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into-the-daniverse · 9 hours
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Don’t ask for me for the rest of the week because I’m just going to be staring at them nonstop no blinking
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into-the-daniverse · 19 hours
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I’m not romancing Gale this play through but god does this make me want to 😭
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into-the-daniverse · 19 hours
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𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 & 𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥
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into-the-daniverse · 7 days
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HERE HE ISSSS MY SON (twice my age) MY PRECIOUS BARD
I’ve only played a few hours so far but I’m so excited this is amazing
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into-the-daniverse · 30 days
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sorry he bit you. It’s his coping mechanism
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into-the-daniverse · 3 months
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angels can be transgender but in the sense of like. hey i wish i had a body. hey i wish i wasn't made of light i wish i had flesh and blood. like you. i wish i had skin, i wish i had eyes. i wish i could tan. i wish i could get a tattoo. i wish i could be marked by the things that affected me, instead of being immortal and pure and unblemished. i wish i could show it. i wish i didn't have to go into battle and come out without a scratch, i wish i could fall and i wish i could scrape my knee. oh shit
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into-the-daniverse · 6 months
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Had to express this somehow
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into-the-daniverse · 6 months
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into-the-daniverse · 7 months
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[Hanfu · 漢服]Chinese Tang Dynasty Hanfu Photoshoots
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📸Photo:朱山尽_ 💄 Makeup:@南夕叙 ​​​ 🔗Weibo:https://weibo.com/6906018733/Nb2eJyNoq ————————
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into-the-daniverse · 7 months
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i love the horrors of love i love it when love transforms people and changes them for the worse as much as for the better i love it when people do things for love that they never would have even allowed themselves to consider otherwise i love it when we see a loving relationship from an outside perspective and it's terrible and frightening i love it when love makes monsters of people
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into-the-daniverse · 7 months
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into-the-daniverse · 7 months
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the most handsome elven prince in the kingdom has just been trampled to death by an ordinary woodlands rabbit
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into-the-daniverse · 7 months
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Here In Your Perfect Eyes | Astarion x Jamil (Male Tav OC)
Summary: Astarion and Jamil get an evening to relax away from the rest of their party, soft conversations and charged make-out session included Word Count: 1,564 Title taken from: Chasing Cars (the Tommee Profitt and Fleurie version) Note: I think this would take place in Act 3? But there's nothing spoilery here, just vibes
Sitting down on the rickety inn bed with a groan, Jamil started to pull his shirt over his head to get dressed to sleep, grunting when his hair caught on a button. He floundered around for a moment, trying to get his arms free, and when he succeeded, he began to disentangle his hair, humming absentmindedly. He thought he heard something move in the room, but ignored it until he finally managed to detach his hair from the button and finish pulling the shirt off.
“Aha!” He laughed at himself as he tossed the shirt away, and then realized he wasn’t the only one laughing. Looking up, his warm green eyes met striking red ones, even more striking in the moonlight, and he smiled watching Astarion laugh. Even if it was at his expense. He waited a moment, and then raised a dark eyebrow accusingly. “You weren’t going to help me?”
“Oh, but of course.” The sharp curve of his lips said the opposite. “I was just waiting to see how long it would take for you to give up.” Astarion made his way slowly to the bed, stopping just in front of Jamil. Holding his gaze, Jamil spread his legs a little, just enough for Astarion to step closer, standing between Jamil’s thighs.
Jamil’s hands came to rest on Astarion’s hips, thumbs toying with the hem of his shirt, dipping under to touch smooth skin. “And if I had?”
Cool hands rested on Jamil’s shoulders, Astarion staring down at him, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Well, I would have liked to hear you beg me to help you.”
Jamil laughed through his nose, pulling Astarion even closer. “Oh, is that all?”
“Of course not. Finding you in a compromising position is a devastatingly rare chance, sweet. Do you think I’d squander it with just getting to hear you beg once?”
“Why don’t you tell me then?” Jamil’s hand began to slide up Astarion’s back, pushing his shirt up with the motion, and he heard the smallest gasp escape the elf’s mouth. “Everything you’d do.” His voice rumbled low in his chest, and with satisfaction he noticed a quiver in Astarion’s lips, the way his gaze darkened just a little.
Astarion’s hands moved up Jamil’s shoulders to rest under his jaw, fingertips playing with loose waves of Jamil’s hair. “The things I’d do to you…” His eyes flitted all over Jamil’s face, taking in all of his features like he was studying them to commit to memory. He dragged his thumb over the edge of Jamil’s jawline, savoring the feeling of Jamil’s beard under it. Jamil closed his eyes just long enough to lean into his touch before looking back up at him, gaze more intense than before. Astarion let out a shuddering breath. “Gods.”
Jamil chuckled. “It’s not like you to be at a loss for words.”
“Hm.” Astarion’s smile faded a bit. “Somehow, even after all those years of practice, my normal, natural, charmseems to disappear when I’m with you.”
“I still find you perfectly charming.”
Astarion didn’t reply right away, and it made Jamil pause, taking in the sudden sorrow in his lover’s eyes. All of his normal teasing from before was gone, replaced with something else, something quieter. He spoke softly in return. “What is it, my love?”
“I just… you just…” Astarion sighed, cupping Jamil’s face in his hands. “Sometimes, darling, I think you’re too perfect. Sickeningly so.” He hesitated before brushing Jamil’s hair back from his face with one hand. “And yet…”
“I’m here.”
“Yes. And it’s… hard to get used to. But I want to.” He sighed; eyes glassy in the dim moonlight. “And then I think about how one day you won’t be here. Not of your own choice, I know that. But… death, death doesn’t care. And after getting used to you, what will I do on my own?” His breath caught in his throat, but before Jamil could speak, he shook his head. “I’ve never felt… well, anything, like this in all my life. And knowing how it feels, it makes me want to be incredibly selfish and just keep you, forever. But I can’t.”
Jamil’s vision blurred at the edges; tears welling up. His own voice broke as he replied: “What use is it thinking about that now, love, when we have all this time to spend until then?”
“I’ve been surrounded by death for 200 years—it’s hard to think of anything but.”
Jamil took one of his hands from Astarion’s waist to place over the hand on his cheek. Slowly, he pulled Astarion’s hand towards his lips, and pressed a kiss to his palm. “Should I distract you?” he whispered, partly pleading for him to agree. “I could think of a few ways to give you something else to focus on.”
A gentle laugh ruffled his hair, and Astarion gave him a small smile. “Oh, I’m quite sure you could. In fact, I’ve grown to depend on it. On… you.” He leaned down, and Jamil closed his eyes as Astarion kissed his forehead, then his temple, then his cheek, stopping right at Jamil’s lips. “It’s… terrifying.”
Jamil opened his eyes just enough to be able to see Astarion when he kissed the corner of his mouth, murmuring against his skin, “is it?”
Astarion slung his leg over Jamil’s, straddling his thigh instead of standing over him. Now they were at eye level, or just about, with Astarion just slightly lower. Jamil’s hands found their place on Astarion’s hips again, and Astarion wrapped his arms over Jamil’s shoulders, his hands tangling in Jamil’s hair. Before either of them could say anything else, Astarion kissed Jamil, fully, and he kissed him back. Their fingers dug into each other, neither wanting to let go, or even to give up an inch of the space they held.
When Astarion pulled his head back, they were both a little short of breath, and he stayed close enough for their noses to brush together, still entirely in each other’s space, making it theirs. “Maybe…” he laughed through his nose, looking up through his thick, white eyelashes at Jamil. “Maybe exhilarating would have been a better word.”
A small smile pulled at Jamil’s lips, and he kissed Astarion again with more passion than before, pushing against him to make him lean back, supported by Jamil’s hands. “I like that,” Jamil said when they broke apart, his voice even lower. “You’re exhilarating too, you know.”
Astarion’s grip in Jamil’s hair was tight, but not enough that it would hold him up if Jamil let go. Looking up at Jamil, he rolled his eyes, mirroring his smile. “Well, obviously.” 
The way his lips stayed parted after he spoke, how his eyes flickered back down to Jamil’s lips, and the shift of his hips in Jamil’s hands all told him that Astarion was ready to move on from the heavy talk of the evening, at least for now.
Jamil was ready to give into him. He leaned down, past Astarion’s waiting lips to kiss the scars on his neck, the puncture wounds that would never fade. He rested his dull, human teeth to his skin, imagining what it would feel like to feed how Astarion fed on him. 
“Darling.” Astarion’s voice was a quiet plea, a hundred words contained in that one alone. Jamil could understand all of them. He didn’t even need the second—a strained, desperate, “please.”
He bit down, hard enough to bruise, and Astarion let out a noise halfway between a moan and a sob, his fingernails scratching at Jamil’s scalp as he tightened his grip even more in his hair. Jamil left a kiss over the bite before moving further down, biting Astarion’s shoulder, nipping at his collarbone, each point of contact rewarded by the soft noises that continued to spill past Astarion’s lips, his legs trembling on either side of Jamil’s thigh.
When Jamil couldn’t go any further with Astarion’s shirt still on, he surged back up to capture his lips, kissing him deeply, both of them panting into the other’s mouth. He moved his hands from Astarion’s waist to grip his ass instead, and Astarion gasped as he was lifted up off of Jamil’s leg, Jamil standing and taking him along. Still kissing him, Jamil turned to face the bed and laid Astarion down on it, his hands starting to work on removing Astarion’s clothes. When they had to break apart for the shirt to come off, Jamil took advantage of the moment to look at him.
White hair tousled, lips kissed red, pale chest rising and falling with his quick breaths; Jamil thought he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His own breath shook as he whispered, “I love you,” like it was the most precious secret in the world.
Astarion’s eyes were wet again, but he gave Jamil a rare, soft smile. One that said almost more than the “darling” before had. It emanated peace, happiness, love. It was all the response he needed, but as he was known to do, Astarion surprised him by also cupping Jamil’s face in his hands and pulling him down into another kiss. 
They melted into each other, Jamil pressing them both into the sheets, where they were content to stay for the rest of the night and into the morning.
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into-the-daniverse · 7 months
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Here In Your Perfect Eyes | Astarion x Jamil (Male Tav OC)
Summary: Astarion and Jamil get an evening to relax away from the rest of their party, soft conversations and charged make-out session included Word Count: 1,564 Title taken from: Chasing Cars (the Tommee Profitt and Fleurie version) Note: I think this would take place in Act 3? But there's nothing spoilery here, just vibes
Sitting down on the rickety inn bed with a groan, Jamil started to pull his shirt over his head to get dressed to sleep, grunting when his hair caught on a button. He floundered around for a moment, trying to get his arms free, and when he succeeded, he began to disentangle his hair, humming absentmindedly. He thought he heard something move in the room, but ignored it until he finally managed to detach his hair from the button and finish pulling the shirt off.
“Aha!” He laughed at himself as he tossed the shirt away, and then realized he wasn’t the only one laughing. Looking up, his warm green eyes met striking red ones, even more striking in the moonlight, and he smiled watching Astarion laugh. Even if it was at his expense. He waited a moment, and then raised a dark eyebrow accusingly. “You weren’t going to help me?”
“Oh, but of course.” The sharp curve of his lips said the opposite. “I was just waiting to see how long it would take for you to give up.” Astarion made his way slowly to the bed, stopping just in front of Jamil. Holding his gaze, Jamil spread his legs a little, just enough for Astarion to step closer, standing between Jamil’s thighs.
Jamil’s hands came to rest on Astarion’s hips, thumbs toying with the hem of his shirt, dipping under to touch smooth skin. “And if I had?”
Cool hands rested on Jamil’s shoulders, Astarion staring down at him, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Well, I would have liked to hear you beg me to help you.”
Jamil laughed through his nose, pulling Astarion even closer. “Oh, is that all?”
“Of course not. Finding you in a compromising position is a devastatingly rare chance, sweet. Do you think I’d squander it with just getting to hear you beg once?”
“Why don’t you tell me then?” Jamil’s hand began to slide up Astarion’s back, pushing his shirt up with the motion, and he heard the smallest gasp escape the elf’s mouth. “Everything you’d do.” His voice rumbled low in his chest, and with satisfaction he noticed a quiver in Astarion’s lips, the way his gaze darkened just a little.
Astarion’s hands moved up Jamil’s shoulders to rest under his jaw, fingertips playing with loose waves of Jamil’s hair. “The things I’d do to you…” His eyes flitted all over Jamil’s face, taking in all of his features like he was studying them to commit to memory. He dragged his thumb over the edge of Jamil’s jawline, savoring the feeling of Jamil’s beard under it. Jamil closed his eyes just long enough to lean into his touch before looking back up at him, gaze more intense than before. Astarion let out a shuddering breath. “Gods.”
Jamil chuckled. “It’s not like you to be at a loss for words.”
“Hm.” Astarion’s smile faded a bit. “Somehow, even after all those years of practice, my normal, natural, charmseems to disappear when I’m with you.”
“I still find you perfectly charming.”
Astarion didn’t reply right away, and it made Jamil pause, taking in the sudden sorrow in his lover’s eyes. All of his normal teasing from before was gone, replaced with something else, something quieter. He spoke softly in return. “What is it, my love?”
“I just… you just…” Astarion sighed, cupping Jamil’s face in his hands. “Sometimes, darling, I think you’re too perfect. Sickeningly so.” He hesitated before brushing Jamil’s hair back from his face with one hand. “And yet…”
“I’m here.”
“Yes. And it’s… hard to get used to. But I want to.” He sighed; eyes glassy in the dim moonlight. “And then I think about how one day you won’t be here. Not of your own choice, I know that. But… death, death doesn’t care. And after getting used to you, what will I do on my own?” His breath caught in his throat, but before Jamil could speak, he shook his head. “I’ve never felt… well, anything, like this in all my life. And knowing how it feels, it makes me want to be incredibly selfish and just keep you, forever. But I can’t.”
Jamil’s vision blurred at the edges; tears welling up. His own voice broke as he replied: “What use is it thinking about that now, love, when we have all this time to spend until then?”
“I’ve been surrounded by death for 200 years—it’s hard to think of anything but.”
Jamil took one of his hands from Astarion’s waist to place over the hand on his cheek. Slowly, he pulled Astarion’s hand towards his lips, and pressed a kiss to his palm. “Should I distract you?” he whispered, partly pleading for him to agree. “I could think of a few ways to give you something else to focus on.”
A gentle laugh ruffled his hair, and Astarion gave him a small smile. “Oh, I’m quite sure you could. In fact, I’ve grown to depend on it. On… you.” He leaned down, and Jamil closed his eyes as Astarion kissed his forehead, then his temple, then his cheek, stopping right at Jamil’s lips. “It’s… terrifying.”
Jamil opened his eyes just enough to be able to see Astarion when he kissed the corner of his mouth, murmuring against his skin, “is it?”
Astarion slung his leg over Jamil’s, straddling his thigh instead of standing over him. Now they were at eye level, or just about, with Astarion just slightly lower. Jamil’s hands found their place on Astarion’s hips again, and Astarion wrapped his arms over Jamil’s shoulders, his hands tangling in Jamil’s hair. Before either of them could say anything else, Astarion kissed Jamil, fully, and he kissed him back. Their fingers dug into each other, neither wanting to let go, or even to give up an inch of the space they held.
When Astarion pulled his head back, they were both a little short of breath, and he stayed close enough for their noses to brush together, still entirely in each other’s space, making it theirs. “Maybe…” he laughed through his nose, looking up through his thick, white eyelashes at Jamil. “Maybe exhilarating would have been a better word.”
A small smile pulled at Jamil’s lips, and he kissed Astarion again with more passion than before, pushing against him to make him lean back, supported by Jamil’s hands. “I like that,” Jamil said when they broke apart, his voice even lower. “You’re exhilarating too, you know.”
Astarion’s grip in Jamil’s hair was tight, but not enough that it would hold him up if Jamil let go. Looking up at Jamil, he rolled his eyes, mirroring his smile. “Well, obviously.” 
The way his lips stayed parted after he spoke, how his eyes flickered back down to Jamil’s lips, and the shift of his hips in Jamil’s hands all told him that Astarion was ready to move on from the heavy talk of the evening, at least for now.
Jamil was ready to give into him. He leaned down, past Astarion’s waiting lips to kiss the scars on his neck, the puncture wounds that would never fade. He rested his dull, human teeth to his skin, imagining what it would feel like to feed how Astarion fed on him. 
“Darling.” Astarion’s voice was a quiet plea, a hundred words contained in that one alone. Jamil could understand all of them. He didn’t even need the second—a strained, desperate, “please.”
He bit down, hard enough to bruise, and Astarion let out a noise halfway between a moan and a sob, his fingernails scratching at Jamil’s scalp as he tightened his grip even more in his hair. Jamil left a kiss over the bite before moving further down, biting Astarion’s shoulder, nipping at his collarbone, each point of contact rewarded by the soft noises that continued to spill past Astarion’s lips, his legs trembling on either side of Jamil’s thigh.
When Jamil couldn’t go any further with Astarion’s shirt still on, he surged back up to capture his lips, kissing him deeply, both of them panting into the other’s mouth. He moved his hands from Astarion’s waist to grip his ass instead, and Astarion gasped as he was lifted up off of Jamil’s leg, Jamil standing and taking him along. Still kissing him, Jamil turned to face the bed and laid Astarion down on it, his hands starting to work on removing Astarion’s clothes. When they had to break apart for the shirt to come off, Jamil took advantage of the moment to look at him.
White hair tousled, lips kissed red, pale chest rising and falling with his quick breaths; Jamil thought he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His own breath shook as he whispered, “I love you,” like it was the most precious secret in the world.
Astarion’s eyes were wet again, but he gave Jamil a rare, soft smile. One that said almost more than the “darling” before had. It emanated peace, happiness, love. It was all the response he needed, but as he was known to do, Astarion surprised him by also cupping Jamil’s face in his hands and pulling him down into another kiss. 
They melted into each other, Jamil pressing them both into the sheets, where they were content to stay for the rest of the night and into the morning.
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into-the-daniverse · 7 months
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*manifesting dilfs wearing nothing but an open bathrobe*
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into-the-daniverse · 7 months
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into-the-daniverse · 7 months
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BG3 Tav Introduction | Jamil D'Oria
I have... about twelve other things I should be doing, most of them grad school related but the tadpole speaks to me and I must answer so here's some information I've been scrounging together for my Tav
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commissions from jilljoycearts and molliartsie
Jamil (Alfonso Parsa) D'Oria, 41, with a noble background and member of the bard class, from the College of Lore
I've been developing him as an OC for about three years now and he is my beloved boy (even though he's about twice my age lmao)
Alignment: Neutral Good? with a bit of chaos sprinkled in there maybe
Gender/Sexuality: Gay man, he/him
Astrological Signs: Leo Sun, Pisces Moon, Pisces Rising
Romancing: Astarion. Of course.
I'm thinking he would be very close with Wyll prior to the game plotline or shortly into it just based on their similar upbringings
I do not know any DnD lore and I am currently not able to get a crash course in it so if anything I say about him contradicts it, don't tell me <3
Some fun facts about him!
Oldest of three siblings, has a younger brother Hakim and younger sister Eufemia
Part of a huge family on his mother's side, the D'Oria are an ancient established family with many many family members
He doesn't get along with his mother and travels as much as possible to avoid going home and back to his duties as the oldest son, however at this point she's all but disowned him and focuses on Hakim instead
His instrument of choice is a guitar gifted to him by his favorite aunt when he was a teenager that he would protect over his own life
Trained in sword-fighting as a teenager/young adult with his uncle, a world-renowned swordsman
Makes his own clothes more often than not
Technically needs glasses especially when it comes to reading and seeing at night, but refuses to wear them
Has a very friendly disposition that most people might assume is learned from years of nobility events, but he's just genuinely kind
Is not great with any kind of magic on his own, but can be used as a channel for others' magic
However, he has almost supernatural luck, which tends to rub off on those he spends the most time with after a while
Anyway, here he is, hopefully this will soothe the tadpole for a bit until I can sit down to write fic for him and Astarion
Some more art of him under the cut!
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commission from hirodraga
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commission from jilljoycearts
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