survivors with me if I can find any. You should come.”

Astarion looks you up and down, considering his options.

“I was ready to go this alone, but you seem to be a useful person to know. I’ve tried and failed to kill you twice and truth be told I’m quite good at killing people.”

As weird of a response it is to the horrific thing he just said, you feel hope for the first time in a very long time. With Astarion by your side you won’t have to navigate the wilds alone. 

“Don’t make me beg.” You joke, a small smile forming as you realize he’s going to agree.

“Don’t tempt me.” He holds out his hand palm up.

“I’m not getting that apology am I?” He asks.

Wondering where this is going, you reach for his hand.

“Not any time in this millenia.”

“Unlike you I can wait until the next one.”

He grips your hand in his and pulls you to your feet.

“Assuming I don't kill you first.”

“Ha! I like you.”

“Did you figure that out the first or the second time you tried to kill me?”

“Definitely the second. The first time is always so dramatic and emotional, the second go around is where the real fun begins.”

“You’re not talking about attempted murder anymore are you?”

“What else would I be talking about?” He winks.

“Fuck you Astarion”

“Ask me nicely and I might consider it.”

Such forwardness shocks you despite how much of a flirt you already knew he was. You stutter for a moment, unable to come up with a response, and decide to half heartedly swat at his shoulder instead. He catches your wrist before you land the blow, and when your eyes meet his he’s grinning in a way that flashes those fangs of his. “You’re a violent little thing aren’t you? I think I will travel with you. I could use the protection.” 

You know he's being sarcastic, but your response is real.

“You watch my back, and I’ll watch yours.”

Astarion's amused expression sobers.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he agrees plainly, without a trace of sarcasm. You almost raise your hand to his forehead to check his temperature when you realize that joke wouldn’t work on a vampire. With your life no longer in danger, the adrenaline high from the last couple minutes fades rapidly, and you begin to feel the extent of your injuries. You reach up with your free hand and rub the back of your head, wincing at the sting from where Astarion yanked you by your hair. Understanding dawns on his expression and he has the decency to at least look apologetic.

“You know, under the right circumstances I’m usually much better at that sort of thing.” 

Aaaaand he’s back. You open your mouth to respond when he stills suddenly, inhaling deeply through his nose. His eyes snap to your shoulder,

“Why are you bleeding?”

You remember the cut from the dagger and try to take a clumsy step back, but it isn’t quite the retreat you hoped it would be. Your back hits the tree you were sitting against. His grip on your wrist tightens, and he takes a step forward as you take one back, eating up the already dismal distance between you two in one stride.

“Someone held a dagger to my throat,” you attempt to deflect some of the tension.

Astarion’s pupils dilate, his movements are predatory, and you fear you’re about to be the prey he breaks his maker’s first rule with.

“Who?” His voice is low and melodic, almost hypnotizing. “I’ll kill them.”

You laugh nervously,

“Apparently he’s hard to kill.”

His answering smile is sharp as his dagger.

You begin to seriously question your choice in allies. This is the third time you’ve feared for your life because of this man, and you doubt it’ll be the last.

He drops your wrist and steps back, swallowing thickly. He tosses you a corked red bottle, a healing potion.

“I won’t bite, not unless you ask me to of course.” 

He begins striding up the path, correctly assuming you’ll follow.

“But drink that before you drive me absolutely insane.”

You down the contents of the tiny bottle and toss it into the sea, speeding to catch up with your new friend, the sun walking vampire. 

Life couldn’t possibly get any crazier.

Right?

----------------------------------------------------

hiiiiii! I'm not sure how tagging works but I'm gonna try to tag the people that showed interest in me writing a sequel because that's so cool and I love you guys

@aoirohi

@tamwritesstuff

@smaranshakthi

@perseny

@stronglycoffeescented-blog

@hadesbabygurl

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

A Long Rest Is Overdue

pairing : ignis scientia x (fem) reader

summary : in a moment of over-tired weakness you let your insecurity affect your performance on the battlefield. ignis takes it upon himself to change how you're thinking.

warnings : weapons used, talk of feeling useless but nothing else. mostly fluffy.

With every swing of your blade you feel your arms growing weaker and weaker. Your body is tired due to Noctis refusing to admit he was also tired and keeping the group on the road all day. The sun is setting above you but the heat from midday continues on. Despite the sunset Noctis still refuses to rest. Another swing, and a cramp in your wrist. You know that if you let your sword fall you will be viewed as a failure. You’d be failing as a guard for Noctis, the training you went through with Gladiolus for moments exactly like this one would all be for nothing. Prompto, even as your best friend, would look at you differently. And most of all you’d be disappointing Ignis. 

But your legs are giving out, and your sword is becoming much too heavy to carry in your hands. You try to focus on your breathing, channeling all your strength into your arms to keep your sword up. Another swing. Another. A shot from Prompto's gun rings out and kills the enemy in front of you. 

“You okay?” His voice is laced with worry, even as he continues to fire his gun around. More eyes are on you now. This is exactly what you didn’t want. They couldn’t see you like this. They needed to focus. You shoot Prompto a curt nod and move on with your blade hanging dangerously close to the ground. Another enemy, a heavy swing, and a swift jab to finish it off. Your blade sticks in its chest and you're unable to pull it out. 

The battle is over and every enemy surrounding you is now lying around you on the ground, killed by other members of the group. Still embarrassment pulses through your body and you continue to pull weakly at the handle of your sword. 

“Goddamnit!” You send an aggressive kick into the animal laying in front of you, pulling your sword out finally. It doesn’t get very far and you hear the metal clang as it hits the ground. 

“That’s quite enough. The battle is over.” Ignis’ heavy hand lands on your shoulder but you refuse to look up from the place your sword rests. Your breath is heavy as you feel Ignis bend his shoulders looking to meet your eyes. You know the view he’s getting, sweaty face, red from over exertion and growing ever redder from embarrassment. Your muscles are sore enough to make your whole body shake, and your skin is covered in a layer of dirt wetted by the sweat running along your body. 

His face finally meets your eyes, brimmed with tears and still refusing to look into his. You know he sees, and it only makes you more embarrassed. You blink and a single tear makes a slow journey down your cheek, dripping off your jaw. To your surprise, though, Ignis doesn’t say anything about it. 

“Alright Noct, I propose we set up camp for the night. I believe we’ve had enough for today. I’ll prepare something for us to eat.” Noctis is silent and for a moment you honestly think he’s going to refuse, but your shoulders fall in relief when he agrees to Ignis’ idea. You fling your sword onto your back, wiping your face of any wetness before turning back to the group with a tired smile on your face. 

With Noctis and Gladiolus in the front, Ignis following close behind and Prompto holding himself back to wait for you. “Hey..um.. Are you okay?” 

“Hm?” You look at him, eyes red, but you don’t make eye contact for very long to keep him from suspecting anything. 

“It’s just you seemed unfocused on the field. And, right now, you look like you're about to cry.” You notice that Ignis slows in front of you, walking just close enough to hear you speak. 

You look at Prompto again, putting a smile on your face as best you can, “No need to worry bud. I’ve never been better! Let’s just get to the regalia.” Prompto looks like he wants to say something else but he stays quiet. 

When you finally get to the Regalia you hop in the backseat so you don’t have to speak to Ignis. You feel worthless and the possibility of him looking at you with pity or shame in his eyes has your stomach rolling just thinking about it. You don’t speak the whole car ride, even though Prompto's fingers play with the bracelet on your wrist and you can feel a pair of eyes burning into you from the rearview mirror. 

You think about what had started these thoughts that were hindering your abilities. Two months ago, you remember, you had made it clear to Ignis that you had gained strong feelings for him and to your surprise those feelings were returned. However ever since that moment you had been pushing yourself much farther than usual to keep him impressed. The last thing you would ever want to do is make him disappointed. But your performance had been worsening as you continued to overwork yourself. Instead of making yourself stronger you were just making yourself a bigger liability. 

His eyes still bore into you from the mirror, you can feel them. When you move your eyes to meet his, he keeps eye contact for a moment before returning his eyes to the road. You let out a heavy sigh before looking back at the land passing by the car, a wet line traveling down your cheek once more, quickly wiped away by your hands. Though, your sniffle is hard to cover up and you feel that same set of eyes on you once more. 

Ignis pulls over maybe a half hour later, your eyes are teetering on the edge of closing but when the car comes to a full stop you climb out with an uncharacteristic rush of energy. They set up camp, sharing jokes with each other, everyone but Ignis. He’s quiet as he sets up a place to cook dinner. He places a stool on the side, an unusual sight for someone who usually stands but it makes sense when his eyes meet yours and he points to the stool sternly. 

You feel weirdly as if you were in trouble so after your sword is placed safely by your tent, you walk over to the stool sluggishly and sit in front of him. The sternness he wore before is gone as he speaks to you now. “What would you like to eat my dear?” 

The pet name rolls off his tongue so fluidly it would make you weak in the knees if you weren’t already seated. 

“Will you make my favorite?” Ignis nods, a warm smile on his face before he begins cooking. All you can do is stare at him, he looks so at peace when he’s cooking and it almost puts you at peace too. Almost. But suddenly your mind is racing to your thoughts from before and you are thinking about how disappointed he must be in you. You turn to look at the fire where Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio are all sitting talking with each other and you think about going to sit with them instead but when a bowl is placed in your lap, the idea leaves your head.

“Thank you, Iggy.” You lock eyes and you swear you see pink glide across his cheeks before he turns to make dinner for himself and the boys. You didn’t know why but he always ensures that you eat whatever you want him to make, before the boys have eaten at all. 

After you finish eating you move to clean your bowl off, and you feel a presence behind you. His low and tired voice sends a shiver through your bones.

“I need you to sit up on the table once you're finished.” It’s Ignis. His voice makes your stomach stir again but you do as he says. The other three boys are still at the fire, far enough away that they wouldn’t hear the words leaving his mouth. Their laughs echo through your campsite. Your eyes stay glued to your boots, legs hanging off the edge and swinging around. You were waiting to be berated, or for him to say he was disappointed in your performance, or chastise you for showing weakness on the battlefield.  

But none of that ever comes. Instead his hand moves to cup your cheek, lifting your face up to look at him. In his other hand he holds a washcloth, which he dips into a bucket of water he had already filled. “You have a cut on your cheek, may I?” With warm cheeks, you nod at him, giving him your permission. 

Slowly he lifts the rag up to your face, gently wiping away a layer of grime and dried blood from the side of your face. Even though you didn’t feel it before, the water dripping down your skin and the roughness of the rag makes the cut sting and your skin tingle. As he wipes away at your skin, and the stinging becomes more noticeable you try to focus on anything else. 

His hand is still on your cheek but the warmth is not enough to distract you from the tingle on your cheekbone. Your eyes scan around for something more, landing on his face. His hair is down, a rare occurrence. It’s his lazy hair, his after the shower hair, his ‘I ran out of gel’ hair. Your fingers twitch, a reflex from wanting to run your fingers through it, but they don't move. You don’t feel the stinging anymore. 

He tosses the rag back into the bucket of water, but his eyes don’t leave yours. It almost feels like he’s caging you on the table with the way his hands are resting by both of your thighs. 

You take the opportunity to touch his hair like you had wanted to before. His hair hangs in front of his eyes and you lift your hand to move it out of his face, running your fingers through his hair towards the nape of his neck. But his eyes are still on yours and the thoughts come back all at once, hands falling to your lap and eyes following quickly after. 

“So are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Or do I have to figure that one out on my own?” Your eyes are glued to your hands still, and a sigh leaves his mouth moving the hairs in front of your face. Your hands are shaking in your lap when one of his own hands finds your face again. But you still don’t answer him. 

“My darling..” He moves your face to meet his once more , “I know something is bothering you. Please, will you tell me so I can help you?” Even with his glasses on, the softness in his eyes shines through. 

“I feel useless Iggy..” A breath you didn’t realize you were holding flies from your lips, and your eyes cloud with tears. “I have been trying..so hard..to keep you impressed with what I can do. And Noct has been staying on the road longer than at our campsites, so I’ve been using all the little energy I have to be a better fighter and to make sure you're not disappointed in me.” You continue to blubber out, “And I’m so sorry Ignis. I know I screwed up today. Please don’t be mad, I didn’t mean to cry. I’m sorry for crying.”

You struggle to form coherent sentences in between trying to catch your breath. You become flush from embarrassment, crying like a little kid while his eyes never leave your face. Your eyes red from wiping at tears before they fall and your nose pink from sniffling. Even your lips become puffy, and you wear a pout as you try to stifle sobs from falling out. His thumb rubs your cheek, wrapping his other arm around you to the small of your back to pull you into a tight embrace.

The smell of his cologne fills your nose, and as you stay in his arms clinging to his torso, your sobs begin to lessen. Slowly, after making you take some deep breaths, he pulls away to look you in your eyes again. 

“First of all. You could never disappoint me, get that idea out of that pretty head of yours, and in no way did you ‘screw up’ today. Shedding tears does not make you weak, even if you do it while holding a sword. And I could never be mad at you for crying,” He cups your cheeks in his hands, both this time, wiping away stray tears with his thumbs, “You are not useless, my dear, you are one of the strongest people I know. You pushed through exhaustion to keep Noct safe and I am so proud.”

Your lips curve at the corners, just barely, but just as quickly leave when Ignis speaks again. 

“However. You will not be pushing through said exhaustion anymore and I will be ensuring that we stop much more often to prevent this. No matter what Noctis says about it.” He places a soft kiss to your cheek, and the curvature returns to your lips. 

“One more, for me?” You puff your lips out towards him in a half-teasing manner but when his hands that cup your cheeks pull you in with a smile dancing on his own lips, your face breaks out in flames of pink. 

His lips meet yours softly, yours wet and plump from crying and his slightly cracked from being out in the sunny desert for so long. Ignis is gentle, like he’s scared to be too rough due to your fragile state, but he holds his lips against your long enough to make you flustered. He pulls away, removing one hand from your cheek but keeping the other on your face to feel the warmth of your blush under his palm. 

“Now let us join the others by the fire, yeah?”

[thechaoticdruid]

Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts (1)

Pairing: Astarion x F!Tav

Plot: Tav and Astarion have been settling in to life in the Underdark, trying their damnedest to find a good lead on the Ring of the Sun Walker when suddenly a distress message from an old friend lands them in a place they certainly did not see coming. An extravagant soiree hosted by a very eccentric stranger!

Content/Warnings: First chapter focuses on Tav and Astarion's life so far. Chubby Tav, Tav uses She/her pronouns, Violence and slight gore, brief nudity, suggestive content, mentions of Astarion's trauma, descriptions of a panic attack, Tav based on my own (human druid) Tav. Possible smut in future chapters. Grammar/spelling mistakes are possible. Ooc moments are possible, slight angst, comfort, fluff.

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The dark cold caverns of the Underdark were definitely not anyone's first vacation destination. They were perilous, full of several bloodthirsty beasts just waiting to tear even the most skilled of adventurers apart.  

“HEY ASSHAT! OVER HERE DUMBASS! LOOK AT MEEEE!” A young human woman shouted, waving her arms around like a complete fool.

She stuck her tongue and blew a raspberry up at a massive figure. A towering green humanoid with multiple limbs and multiple heads, only wearing a loin cloth and what appeared to be a belt made of human skulls. 

The human was short, chubby, dressed in a red cloak embroidered with little wolves on it and druidic armor tucked underneath.  She continued to mock the beast pointing two middle fingers at it. The beast growled and began to charge towards the much smaller human female.

“That's it, dumb fuck! Come to Tav!” The druid smirked, getting into a fighting stance and she looked up above.  A flaming arrow came down fast, hitting the beast in one of its foreheads.

It let out a loud low growl of pain, almost immediately shouting something in its strange native tongue. Tav couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was saying, but she was pretty sure it was far from intelligent.  Tav glanced back towards the origin of the arrow with a smile seeing her ivory haired elven lover perched up upon a high cliff. 

“Excellent aim as always, my Star!” Tav cheered. 

“Hells Teeth Tav! Get out of the way!” Her lover exclaimed. The monster lunged over for Tav, seeming to recover from its wound rather quickly before going in to grab the human female in one of its huge hands, attempting to crush her. 

Tav simply smirked before suddenly changing her shape, taking the form of a large owlbear and sinking her claws into the beast's arm before leaping away, using her wings to glide a good distance between her and the monstrosity.

The elf huffed as he reached back, grabbing for another fire arrow only to realize he had used the last one. Looks like he'd have to improvise.

“Ignis.” He recited the incantation before shooting a firebolt right at the creature’s main face, setting it ablaze and allowing Tav to get in some slashes across its lower body. The beast flailed and screamed, kicking Tav in the face and knocking her down into the ground with powerful force before charging towards the elf's advantage point.

“Shit.” The silver haired male cursed before beginning to make a run for it, only to have the ground crumble beneath him.

“Astarion!” Tav screamed, now returned to her human form, pure horror in her eyes as she saw the giant beast slam its body into the ledge her beloved had been standing on. He let out a shout as he began to fall, so close to hitting the ground before a black blur flew over and took hold of the back of his doublet.  Tav growled in anger before conjuring a thorn covered vine using her magic before lassoing it around the monster’s throat. 

Astarion blinked noticing he hadn't hit the ground, the sound of flapping wings and huffing could be heard above him.

“Ugh ... .Star, you're so heavy!” A little voice said before suddenly Astarion was gently placed on his feet. He looked back to see a black fluffy tressym huffing before slowly landing on the ground, very winded from having to hold up the elf with her tiny body.   

“Darling, where in the hells have you been?” Astarion stared down at the little black tressym as she caught her breath. 

“I tried to go catch that half-elf trader before he got too far! I think he conned us on that sun walker map!” The tressym exclaimed.

“You think?” Astarion rolled his eyes before gesturing to gigantic green humanoid.

“FUCK MEEEEEE!!!!!” Tav screamed as she was yanked up from the ground by the enormous creature as it yanked its neck hard, pulling both Tav and her vine lasso and slinging them around. 

“Tav!” Astarion quickly dashed over as Tav went flying through the air. He swiftly leaped up and caught her before tumbling down with her on top of him. “My darling, are you alright?” He asked, voice full of concern. Tav immediately got up off the elven male seemingly ignoring him. 

“I'm gonna kick some green prick’s ass!” She shouted before running back towards the beast.

Astarion huffed in annoyance, his love could be so difficult at times. It excited him back when they had first met. Her eagerness to rush into danger and slaughter her foes without a second thought truly got him going, but now that he had come to care for her so deeply things were different. He was terrified of anything happening to her. Astarion let out a sigh before drawing his bow and notching an arrow, aiming at the head he had previously been able to set ablaze.  His arrow was able to tear right through the beast, leaving blood to pour from its skull. Its other heads roared in pain as the creature flailed its arms around frantically.

Tav then suddenly remembered something she had hidden in her pack and given the creature’s distraction, now was the perfect opportunity to use it. She quickly pulled out a scroll of fireball before reciting the incantation and firing right at the monster, setting its entire body aflame. The beast twitched and spasmed, crying out in pure agony before eventually falling flat on its back, body burnt to a crisp as the life depleted from its eyes. Tav took a deep breath before running up and kicking what was left of the charred corpse.

“Take that you big green bitch!” She huffed. Astarion wiped some sweat from his brow before letting out a sigh of relief as he watched his lover take out her frustration on the carcass. 

“Goods gods. A dire-troll…” The winged cat exclaimed as she scurried over towards the couple. 

“Oh…So that's what this thing was? I had no idea those were in the Underdark.” Tav blinked before looking over at their feline companion. “Did you have luck spying on that merchant, Maddie?” 

“I believe he was making his way back to the Myconid colony. Considering we were almost killed following this map he gave us I think it's safe to assume we got scammed.” Maddie stated.

“You're right. Nothing out here but a dead end and a dead troll.” Tav sighed, stretching her arms behind her head. 

“I told you I thought he was a rogue. Why didn't you tell me you suspected he was scamming us?” Astarion asked.

“I didn't want to crush your hopes of finding the ring of the sunwalker.” Tav sighed.

“Darling, we were both almost literally crushed today.” Astarion crossed his arms. “Perhaps we should forget about feelings if there's a chance we're walking into certain death, hm?” 

“Sorry….” Tav looked down, hanging her head in shame before feeling Astarion's cool hands cup her face and make her look at him. 

“I'm not angry at you, I just don't want you getting hurt on my behalf, love.” He said before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We will find this magic sun ring in time, but you must be by my side when we do.”  He looked down at her fondly, eyes round and full of love. Tav couldn't help but give in to the smile that was creeping its way across her face as she glanced back up at her love. Maddie then suddenly cleared her throat as she looked up at her humanoid companions.

“I do hate to interrupt this beautiful moment my friends, but there is the matter of the man who conned us out of 1000 gold pieces for that map.” The tressym exclaimed, tapping a paw against the ground.

“Right. That bastard owes us money.” Tav said as she pulled away from her partner. “Hmm…You know Astarion, we could always invite him out for bite ...if you have the appetite, my Star.” 

“Oh my love, you know I simply adore it when you treat me to dinner.” Astarion flicked his tongue over his fangs, a sadistic grin making its way onto his face. “I'm salivating just thinking about it.~” 

“I always make sure to take good care of my man.” Tav boasted with a smug grin, giving her vampiric love a wink. “Come on Maddie, let's go pay this con man a visit.

“Yes, of course Tav.” Maddie said before hopping up onto Tav's shoulder and hitching a ride on her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once they tracked down the merchant who scammed them, took back their gold and allowed Astarion to have a nice little treat, the trio returned to their current abode to rest up after a tiring day of adventuring in the Underdark.  Tav and Astarion had taken up residence in the old abandoned Arcane Tower after getting assistance repairing it from the Kuo-Toa. Conveniently the fish folk had still believed Tav to be some god of murder and were easily convinced to build her a palace for her and her murderous bride (which was what they referred to Astarion as).

It was less building a palace and more so just doing renovations on the tower to make it more homey as Astarion put it. Once they returned home, Tav went down to the basement with Maddie trailing after her. Since her and her former companions had cured themselves of their tadpoles and defeated a threat to all of Faerûn she'd began to take up some wizard skills, studying the weave and expanding her abilities.

She'd honestly always wanted to be a wizard, but when you grow up in a family full of druids, in a village full of druids you don't exactly have that many options. Tav opened up one of her journals, sketching a little doodle of the dire-troll she fought today before looking through one of the magical tomes Gale had sent to her from Waterdeep. She studied the pages, taking in the different techniques and incantations for fire spells. These definitely would have been hells of a lot more help earlier today. Maddie leapt up on the desk Tav sat at in the basement, stretching out her wings before letting out a yawn and taking a seat next to Tav. 

“Star was asking for you Tav.” The little feline spoke up in her sweet high sounding voice. “He said he patched up the tear in your cloak.” 

“Tell him I said thanks, but I'm busy right now.” Tav muttered, trying to concentrate on reading the current page she was on. 

“He also said something about gagging you and tying you up if you keep ruining the clothes he makes you?” The tressym tilted her head innocently, a bit confused by Astarion's threat.

“Oh well, that's nice.” Tav said, barely paying any attention.  She was too invested in the tome to even hear the noise of the elevator coming down, followed light footsteps moving across the stairs.

“Darling, just what exactly are you doing down here?” Astarion suddenly took a step behind her, causing Tav to jump.

“AH! Hells Astarion!” She said, turning back to see him, crossing his arms. 

“I thought I told that cat to fetch you…” Astarion huffed and glanced over at Maddie with a raised brow.

“I'm a tressym!” Maddie pouted, ears shooting straight back. Astarion ignored her offended demeanor and focused solely on Tav.

“I'm trying to study…You know wizard stuff…” Tav sighed before looking up at her needy vampire boyfriend.  

“And you can't just read this upstairs? With me?” Astarion stepped over to Tav before suddenly planting himself on her lap and snaking his arms around her shoulders. If it wasn't for Tav’s well filled out form he probably would have squished her. The position honestly looked a little funny given he was taller than her.  

“Not when you do stuff like this.” Tav pouted, a blush spreading across her face as he sat on her lap, muscular ass pressed down on her thigh. “I know you don't have much to do when we're here but I need to study. This could be so useful for when we're out there searching for that ring!” Tav gave him a small smile. 

“You already know enough magic as it is, you're a druid for gods sake. I don't see the point in forcing yourself to do this unnecessary work.” Astarion huffed. 

“Please Star this is important to me. Just give me a little longer. Then we can do whatever you want.” Tav hummed, looking back at him with puppy dog eyes. 

“Oh alright. You have twenty minutes. Then you and I are getting a bath.” He smirked before planting a kiss on her cheek and getting up. Tav continued on with her studies before eventually getting up and joining her lover in a hot bath he'd prepared for the two of them. Tav stripped down her armor and undergarments before exposing her thick curvaceous form and getting into the tub beside him. All the stretch marks, creases, lumps and imperfections were completely on show for the vampire to see.

It had honestly taken a long time before she had become confident enough to expose herself in front of him so casually, but she'd come so far.  Not too long ago she'd thought of herself unworthy of having a lover.  Funny how things could change so drastically.  Astarion at times practically worshipped this body she loathed so greatly.

Tav still didn't understand it.

“You know you could probably try finding a hobby, Star. Something besides killing, and me…” Tav hummed a bit as her elven lover washed her messy locks. “You're very good at sewing. Why not try that? The cloak you made for me is gorgeous.” 

“And yet you ripped it.” Astarion rolled his eyes as Tav sat between his legs.

“Technically the troll ripped it.” Tav sassed, before wincing at a slight tug on her hair. 

“Yes well who's fault is that now is it?” Astarion smirked. 

“You fixed it though, didn't you?” Tav grinned, turning back to look at him,“see this is a perfect hobby.”

“You just want me to be your personal seamstress don't you?” Astarion booped Tav's nose playfully.

“Would that be so terrible?” Tav tilted her head.

“Maybe not…I will admit I do rather like dressing you up…. Almost as much as I like undressing you.” He growled in her ear before planting a kiss on her neck. Tav couldn't help but giggle, feeling him wrap his arms around her ribs, pulling her back against his chest before resting his chin on top of her head with a sigh. “This is nice…” He hummed, resting his eyes. Tav let out a peaceful sigh before relaxing against him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peace never truly lasts. Eventually there's always something that comes along to throw one’s world back into chaos.  

Tav and Astarion had gone to bed, all snuggled up in their elegant silky sheets Tav had been able to purchase. She used funds she'd made while writing her popular book series ‘Blood-Mage’ (a ridiculously smutty novel featuring a handsome young sorcerer named Garrett Delarous who ends up forced to team up with Vampire Lord Arian Arcane to save the world or something…).

Tav laid there, bloodshot eyes staring at the ceiling while Astarion tranced beside her, arms wrapped around her plush waist as his head rested against her chest.  Usually Astarion’s embrace was enough to keep her anxiety fueled insomnia away but tonight her mind would not still. Too many thoughts ran a muck in her head, never calming down. It was almost maddening. 

Eventually she shut her eyes, trying her damndest to relax and drift away. She did a little exercise where she'd picture herself sleeping in her mind, thinking of the cool feeling of the sheets, the softness of her mattress and the comfort of her lover's arms.  Tav was so, so very close to drifting away, but then the worse happened.

“No! G-Get away!” A voice whimpered out beside her, sending Tav on high alert. Astarion had jerked away from her. “Master please! No more!” 

“Astarion.” Tav sat up and looked over at her panicked love.  She moved quickly to shake him awake, fearful he may hurt himself in his unconscious state with his thrashing.

“GET THE HELLS AWAY FROM ME!” He hissed, fangs barred as he dug his nails into the bed. Astarion was wide awake now, breathing quickly, frantically. His eyes were filled with terror as tears formed in the corners. 

“My love…. It's me….Tav…” Tav said calmly getting off the bed to give him space. “No one is going to hurt you. You're safe.”

“I….I saw him again….” The elf shakily choked out. “He was reciting poetry…as he carved it into my flesh...” Astarion took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure but he still shook like a leaf. “I'll never get rid of that fucking bastard!” 

“Cazador is dead, Astarion. He will never hurt you again.” Tav said calmly. “I will never let anyone hurt you again…” 

“You can't promise that Tav.” Astarion huffed, “he still lives in my head.”  The druid slowly moved towards him, heart aching as she noticed a tear running down his cheek.  

“You're so strong my love. I know you can overcome these demons, but I'm also here when you need me.” Tav said, slowly taking a seat back on the bed. She moved her hand towards him slightly, but not too close, just close enough for him to grab if need be. It took a few more moments before Astarion glanced back over at Tav, slowly intertwining his hand with hers and giving it a squeeze. “If you want to talk about it I will listen.” Tav said. 

“I don't…” Astarion said simply. 

“Well then I won't pry…” Tav gave him a sad smile. Astarion turned towards her before pulling her close and burying his face into her neck, arms slipping around her waist. She shushed him, rubbing circles on his back in a soothing manor. 

Astarion's old master was dead and gone, but he was certainly not forgotten. Tav knew better than most that the scars of the mind were far worse than the scars of the body.  All she could really do now was stay by her lover's side and whisper sweet nothings into his pointed ears.  

Eventually the two gave up on sleep for a bit. Tav had Astarion sit in one of their armchairs adorned in his eccentric silky red night robe as she scampered over to their cooking pot in only a tank and boxers. She grabbed one of the blood bank jars they kept stored away before pouring some into a mug and heating it over the fire just enough so it would appear fresh. She took the mug back over to Astarion once it was ready and gave it to him.  

“Thank you darling. I.. I'm sorry I must have woken you.” He muttered before sipping from his cup. 

“No. I actually haven't been able to sleep myself. My mind just won't settle down I suppose.” Tav hummed. 

“Were you thinking about the drow again?” Astarion asked. 

“Oh no…I..for once it wasn't him…Just a lot on my mind…Nothing important really.” 

“Tav! Astarion!” Suddenly Maddie's small voice called out as she came up the elevator and into their room.  “There is something very important you guys need to see in the basement!!!” The little black tressym flapped her wings in a panic before galloping over to them. The vampire and druid looked at each other before following their furry and feathered friend downstairs before eventually being met with a familiar face. 

Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep…or his projection self anyway. 

“Good evening, I come with an urgent message from Professor Gale of Waterdeep. He is in grave danger and is in dire need of your help.” The projection said.

“What? Can't the wizard take care of himself for one evening!” Astarion let out a frustrated sigh before crossing his arms.

“What happened!? Where's Gale?” Tav asked.

“The details of his predicament have been left enclosed in an envelope on your desk.” 

Tav hummed in confusion before walking over to her desk and tearing the envelope open. She expected a letter or maybe some cryptic message entailing that Gale was being held hostage in some dungeon somewhere, but no, all that stood out was an invitation to a formal extravagant soiree being thrown by some noble in Waterdeep. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Note From TheChaoticDruid: THIS IS THE SURPRISE I'D BEEN TEASING A WHILE BACK! I honestly wanted to do a fic like this ever since I'd seen people asking for a fancy party type of quest in BG3 and I was like yeah.....I want that too! Imma have to do some research for the next bit so don't expect super fast updates, but it will be continued.

Hope you enjoyed! And to all the people who recognize Maddie, you get this cookie 🫴🍪. Y'all are the real ones. 😎

~Druid

[pigeon-toes]

"Fate grants favors to no one. Only those who would fight it with every ounce of their being may earn the right to challenge it."

— Pierro, "The Jester"

◆ Name: Arlecchino

◆ Title: Dire Balemoon

◆ Head of the House of the Hearth

◆ Vision: Pyro

◆ Constellation: Ignis Purgatorius

Arlecchino: Dire Balemoon

Head of the House of the Hearth

To this day, Arlecchino still recalls that night when she was first appointed as a Harbinger.

Up the stairs and down the long gallery, with naught to see through the windows but a world of ice and snow without end.

The biting wind wailed loudly, now as mirthful laughter, now as somber farewell—

With a start, Arlecchino came to, the hallucinations of her memory mingling with the sounds of real-life conversation that surrounded her.

The hearthfire burned with vigor, its gentle warmth pervading the room, and its red light glowed on the children's faces, lighting up their innocent, unaffected smiles. If some uninformed passerby were to stumble in at this precise moment, they would surely mistake the scene before them for that of an ordinary, happy family.

But just as Arlecchino raised her steaming cup to take a sip of scalding-hot black tea, the clock began to chime — and within an instant, the laughter and cheer that filled the room were banished. The flames flickered so that for a moment the light faltered, the faces of all present cast in somber expression.

Placing her cup back down, Arlecchino stood up, and in a calm, measured tone, called out several names:

"Chapleau, you're with Lyney. Retrieve the required intelligence. Foltz, you and Filliol are on guard duty. Stay back and tend to the Hearth..."

"Yes, 'Father.'"

Without a redundant syllable, nor a hint of hesitation, they answered as one.

Not long after, the fire had dwindled and the house fallen utterly silent, with nothing to be seen but a single shaft of infiltrating moonlight, peeking through a gap in the curtains upon a cup of gradually cooling tea.

[thewingedbaron]

BG3 Fic Feburary Day Five!

(Still a little behind right now, but working on catching up)

WARNING: Depicitons of Violence and gore. If that's not your thing, maybe skip this one.

Read on Ao3

Day Five: First time seeing companions in battle

The crossbow bucked in Alyss’ hands as the bolt sped away and tore out the throat of the goblin sounding the war horn. The raiding group had already reached the Grove’s gates and were pounding mercilessly at three humans that had been locked outside when it shut. Alyss could see the defenders on top of the wooden wall, armed with crossbows and bows to  rain down fire on the attackers. Lot of good it was doing them. With the goblins attacking their mercenary allies in front of the gate, none of the defenders could get a clean shot. Not the mention the goblin’s own archers and casters working their hardest to keep the defender’s behind cover. That, Alyss decided, was where they would start.

“Lae’zel, get that bastard with the stick and work your way in toward the bugbear.” Alyss called, loading another bolt. “Gale, rocks for cover, do your best to cover the Blade of Frontiers.” 

“The what?” 

“The idiot who just jumped down into the fray waving a sword around.” Alyss snapped back. “Shadowheart, help me get the archers, then pinch the main group with Lae’zel.” 

There was a round of affirmative nods as the group set about their tasks. Lae’zel sprinted right, slamming into a knot of goblins like she had been launched from a catapult. Bodies and blood flew with each swing of her blade. 

Gale worked his way left, alternating between firebolts and ice crystals as he chipped away at the goblin’s own casters. Confused by the crossfire, one their warlocks stepped out of cover to find their new attackers, only the eat a firebolt to the face. One caster down, Alyss thought. 

For her part, Alyss started to wear down their archers. Ordinarily, she would aim to injure, firing for arms and legs. An injured target often took two out of the fight, but goblins cared little for their wounded. Instead, her bolts slammed into chests and shoulders, slowly dropping the opposing archers one by one. Next to her, Shadowheart whispered the words of a spell, capturing a flame in her hand. 

“Ignis!” She shouted, sending the flame off like a bolt of her own. A moment later, she cursed as it slammed into the stone cliff-face, a few feet above her intended target. Shadowheart snapped her fingers in frustration, and a holy flame slammed onto the goblin from above, removing them from the fight. Alyss cocked an eyebrow at her companion. 

“Watch out!” Shadowheart cried, throwing her shield arm over the ranger. Three impacts slammed into the hardwood face, intercepting shots meant for Alyss. The ranger snapped off another shot, dropping one of the offending goblins in response. 

“Sorry!” Alyss reloaded. “Didn’t see that one.” 

“You’re lucky.” Shadowheart replied, regaining her composure. “Eyes off me and on the enemy next time.” 

The pair paused, both faces turned a slightly deeper shade of red as Shadowheart’s words registered. 

“Lae’zel needs help. I’m, uh.” Shadowheart nodded several times to herself. Below them, the gith warrior was tearing through a pack of goblins on her way to the bugbear as if they were wet parchment. 

“Right, got your back.” Alyss replied stiffly. By the time either of them looked up, it was already over. The mercenaries were battered, but alive, and steaming mad. Lae’zel was surveying the scene like  a general overlooking a battlefield, waiting for the next target to reveal itself. Gale approached them slowly, too busy trying to scrape the blood off his robe to notice the awkward silence between the other two members of the party. 

“Well, that was quite fun, wasn’t it? That Lae’zel is quite the warrior.” Gale smiled. “Are you two injured? You both look like you’ve been walloped over the head with a goblin’s club.” Gale’s smile faded as his two companions nodded stiffly at him and began to make their way toward the Grove, not acknowledging each other, or him. Was it something he said? He pondered for a moment before realizing that he was alone on the battlefield. 

“Now wait just a moment, I’ll not be left behind!” He called, jogging after the party as the gate began to lift.

[noxwithoutstars]

✧｡:*▹ Ignidesolin

PT/ Ignidesolin /PT end

IDS/ Left: A flag with 7 horizontal stripes and 4 stripes with a triangular edge, 2 on the top and bottom. The stripes just after the middle are the thinnest, and the thickest ones are the outermost horizontal. Colors middle-out are dark indigo, dark magenta, deep red, red, orange, and orange-yellow. Right: A flag with 11 stripes. The middle is the thickest. Colors middle out are dark indigo, dark magenta, deep red, red, orange, and orange-yellow. /IDS end

✧ Ignidesolation is an umbrella term such as Macarshric and Spangender that describes genders that are related to destruction, pain, loss, cruelty, and merciless devastation. It is also related to fire and burning. It can also be associated with feelings of burnout, hopelessness, and emptiness (from destruction.) It is not inherently xenogender and can be a gender itself.

✧ Tagging : @radiomogai @transolar @revenant-coining @cherrymogai @in-nature-archive @aetherliomogai @en8y @vhsynder @veldian

Terminology :

✧ DESOLIN is the term for genders that are (Igni) desolation-in-nature.

✧ An Ignidesin is an Ignidesolation gender. There can be multiple Ignidesins.

✧ One can be Ignides and have Ignidesity (the equivalents of masculine and masculinity.) An Ignides also refers to an Ignidesol/Ignides being.

✧ Desolic is an Ignidesolation gender alignment (equivalent to xenic, fiaspec, etc.)

✧ Transdesolation is the equivalent of transneu, transmasc, etc.

✧ Optional pre/suffixes : Igni/desol- and -Ignid

[quillpokebiology]

sizzlipede facts please!

Sizzlipede Facts

(Art by Oreskis)

-The scientific name for Sizzlepede is "Centitta ignis." Centitta being a combination of "Centum" meaning hundred, and "Titta" meaning "ribbon." Ignis means flame. The rough translation for Sizzlipede is "Hundred-ribbon flame"

-Sizzlipede are arthropods, which are members of the invertebrate family. This makes them related to pokemon like Galvantula, Ariados, and Krabby

-The Sizzlepede line's closest relative is the Venipede line. However, they don't seem to get along

-Sizzlipede are generalist predators and will eat anything they can get their hands on

-Sizzlipede absorb flammable gasses produced by decaying plant matter to make them hotter

-They produce more heat when angry. You can tell when they're mad when there is smoke coming from them

-Unlike many other bug types, Sizzlepede don't have any visible sex differences between males and females

-Sizzlepede live in mountains and Volcanoes. However, they do quite well in cold temperatures for their body heat, and many of them can be found living in the Nixalba region of Galar

(Art by uboachannel on Chicken Smoothie)

-Since they get their energy from flammable plants, it's important to always have compost ready when caring for one

-Sizzlipede have long lifespans compared to other bug types, being able to live for over 50 years. They live even longer in captivity

-Sizzlipede have slightly toxic bites that's amplified by their hot teeth. This can leave a slight numbing sensation along with burn

-Sizzlipede and Centiskorch have very small ocelli along their body. These help them see better when in dark places

-Sizzlipede are hunted by bird Pokemon like Corvisquire, Corviknight, Rufflet, Tranquill, and Unfezant. They'll often get into heated battles with these Pokemon, and they won't go down without a fight

-Sizzlipede blood is a medium orange instead of red or white, like most bug types

-In the Nixalba regions of Galar, some people will eat roasted Sizzlipede (normally I don't put my opinions when it comes to cultural stuff, but I find the irony of that interesting)

-Sizzlipede have been known to be quite fond of Larvesta, and sometimes even avoid hunting them all together. Because of this, Sizzlipede crossbreeding with a Larvesta is the most common for the species (my theory is that they like the softness of them or they see them as equals for also being fire/bug types)

-Talking about Crossbreeds, Sizzlipede are Pokemon that don't like mating outside of their species much, so it can be a bit difficult to breed them

If you're curious, here are some Centiskorch facts!

[oceansssblue]

~ [MAGICAL CREATURES SERIES] – THE BAD BATCH AU (N4)

Pt3. "THE SMELL OF FIRE" HUNTER/PHOENIX!OFC

THERE'S SOMETHING STRANGE HAPPENING IN THE SMALL MOON PLACED ON THE EDGES OF THE GALAXY WITH THE UNKOWN REGIONS. THEIR PEOPLE ARE RESERVED AND SECRETIVE; TRYING TO APPEAR NORMAL, THOUGH HUNTER HEAVILY SUSPECTS THEY AREN'T. HIS NOSE EASILY PICKS UP THE SMELL OF ASH AND FIRE.

WARNINGS (pt3): NONE, JUST FLUFF. 💖

Link for part 1:

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hunter had had enough. The rest of the Batch seemed to be perfectly fine with their fourth week in Aodh; but after a whole month of it's secretive –although polite– people, the clone sargent had had enough. He couldn't trust them. Couldn't trust Alinta; no matter how soft her expression turned when she looked after her father or when the kids from the tribe ran up to talk to her. He couldn't help but feel he was just waiting for the ticking bomb to explode; for them to finally reveal themselves. For something bad to happen; and he wasn't –couldn't– see his family hurt.

Hunter directly confronted her. It was night when he followed her to the cabin Alinta shared with her father; Aodh's quietness putting his tracking skills to test. His steps were cautious on the moon's silvery sand; not wanting to be caught by the perceptive woman. It was only when they were both sufficiently separated from the rest of the tribe when Hunter striked; pushing her against a tree with both hands firmly pressed against her shoulders. Alinta's face morphed from instinctual agression towards bewildered confusion.

Hunter's deep raspy voice cut through the silence of the night; tone just as firm as his hands.

"I'm tired of games" he growled. "You're going to tell me what your tribe is hiding. Why you all smell like you do without any sort of fire around us. I've been patient. But I'm not letting my family stay this close to your people anymore without a honest answer. And don't try to lie to me. I'll know".

An amused smirk made it's way through Alinta's face. She should have guessed the man wouldn't have been able to reign the ignorance in any longer.

Well, if he wanted the truth, the truth he will have.

It happened so fast Hunter had barely had a few seconds to analyse the animal that transformed in front of him before Alinta was back in her original shape. It was a bird with the size of half of the Marauder; central body almost black while the feathers of the wings and tail turned to a mix of vibrant oranges, yellows and reds. The animal preserved Alinta's burning red gaze and her fiery hair was represented by the scarlet red feathers on the dorso of the bird's head and neck. It had strong sharp claws and a powerful beak. And it had seemed to almost shine in the darkness of Aodh's night.

Hunter, still sprawled on the ground to where he had been pushed by Alinta's sudden transformation, stared at her human form with wide eyes.

"W-what... What are you?" He finally managed to ask.

He felt divided between astonishment, wonder, and fear. Alinta seemed to notice this and replied in a calm, soothing voice. For once, she didn't seem to find the clone's feelings entertaining. The truth was that the woman had actually started to enjoy Hunter's distrustful but gentle and interesting presence; and she didn't want to cause havoc.

"Ignis-su Bennu" she answered, in her own melodic language. "Tribe think we born of fire spirit. Two body, one soul. A small part of Bennu spirit in all tribe".

Hunter frowned. He couldn't shake his surprise yet, and more questions arised in his head. Tech was going to have a field work day when he found out.

"Okay... But you're not the same as the rest of your tribe, right?" Hunter slowly stood up again, not bothering to shake the sand off while he kept his mesmerised eyes on her. "You smell different. You feel different. I... don't really know how to explain it. There's something, some... Energy, alive inside of you. It's not on the rest".

Alinta smiled. The man was just as perceptive as she had previously guessed. It was an attractive feature.

"Yes, I different. Tribe Ignis Bennu. Me Ignis su. No more su in tribe, only one in..." Alinta paused, brow deepening in sudden frustration. She made a circular gesture with her index, and added a confused "very year?" that inevitably pulled a tiny soft smile from Hunter.

"Decade?" Was his first guess, bringing up his ten fingers, but the woman shook her head.

"Baby. One of this" she paused. "That baby has a baby. Another one of this. You get me?"

"Generation" Hunter realized. "There's only one of your type per generation".

Alinta sighed in relief and nodded. Hunter's chocolate eyes curiously swiped over her.

"And what's exactly the difference?"

Alinta swayed in her feet in a nervous gesture. Hunter noticed the change in her openness, and reigned in the need to reassure her.

"Me play fire" she explained. "Egon says Bennu pick me. Much respect here".

Hunter's face morphed to surprise once again. Not only she transformed into a... –phoenix of sorts?–, but also controled fire?

"Can you show me?"

It wasn't that he didn't believe her. Hell, he'd probably believe everything at that moment. He just wanted to see it. Felt intrigued by it.

Alinta's nervousness only increased; but she gave him a quick reluctant nod and extended her hand towards him, palm facing up. Her intimidating red eyes burned brighter and a small fire danced in her hand. The flames didn't float over her palm; but seemed to grow directly from within her skin, as if it came from inside of her. Hunter gasped and watched.

Alinta turned the flames off with a deep sigh. Hunter read the tired posture of her muscles and the relief in her face.

"Does it hurt?" He inevitably worried.

The woman shook her head, her short red hair flying to the sides once again.

"No. No hurt. I..." she paused. It felt like she was going to add something else, give him a deeper explanation; but she nibbled on her lower lip with her small sharp fangs and backtracked. "No hurt, Hunter".

The clone decided to let it pass. She had already revealed too much of herself to him that night; there was no necessity to push her further.

"Can you use your fire outside of your body? Like... Throw it, or something?" He felt silly asking, but he wanted to know.

Alinta nodded.

Hunter hesitated.

"Is that... Is your power the reason why your skin feels warmer, too?"

As in trying to mock his words –or maybe herself–, the woman's cheeks slightly redenned under her pale grey skin. She had enjoyed the small fleeting ocasional contact with the man's hands, arms, or thighs –while they both watched the kids from her tribe playing sitting besides each other–; but Alinta hadn't realised he had taken note of that. It somehow felt intimate, vulnerable, coming from his lips. Alinta's red eyes unconsciously flickered towards them.

"Yes. I... burn. Can make my skin warmer until pain to touch. Sometimes..." she looked down towards the sand as if ashamed with herself. "Sometimes hard to control skin with feelings".

"As in you can accidentally burn someone if you get angry or sad?" The words were out of his mouth before Hunter could process them.

Alinta's back straightened and a haunted sadness and that same nervous energy returned full force to her. She silently nodded, and Hunter swore to himself. Was that what had happened with his father?

"Hey, I'm..." he carefully and slowly reached for her hand. "I'm sorry".

Alinta's red eyes somehow seemed innocently young when she looked up at him in surprise. Hunter remembered she wasn't that much older than him. Her tribe treated her with so much respect and reverence that sometimes it was easy to forget that fact. Had it... Had it been difficult for her to live as a child, as the young adult she had just turned to, as well? With all that expectation directed towards her?

Hunter's thumb had gently swiped comfortingly over her skin before he had the change to analyse his movements. Alinta's red eyes traveled towards their jointed hands and back up to his eyes again. Hunter's expression was opened towards her. The woman relaxed and sighed.

Carefully, almost expectantly, she squeezed her hand around his; a tiny smile popping in her face when he answered the gesture.

Hunter's heart beated harder on his chest.

His voice was a whisper. Although it put him on the spot, it made him vulnerable, exposed, he needed to know.

"Why do I feel this... conexion with you?"

It was Alinta's turn to experience shock. It quickly softened to a warm shy understanding; her skin slowly heating under his touch.

"You... Feel things better" she tried to explain, remembering Tech's explanation on the Batch's unique abilities. "Egon say fire spirit in all galaxy people, only more small than us. I think your small part of spirit fire can feel... can call my part because your..."

"Because my abilities make me reach into energies around me better than anyone else" he finished for her, nodding in understanding. "I get what you're saying".

They kept looking at each other for several seconds; Hunter humming distractedly at Alinta's warming skin under his fingers. He glanced at her, and a shy smile formed on her lips.

Reluctantly, he let her hand drop from his.

"Have you heard of the Force?" Alinta denied it, and Hunter tried to explain it in a simple way. "Jedis... Said there are this midiclorians inside of us, inside of every living being in the galaxy, that conects us together. Some have the ability to use them and... Exteriorize them in various shapes. They're able to heal others in ways I've never seen, and to feel things normal people can't, because this midiclorians are abnormally high in them. I wonder... I wonder if it's the same thing. If Egon and your tribe have named the Force as that fire spirit, Bennu, and your people have just found the way to exteriorize it in new ways".

Alinta seemed deep in thought for one minute, pondering his theory; before her eyes turned dark with worry and a cautious warning escaped her lips.

"You no tell others. Yes family, no others. Of my people" she pointed out. "We safe here. Had war with other stars in old times. They try have our fire. We need to be safe".

Hunter understood the secrecy right then and there. He wasn't surprised others had tried to study them, use their power. He inmediately thought of the Empire.

"I won't" he promised, and Alinta sighed in relief.

Hunter still had questions without an answer. Which stars did she refer to, other planets in the Unkown Regions and civilizations they weren't aware that existed? How long ago had that been? What other beliefs did her people have? What had exactly happened with her father? Did... Did she feel that call towards him, as well?

Alinta's warm hand grazed his shoulder in a quiet tentative goodbye and Hunter watched her dissapear in the forest, towards her cabin.

He sighed. At least the cat was out of the bag.

END OF PART THREE

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

PART FOUR HERE:

HERE WE HAVE THE THIRD PART OF OUR HUNTER/PHOENIX STORY GUYS!! IT TOOK ME A BIT LONGER TO PUBLISH CAUSE I'VE BEEN STRUGGLING WITH SAD-HAPPY-SAD LATELY SO I DIDN'T FEEL VERY MOTIVATED TO WRITE. BUT HERE IT ISSS! THE SECRET IS OUT OF THE BOX AND HUNTER FINALLY KNOWSS. FEELINGS SLOWLY GROWING BETWEEN THEM AS WELL.

WE'VE GOT THREE MORE CHAPTERS TO FINISH THIS ARCH! WE'RE GONNA HAVE SOME MORE DEVELOPING FLUFF FOR CHAPTER 4, ACTION FOR 5, AND A HAPPY ENDING AT 6!

I HOPE YOU'VE LIKED THIS PART AND THIS STORY SO FAR. PLEASE LET ME KNOW! HELPS SO MUCH. REBLOG IF U CAN!

IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED ON THIS OR ANY OF MY STORIES LET ME KNOW.

REMEMBER ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LENGUAGE SO FORGIVE MY MISTAKES!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to general masterlist here:

Back to magical creature series here:

[electric-hydrangea]

Arlecchino's Past & Her Being the Grim Reaper

Spoilers/leaks for 4.6 ahead

Made by Rosie Posie and Daniel :3

reposted from my twitter, leak-censored version on the genshin lore subreddit

The Fall of the Faded Castle

The Fall of the Faded Castle is where Arlecchino’s lore can be found. “The Mask of the Red Death” by Poe is the inspiration for this book. I’d recommend reading it, it’s very similar!

It’s referenced in Arlecchino’s kit (her infused normal attack), its name being “Mask of the Red Death”

The book has numerous references to the blood moon and debts owed, something also found in Arlecchino’s kit, as well as the use of the word “baleful”. 

In her Character Introduction, she hallucinates her past in a way very similar to TFotFC. The lines are meant to parallel each other; the scene being the same but the setting is now different.

The final paragraph of her Character Introduction references the ending of TFotFC, and the moonlight that flows into the hearth through the window symbolizes her past. 

TFotFC mentions the clock striking midnight and the castle master becoming panicked for the reaper that would come to collect his blood debt, and then Arlecchino’s introduction mentions her taking control over the room when the clock chimes. 

Remuria

To move onto Arlecchino’s connections with Remuria, it requires extra context about Remus, the leader of Remuria.

Remus had his own sin, different from Egeria, where he altered life by dissolving his people into Golems. He meant for them to live for eternity, but the souls instead shattered.

While Egeria was punished by Celestia, Remus was punished by Arlecchino. The Fall of The Fated Castle is about Arlecchino punishing Remus. She’s responsible for Remuria falling. I know there are some really passionate Remuria fans, I hope I am not massacring the story haha. I’m more into the Ordo #sandronenation

Edit: it’s been brought to my attention that the guy in the story probably isn’t Remus, and I’m also on board with that. The guy who the Grim Reaper is hunting isn’t entirely relevant, but I suggest instead: Boethius

Unsorted Chapter

She’s still dead though; she’s glitching. She’s otherworldly. TFotFC describes the Grim Reaper as having two cold eyes that can pierce your soul with a glance. It questions if they are a lord returning from an ancient world, or the nightmare itself. 

In the origins of her name, Arlecchino, in commedia del’arte, it’s said to trace back to Dante’s Inferno; a devil going by the name Alichino. Her character type is the “devil” stock character, but that character can also be molded into whatever, like being a lighthearted prankster.

She also has a scythe.. Grim Reaper much? She also marks enemies with her blood debt, something in her kit. The scythe effect that the polearm has is one that only Arlecchino can use. Her whole kit uses wording that can be attributed to TFotFC and the hearth. 

The boss Arlecchino can be found at a grave. The writing says “Crucabena”, who is also “Ceridwen”. Crucabena is the Gallic equivalent. Ceridwen is the Welsh goddess of rebirth, which is a part of Arlecchino’s whole thing. Her grave’s subtitle could be referencing how the hearth is of two worlds.

Arlecchino’s constellation “Ignis Purgatorius” is based off of the poem “Purgatorius Ignis” by Christopher Okemwa. I don’t really know what’s going on in this poem, but I’d be more than happy to hear what others think.

Perinheri

Her character introduction shows us that she is in control of the hearth (in the Orphanage), and Perinheri shows more of her themes in the hearth; this could symbolize her being reborn as Arlecchino from being the Grim Reaper.

In book “Perinheri”, Perinheri is locked in a hearth and has to crawl through it. Then, he is asked if he has seen “it” yet, and if he is dead. When he turned around, he saw the Crimson Moon and a titanic horrified eye. After Perinheri was released from the hearth, he was told that he traversed through the fire of two worlds within the hearth and he is now reborn.

The Crimson Moon is Arlecchino, and the eyeball Perinheri saw is on her head in her boss fight. 

TLDR

TLDR Arlecchino was the Grim Reaper and punished Remus for his crimes and then was reborn as Arlecchino but something is still wrong with her because she’s glitching. It could be because she’s caught between the two worlds within the hearth. 

We also don’t have voice lines, character stories, or artifact lore leaks though so a lot of information is probably missing.

There are more connections to be made with Arlecchino, Caterpillar, the grave, Perinheri, and the experiments done on Caterpillar, but I don’t think I have enough to try and cover that.

[blackjackkent]

Rakha walks warily down the outside of the ship, watching the hellish landscape roll by. It is somehow even hotter and more humid out here; every once in a while the enormous dragons spin dizzily into and out of view, blazing more flame into the ship's fleshy bulk.

She feels undirected, aimless, conscious only of the need to keep moving, of threat on all sides. I need answers. I need to get out of here...

She hears the footstep behind her almost a second too late.

She turns just in time to see the flash of movement as the unfamiliar form leaps out of the shadows. It's a woman - lithe, armored, carrying a shining sword - and she makes an elaborate, graceful flip in midair and lands in front of Rakha with the sword held in a menacing attitude.

"Abomination!" she snarls. "This is your end!"

THREAT. KILLKILLKILLKILL, demands the fear in Rakha's gut, coalescing into rabid terror in an instant, and her hands clench into fists; it is hard to say what she might have done if a sudden stabbing pain didn't temporarily blot out all thought.

Narrator: Your head throbs and your skin tingles. Visions rush past - a dragon's wing, a silver sword... and a flash of your face, seen through the strange woman's eyes.

Rakha's head snaps back, confused, shaken. That face-- it's mine. She doesn't know how she knows it, having no memory of a mirror, but it was her all the same, as seen out of this stranger's gaze. The worm gave her a view of the other woman's thoughts.

The woman stares at her with the same guarded confusion, clutching her temple.

"My head. What is this.... ngh..." She groans, forces herself to straighten up, and looks Rakha over more keenly. Then, astonishingly, she smiles fiercely. "Tsk'va," she hisses. "You are no thrall. Vlaakith blesses me this day - together we might survive!"

Rakha is so baffled that for a moment the urge to lash out is dimmed. Thrall? Vlaakith? Who is this woman? Their skin colors are almost a match, ears similar - not the same, though, no tusks. She wears heavy armor while Rakha wears only the light robe she came out of the pod wearing. She is vibrating with undirected energy.

"Who are you?" Rakha growls.

"Who am I?" the woman snaps impatiently. "Your only chance of survival."

Survival. Yes. I want to survive. I need answers. The only purpose she has had since waking up. "We need to figure out where we are," she says hoarsely.

The woman sneers. "We can do nothing until we escape. That must be our priority." She points down the path, where several small red shapes are feasting on the corpse of another. "First we exterminate the imps. Then we find the helm and take control of the ship. We will address the matter of a cure for this infection once we reach the Material Plane."

Rakha's jaw works. The woman's air of decisiveness is compelling; it stands against the panic and the rage tingling through her. And the instructions are ones she can follow. Exterminate. Yes. She finds herself nodding, focusing on the imps the woman indicated.

The woman darts away without waiting for a response and Rakha breaks into a run to follow her.

-----

The fight against the imps is... a surprise.

If Rakha expects anything at all, it's that she will grab one of the little red creatures by the neck and squeeze and squeeze the way she did to the brain inside the ship. But something in her, something deep, knows how to fight in another way, because when the imps start bearing down on them, her hands come up in an instinctive gesture.

The rage for a moment obliterates everything again. She does not merely want to defend herself, she wants this creature dead.

"IGNIS!" she bellows, and fire shoots out of her fingers.

The imp screams as the fire consumes it, crashing to the floor.

She's so startled that Lae'zel (for that is the strange angular woman's name) has to finish the battle by herself, which she does, quickly and methodically.

When the battle is over, Lae'zel looks up from checking the bodies of the dead and squints pensively at Rakha. "You are a spellcaster," she says matter-of-factly. "Good. That will serve us well."

"I... guess I must be," Rakha mutters, nudging the creature she burned with her boot toe.

Lae'zel raises an eyebrow skeptically. "You do not know? Have you taken a blow to the head?" she asks. It's not a question of concern, but practicality - or perhaps an insult.

"I'm not sure I didn't," Rakha says slowly. Speaking still feels odd, like it's someone else's mouth and she's just borrowing it. "I... don't remember anything," she admits. "I woke up here. That's it."

Lae'zel frowns. "Curious. Perhaps the tadpole damaged your memories," she says, and, satisfied with this answer and fundamentally disinterested in any problems beyond the immediate one, seems to think no more about it. "You fight well, nevertheless. Keep your wits about you and we may perhaps survive. "

[dreamlandreader]

Mythology, Folklore and Behind the Scenes Fact File

Welcome to the fact file for Foolish Fire, a place where you can find more information on the background of the inspirations behind my Secret Santa gift for the amazing @popjunkie42-blog 💖

All of the inspiration I have taken from myths and folktales have been adapted to the story I am trying to tell, but where I have made creative adjustments, I will try to point out the changes below.

Erebus Forest In Greek mythology, Erebus is the personification of darkness. Some Ancient Greek authors also use Erebus to describe the particular form of gloom found in the Underworld. The concept of Erebus is most famously mentioned in Homer's Iliad, in which Erebus is the physical location that Hercules must venture into to collect the three-headed dog Cerberus. This mythology inspired the name of the forest in Foolish Fire due to the importance of how dark this particular forest gets and the impact this has within this story.

Will-o'-the-wisps These little creatures are tricky beings found in numerous forms in various European folktales. Traditionally known for mimicking the flickering light of a lantern, will-o'-the-wisps use their light to deceive weary travellers into getting lost.

Within this story, I decided to make it so that the will-o'-the-wisps are utilised by other creatures in the forest to capture prey and have a particular ability to cause a dreamlike trance in their victims. The title for this fic comes from the Latin translation for Will-o’-the-Wisp (ignis fatuus), which directly translates to foolish fire in English.

Belisama Lake The lake Feyre finds herself wading into during Foolish Fire is called Belisama Lake, a name inspired by the Celtic Goddess of lakes and fire, whose name, it has been reported, translates to ‘Most Mighty One’. During the Roman period, the river currently known as Ribble River, which runs through the North of England, was referred to as the Belisama in honour of the Goddess.

The Monster in the Lake The creature Feyre encounters in the waters of the Erebus forest was inspired by a mixture of one very famous creature from Scottish folklore, and an aquatic beast from approximately 240 million years ago.

The Loch Ness Monster The concept of creatures lurking beneath the surface in large bodies of water was not new in 1933 when the Loch Ness Monster was first brought to light on a global scale, however, Nessie is perhaps the most famous of all mythological lake monsters. Nestled in the Scottish Highlands, Loch Ness attracts vast numbers of tourists every year, hoping to catch a glimpse of the famed creature who is said to reside there.

The Nothosaurus Whilst the inspiration to add an underwater challenge to Foolish Fire came from the legend of Loch Ness, the real-life inspiration for the creature itself comes from a long extinct semi-oceanic reptile, who at 14 metres in length, dominated waters in the Triassic Period. The Nothosaurus was a carnivorous animal with needle-like teeth and a thick tail that acted as a paddle to steer it through the water.

The Empusa This shape-shifting female, with one copper leg (and sometimes a donkey’s leg, too), is commanded by Hecate in Greek mythology and uses her abilities to seduce and feed on young men. For this reason, she was compared to a vampire in the ‘Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology’ by William Smith (1849).

In Foolish Fire, the Empusa roams the woodlands of Pythian and is one of the most wanted creatures by all seven High Lords for the numerous violent deaths she causes yearly.

The Waterfall The waterfall Rhys and Feyre stumble upon in chapter three is inspired by Plitvice Lakes National Park and the stunning waterfalls that are found there.

The glowing element of the waterfall is inspired by the natural beauty of bioluminescent waters like those found in many locations such as New Zealand, Cambodia and the Maldives.

The Red Shoes The Red Shoes is a Danish fairytale, written by Hans Christian Anderson in the mid-1800's. It has been adapted numerous times, perhaps most famously in 1948 in a film adaptation by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. The tale also inspired singer-songwriter Kate Bush's seventh studio album of the same name.

The Cyclops Over the years there were many interpretations of cyclops in Greek mythology, famously however, three talented cyclopes named Arges, Steropes, and Brontes, help to craft Zeus's thunderbolt. With their distinct single eye in the centre of their heads, cyclopes are incredibly recognisable characters, even in the modern age.

Cerberus Hades three-headed dog Cerberus is the famed creature who guards the gates to the Underworld. His three heads and serpents tails makes him an incredibly terrifying creature in Greek mythology, but in Foolish Fire a baby Cerberus is the sweetest of all little pups and makes the perfect addition to Feyre and Rhysand's perfect little family.

Click here to find to the series masterlist

[weirdgirlcroix]

@void-botanist I'm making a whole new post on my main so I don't hijack your writeblr but re: salmon leap it's perfectly okay that there's no salmon in it because Cú Chulainn is in Puzzle and Dragons, one of my favorite video games ever, and now I get to infodump about it. For context PAD is a gacha game (sorry) where you match orbs on the board to attack monsters and.. that's the entire game they only just added story dungeons like a couple years ago but I like it a lot. It's like if bejeweled had bigger numbers and let you move the jewels anywhere you wanted. And the music and weapon designs are really cool.

(disclaimer: I don't play PAD consistently anymore and I'm kinda behind on the meta, and I've never used Cú Chulainn on a team, so take all of this with a grain of salt)

So this is card #1209, Wolf Hero, Ignis Cú Chulainn. 1209 sounds like a lot but this game has been around since like.. 2012, and idk when this card dropped but it's likely pretty close to ten years.

(source)

There are a lot of different evos but I'm just going with this one for now. I doubt it's historically accurate, this game just pulls deities from a lot of different mythologies and does whatever the hell it wants with them. But it does look cool!

It's a wood/fire attribute, which means it deals wood (PAD version of grass type in Pokémon) and fire damage. Since fire is its second attribute it usually doesn't deal as much fire damage.

So these are its current awoken skills. Those are basically like passive skills that deal extra damage, change how the board looks, etc. for example the one with the 7 and the red arrow makes it so that if you get 7 combos or more, that card gets a damage boost. The more of those 7c skills a card has, the more that effect is multiplied. So having 3 of them on one card is pretty cool. I don't think 1209 is the strongest card at all but it's gotten a lotttt of buffs since it first dropped; the entire game is subject to a lot of power creep so the devs are constantly adapting old cards to fit the new meta.

The blue squares are a different type of awoken skill called a latent awakening, and if I explained every detail I'd be here all day but basically they increase how much damage 1209 does against certain types of monsters. It doesn't have all of those latents at once but I could pick a few to give to it if I wanted.

So now I'd like to take a look at a different Cú Chulainn Evo that I have actually used, #3919, Gáe Bulg. The huge jump in numbers is because this card was added like years after 1209.

(source)

Tbh I don't remember which team I used this card on, it's been years, but I can tell you how to use it. This is a special type of evo called an assist (or inherit). Basically that means that you don't put the card on a team as its own unit. Instead you attach it to a different card, and the main card "inherits" this card's awoken skills, its active skill (which is basically when you press a button and then something cool happens like a stat boost or changing the attributes of the orbs of the board), and a fraction of its stats IF the inherit and the main card share an attribute. 3919 is just a wood attribute, so based on that alone it'd be best on a wood attribute card if you want that stat boost. But you can also look at the awoken and active skills to make sure:

Active skill: Unlock all orbs; Change Heal, Jammer, Poison, Mortal Poison, and Bomb orbs to Wood orbs

(source)

To be clear, this set of awoken skills is kinda weak by 2024 meta standards if you're trying to beat mid-level to endgame dungeons and there are plenty of better cards you can use. 3919 hasn't been hit by the power creep beam. But let's pretend that it's 2016-ish and this is a really powerful card still lol. So starting with the awoken skills, the sword and shield one just tells you that all the following skills can be used by the main card as well. There are 2 enhanced wood orb awokens. Each orb deals a set amount of damage on its own, but when it's enhanced that damage is multiplied by a small amount. The one with the fire attribute symbol on the shield makes that fire attribute types against you deal slightly less damage. And the sword just boosts that card's overall attack a little bit. Finally the active creates more wood orbs, which goes well with the orb enhance awokens. Basically, this is the kind of card you'd want on a team that mostly deals wood attribute damage.

I don't really have a conclusion for this, I could spend an hour talking about these cards alone because this game is so dense lol. But yeah, that's the kinda info you'd take into account if you were building a team. I left a lot of details out but if people ask I'm always happy to explain. Tentatively pinging @vacantgodling and @wayfarer-orca , because y'all both like this game iirc and would maybe enjoy seeing it on the dash

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 24 - From Druids, With Love

Y'all fight a swamp, Lae'zel is a cornered alley cat, and the group rethinks their life choices.

Rated M for language and violence.

On AO3.

The good news is y’all find a path to that island with the big tree so y’all don’t have to wade through murky, probably leech-infested swamp water.

The bad news is that there’s monsters crawling all over the island once y’all get there.

“Shitfuck!” you holler.

Bunch of flying, gremlin fuckers fucking explode when they die. You been knocked flat on your back with all the air slammed out of you twice, now. And that was before the swamp ents emerged to rip the roots out of the ground and send them writhing around like fucking snakes.

Lae’zel is chopping at one of them roots, yelling something about her queen. Shadowheart snarls between casting spells left and right, trying to either shield y’all from getting hit, or repairing the likely internal bleeding when you (especially you) get hit.

You’d feel better if you got run over by a goddamn bus.

But you still shove yourself back on your feet as another fucking mud gremlin shrieks and comes flapping at you—

The arrow just appears in its skull. Fucking thing drops like a sack of stones. Skids in the mud y’all’ve been slipping and sliding through, and starts fucking twitching at your feet. This one does not explode, thank fuck.

You look up. Astarion catches your eye, another arrow already knocked in the bow he’d found somewhere. Can’t even wave a thanks, because he’s taking aim at the swamp ent charging you. He shoots it where the eye should be.

Fucker doesn’t even slow—

It swats out. The impact crashes through you. Feet leave the ground as something gives in your chest and you go weightless. Until you smack into the water and bounce off the shallow bottom. Surface wheezing, gasping for air through ribs that scream. Fuck, they gotta be broken fuck.

A shout. Lae’zel charges another swamp ent. Her big fuck off sword arcs down. Hits the thing’s arm. And gets stuck partway through. She pauses for a fraction of a second, and then readjusts her grip to yank it free. But those fuckers are way faster than something that big ought to be.

It slams her. Smacks her flying into the big ass tree. She crashes with a clang of metal and, even worse, a cry.

“Ignis!” Gale’s voice reverberates as a bolt of fire roars past.

The swamp ent flinches away. Kicks one tree trunk leg high—

“Shadowheart,” you wheeze.

Brings it down in a rippling wave of torn dirt and roots that take Shadowheart clean off her feet and bury her.

“Fuck fuck!”

This was your idea. You brought everyone here. They followed you for some fucking reason, and they should have known better. You should have known better. You’re incompetent, incapable, and they’re all going to die because of you.

“Ignis!” Not Gale. Astarion lobs a bolt of fire. This one grazes the swamp ent. This time, the motherfucker screeches. It sounds like wood squealing; you hear that in Oklahoma after an ice storm, the branches coated in inches of frozen rain, the weight too much so limbs rip off in the night with that same sound.

Fire hurts it. Not swords or arrows or three, red (phaser) magic blasts Gale chucks.

They’re trees. They’re made of wood.

“I’m fucking stupid!” you say and slosh back to shore. Fall to your knees. White out for a second as your ribcage jolts and all your internal organs sort of freeze.

Gale and Astarion have taken the high ground on some tiny ass bluff. With the girls down, everything converges on them.

You grab your bag and upend it in the mud. No time for care. Paw through the jumble of your stuff. You know you have one. You’d picked it up at some point, or maybe it just came with the pack, but you know you have one. Bottle about the size of a pepsi. No markings, no—ah!

A plain, brown bottle with a faded, blank label. You’d been peering into it when Gale had sauntered by one time.

You’re not fast. You’re not strong. You can’t swing a sword or utter a lick of magic.

But by god, you can throw a fucking bottle.

It twirls through the air. Clips the shoulder of one swamp ent to burst all over the backside of the other. Grease spatters everywhere.

“Fire!” you say as best you can and then pass out for just a second. It’s not enough for Gale to catch over the cacophony of the fight.

But Astarion, with his stupid vampire elf ears, turns. Spots you. Follow your cringing gesture to the shards of brown glass and the shine coating the swamp ent.

He grins. “Ignis!”

Big, wooden bitch goes up like a christmas tree soaked in kerosene. It goes up so fast and so strong, it catches the other one on fire, too.

Without their big buddies around to protect them, Astarion and Gale make short work of the mud gremlins.

And that’s that. The fight is fucking over.

You can roll onto your back (suck in a gasp at the pain which makes it about eighteen times worse). Spend a few seconds not breathing, not moving as your chest spasms and the pain chews through your brain.

Cool hands touch the side of your neck. Sweat and swamp muck and the vague scent of wet rot. But beneath that, something light and floral.

Shadowheart frowns down at you. Sees you looking and gives a nod. She says her prayer and her hands light up and sweet, sweet relief washes through you like water over a cracked and broken riverbed.

You slump into a boneless sprawl.

“Thank you,” you say.

She starts to stand. Probably to go over and make sure Lae’zel has a pulse—the others call her a cleric, and apparently that means some kind of team medic. She takes that very seriously.

You catch her wrist just long enough to catch her attention. “Gale says we’re low on potions. Please don’t give her one, if you still got magic.”

She arches an eyebrow. “She won’t take that advice from me, you know.”

You close your eyes. Sigh. “God fucking damnit.”

And you roll, slowly, painfully, to your feet.

***

Shadowheart is correct. You’ve had an easier time bathing a cat in water than you do convincing Lae’zel to let Shadowheart heal her. The solution is damn near the same for both.

“Gale, you can paralyze people for a second, right?” you say.

He frowns, lips shaping “paralyze”, and his brows lift. “Hold person. Yes, I very much can.”

Lae’zel’s glare could probably punch through tank armor. “You would not dare.”

You look at her for a full three seconds. Then, “I’m fucking tired. I’m covered in filth, we’re in the middle of a goddamn swamp getting eaten by bugs, and there’s some kinda hag lurking around which sounds very scary. This is the fastest way.”

In the end, after a shit ton of grumbling, she lets Shadowheart lay on the jesus hands. Shadowheart does the job, but wincing and sneering the whole time. You’ve seen alley cats greet each other with better manners.

But it’s done. Y’all loot bodies for parts (mud gremlin pieces can be boiled down and rendered into one of the ingredients for Gale’s dirt potion, so that’s a badly needed win). Astarion finds some kind of thief gloves. Shadowheart and Lae’zel stand as far apart as they can while still, technically, remaining within the group perimeter.

And you find a chest with gold, a ring that glows faintly, and a shirt that has not a single fucking blood stain on it anywhere (you do not tear up). And while you’re totally not swiping your face with your wet, stinking, current shirtsleeve, you notice the crack in the tree.

Within, is another letter. You can’t read it, of course. Which leaves you in a conundrum.

Gale seems the most trustworthy. But you only got this far because of what Astarion found (and eventually shared). He’s also seen you in your least savory moments, and hasn’t appeared to have shared that with any of the others.

You hand the letter to him. And the entire group seems to rethink the life choices that lead to them following after you.

Except for Astarion, who lifts his eyebrows before giving a tiny tilt of his head that isn’t quite a bow. He cracks the seal. Reads silently. Says, “Oh, this is delicious.”

Bitch better not hold this against you again. He’s gonna do it. Gonna blackmail you or tease you or just in general be a dick. So when he looks at you and says, “Looks like you were correct, my dear” you almost think the dirt potion wore off.

Astarion skims the letter again, eyes tracking back and forth in a blur, and then he hands the letter to Shadowheart.

“Someone is helping Kahga with the promise of making her First Druid,” he says. “Should she succeed in finishing whatever that ritual they were all chanting.”

“A coup,” Gale says. He regards you a moment. Gives a nod. “Those was good instincts you had, Eleanor.”

Which isn’t a sentence you hear often. Maybe never.

“What are the shadow druids?” Shadowheart says.

“I’ve no idea. My scholarly pursuits did not veer into that field of study.”

The name sounds ominous. You look to Astarion, who stares back a moment before sighing and repeating the letter in full (the letter itself now in Gale’s hands).

“A power struggle,” you say after he’s done.

“So it would seem,” he says. And there’s something in the way he looks at you.

You pause a moment, thinking. You’ll need to poke around at the grove. See what the political landscape actually is. If too many know about Kahga’s intentions, your best bet might just be getting the tieflings out.

But.

Kahga and the douchecanoe she’s writing to have gone through a lot of trouble to hide this. Which you suspect means her support would be weak if others knew. If her faction is outnumbered, revealing her might just do the trick. At least remove her from the direct reins of power. Jam up her machinations and stall whatever’s going on. Give everyone some needed breathing room.

You need to head back. Do some scouting.

…everyone else is looking at you now, too—though Lae’zel appears to be trying to peel off you skin by glare alone (oh god, she’s going to wreck your shit if she gives you another workout, isn’t she).

“What?” you say.

“Your plan,” Astarion says. “Whatever devious scheme you’ve got flitting about in there.”

That…sounds like some kind of leadership thing. Which you aren’t. Because that would be a terrible idea. Everyone knows that. You can barely lead yourself out of bed every morning back home. You cannot be expected to do…whatever this shit is.

You open your mouth to explain that. Make them see how terrible that will be, both for them and for you. Only Gale interjects something. And you…do not understand a single word.

You look at him with horror sinking through your guts. Watch his lips move, his words rolling and strange, and no magical voiceover or translation pops into your head. You used your last potion last night because Astarion fucking could not resist chomping on your neck like it was a fucking ribeye in the middle of the night.

“Oh fuck me,” you say.

And none of them can make fun that phrase, because none of them speak English.