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azukiel · 5 months

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Nightfall Heir Chapter 2

🔞 MDNI 🔞 NSFW

Warnings (as a whole): Explicit sexual content, Graphic descriptions of violence, PTSD, Angst, Blood kink, Pregnancy and Childbirth

⭐Here is the story on Archive of Our Own ⭐

🔥Comments and reblogs are much appreciated! 🔥

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Two years…

How had time flown so fast? The city, still in the process of rebuilding from the rubble it had been reduced to, presented a scene of bustling activity. Mariners and dock workers of the city had finally cleared the bay of the decaying remains of the Netherbrain, much to the disdain of the local ocean life. Local sorcerers, including yourself, and wizards under Gale’s guidance prevented the putrid stench from overwhelming the populace. For those two long years, you had all been so vigilant in bringing the city back to some form of its former glory. It was an arduous task, for sure, but gradually your lives were returning to an acceptable level of normal.

Your cordial wizard companion Gale, now the patron of the Sorcerous Sundries, had a newfound air of confidence surrounding him since his release from Mystra. His demeanour at the store had transformed into a commanding presence as he worked with you to bridge the gap between sorcerers and wizards.

Shadowheart, or Jenevelle as you had all learnt was her true name, had taken on the role of a caretaker for her ailing parents. The weight of responsibility showed in the lines etched on her face, but there was also a sense of purpose and strength that radiated from her. Her once guarded nature had softened, replaced by a fierce protectiveness for her family and a deep gratitude for the companions who had helped rescue them from the clutches of the goddess and Justiciars she had abandoned.

Wyll had inherited the title of Grand Duke of the city from his father, which was much to be expected. His charismatic leadership had garnered the respect of the Council of Four, and together, they ruled over the metropolis with fairness and efficiency. The weight of his new role was often visible in his tired eyes, but there was also a sense of accomplishment and pride that shone through them.

Your boisterous friend Karlach, now coupled with the Tyfling blacksmith Dammon, had undergone a remarkable transformation as well. Not only could she now touch people without scorching them, Dammon, and the Grymforge dwarves in the city, had discovered a way to implant the heart of a Steel Watch within her. Their tinkering had not only saved her from the clutches of Avernus and imminent death, but had also granted her a new lease on life. Though Wyll did not particularly need one, Karlach also worked as his bodyguard when he was on official duties. In her own words, she had aspired to be useful and thus did not give Wyll a choice on the matter. Not that he minded. When she was not following Wyll around like his shadow, she was helping her new lover with collecting materials for the new metal works he was head of rebuilding - and relishing in her new freedom of touch.

Lae’zel, still an outcast of her people, found solace in aiding Wyll with training the Flaming Fists. Her imposing presence and unwavering determination made her a formidable force within the barracks. Nobody disobeyed her orders. Ever. Though the scars of her past still lingered, there was a newfound purpose in her gaze, a determination to prove her worth and find her place in this new world you were all helping to build.

Your arch druid ‘teddy bear’ Halsin, had dedicated himself to restoring Baldur’s Gate’s nature, and was bringing back life to the city’s parks, reserves, and waterways. He did not much enjoy life in the city, as was to be expected, and so he frequently visited the Emerald Grove to regain his energies.

Lastly, your beloved Astarion had been given the esteemed position of the city’s chief magistrate. Having recognised Asterion’s extensive knowledge and experience in matters of governance, Wyll had extended him the offer. With the lack of qualified candidates in the city, Wyll had pleaded with Astarion to accept the role. Astarion had begrudgingly done so, and now carried himself with an undeniable aura of authority within the hallowed halls of justice. He may have been two hundred year out of practice, but the role flooded back to him like the waters of a dam breaching. Despite putting in his best efforts, a weariness still lingered in his gaze, a silent testament to the sacrifices he had made for the greater good. However, amidst that weariness, a newfound glimmer of purpose shone through, intertwining with a sense of duty and hope that replaced his once self-centred nature. And, in those moments of fatigue, he reminded you that he would remain by your side, unwavering, through the trials that lay ahead.

Smiling at this thought, you rested your palm on his chest. You watched it rise and fall with his every breath, yet lamented that you would never hear the beating of his heart. It was only when Astarion mumbled and shifted himself that you realised you had been weeping. Your tears had smeared across your cheek when he moved.

“D-darling,” he murmured, his voice heavy with sleep, yet tinged with concern. He roused himself from his slumber whilst the room remained shrouded in the soft, dim glow of the moon. He shifted his body, his movements languid, so that he could meet your tired gaze. But as his searching met your sullen face, you averted your eyes, the weight of your emotions weighing upon you. A single tear trickled down your cheek, glistening like a diamond in the pale moonlight that shone through your balcony window. Gently, he cupped your chin, his thumb grazing the delicate curve of your skin, coaxing your gaze back to his. With tender care, he wiped away your tears, his touch warm and comforting. It had been countless nights since the darkness of a past vision had plagued you, yet Astarion’s memory remained steadfast, recalling each instance he had provided solace during those trying times.

“Another nightmare?”

You gave a timid shake of your head, your vulnerability exposed. “No, not exactly,” you responded, your words barely a whisper in the tranquillity of the room.

“Do you wish to talk about what troubles you, my sweet?” he offered softly, his voice carrying a gentle melody that soothed your troubled heart. His fingers caressed your cheek with such tenderness, a warmth spread through your skin, offering comfort in his touch.

“No, I am alright. You needn’t worry about me, my love,” you reassured him, your voice offering a return of his love.

A sigh escaped Astarion’s lips as he leaned back, his eyes studying your face with a mix of concern and affection. “Tavrin, sweetheart, you know dreadfully well that I always fret about you.”

Unable to contain it, a soft chuckle escaped your lips. “I know,” you replied, your gaze meeting his deep red orbs, their intensity drawing you in. A smile, brimming with adoration, curved your lips. “But I am fine. I was just recalling all the trials and tribulations we have endured, and all the solace and tranquilities that have been entwined. Particularly us, where tranquillity is concerned.”

“Is that so?” He asked after a moment, bringing you in by the waist to plant a feathery kiss upon your lips. “Did any particular memory take precedence?” His query, though one of interest, was rather provocative in nature. You could not help but blush at his silky tone. From the heat which flushed your cheeks, he knew your thoughts had delved into something wanton.

You shivered as his delectable touch smoothed along your collarbone.

“The graveyard,” you mumbled coyly, “when you had shown me your grave.”

“Oh?” As his brows raised in genuine surprise, his eyes sparkled with curiosity. “And why, exactly, did you recall that?”

You raised your chin, refusing to allow his flirtations to get the better of you. “Because it is when you confessed your undying love for me,” you answered with a playful air of defiance.

Grinning, it was his cheeks that now tinged with a blush. “Well, I had meant everything I had said - and done - that night, darling.”

You felt yourself tingle from his honest proclamation.

“I’m sure you did.”

“Do you not believe me?” He made a flamboyant gesture of feigned hurt.

“Of course I do,” you responded without hesitation, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose in an offer of reassurance.

Letting out a soft scoff, Astarion lazily reclined against the plush maroon velvet goose-feather pillows positioned behind your heads. The rich fabric felt luxurious against his pale, bare skin. As he settled, he gently pulled you down with him, drawing you into another intimate embrace. Having fed from you before you had both turned in for the night, his body exuded a warmth which enveloped you, his touch sending a delectable tingle through the junction between your thighs.

In the hushed atmosphere, a moment of quiet pause hung in the air. Astarion broke the silence, his voice low and enticing. “Well,” he began, his tone laced with a hint of mischief, “I’m more than willing to prove it to you again if I must.”

His uncanny hearing caught the soft, almost indistinguishable moan of arousal that escaped your mouth. A corner of his thin lips curved into a salacious grin then, as his crimson gaze locked onto you, intense and penetrating. He let out a low hum, his breath warm against your cheek, and lightly teased one of your now sensitive buds with the feather-light brush of his fingertips.

“Tell me what it is you wish for, my love, and I will make it so.”

“Astarion…” a moan escaped your breathless lips. He did not need an answer. He could read your needs like an open book. Taking you by your forearms, he pulled you to be flush against his body, your back pressed against his chest. Nuzzling the side of your bared neck with his mouth, he discerns your jugular with the tips of his fangs, daring not to pierce your skin. His nimble fingers smooth over your dark skin,

Your breath hitched as you felt his hand reach your sex. With a delicate touch, he caressed the inside of your thighs, his fingers teasing the soft and sensitive skin. Your core ached with desire, a yearning to be filled by him.

A low growl escaped his lips as he slipped his fingers between your folds. A delectable slick wetness enveloped them as he entered you, your walls clenching around him. With the skill and finesse of a practised lover, he teased you, eliciting a deep, drawn moan. Your hips rolled against his hand, desperate for friction, desperate to feel him.

You felt his tongue, smooth and velvety, graze along your shoulder, his kisses soft and gentle.

Pleasure washed over you, coursing through every fibre of your being, mingling with the heat of lust and desire.

Astarion knew what he did to you, and he did not relent. His fingers slid in and out, his rhythmic motions a tantalising torment. He tortured your clit as well, and masterfully caressed the exact spot that caused you to squirm and moan.

Your heart raced as his mouth brushed against your neck, his lips hovering above your skin, teasing you. Your blood pulsated through your groin, and a fire burned like the pits of Avernus between your thighs.

Your breaths became shallow as the heat built up, your muscles clenching in anticipation. You wanted to feel him deep inside of you, riding you like a wild beast.

Just as you were about to beg, his fingers withdrew. You cried out with disappointment.

You turned to face him, a frown marring your features, a whine of protest upon your lips. Before you could utter a word, his lips were on yours, and his hands were exploring the rest of your delectable body.

You returned his kiss with fervour, your tongues intertwining. You tasted the faint traces of blood on his tongue, your blood, a remnant of his recent feed and it sent your senses wild.

“Astarion...” you whimpered.

His hands continued to roam, teasing your buds, kneading your flesh, and caressing your inner thighs.

“What is it, my darling?” He asked, his tone dripping with sensual amusement.

“Take me.”

You could see the fire ignite within his gaze. He did love to hear you beg.

“Are you certain, sweetheart?” He purred, his tone laden with temptation. “I’m not sure you can handle all of me again.”

He was teasing you; challenging you.

“Try me.”

With a low, husky groan, Astarion rolled you onto your back. With his knee, he spread your legs. You could see the raw lust within his gaze as his eyes travelled the length of your naked body. You knew that look well, and it excited every part of your being.

“Do not say I did not warn you, my love.” His voice was a deep purr. His words were a promise.

Taking his manhood, he teased the outside of your folds, coating it with your juices. A gasp escaped your lips. Your hands dug into the bedsheets, desperately seeking something to cling to.

In a swift motion, Astarion entered you. You arched your back and let out a loud, drawn-out moan. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your fingers hard against the scars on his back.

As he moved within you, your hips grinded with him. Your senses were heightened as his touch set your skin alight, and his rhythmic motions brought forth a deep, intense pleasure that threatened to consume you.

“Astarion.” You whimpered, pearls of sweat forming along your brow. As he thrust against you, he brought his hand to your face to caress your cheek ever so adoringly.

“My darling, you are so exquisite.”

A low, husky growl escaped his lips then and he picked up his pace. The sound of his groans of pleasure drove your senses insane. Your muscles began to tense, and your breaths became more shallow. The heat of his skin on yours was electrifying.

As he felt you tighten around him, Astarion leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours. You could feel the heat of his breath on your mouth. His tongue ran along the inside of your bottom lip.

“Do not fight it, darling.” He murmured, his voice thick and seductive.

You moaned in response, your nails digging harder into his skin. You felt a rush of pleasure wash over you, and suddenly, the world was a haze. Your entire body was on fire. Your breath came in short gasps as your walls clenched around him again. You could feel your own wetness on your inner thighs.

It was all too much, especially with the loud creaking of the bed.

You let out a loud, primal cry, and felt a sudden wave of ecstasy drown you. But Astarion wasn’t finished with you yet. His thrusts were still relentless, and his kisses were passionate and demanding.

“Do you have any idea how much I adore you, my love?” He growled. “Every inch of you, every sound that escapes your delicious lips. Gods, you’re divine.”

You couldn’t find the words to respond. Your mind was a blur of euphoria, and you could barely form a coherent thought. You were completely intoxicated by the scent of him, the taste of him, and the feel of him.

Raising himself from your body, he brought your knees up with his arms and pressed them to your chest. He would put you in many more positions before he was finished with you.

Astarion continued to drive himself deep. His pace quickened, and the intensity of his thrust increased tenfold. He let out a deep, guttural growl.

You could tell he was close.

“Come for me, my star,” you breathed.

With a final thrust, he buried himself deeply within, and a wave of ecstasy flooded over you both.

Your muscles contracted around him, milking him of his seed, and you both collapsed, panting, in a hot, sticky mess.

After a long pause to catch your senses, Astarion moved down to the junction between your thighs. He was still not done. Astarion would make you feel such pleasures that your mind would elect to forget all that had been troubling you. He didn’t care for his own seed that was dripping from your core. He wanted to taste you. All of you.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he lowered his mouth, and his tongue darted out to catch your collective juices.

You arched back your neck as you felt his tongue swirling around the folds of your labia, tasting every bit of his essence that mingled with yours.

“Astarion.” You whimpered, and the sensation sent waves of pleasure throughout your body.

He took his time, savouring the sweet, salty taste, and his tongue darted in and out, bringing you close to the edge again.

“Astarion,” you breathed. “You are too much.”

You felt him smirk against your skin.

“But I’m not nearly done with you, my darling.”

And with that, he plunged his tongue deep inside of you, and began to swirl and lick, causing you to arch back your neck again, and your fingers to dig into the sheets once more.

As your orgasm approached, he continued his expert ministrations, and your body shuddered.

When he had decided he had tasted all he desired, Astarion withdrew, and kissed his way up to your navel.

“Gods,” you breathed, “you truly are insatiable.”

“Only for you, my love,” he grinned mischievously through his kisses.

“Astarion,” you pleaded, your voice hoarse from the exertion. “I fear if you continue, I shall die from exhaustion.”

“Nonsense,” he scoffed. “You have an entire night ahead of you, and I intend to enjoy every moment.”

He was teasing you, and you knew it. But, truth be told, you did not have the energy to object.

Yet he knew not to push your boundaries, and he moved to settle down beside you, gently petting your navel as he did.

“Now rest, my darling. We can continue this in the morning.”

You did not argue. Despite how exhausted you now were, you felt eager at the anticipation.

Alas, your eyelids grew heavy as sleep overtook you, and soon you drifted off, nestled in the comfort of your lover’s arms.

#astarion #astarion daddy #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #astarion my beloved #astarion has a child with Tav #Nightfall Heir #dadstarion

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peachirambles · 5 months

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I am a SUCKER for popular x social outcast ships. Can I have some HCs abt Qiu and a MC that doesn't interact with many people outside of their friendgroup?

Anon your mind!!! My mc Aaliyah has one of those dynamics with Qiu for various reasons throughout the steps so I might incorporate that part of their dynamic in here!

Genuinely I do think Qiu's popularity can have both positive and negative impacts on their relationship with the MC, especially if said MC is a outcast

On one hand, Qiu is able to spread the good word about the MC like it's no one's business; especially in step 1 and 3 in particular. Since their the big fish in the youth of Golden Grove, they can make sure that the MC at least has a chance to develop more friendships with others

Step 2 is different because Qiu is out for themself, and I think this is vital for this relationship because of the fact that because Qiu doesn't have a lot of friends here, that means they mostly focus on nourishing the relationships that Matter

However... on the other hand, there's probably a partial chance that Qiu's popularity fed into the MC being a social outcast, especially if their going out of their way to show everyone that the MC is their favorite

It doesn't mean that their the reason the MC is a social outcast, but especially during highschool, kids can be mean and petty because of their own insecurities and the MC being the apple of the most popular kid in school's eyes has probably gotten them shunned from a few friend groups

None of this matters to Qiu though, they're not going to pretend they don't like the MC for the sake of appeasing their fans. Especially in step 2 and 3, the MC is an important part of them and they can't imagine life without them in it

So essentially, Qiu is very much like "This is my favorite person in the whole world and I love them dearly. If you don't like them for superficial reasons, politely I want nothing to do with you." Their always going to choose the MC over everyone else and if people can't accept that for something as superficial as the mc not being as popular as them, then those people have no place near Qiu

#sorry went on a bit of a tangent there LMFAO #our life now and forever #qiu lin #olnf qiu #candy headcanons

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triplesilverstar · 7 months

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Day 8

Rating: Explicit 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Priest Wolfwood X F!Reader

CW: Dub con, Penis in vagina sex, Fingering, Church, sex in a confessional, accused of being a witch, memory loss, animal mutilation, Smoke inhalation, burning to death, almost burning to death

Word count: 2040

A/N: Day 8, You headed to the church in your village, tired of the rumors running rampant about you being a witch. Hoping the local priest can be a voice of reason, too bad once you arrive you don’t hear the voice of your local priest but someone else.

With careful steps you made your way inside the church, lifting your muddy skirt as you climbed the stairs. Lately the whole town had been on edge, livestock stolen and ripped apart in the woods. Blood slathered over house doorways as if the townsfolk were being marked.

You weren’t stupid either, you had always been a bit of an outcast living on the edge of the forest just outside of town. Your father had been the town apothecary and when he passed you had taken up his trade, and when it had been your father providing potions and poultices he was treated with respect. Now that it was you? Half the time you were spit on and called a witch.

Now with everything going on, you felt it was a good idea to play the church a visit and going during the middle of the day so people could see you going inside. Too many of them believed a witch couldn’t enter a church, which you were hoping would help keep the pitchforks at bay. Half your garden had been destroyed by a group of young boys claiming it was to stop you from making a witch's brew.

Once inside you looked around, no one was in sight so you made your way to the confessional. Closing the thin wooden door and taking a seat. Within moments hearing the wooden opening to speak through sliding along it’s grove. “Forgive me father for I have sinned.” And you spoke of the anger sitting in your heart at being accused of being a witch.

Surprised when a deep gruff voice spoke from the other side, what had happened to Father Micheal?

“Is that all my child?” Something about their voice made you feel… more relaxed.

“No. I’m afraid. I’ve… been hearing voices at night. Whispers from the woods. I’m” You paused to lick your lips, feeling the sweat beginning to form on your brow your bindings feeling tighter than it should have. “I’m afraid Father. Afraid something is using me to do these terrible things.” Why are you admitting to that? You came to show the townsfolk you weren’t a witch, not admit you thought it was you!

“Perhaps child, the devil has been using you to work his tasks.” You swallow hard, something about his voice, the low drawl of his words makes something inside of you feel warm. The sound of a door opening reaching your ears, firm footsteps, and then the door you had closed yourself when you sat in the confessional opening. Heart jumping in your chest as you swallow once more.

The priest in front of you is not Father Micheal. No, this priest is taller, and broader, with his tan skin and dark hair. The slightest bit of stubble, and you notice his Adam's apple moving in his throat, while you’ve been having indecent thoughts about the handsome priest. “Father Nicholas, Father Micheal should be back in another two weeks or so.” He’s holding his hand out to you, and you feel yourself placing yours in his, a warmth-encompassing feeling as he pulls you to your feet. Something isn’t right as he looks down his nose at you almost appraisingly, a hand tilting your jaw while he moves closer, his warm breath washing against your ear as he whispers “Since the devil has been using you, we’ll have work to purify you.”

What in the world does that mean? Opening your mouth to answer to can only gasp as you’re swung around, back pressing against his chest, and pulled into his side of the confessional booth, him slamming the door shut and sitting with you flush against him. The hand at your throat sliding up to cover your mouth, the hand that he used to pull you up and against him now hiking the layers of your skirt up.

This. This isn’t right. You should be fighting against this, but something in the back of your mind is whispering. Whispering how you can trust the priest, how he’ll take care of you.

Gasping behind his hand as his probing fingers slide down along the skin of your belly and pushing the fabric of your underclothes away to access the area between your legs. The rough pads of his fingers making you shudder under his hold, something about this making a warmth spread through your center. It reminds you of a time your own fingers had pressed against the area, it had felt good, so good, but afterwards for some reason you had felt dirty. In this moment however, as his fingers moving against the curls between your thighs something feels different about it, softly whining as he explores you.

“Hm. Such a good girl you are. I can see why the devil is interested in you” his voice has dropped lower, feeling the vibrations of his lips moving next to your ear and what you thought was the briefest press of his lips against the shell of it. His fingers delving deeper, both of your hands moving to wrap around his wrist when one of them presses against part of you making your hips jerk. “Ah. There we are.” You can feel something hard pressing up against your back where you’re pulled against him.

Whimpering and jerking lightly against him as he keeps the pressure against that spot, a different finger pressing against it while his other fingers are tracing the folds between your legs. The warmth in your belly is starting to spread and grow, feeling warmer and warmer, and while he keeps the rough pads of his fingers moving you feel a wetness starting to form. While you kept gasping and jerking against him, he kept pressing his fingers and before long that warmth felt like a fire licking at your core, shuddering in his grasp as you felt something race up along your spine and slumping back against him, almost boneless. A low chuckle from the priest behind you, certain this time you feel his nose nuzzling into the back of your head against your hair. “Almost purified. Now stay silent for a few moments.” Keeping his hand between your legs and removing the other from your mouth, his hips pressing into your butt to get you to stand with him. The sound of pants being undone and fabric hitting the floor, the back of your skirt being hiked up and your underclothes pushed to the floor. Something hot and hard pressing against the bare skin of your butt.

His fingers leave your front, feeling his knees bend behind you and that hardness is moved between your legs, pressing against your dripping body, rubbing against it and making you gasp once more. “Prepare to receive my mercy.” It’s all he says before he pushes inside of you, pulling you back against him so you're both seated once more with his member deep inside of you. Tears coming to your eyes from being spread, being filled. From your lessons with your father you knew men had different parts, and had to lance boils for some men that had not been careful with themselves. But. Never had you thought about taking one of them inside you, you might not have been the best follower of the church's teachings but you knew this wasn’t something that anyone unmarried was not supposed to do. Now you had a priest of all men inside of you, parts of your mind at war with yourself as he replaced his hand over your mouth again and started moving your body so you were moving along his length. The pain slowly subsides the longer he moves you. One part screaming how this wasn’t right, and another saying this was how it was supposed to be.

That same warmth is building in your belly again, and your body is starting to move on its own, more fluid dripping from you and around his member inside of you. The hand he had been using to move your body slides along your skin to press against that hardened bud again. The sound of the church door opening makes both of you freeze “Stay silent little lamb” whispered in your ear before the priest starts to move his fingers once more.

The voice of the village elder coming from the confessional booth you had been in just a short while ago. And as he speaks you feel yourself growing angry, he’s the reason those boys had ripped up your garden! The longer he speaks the more anger you feel. He’s the one who even before these events had started was spreading the rumors of you being a witch! The priest almost sensing your anger turns your head, pressing his lips against your forehead before speaking to the village elder. “The lord works in mysterious ways. If there is darkness here, trust in the lord to find it and bring it into the light. Your actions belittle you.” Hearing the priest, his voice tinted with a hint of gravel echos around you as he tells the elder to provide prayers for the salvation of his soul and to beg forgiveness.

It surprises you that once the elder leaves the confessional the priest goes back to working your body, feeling his thickness as it slides in and out of you, his fingers moving at that quick pace once again. Panting lowly against your ear. Swallowing as you feel him twitching inside of you, panting yourself behind his hand as the fire inside of you turns into an inferno and tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Hissing as his mouth sinks into the nap of your neck, using your skin to muffle his own noises as something burning fills your center. After a while as the thing inside of you seems to soften, the priest lets go of your skin with a slick pop. “You’ll find. I'm full of mercy little lamb.” The hand on your mouth moves to push your hair to the side “just a few more times.” When you leave the church, dusk is approaching, you carefully make your way back to your home trying to avoid anyone seeing you since they would no doubt question where you had been in the church. Unaware the village elder watched you leave.

You should have been more careful.

Later that night as you prepared to sleep you find your door being broken down, villagers grabbing you and tying you up to take you to an unlit pyre, tying your body to the centerpiece. Liquid is pouring from your eyes, you don’t understand until the elder is screaming, a gag tied around your lips. “Here is the witch! The corruptor!” At the corner of the crowd, you see him, a large cross held behind his back, Father Nicholas watching as this all plays out. “Even today she worked her evils! Forcing the priest to do her vile bidding!” What! That wasn’t what had happened! “Even the lord’s servant is bound to her whim! He confessed himself and gave testimony, tonight her wickedness ends!” All while he’s screaming you’re looking at Nicholas, his parting words from earlier ringing in your ear. “Have faith, our lord will save you.” He hasn’t said a word since you’ve been dragged out, just letting the villagers join in with the elder about the things you’ve done wrong in their eyes. Some of them would have died if it hadn’t been for you, and now they were calling for your death. Ignoring them you look to Nicholas once more, his eyes clear and a curt nod sent your way.

“Now! We burn this wicked hag!” Watching almost in slow motion as the torch is put to the kindling around the pyre at your feet. It doesn’t take long for the kindling to start to take the larger pieces of wood, feeling the heat already starting to become too much and your lungs were starting to hurt. The gag in your mouth isn’t helping and you feel yourself starting to feel faint, your head pounding and a ringing in your ears, head slumping forward. You must be hearing things. You think you hear the sound of something flapping like leather in the wind.

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myhauntedsalem · 1 month

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The Lizzie Borden House

“Lizzie Borden took an axe, And gave her mother forty whacks, When she saw what she had done, She gave her father forty-one.”

The grisly poem above was inspired by one of the most famous cases of murder to ever occur on U.S. soil. The Lizzie Borden murders captivated the entire country during the late 19th century and continues to inspire ghost stories and tales of paranormal activity by anyone who dares to enter the home of Lizzie Borden.

It’s not surprising that reports of haunted activity and paranormal occurrences have been whispered about at the Lizzie Borden House for quite some time. The violent and emotional nature of the tragic events that transpired there have been forever burned into it’s walls and the memories of residents in Fall River, Massachusetts.

The haunted history of The Lizzie Borden House begins on a Thursday afternoon during the year of 1892. Lizzie Borden was the daughter of Andrew Jackson Borden, who was a wealthy and influential citizen of Fall River. He was not particularly friendly to people, but took his business matters seriously. He was the board director for several banks in the local area and had his hand in commercial real estate as well.

His choice for a home wasn’t very impressive when compared to homes of other men of his stature. Lizzie Borden had openly expressed her desire to move into a better area and a bigger, more beautiful home. Andrew Borden would have no part of this and being the penny pinching type of fellow that he was, preferred the lesser expensive home that was close to his business dealings. Many have attributed the sense of entitlement that Lizzie felt as one of the factors that Lizzie Borden began to put a strain on her relationship with her father and his second wife, Abby. The relationship between Lizzie and her stepmother wasn’t particularly great either.

Nobody would ever have guessed that Lizzie Borden, a Sunday school teacher and well known member of the community would have been responsible for what would happen that day.

Sometime before noon, as Andrew Borden napped on the couch, he was attacked by someone wielding an axe. He was struck repeatedly until he was dead. The body was hacked to the point that it was unrecognizable by most. Little did he know as he laid down for his nap that his wife Abby was already dead on the floor above, her blood seeping through the cracks of the wooden floor. She had been attacked with the same axe. The position of her body when found suggested that she was kneeling down beside the bed when the gruesome attack occurred. Some say she was praying, others say that she was simply making the bed. Either way, Abby Borden didn’t have a chance when her murderer entered the room, filled with rage and armed with an axe.

The news traveled fast in those times and sinister acts such as these were practically unheard of. Lizzie Borden was arrested for the murders although she maintained her innocence. The trial made headlines nationwide as the world became fascinated with the Sunday school teacher that had hacked her parents to death. Eventually, Lizzie Borden was found innocent of the crimes by the courts.

Some of the local townsfolk however, had a different opinion. Lizzie Borden was somewhat of an outcast from the community and forever marked as a murderer. This didn’t bother Lizzie very much as she immediately purchased a grand home on the hill along with her sister who had always been equally unhappy with the home that Andrew Borden had chosen for them. They named the home “Maplecroft”. Lizzie lived in the home until her death at age 67. She was buried alongside the graves her father and stepmother in Fall River’s Oak Grove Cemetery.

Over one hundred years later, The Borden House has been turned into the Lizzie Borden Bed & Breakfast. Many patrons of the inn have reported various accounts of ghostly activity within the house. The most popular room and reportedly the most haunted is the room in which Abby Borden was hacked to death. People have witnessed a woman in 19th century clothing making the bed. Disembodied voices have been heard coming from empty rooms and echoing through the house. Footsteps that belong to no one are also a common experience inside The Lizzie Borden House.

Perhaps the most spooky reports are that of a woman heard crying throughout the home. Is it the sobbing spirit of Lizzie Borden, riddled with guilt for the slaying of her parents? Or perhaps the spirit of Abby Borden whose life was cut short by the edge of an axe? Either way, The Lizzie Borden House will forever remain one of the most interesting and allegedly haunted places in America. If you are ever in Massachusetts, You can always reserve the most special room at the Lizzie Borden Bed & Breakfast and test the local legends for yourself.

#The Lizzie Borden House #lizzie borden #ghost and hauntings #paranormal #ghost and spirits #haunted locations #haunted salem #myhauntedsalem #paranormal phenomena #supernatural #spirits #ghosts #hauntings #haunted house

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cabin-3-counselor · 9 months

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i've risen from my slumber for the biggest event of the year (personal opinion)

Perseus 'Percy' Jackson's Birthday

so here follows a incomplete speedrun of his achievements throughout his years as a demigod, Son of Poseidon

Percy at the age of 12 had already gone through 6 schools in six years because of accidents, related to his immortal side, that lead to many explosions in and of said schools

He controlled water to almost choke a class mate that was bullying his best friend, Grover Underwood, at 12

He fought off a Fury at 12

He killed the Minotaur at 12

He killed the Medusa at 12

He sent the head of Medusa to Mount Olympus

He killed a Chimera at 12

He out smarted and killed Procrustes at 12

He went to the Underworld to rescue his mother's soul and prove that he did not steal Zeus's Master Bolt

He survived the trip to the Underworld

He fought the manifestation of Terror in War, The God Ares, and won (he got one hit and Ares got too embarrassed so he ditched the fight)

He and his mother, used the head of Medusa to kill his stepfather, and after turning him into stone, sold his frozen corpse so they could get a better apartment and so that Sally could finally finance her college degree

He managed to fight off Luke Castellan and the venom from Orion's Scorpion so he could get to a river and be brought back to Camp Half-blood

Percy, at the age of 13 got into a new school and befriended a new outcast there, later on, said outcast, is revealed to be a monster whose race is considered particularly dangerous for demigods, but Tyson, said friend, turns out to be the sweetest cyclop to ever walk the planet

He fought a group of gigants at this new school with Tyson's help (in Portuguese, one of the gigants is called Zé Mané, which is the best piece of translation in a book I have ever seen)

He fought the Khalkotauroi, Colchis Bulls, right after fighting the cannibal giants, at Camp Half-blood's hill

This isn't much of a achievement but well he also did realise that Poseidon had other children and that Tyson, a monster, was one of them

He ventured the Sea of Monsters at 13

He saved Annabeth from the siren's songs at 13

He fought the cyclop Polyphemus, another half brother of his, at 13

He fought Luke Castellan, again, and won, again

He was in the mission, and a crucial player in said mission, to retrieve the Golden Fleece, that not only made the Pine Tree heal, but also brought Thalia back from the comatose/half dead state

He helped Groved in mission to rescue two demigods, children of Hades, at 14

He fought the Lion of Nemea at 14

Battled Talos, but eventually, Bianca Di'angelo, Daughter of Hades, Huntress of Artemis, was the one who actually destroyed Talos, it costed her life

He fought Atlas, the Titan sentenced to hold up the Sky (Ouranos) for all eternity, to ensure he never laid nor hurt Gaea (the Earth) again

He, for a brief moment, also held up the sky

With Annabeth, at age 15, he discovered one of the many entrances to Daedalus's Labyrinth

They, Annabeth, Grover, Percy and Tyson, faced the minor god Janus in a mission in the Labyrinth

They meet Briarea, the Hundred Handed One (personally, one of my favourite moments)

Cleaned Geryon's stables, without a Nymph's help (looking at you Herakles)

This one, this one isn't Percy's, but I need to mention Annabeth outwitting the Sphinx when they were on their way to Hephaestus

Percy and Annabeth go to Mount St. Helens, to aid Hephaestus, they battle the telekhines

PERCY GETS KISSED BY ANNABETH CHASE

Which leads to him blowing up Mount St. Helens and surviving it, at age 15

Ĥ̴̛̙͇͎̜̹͇͓̖̿̾͂̇́̚͝ę̸͉̹͔̻̐̆́͂̎̇̆̃ ̶̮̪̩̼̺̌͂̎̈́̅̽̐̍͛̚ͅg̶̢̫̺̘̳̗̙̖̏͐̒̌̊̀ơ̶̢͚̗̜̟̜͍͉̠̅ę̸͔̲̳̟͐̀̏͗͆͒̊͘̕͜͝s̸̢̟̃͋̀̕ ̵̞̻̭̼͚̖͎̳̬́̾͜ t̶̖̮̗̣̠̘̘̿̇ó̴̬̠̺̈́͌̌̅̾̿̐̕ ̵̛͔̳͇̈́̏͋͑͠ C̶̝̯̠̳͚͔̪̓́̋̀̑̒̂͆͝ͅą̸̹͐̽̀̏̊͗l̸͖͙̪̏̏̈́̇͗̚̚͘͜y̵̞͓͂̌̒̃p̸̹̻͖̝͌̈̕s̴͉̰̹͕̤̹̅o̸̧̤͖̩̮̥͖̊̍̀̈́'̴̭̮̲̉̒̓͒̚͠s̶̲̠̭̣͚͔̤͍̓́̉̐̎͠ ̴͙͛͌̉̒̊̌̚ Ḯ̸̠͊̄̈́ş̴̳͈̲̠̬̙̿̎̇̏̊l̶͒̈̇̅̂͘͝a̷̞̦̝͇̗̖̓̆̒̾̐̃n̸̼̳͙̄̂̕͜d̵̨̛͕̘̎͂͑̐͛͌̿͝ͅ

When he comes back, Annabeth tries one last a expedition to the middle of the Labyrinth, there they end up in Antaeus gladiatoral fights

Percy at age 15 fights his half-brother, a giant, Anaetus, and wins (for anyone keeping score this is two fights now, against giants that Percy won WITHOUT the help of the gods, so either he is that powerful or rick contradicts himself in HoO, I prefer the first option cause I am completely biased)

They meet Pan, and before the God of the Wild dies, he gets blessed by him

Percy becomes a proud father of a demon dog, Mrs. O'Leary

Still at 15 Percy becomes the main general (for lack of better title) of the Camp Half-blood's army in the Battle of Manhattan

He blows up, with the help of Charlie Beckendorf, the Princess Andromeda, a ship used by Kronos and his army

At age of 15, Percy is taken to the Underworld, by Nico Di'Angelo, so that he can go to the River Styx and get to himself the Curse Achilles had

He gets offered the Pandora's Box and refuses it

He makes a deal with the entities of the Rivers Hudson and East to aid Camp's forces and drown Kronos's ships

Percy thought off Kronos, possessing Luke's body in Mount Olympus, and won

He was offered immortality, godhood, and refused it, in it's place he basically demanded the gods to pay child support

At age of 16 he ended the Second Titanomachy War

Percy helps Cater Kane, an Egyptian Magician in a fight against an Egyptian monster

At the same age he got kidnapped by Hera and stayed hidden away for an entire year untill the second great prophecy was ready to take it's course

At age 17 Percy, is sent to Camp Jupiter, by the wolf Lupa, Hera tried to take away his memories, but he remembers Annabeth

He fought off Medusa's sisters, the Gorgons Stheno and Euryale

He even without memory, knows he has beef with Ares/Mars when Mars appears at Camp Jupiter to send his son, Frank Zhang into a quest to release the God of Death, Thanatos

He defeats the karpoi with Frank

Percy fights another half sibling of his, it's a worrying trend

He helps retrieve the pride of the Twelfth Legion in the process of freeing Thanatos

He survives the fall off of a glacier

When they go back to Camp Jupiter, Percy with his memories now intact, he challenges the giant Polybotes to a duel, and now the ridicule rule lf "only a joint effort of a demigod and a god can defeat a giant", and he call upon Terminus, and wins

Still at 17 (my poor boy can't catch a break, I swear to god), he joins the Argo II crew and it becomes official that he is again, a important part of a second great prophecy

Percy almost killed Jason when possesed by Eidolons (it is my truth, jason trained his whole life and his abilities match percy's who barely trained half of the summers he was at camp since he was twelve)

"You dropped this" scene, no explanation needed, not only peak romance but also peak awareness of danger all the time

Percy knocks out Herakles

He outwits Chrysaor by impling that Dionysius is the real captain of the Argo II and that he would show up if the crew didn't complete their task

Percy falls into Tartarus with Annabeth

At Tartarus Percy controls the River Cocytus

Five minutes later he kills Arachne

He battles against the Empousai for like the third time since he was 14

Percy gets almost deadly hurt by killing the Arai, manifestations of the last curses some gives and in my boy's case. . . . he had many curses addressed to him

PERCY CHOKED THE GODDESS OF MISERY, AKHLYS, WITH HER OWN POISON. HE CONTROLLED THE POISO AND MOST CERTAINLY HER TO CHOKE ON IT (unofficially proof that he can bloodbend - like Katara - and control other liquids)

He and Annabeth outwit Nyx, Goddess Night

They fight Tartarus, God of the Pit (Hell)

He and Leo make Nike go bonkers

He is well . . . He is in the battle to stop Gaea and they win

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fernthewhimsical · 7 months

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Prayer a Day, part 1

For October I decided to give myself a little challenge, and started writing one prayer per day. I made a list of all the deities and entities that I honour in my practice, and am steadily working through that list. Here are the first eight prayers (or poems), to Cernunnos, Baduhenna, Nehalennia, Wolf, Elen of the Ways, Nemetona, Freyr, and Loki.

Cernunnos Lord of the liminal, the in-between The place between life and death, man and woman, hunter and hunted Lord of the cycles of life, of both ancient moss covered forests, and hallowed burial mounds King to all who live in your realms, plant and animal, witch and Fae, and all that lies in between. I honour you

Baduhenna I call on you, Ravenwitch You, who fights with magic and madness Who defends with sword and shield Valkyrie Goddess of Frisia I call on you, Mistqueen You, who holds the secrets of magic who’s the sovereign of the land Daughter of the Morrigan I call on you, Rootwoman You, who connects us to our past, Who reminds us of our power Defender of the marsh forest I call on you, Baduhenna Be with me

Nehalennia Stuurvrouw, Oogstmoeder, Vrouwe van de Zee. Ik drijf if uw golven, Draag mij met u mee

Steerswoman, Harvestmom, Lady of the Sea, I float in your waves, Lady, carry me

(to the tune of Horned One, Lover, Son)

Wolf Run with me ‘neath shining moon, and howl to the Silver Lady Roam with me ‘neath warming sun, and show me the hidden way Rest with me ‘neath shading tree, as I watch the young cubs play Revel with me ‘neath starlit sky, as humanity slips away Roar with me ‘neath watchful eyes, and join the hunt for prey

Elen of the Ways Lady of journeys, within and without Guide me to myself, to my inner light Lead the way, to a better me Show me where to go Show me the next step Elen of the Labyrinth be with me

Nemetona Leaf-crowned guardian of the grove She who protects boundaries of land, home, and person She who is one with the earth with the trees, flowers, and plants Bark-skinned warden of sacred places I honour you

Freyr Golden sunlight upon golden grain Warmth of the heartlight Communities chosen and born We take what is needed, and share what we have We fight for those who cannot, and raise their voices high We love with all our hearts, and celebrate humanity Golden Freyr who guards us, and provides for us all I honour you

Loki Change-bringer, Flamehaired deity of mischief, You who break chains, and social conventions Who burns what is old, to grow what is new Who brings a smile, and bright ringing laughter Who gives strength to the weird, the outcasts and the queer I love and honour you

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art-of-tek · 2 months

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MarInk Day 6: Golden

Cody from my webseries Outcast Grove (which is currently on hiatus, being revamped as a book eventually)! Remember him?

He's a golden retriever. Fun fact in some of my stories (not just OG) the commonly seen as very friendly dog breeds (e.g. Labradors or golden retrievers) are antagonists just to turn the common trope on its head a bit. There's also Bella, who is a Labrador, and in Dark Stones there's Sandy who is also a Labrador.

#fanart #artists on tumblr #original character #traditional art #dog #dogs #outcast grove #golden retriever #marink #inktober #my art #art #oc

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writing-with-tek · 2 years

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Literally can’t decide what breed to make the Dog-lord (in OG). Originally they were a Napoletano but now I’m having possible second thoughts.

I’m torn between these three. All I know is that i want a molossian type with cropped ears for them.

#text #outcast grove

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streaminn · 10 months

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Damn you writers block... Have a little something that my brain allows me lol (I swear just dumping my ideas on you is the only thing allowing my brain to write SOMETHING)

Enid and Lorraine's closeness took time, an estimated two to three weeks of the wolf working there. Feeding the horses, and sheep, and tending to the cattle - Lorraine was there, mostly watching talking about anything with Enid. Even about the project she was working on with her friends (and boyfriend lol RJ who? xD).

Enid found it interesting mostly just hearing her talk and not the movie itself (they both don't know its a porno yet). Lorraine rarely spoke for long or at all, but when she did it was a treat to Enid. Such a soft spoken voice was music to the wolf's ears.

However, the good times weren't bout to last when Enid got caught at a nearby pond tending to her fur, ears, and tail out freely. Until it was too late, Lorraine found her in the grove and saw her in all her glory. The only question now was, who was gonna speak first? And who was gonna run away?

Enid would've definitely dashed away if it weren't for Lorraine reaching over and tugging at Enid's tail

"you-- you're a -" Lorraine stuttered, fumbling over her words.

A beast? A monster taking advantage of your family's kindness? Enid thinks and she braces herself for the scorn, for the hand curled along her tail to be harsh and tight.

"you're a werewolf!" the farmer's daughter gasps and she looks excited? "I didn't--I would've never realized-"

Enid gives a smile, a definitely awkward one yet it was slowly turning fond as the lady started to fumble over her words. The werewolf nudges a lil bit closer, pulling her tail to herself in the process. It was obvious the woman had no harm in mind, yet you can never be too careful.

"I was hiding it for a reason 'raine," Enid quips before jolting a tad when Lorraine reached over to hold onto her hands and pull it close.

"you don't have to hide aroun' me 'nid." the smile she holds is beautiful, so absolutely breathtaking that Enid thinks that she's about to have an asphyxiation right then and there. "i know that outcasts got a certain reputation but you're a good gal, I know you are-"

Enid couldn't stop her smile from turning true here, her head ducking a little bit and she didn't need to turn to hear the air swish from behind her.

"you think so?"

Lorraine giggles. "I know so."

Anyways since Lorraine sounds like a very curious person, I thought that it's be neat that Wednesday's fascination for learning abt werewolves got transfered to her instead!!

#Enid x lorraine #Writing #Theblackwolfalpha

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tumblingxelian · 4 months

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Outcast Society Headcanons - Wednesday (Netflix)

I have no clue how much longer this hyperfixation is gonna have its claws embedded in my brain matter. So I decided to get my mixture of analytical headcanons (IE based on canon) and more out there headcanon (Based on what I think/want) out in one big post!

Supernatural Magic - Analysis It is clear based on visions, seances and the resurrection of Crackstone that magic is entirely-doable within the Nevermore universe. What's more, as opposed to being strictly tied to specific types of Outcasts it seems anyone can use these powers with right tools and materials.

This makes their magic incredibly ritualistic, with key times of year, location, supplies and even stuff like blood or historical connection playing a large part in magic's use. Along with more simplistic but still incredibly useful items like Crystal Balls, living plants and more falling into a 'easily replicated' mold, relatively speaking.

I imagine that "Monster Hunters" would explain away their use of magic either as fire to fight fire, disguise its nature or claim it came from their god rather than 'unnatural' sources. Though this would exclusively be in periods where magic was considered suspect to use such as the Pilgrim times.

Though I do think it likely remained only in use among relatively small groups or secretive factions to maintain its power, similar to how the recipe for Greek Fire was lost because those who held it did not want it stolen. Modern use is likely relatively tightly regulated and access to magical knowledge horded.

Supernatural Locations - Headcanon

Certain locations are inherently magical all year round and all the time. The Addams's family Manor is built on one, the Balkan countryside Esther wanted to send Enid too would be another and there would be numerous other examples around the world.

These locations, be they forest, lake, mountain or desert will all be in possession of some degree of if not intelligence then will and supernatural powers. The Addam's family's land predates their arrival and is attuned to death and specters. Thus, the Addams who came to be its caretakers are themselves influenced and so are a form of not quite undead Outcast. The Balkan countryside could, if its forests were damaged, drive its attackers into beastial rages and have them set up one another and so on.

These locations tend to need caretakers because while they can counteract direct physical threats. More subtle or nebulous one's are much harder to deal with. And intern these caretakers are tolerated by most local governments because even if they could destroy the region the cost would usually be extensive. Such as, bombing a sacred grove leading to a mass forest first that could not be out out.

Supernatural Families- Analysis Based on the existence of the Thorpe family, references to other legacies, talk of the Morning Song Cult and the preferential treatment given to the Addams family. I think it is entirely reasonable to assume that there is some degree of class hierarchy among the Outcasts. One that can, but does not necessarily, crossover into the human world.

Put simply, not all Outcasts have major businesses or are represented by famous seers, or live in fancy manors. What's more, not all and in fact most Outcasts cannot expect their children to, for example, escape putting piranhas in the school pool and seriously injuring people and to get away with a slap on the wrist. Given what we've seen and heard regarding Outcast treatment, it would likely be prison or potentially shot dead by trigger happy police.

This of course does not entirely insulate them from potential threats or hate crimes as the show demonstrates. But wealth, or the connections born of being well respected families with many friends can create a large buffer zone between what other Outcasts face.

I will add however, that while the Addams are both well off and well connected they are not the equivalent of Outcast royalty. They are essentially old money rich, they don't need day jobs, but they do need to make appearances at events, network and dole out favors as necessary. They can protect themselves or their children from some degree of criminal charges, but it can only go so far. And while some students seemed aware of them, most did not seem to regard the Addams as more notable than any other.

Supernatural Alternate History - Analysis/Headcanon Based on the show itself we know elements of history have gone slightly ajar. What with actual magic existing and the like, but also that humans still ended up as the 'dominant species' so to speak. This seems to have come about in part thanks to humanities larger numbers and thus their ability to organize large scale persecution campaigns.

Obviously history going the same at all requires something of a "Unicorn" world building wise, but that's hardly a story telling crime.

Now, if I were to come up with an explanation as to how this happened given some of what we have seen magic and Outcasts be able to do I would say it came down to several factors.

First things first I would say it was not necessarily always this way. Athens likely did have several Snake/Gorgon monarchs before some human figure used a mirrored shield on them and took over. There likely was a Count Dracula in some form or another who may well have made similar attempts to the novel and met a similar end and so on.

Second among them would be that whatever their origins, Outcast unity and even unity among singular species of Outcasts was relatively rare. It can often be the case that if a group falls into a comfortable niche it can be all too easy to rest on one's laurels and then be snuck up on.

Werewolves for instance would have an easy time hunting and controlling an extensive territory and may well have found it more trouble than it was worth to adopt things like farming or herding. But that also means most families and wider packs would be relatively small in number and so when humans began to outnumber them extensively and cull areas of food it became harder to survive. Even if they did drive the humans off and more would always come back.

Similar stories among other outcast species likely echo in history.

Thirdly, Outcasts would be no more immune to holding onto power possessively than anyone else. A vampire for instance may not want to share its extended lifespan with any but those it is fond of, even if more vampires might mean greater safety in the long run. Thus they may have seen each other as threats, or otherwise not sought large-scale unity and generally could well have neglected focusing on humans for each other. A house divided cannot stand and if none of them were even in said house it becomes very easy to burn down.

Fourthly, as noted regular humans can also use magic which can easily become a great equalizer. Though many of such humans may have themselves become inhuman themselves in time, others might not have, or faded before they could and would pose a threat regardless.

Fifthly, I don't think Outcasts necessarily have to have 'lost' everywhere. I have some elaborate headcanons regarding a surviving but radically different Kanem–Bornu nation built around Lake Chad in Africa. IE, with colonialism in full swing, many Outcasts fled death by going inland and united with local nations and eventually formed a coalition strong enough to resist the imperial powers even at their peak, making the resulting nation one of the few with a major Outcast population. Though like Ethiopia, Japan and Thailand they likely had to compromise a lot in terms of policy. There are likely others as well, though I have less specific ideas regarding those.

Sixthly is very much a me thing but I would love to explore Outcast biology, IE, they are different species if closely related to humans, and how that influences culture and behavior, thus:

Supernatural Species - Headcanon Each Supernatural species is capable of communicating with humans and can to one degree or another pass as human at least part of the time. Though the effort and plausibility varies wildly and how effectively they could intermingle genetically is likely down to 'type', Gorgons would likely struggle to conceive a child with a human more than a werewolf would.

Notes: Unique Supernatural Species List:

Shapeshifters: These are not a society unto themselves, so much as a random mutation/blessing that sometimes appears in random Outcast or more rarely human children. More closely related to Lycens than anything else and they need to maintain concentration on their shifted form at all times or revert to their 'true form' which can be but is not necessarily the one they were assigned at birth.

Hydes: These beings are complicated as they are not considered Outcasts by some. This is because they were not 'born' or 'turned' as others might be but engineered. Specifically by covens and Monster Hunters by taking an infant, an animal and a Lycan. Torturing and eventually, once they were 'broken', killing the latter two during a transformation and latching some of their essence onto the infant. Ensuring a separate creature would grow on their being like a tumor until awoken into a powerful and malevolent but obedient creature.

Well, obedient for a few years before they gained the maturity to think for themselves and usually kill their masters, if not killed before by their masters, foes or their hosts if the walls dividing their identities did not fall fast enough. They became a curse that could appear in people at seemingly random. Much of this is only known to Lycans who keep a tight lid on it.

Psychics/Witches: This category covers those like Eugene, the Addams and more. They often began their ancestor as normally humans but not only learned 'some' magic but became so engrossed with it that it began to alter their fundamental nature. Usually aligning them with a 'type' of magic, such as the Addams penchant for death and spirits, or Eugene's Bees and so on.

Some of these would be absorbed into pre-existing communities such as the Lycan or vampiric depending on their magic, but others would not and go on to form their own clans or covens. What's more the occasional 'mutation' can appear among humans, though they are usually limited to whatever innate ability they were granted without training and growing closer to the 'source' of their magic.

Most Supernatural species outside these groups can be broken down into two major categories, the born and the transformed.

The born - Sirens and Gorgons:

The only means by which there can be more of them is through procreation or magical ritual designed to emulate the process. Which is a problem given both species none human sides are not social creatures.

That is to say where a human may lose their mind and die from stress or self destruction in isolation, a Gorgon could happily spend years alone and be largely unaffected. Hence the most famous being Medusa who resided on an island alone.

Sirens operate in a rather similar manner, usually only acting collectively to hunt more easily rather than for companionship. It is also reflected in Sirens rarely bearing last names as even familial ties tend to be rather loose at best.

Gorgons and Sirens do not dislike company they simply do not need it to survive except against external enemies and thus did not form families, clans or large-scale organizations until they needed to. But by that time they were already falling well behind and there were a great many learning curves to overcome and little time to do it in.

These factors made them somewhat easier prey than more organized Outcast factions that usually had stronger support networks.

Notes:

There are also deep Sea Sirens and Fresh Water Sirens. Most seen in Nevermore are of the latter variety, as they are usually marginally more comfortable on land, while Sea Siren primarily live in the ocean.

Gorgons also generally have snakes on their head, but can also have snake like torsos, or legs, or some combination there-of. Though less "Human" gorgon tended to be more aggressively targeted by Hunters.

The transformed- Lycan & Vampires:

The name is something of a misnomer as both vampires and werewolves 'can' procreate, but they can also turn humans without a strong supernatural affiliation into their own kind.

(Those with strong affiliations such as the Addams are nearly impossible to turn, though they can at times loose some of their natural attunement for an adoptive one.)

This process of transformation is not swift and needs to be carefully managed; otherwise it can fail, or worse cause physical and psychological instability, harm and even death.

It is however, something inherent to both species, which tends to lead vampires and Lycans to feel a bit closer to each other than their born counterparts and visa versa.

Beyond this, both species are incredibly social minded, even if it is not obvious on the surface. This is because they are essentially two very social species in one body. Thus, there is twice the need for companionship, further buoyed by their predator instincts necessitating a strong sense of community to keep the species alive.

Lycan: These can be werewolves, were-hyena (bultungin) and others can, once they have transformed, begin mastering it in day to day life. This means a werewolf is always a werewolf, the full moon simply eases the process and being able to retain one's human form or exhibit perfect control when transformed are signs of maturity and strength in Lycan society. Some may struggle to transform their entire bodies outside of a full moon, but hands becoming paws, maws becoming massive and full of fangs are nearly always possible.

Much like with Vampires, Lycan ca both reproduce and transform others, though because of their tight family bonds they usually trend towards the former. This is far from universal and the family and especially wider pack structure can be quite open to newly transformed members. What's more, Lycan will usually form small family units, but be apart of larger packs, these can be blood related but do not need to be, their pack bond however tends to only be shared with direct family members, blood relatives, adopted or transformed, one's mate and in the case of the transformed, the one who turned them and the turned.

Lycan turning is akin to popular media, with strategic bites, usually on full moons, but rituals can also pass on the change or otherwise aid and enhance it.

The Lycan pack bond is reflective of their intense needs for communities as they can quite literally die when bereft of them. The connection is subtle but ever present, creating a sense that the Lycan has family, has others and separation from this by it being severed can be violently traumatic.

If shocking enough the resulting heart attack may kill them. If not a surprise they may die slowly due to heartbreak syndrome with their body slowly shutting down. Lycan parents can also be driven to permanently feral states the loss of newborns, a fact often taken advantage of by monsters hunters.

It is possible to avoid dying from the loss of the bond, but it usually requires a mate, turning others to recreate it. Or a tightly knit friend group tnhat live together and can always spare one or two people to perpetually be in the Lycans company, thus helping simulate the pack bonds inherent awareness its fellow family is alive and present.

These are not surefire ways however.

Vampires: form into clans of shared blood, there is a subtle bond between all members. Not to the point of mind reading or loss of identity, but it does tend to let moods bleed over somewhat and further still, let them know when kindred have been killed.

Yoko: We are not a hive mind, we are a hive vibe.

Vampires with even a small family can often becomes dangerously unhinged and lose their sense of selves such as Count Dracula's wife and children and to a lesser extent the count himself. This is why Vampire's form clans or "Colonies"; because isolation breeds madness.

Most vampires even in the modern day practice 'adoption'. This is in part because it allows the clan to assess many potential candidates and pick someone who will actually acclimate well to being a vampire rather that rely on unpredictability. But there are exceptions.

To become a vampire one first becomes a thrall, tied to the network and feeding off the elder vampires blood and gaining power. The process to change however takes time and usually stalls out until the thrall has reached their age of maturity before they are fully converting and the powers become their own.

Conclusion:

These aforementioned traits, be they prone to isolationism or such intense bonds that they can become crippling could often be taken advantage of by "Monster Hunters". At least before the Supernatural community began organizing itself to better protect itself from death and exploitation.

Outcast Magic - Headcanon As noted above, those born with Supernatural powers will have a natural affiliation. This does not strictly preclude other magics, but will often make learning them much harder unless one's inherent nature shifts.

Sirens most obviously hold influence over mind magics and sound. These powers are inherently immense. Though they can be overcome by some creatures innately. Such as Lycan due to their minds changing during shifts, with proper magical defenses, or ear plugs in the case of mind control.

Gorgons have a natural power towards stone and petrification, it is extremely powerful, but also rather hard to utilize safely, control, or use in other ways. Though with time and effort it can be done and there are many spells and rituals a gorgon can use that take from their natural affinity.

Vampires magic is tied both to blood but also the draining of essence in of itself. A vampire may use blood to power spells, or they can 'drink' the energy from magical defenses. It is often hard for them to externalize magic aggressively, especially without blood as a catalyst, but they can weaken their foes very effectively. Hence often being called parasites by the more hateful.

Lycan magic is reflective of the body in meat and bone, muscle and flesh, as well as an ability to tap into and draw on lunar energies for spells and protections that would often require rituals and regents. It is primal but powerful and tends to be reflected in their ability to heal and their voracious appetites to fuel it.

Faceless: I know very little of them, though given they seem to feed n fear, it is likely they would often make enemies and they likely did not easily form families, let alone communities.

Supernatural Origins & Species- Headcanon the Supernatural community does not know of their specific origins, be it gods, or demons or mere mutations and magic. Or even if they came first or humans did. Though everyone has a theory and faith of their own.

Supernatural Community - Analysis/Headcanon It is clear from Nevermore, the Nightshade society, Principle Weems efforts to diplomatically represent Outcasts and connections between powerful families (& if one wants to touch on older series, arranged marriages) That the Supernatural Community is organized and at least relatively united in mutual defense against humans, even as they live amongst them.

This state of affairs likely emerged in small cases in history with pacts, deals and alliances. Before becoming more necessary during the era of colonialism with many nations invaded grappling with disease, climate change, invaders, political instability and more. While in other regions, organized crusades to drive out Outcasts became ever more intense and dangerous.

In the past a werewolf pack might be struck for trespassing on the lands of an Italian city state. Or the Achaemenid Empire might coopt Sirens into their courtly intrigue by bribery or force. If an anti Supernatural ideology emerged it would often be localized and could be escaped or fought. But with events like the Crusades this became more and more dangerous and that danger was eventually exported around the world.

(Some other regions and powers, such as the Mongols or Song Dynasty may have already engaged in such efforts on their own before this.)

In the case of the "New World" many Outcasts fled to these regions, hoping to recoup and reorganize in what was said to be uninhabited land.

Naturally, encountering colonies, indigenous nations and local Outcasts disrupted such plans. Leading to an increasingly violent and chaotic era for all involved that benefited but a few.

The West Coast Pack Alliance: (A Success Story)

Not all was grim however, the 'San Fran Pack' not known as such at the time, not only aligned with their cousin Lycan, but with indigenous nations in mutual defense pacts that nearly pushed the colonizers out of the Colorado region entirely.

However the invaders scorched earth policies and willingness to potentially risk their own destruction for victory, along with other such hold outs such as the Siren and their allies in the Great Lakes region, led to a set of grudging treaties.

These varied rather wildly and there have been efforts to change, improve, undermine, work around, worsen or destroy them over the centuries but most still hold to some degree.

Usually the signees would be granted some degree of land over which they held dominion, but would be expected to pay some degree of tax and exist in 'peace' with the newly formed colonies.

Reception and attitudes on whether signing these rather than trying to fight and win have long been debated.

In the 'Colorado' region, the mountains were signed away to the indigenous nations and their Outcast allies, with mixed results, but one's that survive to this day.

The Sinclairs and several other families reside on the San Bruno Mountain in various small homesteads or compounds that would be considered somewhere between working and middle class. Meanwhile Montara Mountain and others hold larger collectives.

The West Coast Packs Alliance raise wolves and turn them into Dire Wolves to gift to their allies, sell as elite guards, to allied vampire clans who get the next best deals, then outcasts and finally charging humans out the nose. This is not their only means of making money but it is a major one.

Their mountain homes are surrounded by large, spiked silver gates and walls, as well as armed guards, creating a clear dividing line between those deemed inhuman, their human allies and everyone else.

Residents of the mountains also cannot vote in local elections, and if they wish to must cut themselves off entirely and become citizens of the USA rather than its "territories".

The relationship with police and locals can be rather tense, and werewolves are taught never to show their teeth or nails in public lest they be deemed a threat and attacked, arrested or shot. They also still have strong ties to surviving and in some cases thriving Lycan clans in areas like the Balkans, as well as are part of a wider Lycan Lunar Society that have yearly conventions in different countries.

The Lycan Legion is a self defense organization made up of many Lycan community members. Its influence on their society is seen in the prevalence of what are essentially boot camps for young Lycan. Even those who struggled to transform such as Enid Sinclair still learned some degree of martial arts in these places in their youth. (Check the Wiki, its on her skill list XD)

Facets like these larger scale organizations and meet ups are also true for vampires and Covens (The Coven Convention) but less so for Gorgons and Sirens, but these have become more common in recent centuries due to political necessity. Though these are usually more meet ups between small collectives of powerful or well connected members of the respective species and their allies.

Similarly, there are many Outcast Collective events, often with intense secrecy and security details in case of Monsters Hunters.

There can also at times be rivalries between these factions, though it rarely amounts to more than political scheming or duels. It can sometimes evolve into some variation of a Turf war, or none linear war, but this is incredibly rare and much loathed by the wider community.

Monster Hunters: As discussed before, Monster Hunters are those who hate the Supernatural for one reason or another.

Some, especially the more modern groups will outlaw the use of supernatural elements at all they deem unnatural. Thus using silver bullets and blades but not spells or charms. Most though use a mixture of magic, machine and even martial arts.

As the motives of these groups can often vary wildly, from religious extremists, to rank bigotry, or personal trauma (Real or otherwise) there is not 'as' much communication as one might expect. Especially if there are ideological disagreements regarding magic or methods.

Most governments have deals with their Outcast communities that if Hunters attack then on their own land the matter will be ignored, provided it does not become public. Self defense outside their lands however, will usually see the Monster Hunter framed in the right and the Outcast arrested or put down, assuming they survived long enough for trial.

Despite this, at times Monster Hunters will even work with Outcasts if their targets align, though this is rare, especially in the modern day. Such alliances however usually end with one side all dead, or both sides all dead.

Laurel Gates attack on Nevermore is considered by many Monster Hunters to have been brave, bold and tragic for its failure.

The main reason such an attack had not happened before is because, many in the Supernatural community do have the connections and resources and skills to potentially target and violently uproot many Monster Hunter organizations if they were willing to risk the ire of their governments.

What's more there are often spies seeking such groups and security to be called in upon their arrival at locations like Nevermore. This is another reason why Laurel Gates had to work through an Outcast and in such secrecy. To avoid swarms of Outcast inspectors and even well paid human agents from being called in and destroying her plans.

#Wednesday #Wednesday Addams #wednesday netflix #Wednesday World Building #Sinclair Pack #Sinclair Family #San Francisco Pack #World building #Text Post #Headcnon

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