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lathalea · 10 months

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Wild Strawberries

Moodboard by @linasofia 😍

Fandom: The Hobbit Relationships: Thorin x f!OC Warnings: smut, pure smut, so help me Mahal Rating: E (18+)

Summary: Several years after Erebor is reclaimed, Thorin decides to celebrate his beloved wife's birthday... and is very enthusiastic about it. A/N: This story is a birthday gift for @legolasbadass from Linasofia and yours truly. Once again HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LB! 🎉🎁🎈

You can find this fic on AO3.

Khuzdul: Bunnelê - my treasure of treasures

Leaving the northmost spur of the Lonely Mountain behind him, Thorin entered the forest at its foot. The lush, dark emerald sea of pine trees surrounded him; each of them at least as tall as two grown Men—their rapid growth being the result of the magic the elves of the Woodland Realm bestowed upon this land in exchange for goods only Erebor could provide them with. It was a bright summer day and the sun speckled the undergrowth of the forest with gold, as if someone scattered countless coins across it. A small smile curved up Thorin’s lips at the recollection of that very profitable agreement with the Elves and the role his clever wife played in hammering it out a couple of years ago. Anila… Ah, his sweet Anila and her talent of finding useful information in ancient tomes and musty treaties. Then, her cunning negotiation tactics side-blinded the Sylvan negotiator, driving every single clause home. The precedent she found—dating five hundred years ago—was instrumental in cornering the Elves and making them agree to their conditions. There was nothing better than the taste of flawless victory… especially if followed by a private but intense celebration that took place in his marital bed.

Taking in a deep breath, Thorin allowed himself to close his eyes and feel the tension leave his body. Being the king of a prosperous Dwarvish kingdom was a great privilege, but also a sizable burden; one that could have felt almost unbearable at times—if not for the assistance of his royal consort. Thank Mahal for the ancient tradition that required the king to take a wife. At first, this was to be an arranged marriage but one day spent in Anila’s company when they met for the first time, a year after Erebor was reclaimed, was enough for Thorin to know this would be an union of both hearts and minds.

Today was a special day: his wife’s birthday. Thorin’s most trusted companions and aides were working deep in the mountain, at the shore of the underground lake, preparing the celebrations for the evening: there were hundreds of candles to be lit and put onto minuscule boats that would float on the lake; countless flowers to decorate the caverns; dozens of dishes to be served, music and dances to be planned, and many other surprise attractions to be planned. Thorin’s task was to divert Anila’s attention until it was time for the celebrations—and diverting his lovely wife’s attention happened to be one of his favourite pastimes.

And so he found himself on the forest path, with a full picnic basket in his hand, on his way to Anila’s favourite hideout. From time to time, she would disappear with a thick roll of parchments and a quill and then return hours later with a mysterious smile on her face and ink-stained fingers. Thorin would take her hand into his, place an ardent kiss over her knuckles and ask what she had been up to. The smile on her delicious lips would widen, she would hide that roll of parchments behind her back, rise up on her tiptoes, peck his cheek, and murmur into his ear, “It is a secret of the state, my king.” The sultry tones in her voice would make his blood sing in his veins—that was a clear invitation to flirt, and with Anila, that game two of them played often ended with their clothes scattered all around, and them panting, their bodies entangled, in the most unusual places of the Mountain.

That was his Anila, an incandescent mix of fire and tenderness.

Today, she mysteriously disappeared before he woke, and now he was finally on her trail. He took a few more steps ahead among the brambles, careful not to make any noise, when he saw a familiar silhouette sitting on a blanket. It was Anila; her back was turned towards him, but he would recognize the dress she wore, one of her favourites, and the silky waves of her beautiful hair everywhere, dark as smoky quartz, the braids that adorned it, and the marriage beads with the sigil of his house he offered her over the marriage anvil on the day of their wedding. Her hair was side-swept to the right, uncovering the column of her neck, and Thorin licked his lips at the sight, wanting to press them against that smooth skin and taste it.

Later, he scolded himself. He was on a mission, after all.

After slowly placing the basket on the ground, he soundlessly kneeled inches behind her. Whatever Anila was doing, she was clearly focused, so much so that she did not notice his approach. Only when his hands covered her eyes from behind, she squeaked in surprise.

“Guess who…” Thorin murmured straight into her ear, his voice low and sensual. He was very much aware of the effect his voice had on her and he was determined to make a good use of it today.

“Thorin…! You scared me!” she chuckled, looking anything but frightened. Anila turned her face back towards him, taking his hands into hers and lowering them onto her lap. He still held her in an embrace and did not plan to let her go.

“Have I?” He lifted his eyebrow in amusement, moving his lips closer to hers. “May I remedy it somehow?”

Anila blinked, her eyes glittering with mirth.

“That would depend on the remedy, my king,” she offered.

He brushed his lips oh-so-lightly against hers. They were as soft as he remembered, and she smelled like those blue flowers he never remembered the name of, so sweet and innocent, like the break of a new day. When she held her breath as their lips joined for a few heartbeats, a sign that he had her full attention, Thorin deepened the kiss with as much tenderness as he could muster, his hand delving into her cascading hair, until he felt her body pressing against him in anticipation for more. A large part of him wanted to continue, coaxed by her dizzying closeness and that little sigh she gave, but he needed to follow his plan. It was his wife’s birthday and this day needed to be perfect—just like her.

He moved back slightly, giving her cheek a slight caress with his fingertips and trying to ignore the wave of arousal he felt looking at her slightly swollen lips, like fresh raspberries, her shining eyes, and her heaving bosom. She wore a green dress, one of her favourites, that happened to be one of his favourite garments of hers as well due to a generously revealing neckline. Mahal, this plan of his was more difficult to carry out than he thought. He was supposed to be the one offering distraction, not the other way around.

“I brought the remedy with me, my queen,” he hummed, placing the heavy basket between them and sitting down beside it. It contained the best delicacies the royal kitchens had to offer.

“A lunch?” she peeked under the colourfully embroidered piece of cloth that covered the basket. “It smells lovely.”

“I cannot allow my wife to starve, can I?” Thorin replied, taking in the way she looked at that moment—with a playful smile and golden specks of sun kissing her face, one of them dancing at the tip of her nose. He wondered whether his plan of having a romantic midday meal with his wife would be ruined if he was to kiss that very spot now.

“You are a very attentive husband. Let us eat, then!” Anila decided, putting away a stack of parchments from her lap to the side. Her fingers were stained with ink.

“May I ask what you were working on?” Thorin said, taking out all kinds of food from the basket. Freshly baked bread, three kinds of cheese straight from Dale, white radishes, a jar of honey, hazelnuts and a bottle of good wine from his private cellar.

“You may,” Anila reached for the bread. “But I will not tell you. Not yet, at least. It is not yet finished.”

“So it is as I feared. You are writing a memoir of our scandalous marriage,” Thorin crunched on a radish with gusto.

He adored making her laugh and the way her laughter found its way to her eyes.

“I doubt Erebor is ready for such a read,” she uttered between giggles. “Besides, technically speaking, the events pertaining to our marriage are a state secret and therefore cannot be made public.”

“Perhaps it is for the best. I do not think I would be happy if our whole kingdom would know of my wife’s talents,” he cast her a meaningful glance. “I would rather keep to myself the things you can do with your… ouch!”

A piece of bread hit him right in the middle of his chest as Anila cleared her throat loudly.

“... brilliant mind. I meant your brilliant mind!” Thorin explained, trying to make his words sound as sincere as he could.

“Truly? Is that what you are thinking about at this very moment?” she teased.

“What else? I am still in awe about the way you handled those envoys from Minas Tirith,” Thorin hoped he looked like an embodiment of innocence at the moment.

“Oh? Remind me?” Anila tilted her head and gracefully licked her honey-covered fingers. It made Thorin swallow hard. That vixen. She knew very well what she was doing to him, but he was going to be strong and so he continued this charade.

“That expression of shock on their faces when they understood they would be discussing matters of state with a woman! And the realisation that you completely outwitted them!” Thorin could not help himself but chuckle at the memory.

“Ah yes, I seem to remember something along these lines,” she admitted, lazily taking another bite of bread and looking into his eyes. A drop of honey landed on her shapely bosom, making Thorin lick his lips as it glistened in the sun.

“And so you should, bunnelê. You used their greatest weakness against them marvellously. I will never understand why the People of Men underestimate their women so,” he reached out to take her hand and placed a kiss on it. Not over the knuckles, oh no, his lips found the centre of her palm and pressed against her skin. She smelled like flowers in bloom and tasted like honey. Despite the food they ate, his hunger was far from satiated.

“Cultural differences, my love,” Anila replied, cupping his bearded jaw before freeing her hand from his. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her fingers brushing against his beard. “One of our greatest assets when dealing with Men.”

“Exactly as I said, brilliant mind,” he gave her a playful smirk that coaxed a silvery burst of laughter from Anila.

This atmosphere—and their mutual teasing—reigned throughout the whole meal, accompanied by the twittering of the forest birds and gentle rustling of trees. You are a lucky Dwarf, thought Thorin, enjoying the feeling of content, laying on his side, his body weight resting on his elbow as he admired the sight in front of him. A beautiful day spent with a companion who is not only beautiful but also smart… to the point of putting your willpower to a test with her merciless teasing. And she happens to be your wife. Just look at her, the way the summer breeze plays with her hair, the way she takes a sip of wine, her sensual lips wrapping over the edge of her cup, or the way her fingers seem to dance in the air as she explains something about that newest decree on mining safety. And the way she speaks your name, with so much feeling and softness in her eyes. Is she not perfect? The true queen of your heart?

Thorin would never put these thoughts into words, of course. His wife would surely think him ridiculously mawkish and overly sentimental. The king of the Khazad of the Lonely Mountain should be anything but ridiculous. The best course of action was to keep such maudlin thoughts to himself.

“I think a dessert is in order,” he decided after a few more moments of his reverie.

“A dessert? I feel so full, I do not think I can eat even a bit more,” Anila sighed.

Thorin simply said, “Wild strawberries.”

“What?” she gasped.

He placed a small woven basket in front of her, its contents covered with peppermint leaves.

“How…? This forest is too young for wild strawberries…” she whispered to herself, removing the leaves and seeing small, oblong ruby-red shapes laid out in layers. “They smell delicious. It has to be magic!”

“Try one and see for yourself,” Thorin gave her a triumphant smile. Surprising his wife was something he never had enough of. Perhaps it was also partially because of the enthusiastic way she showed their gratitude, but even a king could be self-indulgent from time to time, he decided.

“A rider from the Woodland Realm brought them at the break of dawn,” he divulged his secret, admiring the way his wife put one of the berries into her mouth. She closed her eyes and hummed approvingly.

“You asked King Thranduil for a handful of the first wild strawberries of the season?” she then asked.

“Aye.”

“And he agreed?”

“Aye.”

“And sent a messenger to you in the middle of the night?”

“As you can see,” he pointed at the berries in front of them.

“Are you truly telling me you had a peaceful conversation with Thranduil during which you agreed on something? Without shouting and cursing each other’s ancestors five generations back? I think I will go with the ‘magic’ explanation,” Anila shook her head, but Thorin noticed the sparks of laughter in her eyes.

“I did not say there was no shouting involved,” he humoured her.

“If you say so,” she chuckled and took another berry. “Mmmm… They are very sweet. Have you tasted them yet?”

Thorin shook his head.

Without a word, she put the berry into his mouth and let him close his lips over her lingering fingers a moment before she retreated them.

“Very sweet indeed,” he admitted, still feeling her caress against his skin. “Just like you.”

Now it was his turn to take a berry and offer it to Anila. Her lips opened a bit and she gently took it between her lips, the tip of her tongue brushing against his fingertips. A wave of heat passed through him, a multitude of thoughts flooded his mind, but not a single one of them was mawkish.

Before he had a chance to react, she put another berry into his mouth and sealed it with hers. A low purr escaped him when their lips met, her kiss even sweeter than the fruit, and he tasted her to his heart’s content. There was tenderness and gentleness in that kiss, but the song of her supple lips dancing against his spoke of fire kindling inside her—and in his mind, Thorin agreed that it was time for another kind of distraction. He covered her cheeks with a myriad of feather-light kisses, whispering words of adoration into her ear as her fingers ran through his hair, caressing his scalp, eliciting a groan of pleasure out of him. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, revelling in the way she responded to him, their bodies pressed against each other, their lips on fire. Then his lips traced a smooth trail along the line of her jaw, and found the way to her neck. Each of his kisses aimed at claiming her skin, every single inch of it. She tilted her head back invitingly and he continued his explorations, his lips finding the sensitive spot below her ear, and then adorning that place at the juncture of her neck and shoulder with kisses, precisely the way she liked it. When she rewarded him with a moan, he felt her body tremble in anticipation. Thorin was still hungry, hungry for her, even hungrier than before, and he refused to restrict himself any longer. Not on a day like this.

He lay her on the blanket, her eyes shining, her cheeks slightly flushed, the round peaks of her breasts rising and falling, her hair scattered around her head, glowing in the sun like a halo or richly veined marble, and he found himself in need of stealing yet another kiss.

“Anila,” he murmured, “you are breathtaking.”

She did not reply—busy with stealing a kiss from him this time and wrapping her arms around his neck—while his hand travelled down until he felt that round, supple softness under his palm and the warmth that seeped through the thin fabric of her gown. He played with the idea of simply ripping her bodice—her whole gown—apart and feasting on her naked body until dusk and beyond… and then wrapping her in his cloak and smuggling her back into the mountain for a long and eventful bath, the birthday celebrations be damned, but this tempting plan had to wait. Instead, he gave her breast a gentle squeeze and proceeded to undo the front of her bodice while his lips slipped down her neck and found the sweet spot on her left breast that tasted like honey.

“The High Council…” Anila gasped as his tongue swirled over her skin and then his lips closed over the spot again. “That meeting tomorrow… They will be scandalized when they see that hickey, my love…”

“We both know they will not say a word about it,” he chuckled. “Just as it happened last month, remember?”

“I forget what a clever strategist you are. Yes, I remember, Master Finulv was speechless, Balin pretended not to notice anything, and you could barely keep awake during that council meeting. That high collar doublet suited you very well, by the way,” she admitted, helping herself to the buttons of his tunic.

“It was my attempt at covering the proof of my wife’s fiery temperament,” he smirked, observing Anila’s nimble fingers at work. “I do not think I was successful. Master Bragi did not dare to lift his gaze from his notes even once.”

His wife’s only response was a chuckle just before she covered his lips with hers.

Among the kisses and caresses generously bestowed upon each other, among their whispers and sighs, they eagerly shed most of their clothes. Thorin gave out a satisfied hum, admiring Anila’s sun-speckled skin, the alluring curves of her body glowing as if imbued with the light of thousands of Ereborean diamonds. He was certain there were words that could describe this vision of ethereal beauty before him, but he could not find any.

“My king seems to be lost in thoughts,” he heard her say playfully. “Allow me to help you.”

Anila lowered herself in front of him and her hands started roaming his body, releasing him from his trousers. Her kisses burning a bold path on his lower abdomen, and he found himself unable to take his eyes off her; of her nimble fingers wrapping around his already hardened manhood; of her hair like silk between his fingers, of her lovely lips that closed over his tip, of her sultry gaze, of the soft heat he was delving into, of her palm that…

“Anila… Mahal…” His wife knew him so well and she knew exactly what would please him, but today was not about him. “Allow me to take care of you first.”

“I was under the impression that you were in the mood for dessert,” she looked up at him innocently, licking her lips. Vixen. Merciless vixen. And he wanted more of her.

“Oh yes, I do,” he smiled, moving towards her.

“A dessert…” she gave out a chuckle when his lips greedily closed over her nipple, lavishing it with attention. Between the gentle nibbles and soft kisses scattered over her rosy peaks, among her sighs and his praising murmurs, his hands painted devout patterns along her body, in an act of physical worship. Thorin did not wish to stop; he craved to cover all off her body with his kisses, to bedeck it with his caresses, to offer his queen endless ecstasy. He wanted to offer her as much pleasure as he could and revel in her rapture. Soon she was stretched beneath him, pleading for more, her fingers entangled with his hair as his tongue drew spirals around her navel, his lips covered the softness of her lower belly, his hands caressed the roundness of her hips.

When his kisses finally moved to her thighs, and his hot breath skimmed the mound between them, Anila whispered, “Have mercy...”

“What do you wish for, my queen?” He lifted his gaze to her face, her eyes hooded with pleasure, her lips slightly parted, her breathing fast, her fingers playing with her nipple. What a beguiling view it was.

“I want you to please me, Thorin,” she whispered, parting her legs slightly. This was the only invitation he needed.

“Your word is my command,” he replied. Settling himself between her legs, he cupped her bottom, enjoying its round firmness. It fit perfectly in his large hands and he lifted her slightly. Anila moaned in delight when he eagerly buried his mouth between her thighs, his beard brushing against them. She writhed beneath him as he showered her most intimate places with kisses and caresses that brought her the most pleasure. His tongue explored the folds of her womanhood. The taste of her arousal made him even harder than before, made him dizzy with desire for her, but that had to wait. Now he was intent on pleasing her this way and so his lips found the most sensitive point on her body, tenderly tugging on the silky bud, and then started sucking on it. He heard her whimpers, her incoherent mewling spurring him on, and he continued his ministrations, pleasing his queen.

He gripped her thighs firmly when his tongue sank rhythmically into her, evoking waves of elation, one after another, each of them stronger than the previous one. Thorin recognized the signs all too well, and he drove her further and further, among the heights of pleasure, bringing her closer towards the very peak of ecstasy with every caress. Purring into her flesh, he caressed her swollen nub with his thumb, feeling how she arched against him as waves of pleasure sent tremors of ecstasy through her body, and he relentlessly kept on taking her even higher until her blissful moans and praises echoed through the forest. He stopped only after Anila went completely limp beneath him, one of her hands letting go of the fistful of the blanket.

Thorin moved up towards her, pressing his lips to her shoulder, and then brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. Her eyes were shut, her face flushed, her long eyelashes casting small shadows on her cheeks, beads of sweat covering her forehead. His caress caused a small smile to bloom on her lips, but her eyelids remained closed.

“Is my queen pleased?”

“A little bit…” she muttered, smiling still. “But I wouldn’t mind a second… no, that would be a third course.”

“Insatiable woman,” he whispered teasingly, kissing her collarbone. His fingers busied themselves in lining out the shapes of her breasts and unhurriedly following the curves of her ribs. Then his tongue joined in, exploring new, exciting paths on her body, each of them punctuated by her moan. Mahal was a great architect indeed, creating such wonders as this woman beside him. Compared with the elegant lines of her body, he felt like a block of unhewn stone; and yet when she lay so close against him, it felt as if they were made from the same piece of rock. Perhaps the Creator put all of his energy into making Thorin’s life companion perfect and decided it was enough. In fact, she was more than he could ever hope for. Absent-mindedly, he took Anila’s hand into his and placed a tender kiss onto her wrist.

Anila gave out a content sigh and opened her eyes, oblivious to his thoughts.

“Insatiable? It is because you have spoiled me rotten,” she stated. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, coaxing him closer to her, and when she closed the distance between their lips, he hummed approvingly. A new fire woke in her and there was hunger in her kiss, the same hunger that had been wreaking havoc through his body since the moment he saw her alone in this place. Her hip brushed against his erect member and he let out a low growl-like moan. Patience was not one of his virtues.

Anila found his hand and placed it over her breasts.

“Make love to me, Thorin,” the words were simple, but the timbre of her voice brought a much deeper meaning with them. And the desire in her eyes met with tenderness in her gaze.

“My queen,” he murmured, offering her an affectionate kiss, the softness of her lips giving him a promise he was eager to see fulfilled.

His kisses were careful, measured, and yet thorough, each of them aiming at telling her things he was unable to say with words. One of his hands caressed her body, eliciting sweet little sighs from her, until it found the secret trail that led his fingers to the treasure she hid between her legs. The moans that filled his ears in response to his feather-light caresses sounded like music.

“Is this to your liking, my queen?” he asked while his fingers explored her boldly, dancing in circles around all her sensitive spots and enticing even more moans from her. This, combined with feeling how aroused she still was, caused his manhood to throb even more in anticipation. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself.

“You know it is very much to my liking,” she admitted, bestowing a smile upon him. “But I need more.”

Thorin could not stop himself any longer. Taking his manhood in his hand, he growled with arousal, feeling her wetness against him. Anila tilted her hips, offering herself to him and he cast her a satisfied look, devouring her with his gaze. It was not long before he pressed his tip to the heat of her core. An unhurried thrust of his hips brought him home, his torments rewarded at last. He lowered himself over her and repeated the movement, studying her face as she bit her teeth into her lower lip.

“Yes, Thorin, more,” she whispered, taking deep breaths.

As he covered her body with his, Anila seemed so small under him, almost fragile, and yet she was perfect. He knew he needed to be gentle with her at first, and he did that gladly, anticipating the bliss that awaited them both. He could feel how snug she was around him, how an occasional tremble of pleasure came from deep within her as he carefully moved another inch forward.

As her body accommodated to his hardness, he gave another slow thrust, filling her completely. Her breath hitched and she welcomed him with a small cry of pleasure.

“My lovely, lovely Anila,” Thorin whispered, unmoving, his lips brushing against her forehead, his thumb running across her cheek. He knew his size was a challenge for her, but every single time she took him in with passionate eagerness that multiplied his arousal. “We fit so well together, do we not?”

“We do,” her melodic, dreamy voice reached him, her breath wafting against his sensitive earlobe. “I don’t think I will be able to let you go.”

With these teasing words, she wrapped her legs around him, lifting her hips slightly. That made him burrow himself even deeper into the dewy paradise of her womanhood.

“Then don’t,” he rasped out. “We can stay like this for as long as you like. Only say a word, my queen.”

“Then take all the time in the world with me,” she decided.

And so he did. With his movements slow and measured, his eyes remained on her face, revelling in the growing signs of ecstasy he noticed. Anila, his wife, his queen, deserved all he could give her—and more. Her first (or rather third) peak of ecstasy came soon, just after he changed the pace, murmuring seductive promises into her ear. Her lengthy moan rang out in the air as her body trembled with ecstasy. It took all of his resolve not to follow her over the edge at that very moment, but Thorin denied himself that pleasure. He was not finished with her, there was more he wanted to give. He paused, cradling her face in his hands, placing a tender kiss on her burning hot lips, waiting for her to recover, but Anila’s affectionate gaze once again rested on him as she asked for more.

Soon he found himself finding the perfect rhythm, sinking inside her for what seemed forever. As he drowned in Anila’s eyes, their moans intertwined, celebrating the union of their bodies. They were drifting away together on the sea of their shared passion. Every thrust was a promise of endless joy Thorin would offer her, every caress was imbued with his adoration, echoed by his whispers until they came together as one. She clung to him, responding to his every move, her nails sinking in his back, driving him forward, demanding more, and he gave it to her in a series of rapid thrusts, the waves of their bliss growing higher to finally wash over them in pure rapture.

***

“Happy birthday, sweet Anila,” he murmured as he rolled on his back, his arm wrapped around her, but she only hummed something incoherent in response and cuddled up closer to him under the clear blue sky above.

They remained in a sweet, languid embrace for an eternity—or perhaps minutes—Anila’s head resting on Thorin’s chest, her arm limp across his stomach, her hair scattered across his body, his nose full of her flowery scent. Their breaths evened out and the only sounds around them came from the birds in the trees and he found himself drifting off to sleep.

“Thorin…” Anila breathed into his skin after a longer while.

“Hmmm?” He opened one eye reluctantly.

“You are as wild as these berries,” she pointed towards the forgotten fruits, now scattered among the grass.

“Am I?” He hummed into her hair.

“I think I will have to personally thank King Thranduil for your fervour,” she replied with a smirk.

“Don’t you dare, wife… unless you’d like to be spanked,” Thorin protested.

She chuckled and he felt her hand travelling down his abdomen, “Is that a promise, my king?”

“Insatiable woman,” he managed to say before her lips stopped him from talking for a very long time. For perhaps all the time in the world.

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dungeon-strugglers · 2 years

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✨New item!✨ Antlers of the Deepwood Wondrous item, artifact (requires attunement)

These resplendent antlers gleam brilliantly with a golden light. To attune to the antlers, you must hold them to your head for 1 minute, upon which they will fuse to your skull. In order to remove the antlers the bearer must be dead. As an action you must attempt a contested Wisdom check with the spirit of the deceased bearer. The bearer makes this check with advantage, or it can choose to automatically fail. If you fail, you cannot attempt to remove the antlers again for 1 year. On a success, the antlers detach from the skull, revert to their dormant state, and the attunement ends.

As a bonus action, while attuned to the antlers, you can cause them to become incorporeal. While incorporeal, you still benefit from the antlers’ magical properties, but they are invisible and cannot be interacted with physically. They become corporeal if you fall unconscious or if you will them back with a bonus action.

The antlers only sport a single tine in their dormant state. As you grow in power, the antlers grow in size and gain additional tines.

Dormant. The antlers grant the following benefits in its dormant state:

You can speak, read, and write Sylvan.

You emanate an aura of serenity to the creatures of your domain. When a beast comes within 30 feet of you for the first time on a turn or starts its turn there, that creature must make a DC 13 Wisdom saving throw or be affected by the animal friendship spell.

You can use an action to cast one of the following spells from the antlers (save DC 13): animal messenger (4th level version), conjure animals (5th level version) or dominate beast (6th level version). Once a spell has been cast from the antlers, that spell can't be cast from them again until the next dawn.

You gain access to a demi-plane known as the Deepwood. This demi-plane spans 1 square mile populated by dense groves of trees, trickling streams and sunny meadows. Flitting throughout the realm are all manner of intelligent beasts and fey creatures. Within this demi-plane you are ruler and patron of all its inhabitants. You can converse with any plant, beast or fey creature here and they will treat you as their liege. You are provided all necessary sustenance in cornucopias of forest fruits, nuts, roots and leaf-cups of fresh spring water. A creature that completes a long rest in one of the many mossy burrows or sweet-grass meadows of the Deepwood removes 1 additional level of exhaustion. The denizens of the Deepwood can be hired for their services (martial, mercantile, artisanal, etc.) as you would pay for hirelings from a humanoid kingdom, but only the most loyal and trusted allies will follow you out of the realm. The heads of noble houses comprise your royal court and consult you on governance of the realm, as well as vie for influence and power of their own.

You can access this demi-plane by focusing on a Large or larger inanimate plant for 1 minute, upon which an arched doorway will appear. You can dismiss this doorway as a bonus action, otherwise it will disappear after 1 minute. The doorway is only visible to creatures you designate, to all others it is invisible. Within the Deepwood there are many doorways to fey realms and the material plane that emissaries and envoys use to traverse to the outside world. These portals are hidden with verdant forests as overly large rabbit holes, hollow logs or tree burls.

Awakened. When the antlers reach an awakened state, they gain the following properties:

The saving throw DC for the magical effects and spells cast from the antlers increases to 15.

As an action you can touch a willing Large or smaller beast to imbue it with the blessing of the Deepwood. The beast’s Intelligence score becomes 10, unless it was higher, and it gains the ability to speak, read and write Common and Sylvan. Its maximum hit points becomes 10 x your proficiency bonus, unless it was higher. This beast is friendly to you and your companions and it will obey any verbal commands that you issue to it. You can communicate telepathically with the beast as long as you are on the same plane of existence. Beasts with this blessing usually develop a fondness for walking on their hind legs, wearing clothes or armor and using weapons or implements designed for humanoids. The beast’s anatomy shifts slightly to enable this behavior (hooves or paws develop the ability to grasp, but wings do not, for example). It becomes proficient with all armor, shields, simple weapons, and martial weapons, 2 skills and 1 saving throw of your choice, and it uses your proficiency bonus instead of its own. A beast cannot fly while wearing medium or heavy armor. When you bestow your blessing, you can choose a specialization from the following archetypes:

Emissary. The Emissary has expertise in Stealth and Survival. You can perceive through the Emissary's senses as long as you are on the same plane of existence. While perceiving through the Emissary's senses, you benefit from any special senses possessed by that creature, and you are blinded and deafened to your own surroundings. The Emissary can dash as a bonus action.

Herald. The Herald’s Charisma score becomes 10, unless it was higher, and it has expertise in Performance and proficiency with 1 instrument of your choice. While the Herald is within 60 feet of you, you have advantage on death saving throws and Persuasion checks as long as the Herald is not incapacitated.

Knight. The Knight can attack twice, instead of once, when it takes the Attack action on its turn using a weapon made for humanoids (not its natural weapons). Once per turn, when the Knight hits a creature with an attack, it can add your proficiency bonus to one damage roll.

Only one beast can receive this blessing at a time, if you bless a new beast, the previous one reverts to normal.

The glory and splendor of the Deepwood grows with you. The area of the demi-plane now spans 10 square miles. Once every 7 days, you can command a grand jubilee to be thrown in your honor. All of the inhabitants of the Deepwood will gather to host a splendid party, with raucous dancing, music, games and flattery. A creature that revels in the jubilee for at least 1 hour gains the effects of the freedom of movement spell for the next 24 hours.

Exalted. When the antlers reach an exalted state, they gain the following properties:

The saving throw DC for the magical effects and spells cast from the antlers increases to 17.

Add dominate monster to the list of spells that can be cast from the antlers.

The radius of your aura of serenity increases to 60 feet. Allied beasts within this radius have resistance to nonmagical damage.

The many thickets of the Deepwood throng with activity and the halls of your forest domain have reached the pinnacle of magnificence. The area of the demi-plane now spans 100 square miles. Reveling in a jubilee grants advantage to Constitution saving throws for 24 hours in addition to the prior benefits.

Long ago, in a fey realm, there was a clan of creatures both bestial and beautiful that desired sovereignty away from the ruling courts of the land. Their leader, a majestic archfey with an unusually lawful disposition, known as Dildarion Deepwood, dreamed of a place that they could call their own. An isolated pocket in the planar mélange began to form, born of this dream, and it shaped itself to their wishes.

Taking notice of this plot, another archfey by the name of Hagatha Bossomblossom decided to play a trick on Dildarion. She offered to aid him with his ambition and hide the realm as a safeguard against intrusion. Secretly woven into her magic was a curse upon Dildarion, obscuring his land and his people from him forever. As they migrated to their new home, Dildarion tried to follow, but he only succeeded in getting terribly lost.

For many eons the people of the Deepwood awaited the arrival of their king, and over the years a splendid kingdom grew amongst the trees. The descendants of Dildarion’s disciples have long forgotten the true form of their liege, though they pass down the legend of a being with a crown of golden antlers that will lead them to greatness.

Rumor has it that Dildarion searched for a fortnight before succumbing to despair in some forgotten hollow. Wherever he may lay, atop his brow rests a fraction of his power and the key to the hidden realm of the Deepwood. Destroying the Antlers. The secret to destroying the antlers is known by the only remaining co-creator, Hagatha Bossomblossom. It is rumored that an archfey must claim the antlers for themself and will the Deepwood out of existence. As the demi-plane crumbles away to nothing, so shall the antlers. - 🖌🎨 Like our work? Consider supporting us on Patreon and gain access to the hi-resolution art for over 150 magic items, item cards and card packs, beautiful creature art and stat blocks and setting pdfs with narrative hooks and unique lore!🧙‍♂️

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

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thoughtspresso · 8 months

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Predictions for Oshi No Ko Ending

1. Anemone will be the one to find Katayose Yura's dead body.

In Japanese flower symbolism, Anemones or Windflowers represent death, bad luck, and forsaken love. And it just so happens we have a character named exactly that, who happens to be the only other character apart from Katayose Yura who loves being in the mountains.

Anemone will likely be climbing the same mountains on Yura's wishlist, and just like before, The Crow might lead Anemone to the dead body.

It's like Akasaka-sensei decided Spider Lilies are already too obvious a deathflag so he chose a different flower.

I'm taking the bet that Akane might be the person who figures out the connection between Yura and Kamiki, or Miki-san might simply show up on the news as a statement about his "dear friend Yura" who "disappeared".

Akane might also give the head's up to Aqua that she thinks Kamiki murdered Yura, and that would be a reason for the two to spend more time with each other again. (Might shove a wedge between Kana and Aqua again, if Aqua isn't already doing that himself lmao.) Either way, it'd be a convenient way for Akane to attempt to both "save" Aqua and also help him accomplish his goals without killing himself.

2. The person who texted Frill Shiranui is Miki-san.

Sylvanes made a fairly solid guess that Frill Shiranui works for Kamiki Productions. Whether or not he was necessarily correct on this, I'm making the bet that Yura's "best drinking buddy" Miki-san is connected to Frill professionally, and goaded Frill into pushing Ruby into the spotlight.

Some speculators say this might have been Aqua's ploy, but I I think this was incorrect. Aqua agreed with Kaburagi that money comes first and Frill was a more reasonable choice commercially. He even said that Gotanda should "grow up" and not choose Ruby just because of his artistic integrity.

Apart from the friendly, casual tone of the text message that really sounds like the "Miki-san" persona and the image of decanted whiskey as his profile picture, I think Kamiki is actually praying for Ruby's success as a star.

In fact, I think people misunderstood why he killed Katayose Yura. He didn't kill Yura because his serial killer MO was simply because he liked killing up and coming megastars who shone brightly. He killed Yura because:

(a) He hates Stars who lie, who sell a persona to their fans that is vastly different from who they are as people, which is why he hated Himekawa Airi and Hoshino Ai.

(b) He killed Yura because he knew that the project being offered to her was the lead role in The 15-Year Lie. And simply, he wanted Ruby to play Ai's role.

In a twisted way, I think Kamiki believes he is protecting his children, and the public in general, from being lied to any further by celebrities like Yura who deceive the public with their feigned innocence.

Honestly? I think the reason he killed their mothers was to protect them from growing up with mothers who lie and abuse their kids.

3. Kana might play Hoshino Ai in The 15-Year Lie.

Okay, okay, okay, okay. I know. I know. Unhinged fan theory. I get it.

Even AquaKana stans think this is majorly unlikely to happen. I agree in that, I think it's insane. But I keep coming back to what Aqua meant when he said that, "Kana is so easy to manipulate", and "It's more convenient for me to build a good relationship with Arima right now."

People tend to say, he's making silly convoluted excuses again, he just wants to spend more time with her. But I think a man who is resolute in his goal to off himself by proxy of martyrdom doesn't care to date the person he was protecting from a love scandal anyway.

There are a few key reasons why I think Aqua's "using" of Kana will result in her playing Ai's role.

First of all, I think Aqua's plan is to play Kamiki, to portray him in the worst possible way, and expose him as the murderer through the film. Through this, Aqua will bait his father into murdering him too, and thus Aqua's death can be used as legal grounds for charging Hikaru Kamiki with Homicide.

As established above, I think Aqua doesn't agree that Ruby is the best choice for Ai's role. There are a lot of parallelisms baked in between Kana and Ai. Apart from the shot-by-shot remake of Sign is B, Kana is also the best person to get stabbed and deliver the lines, "Some day I hoped the lies would become true. / I did my best. I worked hard. I lied with all my heart. / To me, lies are love. In my own way, I thought I was showing my love."

Besides, you saw anyone else say these same things?

Uhuh, you guessed it:

So is Kana gonna get stabbed? Hopefully in a movie, yeah.

I think it could happen as a result of Kaburagi's dissatisfaction with Ruby's performance.

Kaburagi's "finalized" casting isn't final-final yet, really. We can see that he swapped Aqua to play Kamiki instead of Himekawa who will now play Ryosuke the university student/stalker here:

Which makes sense! Aqua looks like his father, is closer to his age during the time of the events, and Taiki's age and height also better matches Ryosuke.

And even though the paper says finalized on Ruby's casting, Kaburagi's still not completely sold:

I think the swap will come as a result of Ruby being severely overworked and unable to keep up with the demands of her role, and the Dome performance that she might want to prioritize. She may even outright collapse from exhaustion, as foreshadowed by Kana:

Apart from Akasaka-sensei absolutely trolling us to death by Ai x Kamiki on-screen romance being portrayed by twins, then just outright pulling the plug on that for fun, I think it'd just make sense for Kaburagi to say it's better if we pair Aqua with Kana for this role.

Ruby doesn't even have to collapse or anything. She's so loved up with the idea of Gorou-sensei right now, Aqua could literally just tell her "this is what's best for the plan, you trust me, don't you?" And she would absolutely just go with it.

I said before that I think up until Mem-cho pointed it out, Aqua was wholly unaware that Kana had a crush on him and joined B-Komachi just because of him. I think now that he has the awareness, he'll ask Kana to do it, first to help Ruby, but also because he can only trust Kana to play this role because she is "Special" to him.

A repeat of:

It really is the only way that this scene therefore makes sense to me:

Bonus: if the Shima D masterpiece film doesn't draw Kamiki's attention to her, Kana playing the role of Ai definitely will. And if she delivers the role with so much honesty, it might change the trajectory of the story altogether.

4. Aqua's plan will backfire.

I explained a little above and in a previous post that Aqua misunderstands Kamiki's motives.

While we all like to shit on Aqua for being the World's Nicest Master Manipulator, we have to give him credit for the fact that when it's used for saving other people, he's been really effective at spinning a public narrative in his favor. Like in the cases of Akane's suicide attempt and Kana's Love Scandal.

If the goal is to get Kamiki to stab him in plain view of the public, villify his father, and make it easy to convict him for homicide once and for all, I think he will fail.

Kamiki will not kill him or go after him. In fact, I think Kamiki will shed his Miki-san persona and reveal the truth: he was Himekawa Airi's rape victim, and Hoshino Ai was a manipulative person who seduced him with the prospect of true love, then abandoned him when she got what she wanted, which was a family.

In the absence of any evidence that he had anything to do with their deaths, Kamiki might even use this momentum of propaganda to make the public believe that he's happy to finally be reunited with his children that these terrible mothers took away from him.

Heck, Taiki might hate Uehara so much that he'd be relieved to learn about Kamiki? And if he really is connected to Frill, and if Kindaichi still cares about him, there might be real people who would back him up.

Then, it won't be until Akane works with Aqua and everyone to bring the murder of Katayose Yura to light that Kamiki would actually be brought to justice.

#Bonus if you made it this far: Ruby will meet Marina Tendouji for sure #Now that Marina knows Ruby is Ai's child #Marina might encounter Ruby for drinks and talk to her about how her daughter was a huge fan of Ai-san #Then Ruby might ask what happened to your daughter #There will be two ways this will resolve #Either Marina says it absolutely broke me when she died I couldnt even bear to be with her or something #Or Marina will say something outright evil #Marina might say something like do you think my daughter forgave me #And if she does I really wish Ruby will say No I don't think she would #But at the same time I dont think she would even think of you negatively #She loved you and believed in you simply because you were her mom #In general I think this moment will be the emotional resolution of Ruby's arc #and it will be necessary for her to break away from Gorou #Oshi No Ko #Oshi No Ko Spoilers #Oshi No Ko Fan Theories #Hoshino Aqua #Hoshino Ruby #Hoshino Ai #Arima Kana #Himekawa Taiki #Hikaru Kamiki #Frill Shiranui #Yura Katayose #Kurokawa Akane

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paperanddice · 2 months

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Berstuc look like hulking, moss-haired humanoids, usually muscular but universally broad-shouldered and muscular. Their head is covered in moss, wrapping around in the appearance of hair, usually hanging down to almost its waist from both head and chin. Despite their great size and imposing looks, they have a serene, almost soothing presence, and are immediately loved by plants and animals. This is a cover for the fact that they are one of the most insidious and dangerous kinds of demons, stalking woodlands and jungles to lure victims to their deaths.

Often a berstuc will pose as a benevolent forest spirit, politely greeting travellers through the forest it has chosen to hunt and allowing itself to be persuaded into providing directions or even acting as a guide for them. It will suggest secret locations deep within the forest, or find rapid shortcuts through dangerous terrain, only to turn its victims around and get them hopelessly lost before betraying them. Some berstuc simply strike the instant they've led their prey deep enough, while others will disappear suddenly and stalk the now lost party with glee. Wildlife seem to bend to the berstuc's whim, attacking the outsiders at its direction and harrying foes while the false forest spirit prepares for its battle.

Inspired by the Tome of Beasts 1. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Pathfinder 2e

Berstuc (Plant Demon) Creature 11 Large, Demon, Fiend, Plant, Unholy Perception +19; darkvision Languages Abyssal, Common, Sylvan, telepathy 100 feet Skills Athletics +23, Deception +21, Stealth +15 (+21 in forests), Survival +25 Str +6, Dex +0, Con +5, Int +1, Wis +2, Cha +4 Twisted Path (divine) The berstuc always gains the benefits of Cover Tracks in natural surroundings, even when moving at full speed. Creatures that travel with the berstuc for 1 hour become lost; for 24 hours, the DC for such creatures to Sense Direction is the berstuc's Survival DC if that's higher than the normal DC. AC 31; Fort +24, Ref +18, Will +21; +1 status to all saves vs. magic HP 232; Immunities poison; Weaknesses cold iron 10, holy 10 False Presence Animals and plants with an Intelligence below -3 do not attack the berstuc unless attacked first or ordered to by Command an Animal. Attempts to Command an Animal to attack the berstuc use the berstuc's Will DC instead of the animal's. Forest Survival Vulnerability A berstuc revels in allowing natural environments to kill travelers. If the berstuc ends its turn within 60 feet of a creature under the effects of the show the way spell or similar magic, or a creature within 60 feet of it succeeds on a Sense Direction or Command an Animal check, the berstuc takes 10d6 mental damage. Speed 35 feet, burrow 20 feet Melee claw +23 (magical, reach 10 feet, unholy), Damage 2d10+12 slashing plus Grab Divine Innate Spells DC 29, attack +21 ; 6th animal allies, florishing flora; 5th dehydrate, dimension door; 4th dimension door (at will); 3rd putrefy food and drink (at will); 2nd entangle (at will), tree shape (at will); 1st lose the path (at will); cantrips (6th) scatter scree, timber Constant speak with animals Divine Rituals DC 29; Abyssal Pact Swallow Whole [1 action] Medium 2d8+8 bludgeoning, Rupture 28

13th Age

Berstuc Large 7th level blocker [demon] Initiative: +9 Floral Fist +12 vs. AC (2 attacks) - 22 damage and the berstuc can grab the target. When the berstuc starts its turn grabbing an enemy, it can make an absorb attack against that target as a standard action that turn. [Special Trigger] Absorb +16 vs. PD (includes +4 grab bonus) - 45 damage and the berstuc absorbs the target into its body (hard save ends, 16+). While absorbed, it takes 4d8 damage at the start of its turn and is stuck, hampered, and unable to attack or effect anything outside of the berstuc (and vice-versa). If an absorbed creature deals at least 25 damage to the berstuc on its turn, it gains a +10 bonus to its save to escape. Burrower. False Presence: Nature icons cannot provide any assistance against the berstuc, as it can disguise itself from their gaze perfectly. Resist Lightning 16+. AC 24 PD 23 MD 17 HP 172

#pathfinder 2e #13th age #homebrew #my homebrew #monster #fiend #demon #pathfinder level 11 #13th age level 7 #tome of beasts #long post

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dropsofnightshade · 2 months

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Recapping Chapters 86 - 90

Dani and Adele explain to Harry that the reason Astrid Feyling is such a big deal is because she is the only person currently at Durmstrang who is directly in line to inherit a Dark Alliance seat.

Kasia asks to meet with Harry, having seen him talking with Astrid at lunch. She warns him that Astrid collects people, and she doesn’t want to see Harry be used. Kasia speaks from personal experience; there was a time in first year when Astrid showed her similar interest, before something changed and she was cut out. Her cousin, Lucja, remains friends with Astrid — at least one of the reasons the cousins do not get along.

Harry has his catch up lesson with Professor Sylvan after school, and he learns the way he has been taught Occlumency by his grandfather is wrong. The teacher provides him with some pamphlets for tutors who might agree to teach him in Britain.

When Harry is signing up for the Mabon feast, Quidditch try outs, and Professor Abioye’s First Aid course later that evening, he runs into a sixth year Phoenix. The other boy introduces himself as Taras Nazarenko, and although his magical core seems normal, Harry gets the distinct impression of ritual magic from him.

Harry writes to Tom again, expressing to him his concern about the necromantic influence of the diary, given he has a roommate with a light magical core. He feels he needs to put the diary in the magical suppression container, but he wanted to tell Tom first, before he did so.

Tom explains to Harry that being in the container cut him off completely from the world, and Harry realises it was the cause of some distress or discomfort for Tom.

He is torn, however, Tom assures him that for Harry’s roommate to be impacted by necromantic influence, he must interact directly with the hypothetical item.

Harry questions why Tom did not tell him the full truth about necromantic influence, and Tom tells him that in his day, if a person demonstrated knowledge about necromancy beyond what you could find in an average book, that person disappeared. Until Harry learns to defend himself, and his mind, Tom will not be discussing necromancy further with him.

Harry is frustrated, but trusting what Tom has shared with him is true, he agrees to keep the diary in his school trunk and not the magical container.

Harry plans to meet with Ezra that weekend for a mediation session by the hörgr, although he is fairly certain that the strange reaction of his magic was due to his headaches, and his magic must be developing to react to illness and injury.

In his first World History class, Harry notices his magic reacts in the same way to his teacher, Professor Lis, as it did to his housemate, Taras.

During the class, Professor Lis tells the students about Ezra’s study into wandless spellcraft, and confirms ‘Subject A’ was the only child in the study to succeed in using wandless spellcraft. Harry notices Liam watching him closely, and although the other boy wants to talk with Harry after class, he avoids him to go meet Astrid in the library.

Astrid recommends certain books to Harry, and she tells him about the War of Princes. They get to know one another better, and discuss a Norwegian folktale about unicorns. In this part of the world, unicorns are viewed as harbingers of doom. Harry wonders what it means for Britain, that it has the largest population of unicorns in the world, and in particular, a large herd lives in the Forbidden Forest beside Hogwarts.

Harry is annoyed in the following couple of days as students react with surprise and scrutiny to his closeness to Astrid.

Dani speaks with him privately after class, explaining that those who hold seats on the Dark Alliance accept counsel from their family members, but each also has a select group of people who are not always related to them, who they accept advice from. The people Astrid chooses to surround herself with now, might one day be part of her inner circle of advisors. Dani likens getting her notice to getting a golden ticket to power and recognition.

Harry denies any intent to use Astrid in this way, even though Dani suggests Astrid might have the power and resources one day to lobby the British Ministry to improve laws around the Dark Arts.

As Harry and Dani finish talking, he notices the flash of something bright in the boughs of the oak tree they are standing under. He also feels a flicker of ritual magic, which quickly fades.

When Harry and Dani walk away, he could have sworn he heard a tinkling laugh.

Harry goes on a tour of the school with Léna and the first year Phoenixes, and during the tour he senses something strange from a corridor in the main school building. His first impression is that he is sensing something necromantic. He heads back to the corridor alone later with the Invisibility Cloak to investigate.

He finds a tapestry hiding the source of the strange magic he felt, but upon closer inspection it is not quite necromancy — Harry considers that it might be something adjacent.

Headmistress Vulchanova appears, unable to spot Harry under the Cloak, but knowing someone was present. She comments on the power of the Cloak.

Harry decides to reveal himself, and Headmistress Vulchanova seems to come to some sort of realisation when he appears.

She informs him that she can show him what is behind the tapestry, but only once. Harry agrees, and the headmistress gives the command for the tapestry to be raised. Carved into the wall behind the tapestry, is the same symbol Harry saw engraved on Ignotus Peverell’s grave.

The headmistress tells Harry that Grindelwald carved the symbol on the wall when he was a student. She shares her suspicion with Harry though that Harry does not know the symbol in connection to Grindelwald.

Harry confirms he has seen it before on a grave, and the headmistress states in return her guess that this grave long predates Grindelwald. When Harry does not respond, she proposes an exchange; she will tell Harry the true meaning of the symbol, and in return, he must answer one question truthfully.

Harry weighs up the pros and cons, before deciding it is too risky. Headmistress Vulchanova is pleased — Harry has passed some sort of test in his response.

Although she will not tell him the truth about the symbol, she does give him a clue; she asks him if he has ever read The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

With the clue provided, Harry heads to the library to check out the book. Later that night he asks Tom if he knows anything about the symbol, but Tom does not know anything other than it is Grindelwald’s symbol.

Harry meets Ezra early that weekend for a meditation session in the sacred grove. He learns as he meditates in the grove that not only can be feel the magic in this space — he can actually see it.

He is able to perceive his own magical core visually for the first time, noticing it has a dark centre but a golden edge around it. His magical awareness appears like threads of gold to him.

Harry notices strange black threads coming from his magical core and stretching out into the world far beyond what he can see. He does not understand their nature, and it unsettles him.

Harry catches up on letters from his friends, and they tell him Umbridge is as bad as they suspected she would be. The new DADA professor is Gilderoy Lockhart, who is useless.

Later that day when Harry is with his friends, he notices the strange ritual magic coming from one of the trees he is sitting under. He admits to Liam that he has been getting the impression of being watched around certain trees. Liam does not think Harry is crazy; the trees are very old, and it is unclear how sentient any of them have been from being surrounded by so much magical activity over the years.

Liam asks Harry about Ezra’s study, and Harry confirms he participated. Liam does not ask Harry directly if he was Subject A, but he does ask if Harry has any suspicions of who it might be, or if he knew anyone else in the study.

Harry is able to answer Liam without revealing anything.

The group watch the Saturday afternoon Quidditch try outs, and see Karl play. Harry spots the captain of the Ravens, Ylva Thorvald, and thinks she might have some goblin ancestry based on her stature.

Harry reads The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and when he reaches the final story, The Tale of the Three Brothers, he is struck by the possible connection between the story and his ancestor, Ignotus Peverell.

Harry theorises that Ignotus is the youngest brother in the story, and the cloak that is mentioned is the Invisibility Cloak that has been passed down through Harry’s family for generations.

He is also unsettled to remember the words on his parents’ grave - and old family saying, Sirius had claimed. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. Harry fears his bloodline might be marked in some way by death.

He contacts Sirius to share his thoughts, and Sirius is doubtful of there being a connection, but does recall The Tale of the Three Brothers was James’ favourite as a kid. Sirius concedes there are a lot of coincidences. He offers to check the Potter vault to see if there is a copy of the book there.

That night, Harry dreams of a cloaked figure standing at the end of a bridge. He does not recall the dream when he wakes in the morning.

Harry performs well in his Quidditch try out, and he is supported by his friends and Ezra in the stands.

After the try out, he meets with Ezra to meditate in the sacred grove again. There are other students meditating at that time of day, and Harry examines their magical cores. He discovers a fellow student with a dark magical core, which looks different to his own; there is no golden halo around the other dark magical core.

As Harry attempts to examine the dark threads coming from his magical core, he becomes aware that they carry a distinct similarity to the magic he had sensed from the symbol carved by Grindelwald on the school wall.

He and Ezra debrief afterwards, and Harry also tells him about the ritual magical he has sensed from some of the trees around the school. Ezra is unsure of the cause, and although they consider a few theories together, it remains a mystery.

It does lead to Harry thinking about the people his magic reacts to though, and he shares with Ezra what he has been sensing. Ezra theorises they are perhaps like Harry, capable of wandless spellcraft.

Harry does not think this is the case though. When he tells Ezra the two people he has sensed the ritual magic from lately have been a sixth year Phoenix and Professor Lis, Ezra is unable to hide his reaction.

He clearly knows something, but refuses to tell Harry anything due to some sort of professional obligation.

On Monday morning, Harry receives a first round offer to play Seeker for the Ravens. Ylva Thorvald asks to meet with him at lunchtime to discuss the offer further.

In between his morning classes, Harry is stopped by Oskar Braun, the captain of the Foxes. He offers Harry the position of starting Seeker — the reason there was no formal first round offer is because he technically offered it to Krum, who refused. But Harry is Oskar’s next pick. Harry agrees to consider the offer.

At lunch he meets with Ylva. He realises two things quickly as he shakes hands with her — she did not give him the same impression as Taras and Professor Lis. His magic took notice of her, even more so up close, but he did not get a strong sense of ritual magic from her.

The second thing he notices is that an examination of her magical core reveals a phenomenon he has observed in only two other people; Fleur and Dion. It was like there were two different types of magic in her.

Harry recognised the second type of magic in Ylva — it was what he felt being around goblins.

He speculates that this must mean Fleur and Dion had non-human heritage too.

Ylva discusses the team and training schedule with Harry, and then admits she was keen to talk with Harry for a reason other than discussing the Quidditch offer. She confirms she is half-goblin, and her mother is the goblin ambassador to the Danish wizarding government.

Ylva informs Harry he is quite the talk in the goblin diplomatic circles.

After their chat, Harry decides to accept the offer to play for the Ravens.

Later in the day, he is approached by Zsófia Vereb, the captain of the Bears. She knows her offer is not as good as Oskar’s and Ylva’s, but she offers him the reserve Seeker position for the Bears, with the goal of him being appointed starting Seeker in the following year.

Harry turns down her offer, and Oskar’s too later that afternoon. Both are disappointed but not entirely surprised.

Harry shares the good news with Sirius and Arcturus over the mirror that evening. When Harry tells them about Ylva, Arcturus points out her mother might well be involved with the negotiations between the goblin nation and the Danish research team developing the advanced Heritage Test.

They discuss the magical impressions Harry has been getting from Taras, Professor Lis, and now Ylva. Harry notes that Ylva feels different to Taras and Professor Lis, but does remind him of a couple of people he encountered at the DAYS gathering.

He confirms Ezra knows something, but cannot share it with Harry due to some professional expectation. Hearing that Arcturus states that they cannot rule of the possibility that Professor Lis and Taras might also have non-human heritage. This is because he can only imagine that if a teacher, for example, had some sort of creature heritage, that they would be required to inform the faculty about it.

Sirius confirms that he found a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard in the Potter vault at Gringotts. He nearly missed it, because it is written in ancient runes. It may well be a first edition, and Sirius suggests they hire an expert to look at it.

Meanwhile, Tom has had much to think about over the past few days.

It is revealed that although he did attack Harry that night in a panic of being put back in the magical container, that something impossible happened. Harry’s magic, seemingly seeing no difference between Harry and Tom, obeyed Tom, and put Harry to sleep to buy him time to work out a plan.

Tom found himself dragged involuntarily into Harry’s magical core.

Tom had wished strongly Harry wanted to return to Hogwarts, that he did not want to study Mind Arts, and that he did not want to put the diary back into the magical container. He felt like none of this would have happened if Harry had been at Hogwarts.

Without conscious action, his scattered thoughts and wishes had life breathed into them by Harry’s powerful magic. There was no difference between a thought and a spell in the heart of Harry’s magical core.

He obliviated Harry of the memory of Tom attacking, and with that done, he tried to work out how to extricate himself from Harry’s magical core. Tom was also curious and concerned why Harry’s magic responded to him as though he was Harry.

He was pulled in deeper, nearly losing his own sense of self in the process, and ended up in a space beyond Harry’s magical core.

There, Tom saw a piece of his own soul, woven into Harry’s being.

He realised with dawning horror that Harry was a Horcrux; his other self has inadvertently made him one that night in Godric’s Hollow.

Harry magic attempted to consume Tom then, trying to reunify him. Tom truly struggled in earnest then, and Harry’s magic reluctantly let him go.

The following day when Harry reported the migraine and his experiences from that day, Tom feared he had accidentally caused damage to Harry’s mind, and put him under again to survey what was happening.

He found three Compulsion Charms in Harry’s head, and was initially furious believing someone had attacked Harry. Then he worked out what the compulsions actually were and he was confused and wary; a compulsion to want to avoid the Mind Arts, a compulsion to want to return to Hogwarts, and a compulsion to leave the diary out of the magical suppression container.

These were all things Tom had desired but not actually acted on. The compulsions were crafted with Harry’s own magic, but touched by Tom’s guidance. Yet, he had not guided this magic.

Tom carefully released the compulsions, obliviated Harry once more, and then got out of his head. He resolved to avoid entering Harry’s mind or magical core again, to avoid something like this happening once more.

Harry has his first lesson with Professor Abioye the following week, and Viktor Krum is taking the same beginner’s course as him.

He also has his first Quidditch training session, and although he is excited to meet his teammates, he finds a chilly reception waiting for him from the reserves.

The reserve Seeker, Dominik Iločki, expresses a clear dislike of Harry. Karl intervenes when he arrives, and Harry learns from him and the other boy on the starting team, Luis Pichler, that Dominik has been the reserve for a year, and was expecting to get the starting position this year.

Harry speaks with Tom about the Parselmouth ability one night after school, and questions if the ability is truly limited to just speaking the language of snakes, and controlling them.

Tom is vague in his response, reminding Harry that there are certain things he cannot tell him, but that he can guide him to the answers. Tom also reminded Harry that to truly understand Slytherin’s legacy he needs to return to Hogwarts.

Later that week, Harry is in the library with Astrid, looking for books on blood magic that he could not find in Britain. He also goes searching for some books on magical creatures, hoping to research about the topic a bit more and see if he can work out what heritages Fleur and Dion might have, if his theory is correct about them.

Astrid has an interesting reaction to the books he has picked out, and she shares with him that although not as problematic as other books on the topic, they are not ideal. She encourages him to still read them to form his own opinion, but offers to write home to her parents to send over a book Harry won’t be able to find in the Durmstrang library.

It is written by a woman with mer heritage, whereas all the books in the library are written by witches and wizards with entirely human heritage.

Harry also learns the term ‘magical creature’ when applied to communities like centaurs, merpeople etc. is considered derogatory by some. He resolves to avoid using it in the future.

Harry receives a letter from Draco that weekend confirming he has been appointed the new Seeker for Slytherin. He also learns Lockhart was given a formal warning by the Board of Governors, but his classes are still mostly useless.

Harry meets up with Kasia for a duelling session. He manages to beat her, having taken to heart the advice and lessons he learnt from the DAYS gathering. Although he loses the next two duels, Kasia offers to meet up fortnightly to train together, and Harry happily agrees.

Meanwhile back in Britain, the Wizengamot meet to discuss the House Committee report on the public’s views of the proposed new bill to promote and improve werewolf rights.

In a week they will all be voting on the bill, but the purpose of this meeting is for the drafters of the bill, Gareth Greengrass, Amelia Bones, and Levi Selwyn-Burke, to address the concerns raised in the report.

Gareth promises they will be amending the bill, making concessions in the light of the public’s clear concerns. Amelia addresses the Wizengamot further on their proposal for a thirty day grace period, allowing individuals and families to register with the Ministry without facing criminal consequences for failing to previously register as a werewolf.

They are able to soften the mood in the room, and open up the floor to reasonable discussions around the bill.

#dark heritage #recap

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anneapocalypse · 11 months

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WIP Wednesday

@v-arbellanaris tagged me this week and @nirikeehan tagged me uhhh three weeks ago 😂 so thank you both! I've been on a writing hiatus but I'm working back up to it so here's a snippet.

Tagging @chocochipbiscuit @rosella-writes @delicatefade @ammoniteflesh @ziskandra @dreadfutures @inquisimer @ell-vellan @kiastirling @skyeventide @crackinglamb @ir0n-angel and anyone else who'd like to share!

~~~

"How… does this work, exactly?" Briala asked, with curiosity as well as some trepidation. They had retired early and arisen before dawn, eating quickly and packing up their things into the wagon for the journey. Lanaya's aravel was one of the larger ones Briala had seen, all painted wood with intricate carvings and designs. It appeared much too wide to pass through even much of the outskirts, never mind the dense forest into which they ventured. The back, which featured long covered benches that could function as seats or as beds, was entirely covered. The front was open to the air; a wooden frame allowed draperies to be hung over this part as well, but Lanaya had pulled them down so they could see all around them as they traveled. "I have heard about Dalish magic, but…"

"It's simple, really." Lanaya had taken the front seat in the wagon, with Briala and Talith seated behind her. "You've seen that the trees often move of their own accord. The forest lives and breathes, and as Keepers we learn its rhythms, until it moves for us as well."

"But the trees are possessed by spirits. Is that how…"

"We do not use spirits, no. Spirits have a will of their own, and can present a danger to us even if they do not intend to. Keepers study the natural world as well as the power of the Beyond, and the how the one can be reshaped by the other. It is the manipulation of primal forces, not possession or blood magic."

Gheyna and Cammen had finished hitching up the halla, now and they tossed their elegantly-horned heads, eager to get on the move. There were only three, which seemed insufficient to Briala; a carriage of this size in Val Royeaux would have been drawn by at least two large draft horses, and the halla were considerably smaller. Perhaps this too involved magic. Briala climbed into the open front, and Talith sat beside her. Still feeling a bit nervous, Briala welcomed the comfort of her wife's hand in hers. She wondered if Talith felt the same.

Lanaya stood before them at the head of the aravel, and spoke some words in Elvish to the halla. Briala could not make them out, but the creatures seemed to understand, quieting their restless movements and standing ready and attentive.

Gheyna and Cammen, having finished tending to the halla, stood aside, hand in hand, and Gheyna waved. "Dareth shiral, Keeper. Talith, Briala, dareth shiral. Sylaise ma ghilana vhenas."

Cammen added solemnly, "Dareth shiral, Talith. Elgar'nan ma ghilana, lasa mala enasalin."

At that, Talith's expression grew solemn as well. "Ma serannas, lethallen. Dareth shiral."

Briala recognized a few words. Dareth shiral, "Safe journey." Vhenas, enasalin. And the names of the elven gods. Gheyna had bid the Hearthkeeper guide them safely home. Cammen had wished them victory—in the name of Elgar’nan, the god of vengeance.

She was still unsure whether she believed in the elven gods—if she believed in any gods at all—but Briala sent up a silent prayer of her own anyway.

Lanaya raised her staff only slightly. Her back was to Briala and Talith as she began to weave the magic that would aid their journey, and Briala could see only a soft green glow emanating from the crystal set unto her wooden staff. With her off hand, she seemed to weave the magic into form; the glow grew before her, and then dispersed like a cloud, sinking low to the ground and seeming to disappear into the earth.

The halla moved, and the wagon with them, and where they ventured east into the trees… the trees parted.

They did not walk, as the angry sylvans had. Their roots did not tear from the ground, not did their branches take the form of reaching arms. They hardly seemed to move at all—Briala truly could not tell whether the trees were sliding aside, or the ground itself had swelled beneath them, forming a path between them.

Lanaya took a set on the bench in front of them, though it was clear she was maintaining the spell through concentration, and Briala kept quiet to avoid disturbing her, instead looking in wonder as the trees slipped past on either side. The halla picked up speed, and the aravel glided smoothly through the forest where it parted for them. Its movement was incredibly, impossibly smooth, smoother than a carriage over packed dirt.

She was awestruck. It was the closest thing to her childhood dreams of a magical elven paradise that she had ever experienced in real life. From in front of them came Lanaya's voice, gently amused. "What do you think, my friends?"

"I've never seen anything like this," Briala said, finding her voice. "I've never… in truth I had thought much of the legend of Dalish magic to be just that."

~~~

#ahsig #briala #talith tabris #briala x female tabris #fic snip #wip wednesday #dragon age fic

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wanderer-sylvan · 3 months

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Should I even be trying to send the other Sylvan back to his own world? That's the world he wants to destroy...

Whatever. His formula won't work, anyway. And this Sylvan only appeared after my Sylvan disappeared. There must be a correlation! I'm going to the Desert Resort.

#Sylvan Falls In A Hole

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aceouttatime · 1 year

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𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙶𝚊𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝙸 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚔; 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝙸’𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙼𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚛.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - Short-Lived contains no explicit NSFW content, however, there are many adult themes, so I strongly encourage readers to keep in mind that this was written for an 18+ audience. This work contains themes of alcohol use and abuse, drug abuse, depression, suicidal ideation, kidnapping, nonconsensual body modification, abuse of power, medical trauma, body dysphoria, body dysmorphia, graphic depictions of violence, murder, and LGBTQ+ discrimination. Please read at your own discretion.

Summary - Detective Sylvan Okeanoú is in for the ride of his life in this G/t murder mystery when his perspective is, unwillingly, shifted. In order to finally solve a year-long case of disappearances, get himself back to his previous standing, and preserve the lives of his loved ones, this cold-shouldered detective will need to learn to let himself rely on those who care for him. Oh, yes, and hopefully be held in gentle hands somewhere in the process.

Main Characters - Sylvan Okeanoú, Tamia Lovelace, (more to come)

Story Tag - #short lived gt

Character Tags - #oc: (first name)

Tag List - (Send me a DM or leave a comment on either this post or any of the chapter posts, and I can notify you when new content is released!)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

.01 The Humdrums and The Noteworthy

.02 Dinner With Archie

.03 (Coming Soon)

I’d like to thank both @belethlegwen and @bittykimmy13 for their gracious help and useful input in building up the world of Short-Lived. You two are some of the kindest people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, as well as inspirations to me as a novice writer. Thank you for your kindness, and happy writing, luvs!

I would also like to thank my dear friend, @exili99, for helping me flesh out some of the world and characters! You’ve been a huge help!

#short lived gt #short lived #work directory #chapter index #you want links? we've got em here #oc: sylvan #oc: tamia #oc: samuel #g/t #gt #g/t writing #gt writing #g/t author #g/t community

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deancasswitchbang · 1 year

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A Love Like Iron

Author: Ethereal_Xen (@etherealxen) Artist: Bees (@xiejie-liubo) Archive Warnings: Referenced non-con (past), Dub-con/Sex under the influence of magic Tags: Frotting, Anal sex, Hand Jobs, Fae Sex Magic, Cum as Lube, Hierarchical ownership magic (Not a/b/o), Not Fuck or Die but definitely adjacent, Dean's Afraid of Fairies, Case-fic, Canon-divergence - Avalon, come play, come eating

Summary: Men are going missing by the dozens and TFW are having no luck figuring out what it is until Dean and Cas see the first body being returned - But only Dean can see the person saying farewell to the corpse at her feet. In a panic of realisation he tries to get them to leave before things really get out of hand, or properly arm themselves to fight. But what will he do when he and Cas find themselves on the wrong end of an ambush and the angel at his side has disappeared? Preview: He had to get to Cas. The palace was quiet; the guards he had been so used to being at every turn nowhere to be seen. He trusted his feet to take him in the right direction on the smooth crystalline floor, letting his mind wander as he walked through the bright, colourful halls he made a mental note to ask Charlie about the Emerald City if she ever decided to come back from Oz. Oberon’s palace was formed in crystal of every colour and every shade and Dean could hardly imagine walking through a similar place so bland and colourless. “Crap…” He shook his head and mumbled under his breath, feeling the way the realm was already creeping into him and making him want to stay. To stop fighting the magic Oberon had placed inside him and simply return to his king. But Cas. He had to find Cas. ‘I bet his eyes are beautiful here,’ Dean stopped in his tracks as the thought hit him, and he hated himself a little more. That kind of thinking would lead him down a bad road and would land both himself and Cas as permanent residents. Shaking it off as best he could he continued down the halls until he reached his old chamber. Why his feet had taken him there he wasn’t sure, but there was a fae woman standing outside who merely opened the door and bowed him inside on his arrival. He didn’t like it. Where were the guards, the bloodshed? Why was he being waved through the chamber door as if he was almost royalty himself, not some runaway pet? He stepped inside regardless and looked around the room that had once been his own as Oberon’s favoured servant. Giant windows made of coloured glass shrouded the familiar room in muted colours from the moonlight outside. Everything was more-or-less how it had been when he left; walls made of dark wood and crystal and minimal shelving stacked with books and trinkets that Oberon had given him. The bed took up most of the room; its frame made of a similar dark wood to the walls, inlaid with sylvan metals in intricate designs. He found himself yearning to climb onto the bed where had spent so much time in bliss and pain, knowing just how comfortable it was and how perfectly it held his body. There was a problem though as he approached. The bed was already occupied, and the occupant took his breath away. Cas lay there, sprawled across the dark covers, stripped bare by the fae who had taken him and redressed. If you could call it that. Silver jewelry adorned him, engraved with blessings and spells. Thin and delicate sylvan head-dresses and ear cuffs. Necklaces and drapery down his chest, cuffs on his wrists and ankles and bangles around his thighs and biceps. He looked like a precious, treasured gift. The angel was panting and covered with a thin sheen of sweat, his eyes clenched shut as he struggled against the whims of his body.

POSTING BETWEEN APRIL 23rd AND MAY 6th, 2023!

#deancasswitchbang #dcsb #dcsb2023 #A Love Like Iron #Author: Ethereal_Xen #Artist: Bees

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technicolorfamiliar · 4 months

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Technicolor Familiar Watches Too Many Conrad Veidt Movies Part 4 of ?

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

The Wandering Jew, 1933 Dir. Maurice Elvey ⭐2.5/5 Watched Nov 30, Youtube Maybe it was my mood, maybe my expectations were too high, maybe it was the poor quality of the version I watched on Youtube, but I kept waiting for this movie to get better. It sort of did, eventually. The whole last act, especially Mathathias' powerful monologue during the courtroom/Inquisition scene, almost made up for the rest. I get what they were going for style-wise, but I think this kind of epic, mythical story could have benefited from some more grounded writing and performances. Either that or it should have gone harder in the other direction to be more impressionistic, more dreamlike. In the end I feel like it didn’t know what kind of movie it wanted to be.

Casablanca, 1942 Dir. Michael Curtiz ⭐4/5 Watched Dec 2, Max The balls they had to make this movie in 1942. I think the first time I saw this a few years ago I must not have been paying very close attention. This time around I definitely appreciated the whole thing a lot more. The cast, the production design, the lighting, the atmosphere are all pitch perfect. Why not 5 stars then? Maybe because I'm greedy and I want more. This is the only film on this list so far that I wouldn't mind being longer. I want to get to know all the supporting and side characters more. It's nice to see Connie with an ensemble of other excellent actors for a change. It really let him off the hook to be purely unlikeable and not have to carry the movie. As Strasser, he's ice cold with only the slightest trace of camp (which was much more pronounced in the previous year's All Through the Night). He played a lot of villains and unfortunately was typecast in these kinds of roles late in his career, but I think he finally got to showcase here his fervent contempt for the Nazis by playing this utterly icky guy with zero redeeming qualities. He understood the assignment.

Whistling in the Dark, 1941 Dir. S. Sylvan Simon ⭐2.75/5 Watched Dec 3, Archive.org This makes All Through the Night look like auteur cinema. But once again Connie sells it by being totally deadpan amongst all the slapstick tomfoolery. Love to see him with a bunch of underlings, especially at the beginning as they hatch their plan. It's clear he's having a lot of fun with his line delivery. Kind of wish there was more cult/con artist stuff for him to do, but the premise is enjoyable in an absurd way. I love the two ladies, Ann Rutherford and Virginia Grey; they sort of make up for how obnoxious Red Skeleton is. Most of the bits go on far too long though. My main take away from this movie is that I'll now be leaving every future interaction saying, "We part in radiant contentment."

Der Gang in die Nacht, 1921 Dir. F. W. Murnau ⭐2.5/5 Watched Dec 10, Archive.org It's been a minute since my last foray into silent Connie, so I wanted to watch Kreuzzug des Weibes which recently surfaced on Youtube only to have since mysteriously disappeared. Figures. So I watched this instead. A lot of these movies, silents and talkies, have rushed and disjointed endings and this is no exception. The restoration of the version on Archive is amazing, the quality is just beautiful. But I had a hard time connecting with this one, and I don't think it has anything to do with the expressionistic performances. I feel like they were maybe trying to say something about science vs art, while also throwing in messages about infidelity, etc. I don't know what I wanted, but this wasn't it. But I can't complain too much, Connie's romantic anguish is a thrill to watch. When he wakes up after recovering from surgery, his intensity is something else. It's crazy how palpable his performances are across so many years.

King of the Damned, 1935 Dir. Walter Forde ⭐3.5/5 Watched Dec 11, Archive.org This is only 3.5 because of the absolutely god awful quality of the version that's on Archive -- it's like someone did 18 shots of jäger, picked up a camcorder and recorded a bootleg of the movie on tv. It made me kind of seasick. Probably the worst copy of any of these movies I've seen so far. And that really sucks because I actually really liked the movie. It's surprisingly progressive in a way I wasn't expecting. The conversation it's trying to start about prison reform is still really relevant. And we get wet, sweaty, grimy shirtless Connie gently caressing other men in the jungle. I wish we had learned his name at the end, once the revolt was successful and the prisoners had control of the island, it would have been really satisfying for him to reclaim his identity again. But I also completely understand that it needed to not be about him, that he was committed to serving and advocating for the collective. Ugh, love it.

#my writing #conrad veidt #the wandering jew #casablanca #whistling in the dark #der gang in die nacht #king of the damned

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glacierruler · 1 year

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Corruption and it's Depth

Chapter 1:

CW's: CW’s: Death, transphobia, deadnaming implied, misgendering, homophobia, murder

Words: 2499

Before we get into the chapter, bold means the character is speaking in draconic, italics means the character is speaking in sylvan, underlined means that they are speaking in elvish, bold italics means the character is speaking in celestial, underlined italics means the character is speaking in dwarvish and this means the character is speaking in common

CW’s: transphobia, deadnaming(deadname isn’t said, but it is implied), murder, death, killing, attempted theft,

It is midday, around 12:13 pm in the month of Alcoranth, the third day. Jökull is out, hunting for the brubblefwig that he’d been looking for these past few days. A brubblefwig being a frog-like creature that can stand on two legs. Typically they stay in packs, but this one decided to be alone for some reason. That specific brubblefwig murdered three priests and an innocent child. He had looked into these claims, of course, he was diligent in his duties. Jökull spotted them, took an arrow out, and shot them with his crossbow, from 50 feet away. While the first shot doesn’t kill the creature, it does wound them. They tried to hide in the swampy area, but Jökull spotted them after a bit. Taking out another arrow, he hit and killed the brubblefwig. Going to collect his arrows, he takes out a crystal and turns it on. It is now 12:15.

It is midday, around 12:13 pm in the month of Alcoranth, the third day. Izosul has just finished their college lecture for the year. The way that the College of Lore does college is a bit weird. They do 3 lectures for the whole year, and then send the students on their yearly project. To collect gossip from a town, and write a song or a folktale about it. Izosul had chosen the town of Phontore, thinking it would be an easy town to work from. After all, small towns have the juiciest gossip. As they are walking to their carriage, that would take them to town, they don’t notice as someone sneaks up on them. However, they do notice as this creature tries to take their harp. Quickly pulling out their longsword, they point it at the creature. This creature is hooded, and Izosul can’t get a good look at them. “Halt fiend, don’t you do anything or this blade goes through your jugular vein.” Before Izosul can do anything, the creature disappears before their eyes. Thankfully their harp is still there. Glaring at the spot where the thief had been, Izosul slowly boards their carriage, to head to the town of Phontore. As they take out their crystal, they notice the time is now 12:15.

It is midday, 12:13 pm in the month of Alcoranth, the third day. Esmera is busy making a bow for a member of her guild. The member’s name being Lady Nobella, the guild being Ashkoroth. As she was minding her own business, she notices as three people come in, all of them being people who don’t accept her transition and 19-20 years old.

“[Redacted], you really went to the deep end huh, you should’ve just accepted that you are a guy.” The first one says, his name Azcoranth.

“Honestly, imagine thinking that you’re a girl.” Frathie, the second one, states.

“Freak.” The third one, Voriser, sneers at her.

“Get out of my shop, now.” Esmera growls out, glaring at all three of them, reaching for her crossbow. Frathie and Voriser see this, and run out of there. The smart decision.

“You think I’m scared of a monster like you.” As he goes to grab the bow she’d been working on all day, a pseudodragon pops out of nowhere, and starts growling. Azcoranth hesitates for a second, before trying to reach for the bow again. That’s when the pseudodragon lunges at him, he screams and runs out of the shop. In tears now, Esmera calls her pseudodragon to her.

“You did good Gerald, very good. Thank you.” The pseudodragon goes up to her and nuzzles her. She laughs a bit, feeling a bit better than when that interaction happened. “You know, if I’m going to be a noble one day, I need to stop crying and being afraid of so many things.” With that she pulls out her crystal, opens it up, and sees that it’s only 12:15.

It is around midday, in one of the colder times of year, and Vraefnael is walking around the woods, her home. As she surveys the land, she sees two creatures that walk on two legs, cutting down some of her trees in her home! Considering that that’s Vraefnael’s territory, she takes it as an act of aggression. She would not stand for this, so she cast a spell that has the plants move to get those two stuck, sneaking up behind them, before bringing out her thorn whip. However, as she goes to attack these two creatures, she accidentally trips herself with it. Brushing herself off, she gets up, walks closer to the two, who were now speaking gibberish. She understood one word that they said, “Help.” Well there would be no help for them. As she moves closer, she takes out her thornwhip again. Within one strike Vraefnael kills both of them, and their blood smells delicious. So naturally, she starts drinking it. When she’s done, she casts a spell that grows large mushrooms that feast on their bodies. After all those are her favorite plants, and she does draw her magical power from the mushroom crown on her head. Within a few minutes, one of her giant mushroom friends visits her, and they just end up hanging out for a while.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is now evening, around 7:00 pm, and Jökull just got back to his base, before he collapses. Three of his friends rush out to help him into his wheelchair, that he didn’t bring on his mission. All of them snow elves, about 90-95 years old, so about 18-19 years old, in human terms of course.

“Hey, don’t forget your wheelchair next time, you need that!” Ogleprolm, the first one, yells at him.

“Yeah, what happens if you collapse before you get to the base, or a safe spot? You could get killed!” The second one, Poignoreleum, says. The last one of them, Shagre, goes to grab the wheelchair. Carefully setting it up so that they could easily put Jökull in it. Making sure the foot pedals were locked in place, they all breathed a sigh of relief.

“Dude, don’t do that to us again!” Shagre looked really worried, and was clearly really upset by this.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve brought it with, I just wanted to do one mission without feeling useless without it.” Jökull felt really guilty. He hadn’t meant to make them all worried, especially Shagre. He had just wanted to feel normal for once, and it’s not like he needs the wheelchair all the time. Just some of the time, but he should’ve been responsible and brought it with. “I promise I won’t leave without it again.”

“You’d better keep that promise.” Shagre said still slightly upset about what had happened. Not wanting anything to happen to her friend. “Either way, the boss is looking for you.”

Jökull groans, having been exhausted from just getting back. “Already, but I just got back.”

“Yep, he sounded pretty impatient too. You might want to hurry, do you want one of us to push you up there?”

“No, I can get there myself, but thanks for offering Ogleprolm. I should get going now though.” With that Jökull rolled into the building and headed towards the ramp that led upstairs. It was pretty steep, but he’s moved up and down steeper with the wheelchair. As he made his way up, he was getting a bit nervous. What did the boss want to talk to him about? He’d just gotten back, did he do something wrong? Oh no, did he break one of his tenants? Which one did he break? He didn’t mean to. Feeling his chair lurch back a bit, he was thrown back into the real world. Right, he should pay more attention to what he’s doing. He could’ve fallen over if he wasn’t more careful. Breathing in and out, he rolled into the boss’s office. “You wanted to see me sir?”

“Yes, due to your recent efforts, I want to trust you with our biggest case yet. You are to find the Mycelium Menace. Here’s the information.” With that the boss hands Jökull a package containing what he assumed to be the information that he needed.

“Alright sir, just wondering, where do I need to head to, and when should I leave?”

“You leave today, Jökull, right after you leave my office. And you’re heading to the town of Phontore.”

“Alright sir.”

“You are dismissed.”

“Yes sir!” With that Jökull turns, puts the file on his lap, backs up slightly, and turns around his wheelchair.

“There is a carriage awaiting you at the back entrance, if it doesn’t have the right accommodations, just ring the bell at the bottom and I’ll call another one.”

“Yes sir, thank you!” Jökull says, and he starts to very slowly and carefully roll down the ramp. Once he gets downstairs he sees his three friends again.

“Yo, dude, what happened? You aren’t in trouble, are you?” Poignoreleum asks, all of them worried for their friend.

“No, I just got assigned the Mycelium Menace case. You know, whoever is killing those people in Phontore?”

“Oh really, that’s so cool, but stay safe.” Ogleprolm says, all of them now worry for a different reason. They had all heard rumors, none of them good. And if the case had reached their mountain, a 2 days trip away, that no one wants to travel to, it was certainly troubling.

“I will, I promise, now I have to go. Goodbye.” With that, he rolls to the carriage that awaits him and unlocks the foot pedals, ready to start getting into the carriage. Remembering to turn on the brakes, he moves the foot pedals, and stands up. Although a little wobbly, he folds the wheelchair, puts it in the back of the carriage and gets in. As the carriage starts traveling down the mountain side, Jökull takes a look through the information he’s been given. After reading, he sets everything down and looks at his crystal. It is now 8:45 pm.

It’s about 7:00 pm in the evening, and Izosul is going to the only bar in Phontore, the Undying Harpy. Knowing this is a small town, they grimace before waking in. ‘I will probably have to flirt with a girl for information… sometimes it would be nice to look more fem so that way I would only have to flirt with guys,’ they thought to themselves. Slightly upset at the prospect of having to flirt with a girl, but small towns can be dangerously judgemental. They had found that out the hard way. As they go to open the door, they look around and see an objectively pretty feminine like figure. Resisting the urge to gag at flirting with someone who’s probably a girl, they walk towards the person with confidence.

“Well hello there, I’m Izosul, what might your name be?” The person gives a small giggle before responding.

“Hello Izosul, I’m Samneria. Obviously the finest lady you’ve ever met.”

“Of course you are, why would you even need to specify, fair lady?” Izosul had gotten a bit used to flirting with women, so they were a natural at sounding like they wanted to. It however didn’t change the truth of the matter, that they’d rather be anywhere else but here. However if they wanted to get info on the town, they might as well start on the right side of these people. Izosul could correct how the town addressed them later. Especially if it was safe, or if they had a way to keep themself safe.

“Well I need to specify, because there’s this boy in town, who likes to pretend that he’s a girl. The only reason he hasn’t been run out of town is because he’s part of the guild Ashkoroth and brings in money.” So Izosul now knows that coming out is a bad idea.

“Of course, hey, I’ve got to leave for an important meeting, but here’s 1 gold, it should cover your next drink, fair lady.” With that, Izosul left, to go find the transwoman who probably faced a lot of hurt in this town. She could use a friend, and honestly it’s nice to not be alone in a town like this. As they make their way through the town, they find a shop that says, ‘protected by the guild of Ashkoroth.’ Thinking that this is at least a start to finding her, Izosul walks inside. Seeing the trans flag in the back of the shop, they knew they were in the right place. They watch as this more feminine figure walks towards them. “Hello, I’m Izosul, they/them.” The creature laughs a little, smiling.

“I’m Esmera, she/her. Although most like to use my deadname and dead pronouns.”

“Well that’s not nice, and to such a pretty lady as yourself.” Izosul says, sounding flirty on instinct. They grimace, hopefully she lets it pass.

“Are you flirting with me? No offense but I’m not interested in any of that.”

“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean for it to sound flirty, tis just a force of habit at this point. I’m not interested in women.” Izosul states, hoping they haven’t just ruined a friendship that they barely started.

“Ah, alright, just wanted to make sure that a relationship isn’t the reason you started flirting with me,” Esmera glances at them, “as I’m not interested in any gender.” Izosul nods, thinking of something that they can say to spend more time with her. After all she’s the first friend they’ve had that actually gets what they’re going through to a degree. Also they felt kind of lonely too, it would be nice to hangout with someone else while doing this college assignment.

“I have a proposal for you, what if I played my instruments here, and had a tip jar, and potentially get you more customers? I’d of course do it for free for my friend here, since I’m usually paid to play anywhere.” Esmera snickers a bit.

“Sure.”

With that, Izosul checks their crystal, it’s now 8:45 pm.

It is evening time, the sun is going down, and it’s getting colder. Vraefnael is laying in a tree, and making sounds that almost sound like singing, but there’s not a tune. The tree he’s laying on is swaying gently, and so is every other tree within his line of sight. He’s looking at the sky with a smile on his fanged and slightly bloody face. He’d wash it in the stream later. Feeling very content and full from his snack earlier, he reaches one hand out towards the sky. Vraefnael is using his other hand to mess with his crystal, which he took from the small civilization without anyone knowing. Just smiling and enjoying nature for hours on end. Eventually falling asleep, they take one last glance at the crystal, moving it in such a way that a small screen pops up. It has weird symbols that look like 8:45.

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roselyn-writing · 2 years

Text

When a rose turns black chapter 6

Hello people!, It’s been a while since i wrote a chapter this long! Anyway i hope you enjoy and stay tune for future updates! ;)

“A meeting before the calamity”

In a very large golden decorated hall, A man stood in the centre. He is meditating in a lotus position. He was interrupted by the coming of another person.

“Sire Aham.”A man with a thick British accent called, bowing respectfully to him.

“Yes, Sire Kilam?” The Man replied, While looking at him.

“Sire Aham it's the sorcerers again,” Kilam answered him. His face is expressionless.

“What of then, Sire Kilam?” Aham Asked, Facing the man.

“They are plotting something against us, It must be bad,” Kilam replied to Him.

“And what of Sire Russell?” Aham ponders at that. Aham quickly got up from the ground, he quickly fixes his clothes.

“He is on his way to Virginia,” Kilam answered him.

“Sire Aham!” Another man called.

“Yes, Sire Noah?” He muttered, looking at the man who called him.

“Sire Aham! King John III is coming.” Noah says, he took a moment to breathe.

“Really? How far along is he from Virginia?” Aham asks. Thinking of the two tasks at hand Right now.

“Two days from here” Noah replied, feeling a bit tensed because of the news. Of the new proclaimed King.

“Sire Kilam Please inform the King to prepare a proper welcoming to the “King”,” Aham responded, then he looks to Noah. ”and Sire Noah come with me to discuss the matter of the sorcerers” Sire Aham suggested

“Yes, Sire Aham” Kilam uttered then left to do his task, while Noah Goes with Aham to Discuss the matter. And what to do.

“So.. any suggestions?” Russell says, looking at all the superiors in the meeting hall.

“The sorcerers are looking for a way to take the cursed book. There is a suggestion, Sire Russell.” Mervyn Uttered while clenching his hands together upon the table.

“And what is it, Sire Mervyn?” Malcolm Says.

“Easy. Guard the halls with Guards, No not just any Guards. But Guards with anti-magic armors.” Mervyn replied.

“That is a good idea, But Sire Mervyn we do not have the time to craft anti-magic armor.” Sire Aham uttered.

“There is. The Sylvans. The Guardians of the forest.” Russell suggests

“I do not think that the Sylvans have the time to face mortals' problems.” Sire Aham added while crossing his arms.

“Then what about Orm?” Wilbur replied,” Orm? Orm the great forger?” Norman repeated

“Yes Orm the Great forger” Sire Aham replied

“I will ask Sire Orm, I know that he will not refuse us,” Millard suggests

“He will not refuse us, He must not!” Russell growled Anger defined in his tone

“Calm down Sire Russell anger is useless.” Sire Aham told him.” I pray the remained one to guide us to a solution, I know that the great remained one will not forsake us” Aham added

“Praise the remained one.” All in the hall said in union.

“Blasted, Those sorcerers. Nothing good comes from them” Russell Cursed, as he angrily slammed his hand on the table.

In a place that reeks of foul deeds and stenches alike. A demon smiles in pure happiness and mockery at the Sorcerers and mages.

“Ah!, That is Interesting, I hope their plans are thwarted.” Raquol sneered at the sorcerers. Raquol hated them to the bone. If there is anything Raquol hates other than Lucifer. It's the sorcerers and those lowly humans who beg the demons for help.

“I hate them so much, I wish that they disappear from the face of the universe” Raquol growls.

“But alas. They are Lucifer's favourite pets.” Raquol muttered in annoyance.”But soon, I’ll plot my revenge against Lucifer and those sorcerers” He promised. Raquol realized that he needs time to do so.

“But certainly not today,” He uttered, annoyed

Donovan is a great sorcerer, His birth alone is something to be explained. He is a hybrid between a Human and a Hudaronic, He is also a great huge beast that resembles a triceratops head and size. He is known as the “Master of evil”. He is the enemy to a lot of people mostly the Royal monarchs of Morbidia, And also to sorcerers.

He once cursed the Queen of Morbidia with a sleeping curse. But she woke up because of King William's kiss of “true love”. After the Queen found out about this she paid a female assassin to kill him. The female assassin managed to let Donovan fall in love with her. She tried to slit his throat but he managed to survive by turning into an hudranoic beast called “Antaris” then he ate her for dinner.

The news quickly reported to the Queen about the female assassin's death and the whole mission is but a failure she paid with her life. The Queen is burning with anger and hatred for Donovan. This unearthly beast and mongrel. She fears for herself, Her daughter, and her husband. The last thing she fears for is her people. She doesn’t care about them at all even if Donovan ate them or cursed them.

Donovan on the other hand promised himself to never be fooled by humans or fall in love with them. He had learnt the hard way That trust is earned not given easily. His hudranoic nature saved him from certain death.He’s thankful for it, He concluded that life is full of experience. And he must live it all.

Nothing can describe how awful a disgusting feeling is for the likes of Ashure. He doesn’t care about wasting lives and efforts. The only thing he cares about is his goal to be achieved. And that’s all he cares about it.

“I don’t care about the loss of children, on the contrary, I hate them.” Ashure cruelly confessed

Sadly there are many sorcerers, mages, and also normal people like Ashure. Cruelty is in their veins.

It’s safe to say that there are two types of people one’s that good and one’s that bad.

It's like two sides To one world.

“I don’t care about people's feelings, I killed my father and I didn’t care about it, Why would I care for people?” Ashure cruelly added.

And Cruelty is one of the main reasons for his demise.

“It's time,” An eerie voice spoke to him,” It is Indeed”

It’s one of these normal and lovely days for the Aepel family. It’s also a morning lovely day to wake up and do the daily routine.

Hadi Aepel wakes up to eat breakfast and do his daily routine stuff.

“Good morning honey!” Farrah greets him

“Morning beautiful~” he greets back

“I heard that Nora is giving birth today. I will go to her after I make breakfast!” she said. She finished the breakfast and then put it on the table. She and Hadi sat on the seats to eat.

“Oh, Honey that’s so kind of you to take care of her” Hadi muttered, after taking a spoonful of food into his mouth.,

“Is there anything you want? My dear husband” she uttered. Smiling to him. as she lovingly side-hugging him.

“No honey I don’t want anything I just wanted you to be safe. Be careful honey.” Hadi says.

“Okay then. I will be careful, Dear husband” Farrah replied, smiling at him

After that, Massoud knocks on the door. He completely startled them.

“Dear brother, what’s wrong?” Hadi asked, startled because of his brother’s sudden knocks.

“No, No nothing is wrong!” He apologized by raising his hands while giggling at their reaction.

“So what is it, Why did you come Massoud?” He asked his brother

“Mister Peitz and Mister Salem ask if you’re coming today for the work, You know,” Massoud replied.

“Oh, Of course, I'm coming to work today,” Hadi uttered back.

“Okay then! I will inform them that you’re coming!” Massoud muttered but before he left

“I can’t go with you brother, My wife is giving birth today.” He apologized.

“No worries at all brother,” Hadi said to him.

After Hadi finished eating breakfast, He left to work. And Farrah goes to Baby Aliyaa to feed her then she hands her to her Grandmother Salwa.

Farrah gently and carefully carries Aliyaa, Aliyaa is still sleeping peacefully on the cot bed. Farrah didn’t want to wake her up so she hastily and gently carries her on her shoulder.

Salwa is waiting patiently for Farrah to come with baby Aliyaa, Moments pass by and she comes with Aliyaa, She gently handed Aliyaa to her grandmother,

“Did you feed her Farrah?” Salwa questioned, as she gently carries Aliyaa.

“No, But I brought the milk bottle with me!” Farrah responded, As she left to fetch the bottle

“Good, Please hurry, my dear,” Salwa murmured.

“Okay!” Farrah replied. while fetching the bottle

Back to the superior’s hall. Every known superior

in Virginia is there.

“So. Is there something from Sire Ormm?” Sire Aham Spoke.

“Not yet,” Millard declared,

“I say we fight back! We will fight them to the bone! We are superiors we do not cower from mere sorcerers!” Sire Russell snapped, As he clutched the fiery swords,” I do not care I have a family to protect and care for!” He angrily Raised his swords, Upon Clutching the swords the holy fire engulfed him, Changing his citizen clothing to his Light one’s armor.

“We are the superiors! We do not run from danger, We fight it to the bone!” Sire Russell added, as his white wings spread out of his shoulders. The other superiors were moved by this and they all joined him.

Sire Aham calmly crosses his arms, as he carefully observes the scene in front of him.

He knows that it's foolish to take action unprepared. But there is nothing to do now as most of the superiors are swayed to Russell's side.

“Sire Russell, Please do not take action unprepared. It’s unwise!” Sire Aham cautioned.

“Sire Aham, You know that we are much stronger than them, Then why waste time making plans?” Russell maintained his anger.

“It's important to observe everything before reacting.” Sire Aham calmly retorts

Russell didn’t reply, In fact, He knows that sire Aham is right, and He is always right, So Russell took only a moment to breathe and clears his mind of negativity and anger.

It’s time. To react before the calamity,”

@lorabeyc @loryeenb @loryeen @mollyb9 @florafoom @alexapenz @lisadelise @kyd35 @melissalix @noelle9 @monapome @huepazu

#wartb #Aliyaa Aepel #Sire Aham #Kilam Bornev #Russell Tyrien #Millard of Virginia #Wilbur #Norman #Hadi Aepel #Farrah Aepel #Salma Aepel #Massoud Aepel #Donovan Master of evil #Donovan R’aush #Ashure ro’bey #wartb season 1 #King John III #King of Virginia #when a rose turns black

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