#my thirst for their stories is endless

[writers-potion]

Could you give any advice for "descriptive" writing of any scene or action scenes or mapping out the scenery (Mountains, forests, streets etc) - i believe this is a struggle for Non-English speaking writers due to lack of vast vocabulary.

Common Scenery Description Tips

Vocabulary is clearly an important part of description, but it doesn’t have to be a limit. The most important thing about description in fiction is picking the right details to mention:

How does the details add to the mood of the story? A mountain ridge will be dark, gray and foggy if the overall mood is meant to be mysterious/brooding. In contrast, a mountain can be brilliantly snow-capped, lush green and “smiling down” upon the character if they’re out for a light stroll.

How are the contrasts/complementary aspects being brought out?

Are you using the five senses? You can even combine the senses, ie. blue ringing of the church bells

(If you have the POV character) what 

Some other tips for setting description:

Use similes and metaphors. Creative figures of speech always get my attention as a reader. 

Mention story-specific elements. For example, “The sky was the shade of Zoes’ eyes” or “the mountains looked like a group of trolls sleeping on one another” 

Be concise. Today’s readers don’t want to read paragraphs and paragraphs about one landscape. Outline the larger elements in the scene, their location and general mood. Add some details, then move on. 

If the same location appears multiple times, differentiate the description little by little as you write, instead of trying to lay out one scene in too much detail at once. 

That said, here are some helpful words/phrases:

Forests/Mountains

Color: bone-white, phantom-white, hazy gray

Sound: rumbling, booming grumbling, bellowing clapping, trundling, growling, thundering

Shape: crinkled, crumpled, knotted, grizzled, rumpled, wrinkled, craggy, jagged, gnarled, rugose  

Action: sky-punching/stabbing/piercing/spearing, heaven-touching/kissing, snow-cloaked/hooded/wreathed/festooned

Sloping sides, sharp/rounded ridges, high point/peak/summit

Majestic, gargantuan humbling, vast, massive, titanic, towering, monumental, mighty, vast, humbling

Mountains having faces, etc. 

Seas

Color: blue-green, crystal-clear crystalline, emerald, frothy, hazy, glistening, pristine, turquoise

Size: boundless, abyssal, fathomless, unconquerable, vast, wondrous

Sound: billowing, blustering, bombastic

Action: boisterous, agitated, angry, biting, breaking, brazen. Churning, bubbling, changing, brooding, calm, convulsing, enticing erratic, fierce, tempestuous, turbulent, undulating

Alluring, blissful, betwitching, breezy, captivating, chaotic, chilly, elemental, disorienting

Deserts

Sight: A landscape of sand, flat, harsh sunlight, cacti, tumbleweeds, dust devils, cracked land, crumbing rock, sandstone, canyons, wind-worn rock formations, tracks, dead grasses, vibrant desert blooms (after rainfall), flash flooding, dry creek

Sounds: Wind (whistling, howling, piping, tearing, weaving, winding, gusting), birds cawing, flapping, squawking, the fluttering shift of feasting birds, screeching eagles, the sound of one’s own steps, heavy silence, baying wild dogs

Smell: Arid air, dust, one’s own sweat and body odor, dry baked earth, carrion

Touch: Torrid heat, sweat, cutting wind, cracked lips, freezing cold (night) hard packed ground, rocks, gritty sand, shivering, swiping away dirt and sweat, pain from split lips and dehydration, numbness in legs, heat/pain from sun stroke, clothes…

Taste: Grit, dust, dry mouth & tongue, warm flat canteen water, copper taste in mouth, bitter taste of insects for eating, stringy wild game (hares, rats) the tough saltiness of hardtack, biscuits or jerky, an insatiable thirst or hunger

Streets

Dusty, fume-filled, foul, sumptuous, broad, bucolic, decayed, mournful, seemingly endless, empty, unpaved, lifeless, dreadfully genteel, muddy, nondescript, residential/retail

Bleach, flimsy, silent, narrow, crooked, furrowed, smoggy, commonplace, tumbledown, treeless, shady

The blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles.

The streets absorbed the emotions in the air, the city as the steady and reassuring mother.

The streets were a marriage of sounds, from bicycle wheels to chattering.

In the refreshing light of early daytime, the streets had the hues of artistic dreamtime, soft yet bold pastels.

Cobbled streets flowed as happy rivers in sunlight.

Parties

Some extra tips for locations like parties, where lots of action is going around practically everywhere:

Focus on the important characters - where they are, who they’re with. 

Provide some overall description of the structure of the party scene (a pool, a two-storey house with yard?), then move on to details. 

Don’t try to describe everything. 

whirlwind of laughter and music, a symphony of joyous chaos.

It was a gathering that shimmered with the glow of twinkling lights and echoed with the rhythm of dancing feet.

The air was alive with excitement, buzzing with conversations and the clink of glasses.

Every corner held a story waiting to unfold, a moment waiting to be captured in memory.

It was a tapestry of colors, a mosaic of faces, each adding their own brushstroke to the vibrant canvas of the night.

Laughter cascaded like a waterfall, infectious and unstoppable, filling the room with warmth.

The night was a carnival of senses, with aromas of delicious food mingling with the melodies that filled the air.

Time seemed to slip away in the whirl of the party, moments blending into each other like colors on a palette.

The energy of the crowd was electric, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, binding everyone in a shared moment of celebration.

It was a celebration of life, where worries faded into the background, and the present moment was all that mattered.

#writers and poets #writing #creative writing #writers on tumblr #creative writers #helping writers #let's write #poets and writers #writeblr #resources for writers #writing practice #writing prompt #writing community #writing advice #writing tips #on writing #writing inspiration #writer #writerscommunity #writers block #writer community #writblr #writers of tumblr #writers community #writers life #writer stuff

[loserdiaz]

no but i can't stop about eddie finding queering the map and being overwhelmed by the amount of stories that resonate with him.

it starts with buck, because of course it does.

buck comes into the station one day, rambling about this site he found online. he's still figuring out bisexuality for himself and has been going down a rabbit hole ever since, reading endless articles and reddit stories and experiences told from so many people.

and something about it, about this particular site, catches eddie's attention. he really can't stop thinking about it, wondering if people from el paso would have any of those pins. if anyone from the place he grew up in, was raised in, ever felt like him.

he can't stop wondering if maybe he was never as alone as he thought he was.

when he gets home, he decides to look for himself— it takes him a while. there's too many black pins and he doesn't quite know how to navigate the huge map on his screen. it takes him a few minutes to get the hang of it.

but when he does— oh, when he does.

right there in el paso, people from the same streets he once rode his bike in, are sharing his experiences. fellow soldiers in the same base eddie trained at.

eddie reads these sacred, secret little messages and feels his heart expand more and more with every each one of them.

some of them makes him laugh and chuckle, teary eyed but amused, like "even the army has gays," and "from one gay cowboy to another."

others, nake him falter. make his bretah hitch inside his chest. make something beautiful and fragile and orecious uncurl from the deepest depths of his soul. make him feel seen in a way he isn't sure he's quite ready to.

messages like— "you're not the only one," and "you'll be okay." "the heaven the people from this town speak of, is not a heaven i wanna be sent to." "i should've told him when i had the chance." "stuck in a warzone, thinking about how i wasted so much time and now i might not make it home to him."

messages that hit a little too close to home. from soldiers still in the closet, struggling to accept themselves and living a lie.

messages from dumb teenagers, scared of the future— just like eddie had been once.

messages from people braver than he ever could be, sharing the stories of how they came out to their families and moved across the country to be able to live their truest selves.

eddie spends hours and hours just reading post after post, goingbthrough as many lins as he can and drinking them in as a dying, thirsting man in the middle of the driest desert. he reads until the light from the comouter makes his head hurt and his eyes burn everytime he blinks.

at the end, before closing the tab, he decides to put on his own note.

📍not sure if I'll ever be ready to say it out loud, but I love him. i'm too late. I've lost my chance. this changes nothing, my heart is still in his hands.

he clicks on add and feels the tiniest amount of weight lifting from his shoulders.

#i.... don't know what's this tbh #queering the map #eddie diaz #buddie #kinda #evan buckley #911 abc #911 on abc #april writes #my writing #911 ficlet #911 fic #buddie ficlet #buddie fic

[lex-the-flex]

Darker Than Wine

Astarion x Mortal! reader

Summary: In the ruined castle, the King silently rules over all that is dark and unnatural. Shrouded in the endless mysteries of his cruel abilities, he hungers for something stronger than wine.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning(s): Moments of fluff, Astarion being a true lover/King, (spoiling the reader), established relationship, Astarion and the reader opening up, brief alcohol consumption, 18+ – PURE SMUT, basic porn with little plot lol, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), loss of virginity, oral (f! receiving), HEAVY vampirism, blood, descriptions of injuries, and brief moments of pain.

A/N: From what I've seen from BG3, I'm absolutely IN LOVE with Astarion and Neil's incredible voice acting! Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

A defining silence takes over the once great castle, inviting only superstitions and ghost stories to walk through the grand halls. Memories of the past overtook the ruins of Cazador's Palace and were replaced with newer, happier ones. But only behind closed doors.

On the outside however, the various village occupants did not dare to enter through the large doors, in fear of the cruel King who sat on his throne, ruling over nothing but darkness.

Hiding in the shadows, The Pale Elf accomplished all, and he achieved this with a mortal by his side. Except there was one problem: he thirsted for something more greater than wine.

The library's cozy atmosphere brought an inviting sense of serenity by the warmth of the infinite fireplace. Sitting on a lounge chair, you tried to focus on a new novel from the seemingly endless bookshelves containing sheltered and well-preserved books from the two hundred years of your husband and his master’s adventures long before you were born. 

Taking another sip from your wine glass, the tart dark liquid helps you focus, but only for a millisecond. Scrunching your eyebrows together, you tried to get back into the book, but another presence from the far corner of the room distracts you once more. 

“You’re staring again, Astarion.” You announced, closing your book and leaving your place bookmarked with your finger. 

Turning to face him, his silver orbs glow in the darkness, before returning to his normal red. 

“It just comes naturally, dear. Especially in your soothing presence.” Astarion replies, walking to the chair. 

Cupping your face from behind, Astarion leans down and meets your lips for a small kiss. 

“Mm, delectable. You know I’ll never get used to this.” He says with a smile. 

“Well, we are married after all. So you might have too.” You reply, setting your book down.

"And yet I still don't know what comes next. But as long as you're here, we can truly accomplish anything, Y/N." Astarion says, walking around to face you.

Closing his arms around you, he lowers his chin to your shoulder, never getting tired of your embrace. Silently shaking in his touch, your breath hitches between your pink lips. Taking your arms in his hands, Astarion faces you with a wave of concern emerging in every corner of his face.

"You're shaking. Is everything alright, darling?" He asks, gently stroking your cheek.

"Everything's fine. I promise, it's just..." You start, but mumble with your answer.

"But what? It was Araj again, wasn't it? She said something to you." Astarion assumes, and a wave of rage begins to boil in his blood.

"No, it wasn't Araj, I swear. I'd like to--" You try again, but can't.

"You'd what?" Astarion continues, leaning his forehead to yours, hoping to calm your nerves.

"I'd like to do what we talked about. Finally making our marriage real ...and holding up my end of our deal." You explain, swallowing your embarrassment.

Taking in your confession, Astarion overcomes his tiny state of shock.

"I don't want to hurt you, but I'd love to, darling." He whispers, hesitant to give you an answer.

“Are you sure?” You ask, sliding your hands to his shoulders.

“I’ve never wanted anything more for the last two years.” He replies, pressing his lips to yours.

*****

Guiding you back to the dark space of your shared private chambers, Astarion swung his cape from his shoulders, tossing it to a nearby wardrobe chest. Cupping your jawline with both hands, he passionately kissed you in the dimly lit room, carefully backing you towards the large bed. 

Carefully removing your dress, Astarion’s fingers graze around the curves of your hips before reaching your waistline, desperately ready to have you. Throwing the piece of fabric back into the room, you playfully gasped at the action, to which he replied with his signature smirk. 

“We can always buy you another one, dear.” Astarion said, just as he began removing his boots.

Taking off the remainder of his ebony robes, Astarion lifts you in his touch, gently laying you down. Tracing his lips over your shoulders, you gasped at his softness. 

“Astarion?” You asked, lifting your head to face him.

“Yes, my love?” He replied, giving you his full attention.

“…Go slow, please.” You hesitated, shyly squeezing his shoulder. 

A brief pause filled the air whilst he instantly knew what you meant. 

“Oh, then this’ll be delicious.” He teased, smirking at your request.

Descending your body, Astarion sank to his knees before continuing up your nude form with sweet, yet feverish kisses. Gliding his way down to your inner thighs, his lips ran along the sensitive skin, before parting your folds with his tongue, earning himself your first real moan.

“That’s it, darling. Don’t hide your lust from me.” Astarion instructed as he held your hips down. 

Gathering your bundle of nerves in his mouth, his tongue pushes past your entrance. Swirling around your ecstasy, and he took his time eating you out before you eventually came all over his tongue. Collecting yourself, the stars in your eyes faded and you were greeted by the sight of Astarion hovering above you. 

“You alright?” He asked, observing your current state. 

“More than alright.” You answered with a quick giggle. 

“Excellent.” He smiled, then guided your legs around his hips. 

Aligning himself with your dripping folds, Astarion teased you with his erect tip, prepping you to take all of him. Pushing his manhood past your entrance, you both moaned together at this feeling. Slowly moving his hips against your own, Astarion heeded your wishes, and took in your lust that was clogging his lungs. 

Grazing his teeth over the flesh of collarbones, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, prompting him to continue. Astarion’s sharp fangs teased your ticklish skin, forcing a layer of goosebumps to rise up. Feeling the rhythm of your pulse in his pointed ears, he enjoyed the pounding pace of your heartbeat one last time before thrusting deeper into you. 

Following in time with his thrusts, your hands slid down to his ass, and your shared moans became music to his ears. Feeling a heat rising in the pit of your stomach, you tensed at this sensation, but your husband was right there to guide you. 

Your walls tightened around Astarion’s cock which made him see stars beneath his red eyes. A growl emerged from his chest and he quickened his pace, riding out your orgasm with love and adoration. Finishing after you, you both held your sweaty and exhausted bodies closer just as rays of sunlight pierced through the gaps in the curtains. 

Collecting you in his arms, Astarion sat you on his lap, giving you reassuring kisses along the way. Running your fingers through his hair, you traced your fingers along Astarion’s eyebrows and jawline, humming at his eternal beauty, 

“If you were to do this, Y/N, there’s no going back. You’d be leaving your mortal life behind. Are you sure you want this?” He asks with a bit of sadness in his eyes. 

“I’m sure. This is what I want, and I want it with you.” You replied, running your fingers through his hair. 

Nodding at your decision, Astarion lowered his lips to your chest, pressing kisses to your bare breasts. Rolling his tongue around your nipples, he tugged on your breasts with his teeth before letting go with a satisfying pop. Trailing up to your collarbones, the echo of your pulse rang in his Elven ears, causing them to tingle. 

The sharpness of his fangs gilded against your neck, tickling your throat as Astarion gathered you in his arms and bit down on your flesh. Sinking his teeth into your warm skin, he ravished in the taste of blood. The sweetness drove him mad and he took what he desired. The sounds of your voice brought him back, Astarion continued and carefully bit his own wrist before encasing your lips around the small wound. 

Drinking in his blood, Astarion gently laid you back down, and watched you transform into your new vampire body, giving you the most beautiful pair of crimson eyes he’d ever seen. 

tagging ~

@dreamliners

@violetthecreator

@the-resident-vampire

@bitten-by-astarion

@loveandfictionforall

@tripleyeeet

@macabre-mangled

@demigoddessqueens

@sweatandwoe

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x y/n #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #the pale elf

[venussaidso]

𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧-𝐑𝐚𝐡𝐮-𝐊𝐞𝐭𝐮: 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦

the prominent themes of vampirism such as desire, hunger, mystery and illusions tie so perfectly with the moon and its nodes. it wasn't surprising to find the nodes dominating this genre the most, along with the luminaries (moon & sun nakshatras, but more fittingly the moon). i will not be touching on the few sun nakshatras playing vampires, as the moon makes far more sense symbolizing true vampiric nature.

So many vampire movie posters have this luminous glow to them, likely done consciously because of these creatures' affinity for nighttime, and generally being nocturnal as they're extremely sensitive to any type of sunlight.

I've once briefly mentioned, in my "Moon Dominant Themes" post, that lunar natives can operate very secretly, such as 'working in the shadows'. And the whole lore of vampires always emphasizes their ability to hide themselves while still living among humans.

Vampires undergoing periods of dormancy and resurgence is interesting as that can also be linked back to the moon's cycles of waxing & maning. The influence that the moon has on vampires, in some legends, is during certain lunar phases in which they become more active. A full moon could literally mean that their strength has enhanced, whilst a moonless night could mean their desire for blood is heightened.

Rohini Sun Colin Farrell

Claire Nakti explored, in her "TOP 3 Most Magical & Mystical Astrology Signs | Cults, Divination, & Occultism | Part 2 (Nakshatras)" documentary, on the ability of Moon nakshatra natives to brainwash/mind control/hypnotize.

daniel kaluuya is a hasta moon, not rohini.

As these natives are often cult leaders, their ability to influence the mind goes back to their lunar-rulership. The Moon rules over the mind, emotions and subconscious. A vampire's ability to hypnotize humans and other lesser beings is in parallel to the Moon's influence over the psyche and subconscious.

This illusory nature found in vampires can be connected to the shadow planet, Rahu. As Rahu is illusions, desire, hunger. Rahu is very seductive and tempting; this could tie back to some legends in which vampires lure their prey giving them promises of pleasure.

Ardra Sun Tom Cruise.

In "Interview with the Vampire", Tom Cruise plays Lestat who is an overindulgent, greedy vampire. Rahu governs desires and the pursuit of worldly pleasures. It's related to insatiable cravings that lead to greed. The lustful nature of Rahu is seen in Lestat's intense bloodlust and the chaos it brings.

Rahu's associations with eclipses relates to their ability of being hidden in the shadows. Another hint is in Rahu being a Shadow planet itself, just like Ketu is which is also related to vampires.

The story about Rahu's head getting decapitated by Vishnu for trying to get a drink out of the nectar of immortality can be brilliantly paralleled with vampirism. Due to Rahu's consumption of the drop of the nectar, he became the infamous dismembered immortal. His dismemberment a symbol of the detachment from humanity to vampirism.

Rahu is considered an entity of darkness and malevolence, preying upon cosmic forces and defying the natural order of things (such as vampirism which does defy nature itself, ie. the dead becoming undead) in pursuit for immortality. Vampires are literal parasites, and Rahu is also parasitical. Vampires feed on humans without providing any benefit in the ecosystem in return, a one-sided relationship which resembles one between a parasite and its host. Rahu is depicted as insatiable and consuming, feeding and draining one's energy. It creates a cycle of thirsting for more without any fulfillment, a predicament vampires find themselves in.

Ashwini Sun Luke Evans

Rahu and Ketu represent the lunar nodes, respectively depicted as the head and tail of the celestial serpent. Their energetic interaction can be likened to the endless chase between a vampire and a vampire hunter, villain and hero, the friction between unlikely lovers. It's obvious in how Rahu embodies the insatiable hunger for experiences and the craving for fulfillment that it can be the vampiric force in such a dynamic. Like a vampire, Rahu relentlessly pursues its desires, often leading to greed and excess. And then you have Ketu, on the other hand, which embodies detachment, spirituality, and liberation from worldly attachments. It quite literally symbolizes the renunciation of desires and the quest for enlightenment, opposing Rahu's restlessness for more. Ketu is a cutting force, and like a determined vampire hunter, is skilled in tracking down illusions and breaking free from temptations.

Although it sounds like a more fitting interplay between Rahu as the evil force and Ketu as the hunter, it's actually more seen in the other way around.

It is more so that Rahuvians are the vampire hunters, which I found so intriguing; showcasing how Rahu is both the parasitical (illusory), and also the one to be rid of parasites (disillusionment). And I have explored this particular theme in my Rahu post -- how Rahu natives experience a lot of disillusionment from their reality, wanting to cast away the illusions that drain the life force.

The reversal of roles showcases the fluidity of the nodes; their roles almost always expected to reverse, illustrating just how Rahu and Ketu are deeply intertwined with the concept of karma, representing the push-&-pull between cosmic forces of destiny.

More nodal-vampire movies, and other examples in which Rahu & Ketu find themselves on opposite sides of the same spectrum in which they are both vampires, similar to the friction seen between Louis (Ketu) and Lestat (Rahu) in "Interview with the Vampire".

In the film "Fright Night", the one who has to kill the villainous vampire is an Ashwini native. It is also interesting how in "Queen of the Damned" (above, right), the villain is a Magha native who must be stopped by her Mula lover -- both being vampires.

As mentioned in the figure image about the film "Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter", where a nodal-ruled native is paired up with someone who is lunar-ruled, this is a type of pairing seen a lot in these supernatural stories.

Similarly to "Twilight", as Edward was the one to turn Bella into a vampire, we see the planetary reversal of this in which the lunar-native is the one who turns the nodal-native.

Or the film "Vamps" in which Hasta Sun, Shatabhisha Moon native Alicia Silverstone turns Mula Sun, Magha Moon native Krysten Ritter into a vampire.

It isn't a surprise that the moon and its nodes are related to the extremities of the mind. These energies can cause isolation due to how polarizing they come off in regular society (furthermore validating its relation to vampirism), so they become attracted to one another -- especially the nodal natives to the moon natives, because of how much they feel magnetized by them, and vice versa.

The presence of some Sun nakshatras in vampire stories is present and that could tie to the Sun's influence over the Moon despite the fact that solar symbolisms regarding vampirism don't exist, and vampires are far too sensitive to the Sun so much so that they get sunburn during the full moon where the sun's light reflects (interesting to think about). The whole point of a vampire is to lurk in the shadows or during nighttime, so the strict avoidance of the Sun could make sense in there being solar-natives in vampiric roles. It makes for an interesting contradiction, certainly.

Ketu is the body of the severed demon Rahu following the consumption of the elixir. Much like Rahu, Ketu is also associated to darkness and illusions. But it symbolizes the darker, unseen aspects of reality -- all the hidden forces and energies as I've touched on in my Ketu exploration. Ketu and Rahu are two sides of the same coin, it isn't surprising to see them share many vampiric roles/stories.

Ketu is about spiritual liberation, detachment (in this context, becoming a vampire means a harsh detachment from normality/the old life), transcendence; these existential themes are found in vampirism.

The character Louis in "Interview with the Vampire" played by Mula Sun Brad Pitt describes his existential crisis as a vampire to a Magha Sun human who interviews him.

The enhanced strength, agility, speed, hearing and all these abilities are gained after the painful transformation process, going from human to vampire. This process is seen in the film "Interview with the Vampire", Mula Sun Brad Pitt's character going through excruciating pain when turning. My mind immediately takes me to Claire Nakti's first Mula nakshatra exploration, in which she touched on the interconnection of pain and evolution for access to more powers.

robert pattinson is an ardra moon, not sun. and i accidentally used jk rowling's face as l.j smith, ugh! 💔

Vampires are caught between worlds, trapped in a liminal space between life & death. Ketu can cause feelings of entrapment. The yearning for release from their eternal existence is a common theme, as Ketu wants to escape its body. Louis de Pointe du Lac is the best character as example of rejecting one's own nature and wanting to cease to exist.

Mula Sun Brad Pitt

nodals being so emo jfc

notes: colin farrell's birthtime accuracy is botched, he's definitely a mula ascendant. tom hiddleston stays a possible ashwini moon until he's not (until his birthtime is available and accurate).

#vampires #astrology #vedic astrology #sidereal astrology #nakshatra observations #jyotish #rahu #ketu #moon #ardra #swati #shatabhisha #ashwini #magha #mula #rohini #hasta #shravana #aries #gemini #leo #libra #sagitarrius #aquarius #taurus #virgo #capricorn #astro observations

[pennyblossom-meta]

Gale/Karlach banter

Similar to my previous post: Gale/Wyll banter.

Warning: VERY long post.

Because the dialogue lines are so many, I won't add screenshots in some sections.

I'll add more items from Gale's side either here on a separate post.

Update: added some more dialogue lines

Act 01

Gale intervenes on Karlach's behalf (currently impossible to trigger)

Gale: Easy, Wyll. She's no devil. There's no fight to be had here.

Recruiting Gale

Karlach: Well done getting the wizard on board. He can zap from afar while I smack up close. But if he tries to get me to read any tomes, I will scream. devnote: Context, Karlach does not like to read

Recruiting Karlach

Gale: An ally fresh from the Hells themselves. Our company grows stranger by the minute - and all the better for it.

If Wyll is the avatar

Gale: Hunting one devil, allying yourself with another. Our journey gets more curious by the second.

First night at camp

Karlach: Gale's pretty lost in his thoughts, isn't he. Poor guy. Roughing it like this can't be his style. devnote: Genuine empathy

—

Taking a walk through the forest

Gale: Nothing like a brisk stroll through the forest to invigorate the spirit. devnote: Brisk, invigorated Karlach: I was just thinking the same thing, but less poetically. devnote: dreamily Gale: And without so much as a stirring from our tadpoles. Karlach: A girl could get used to this. devnote: relieved and happy

—

Blighted Village

Karlach: Looks like this town was ransacked - by soldiers, if my eyes don't deceive me. Gale: Quite cruelly, too. Karlach: Must've been an awful day for the people who lived here. Gale: If nothing else, I hope it was a mercifully short one.

—

At the Grymforge

Gale: The architects who built this must have been remarkable. A pity their vision didn't stand the test of time. devnote: Observing, not sure what to make of it Karlach: All's not lost. I mean, just look at this place. devnote: Impressed with what she sees Gale: You've quite the knack for finding the bright side of things, haven't you? Karlach: Hope keeps you going.

—

Underdark

Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore

—

Act 02

Plains, near the Temple of Lathlander (or is this in Act 01?)

Gale: I don't suppose you've any clue where we are in relation to Waterdeep? Karlach: From this distance between Elturel and Baldur's Gate, I'd say... a long way away. devnote: dreamily Gale: Ah. That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky. Gale: No matter - what she doesn't know can't hurt her. Not at this distance, anyway. devnote: Black humour/finding the bright side

—

Mountain Pass

Karlach: Man, adventuring is thirsty work. Gale: There used to be a monastery in this region known for producing a wonderful ale. Karlach: That sounds like heaven! Wait. Used to? Gale: Oh, yes - long ruined, I'm afraid. No chance of a frothing pitcher awaiting us there, but still - at least your thirst for knowledge is quenched. Karlach: Ugh. devnote: Groaning at Gale's cringe joke

—

On the road to the Shadow Cursed lands

Gale: Do you feel that? A darkness, pulling at the strands of the Weave. devnote: Alert, sensing something Karlach: You'll still be able to do your wizard thing, though, right? Gale: Of course, but that doesn't make the shadows less dangerous. devnote: Reassuring Karlach, whiloe remaning concerned about the wider dangers Karlach: Joy. devnote: sarcasm

—

Shadow Cursed lands

Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh - that's just how things are. Grim humour to it Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

—

Last Light Inn, Shrine to Selûne

Gale: A hidden shrine, dedicated to the Moon Maiden herself. Even amidst this darkness, Selunites are stubborn enough to cling on. Karlach: Pretty beautiful, isn't it?

—

Tollhouse

Karlach: Whoa! Almost slipped there. Gale: You wouldn't be the first, I'd wager. It's been some time since these walkways felt the carpenter's hammer. Karlach: You gonna catch me if I eat a brick? Gale: With my reflexes? I'd catch you before you so much as stubbed a toe. devnote: Confident

—

Brewery

Karlach: Huh. A brewery. Why does Reithwin Ale ring a bell? Gale: It was known to be quite the tipple - a cask or two still exists, if you know the right alekeep... devnote: Enjoying being the expert on this. He definitely knows 'the right alekeep' Karlach: You must have good taste. Not me. Can't afford it. Gale: A common misconception. Even the simplest of flavours are elevated by the choice to appreciate them. Don't deny yourself such pleasures. devnote: Kind/encouraging

—

Moonrise approach

Karlach: Ready to enter the belly of the beast? Gale: It's the stairs I'm dreading. I shall close my eyes, and pretend I'm climbing my own, far superior tower in Waterdeep. devnote: Facing an obstancle with cheery determination Karlach: In that case, welcome home.

—

Moonrise Docks

Karlach: We're not taking a boat to Baldur's Gate, right? Gale: And give the Absolute free reign to use us as target practice from the banks? I think not. devnote: Yeahhh… no. Karlach: Phew. My mum always said the Chionthar was unlucky.

—

At the mind flayer colony, under Moonrise Towers

Gale: It strikes me that, for a mind flayer colony, there are remarkably few mind flayers about the place... devnote: Observing, not sure what to make of it Karlach: Squiddies have gone to war, is my guess. Gale: On the Absolute's behalf? Now there's an alliance I'd have been quite happy without.

Act 03

Blushing Mermaid

Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying (first half) Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying (second half)

—

Counting House

Gale: They say wealth offers a form of magic. Alas, it's one I've rarely dabbled in. Karlach: Nor I. Never had more than a few coppers in the city, and any soul coins in Avernus went straight to Zariel. Gale: Make no mistake. Souls are sold for coins up here as well. All too cheaply, in most cases.

—

Sorcerous Sundries

Gale: Look around you. Indulge your curiosity. Sorcerous Sundries is the finest purveyor of magical miscellany for miles around. devnote: Showing his friends around, trying to sound impressive Karlach: Where's the axes? devnote: looking for battle-axes to the dismay of bookworm Gale Gale: What they sell is far more precious than mere sword or shield. They sell knowledge, ingenuity, the wisdom of mages past. devnote: Showing his friends around, trying to sound impressive Karlach: Sounds like more your thing than mine.

Romance

Breakups and relationship status

Karlach's side

Player breaks up with Karlach over Gale

Karlach: Fuck off if you're here to talk about Gale. I already know. devnote: Wounded/ sadPlayer was partnered with Karlach, but ended up choosing Gale. Karlach found out on her own and is now reacting. This shouldn't be a mega aggro 'fuck off,' more like a 'go away'. Karlach: Couldn't tell me to my face, huh? Had to wait 'til I just... just figured it out. devnote: sad/bitter

Karlach: Whoa. What? You... want to be with Gale...? devnote: Copping on that the player is here to breakup with her Karlach: Since when?! devnote: angry and hurt

Karlach: I should've known Gale would weave his spell on you. Who could resist? devnote: Bittersweet. Player is dumping her for Gale. She's sad but still on good terms and trying to keep things light. Karlach: I know I had... well. You know I liked you. Like you. But I want you to be with someone who can make you happy. If that's Gale, that's Gale. devnote: Heartbroken but mature. (...) Karlach: Hope you don't regret throwing over all this fire for all that hot air. One'll get you through winter, the other'll recite you a lot of codices. But hey. To each their own. devnote: Heavy on the subtext. She's putting a lighthearted/ sarcastic spin on the fact that the player just friendzoned her for gale.

Karlach: When Gale's on page one hundred thirty six of a supremely boring recitation, and you look over and there I am throwing a lasso around a giant centipede and riding it to Chult, I'll have my comeuppance. devnote: Still keeping it a bit light/teasing

Karlach: Gale climbed out of the Weave long enough to waggle his eyebrow in your direction, huh? devnote: Still a little light. She does like Gale, despite his high-falutin-ness, so she doesn't mean this to hurt him.

Player chooses Karlach over Gale

Karlach: I thought you and Gale were... I don't know. Karlach: Gale will be all right, right? Of course he will. He's Gale. If he can take a hit from Mystra, he can take it from you.

Gale is the player and is in a relationship with Karlach

Player: My future's no more certain than your own. But when I dare to imagine having one, it's always you I see beside me. Karlach: I'm seeing you at a desk. Pile of books up to the ceiling. And me barging in with a brace of rabbits for supper. Karlach: You start chopping carrots. I stoke the fire. And every night is the best night we've ever had.

Date with Karlach, Gale is the player character

Karlach: You know, it does. There's always a bit of a veil about you - I guess it's the magic, but there's something else, too. Something I want to discover first-hand.

Q: Tell me a secret

Player: I once claimed to have read all six volumes of 'Lichen and Its Curative Properties' to impress a comely botanist. Alas, a falsehood. Karlach: You mean you haven't read all six volumes?! Gale Dekarios, I'll never look at you the same. devnote: Teasing

Player: I'm afraid I'm doomed to repeat past mistakes, no matter how I try to avoid them. Karlach: I know what you mean. Changing is hard. Every time I think I've figured it out, boom, there I am again, behaving like some version of me that never learned a damn thing.

—

Gale's side

Gale: And what of Karlach? Her heart can surely break, though it burns.

Breaking up with Gale for Karlach

Gale: Karlach, yes? You burn for each other in more ways than one. Gale: I... I thought you would show me the respect of telling me first, but no matter. You can tell me now - who is it to be? Me, or her? Player: I'm sorry, Gale. I want to be with Karlach. Gale: Don't be - she has a good heart. Poor phrasing - she has a terrible heart. But she's surprisingly caring, considering it.

At the tiefling party

Gale: You might be in for an adventure with Karlach. More than you bargained for - with a bit of luck. Gale: Or perhaps more than you bargained for - full stop.

Talking about Tara

Gale: You remind me of her somewhat. You share her fierceness, and her passion.

Be my God, boat scene

Gale: I'll always have you, Karlach.

Act 01

Gale had first stage of romance/attraction with player - not yet anything official. Gale: Karlach... a hypothetical question for you: devnote: Attempting nonchalance Gale: If someone - not me, of course - detected a hint of romantic interest in them from another, unnamed individual, what might that someone do about it? devnote: Attempting nonchalance Karlach: Whoever it is, just talk to them, Gale. And leave out the hypotheticals. Gale: Talking. Right. I'm good at that.

Gale: You know, Karlach, there are other ways to express love beyond run-of-the-mill physicality... devnote: Hint of flirtation, mostly just trying to be helpful Karlach: Ugh. Are you going to try and teach me about exceptional uses for a mage hand or what? Gale: Actually, I was thinking of poetry. Karlach: Oops, sorry. But... now that I think of it... is mage hand especially hard to learn?

—

Act 02

Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. devnote: Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire. Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.

Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me? devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils. devnote: i.e. 'anyone who would reject you, Wyll, just can't appreciate you.'

—

Act 03

Gale: Am I to understand that you are in love now, Karlach? Karlach: I sure am. If there's hope for me there's hope for anyone.

Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? devnote: With concern Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. devnote: Upbeat, things are looking up Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. devnote: Upbeat mood wavering - this is a bit embarassing Karlach: I can only imagine. devnote: i.e. 'anyone who would reject you, Wyll, just can't appreciate you.'

—

Karlach dies at the end of the game, Gale is the player character

Player: Karlach, please... I'm not ready to go on without you. devnote: Distraught, lover is dying.

variant 01: Karlach is dying, Gale is a friend

Gale: No, Karlach. Stay with me, please. We've shared too much to part like this.

—

Game finale (not epilogue)

Karlach is the player character

Gale gave the Crown to Mystra

Gale is in a romance with Karlach

Option 01

Gale: It's curious. After all the wonders and monstrosities we've witnessed, waking beside you seems more unreal than any of it. devnote: Wistful/peaceful - spent a romantic night with the person he loves Gale: I'd forgotten what it felt like, to greet a sunrise without fear of it being my last. devnote: Wistful/peaceful Gale: Oh, hells. I'm sorry. Barely awake a moment and I've already put my foot in it. devnote: Kicking himself, he's accidentally rubbed salt in his partner's very sore wound Player: Don't be. At least one of us will get the cure we were hoping for.

Option 02

Player: Don't be. It's not your fault. Gale: Come now - resignation doesn't suit you half as well as optimism. We'll find some other means of fixing up that infernal engine of yours. devnote: Caring/Encouraging

Option 03

Player: Knowing you, I'd expect nothing less. Gale: You always find a smile where others would soak in their sorrows. And I promise - you'll have reason to smile soon enough. Gale: When we get to Waterdeep, we'll search in my library. It's bound to contain the odd scroll on hellish thermodynamics. Or a spell that might diffuse the heat in such a way that - Gale: Ah. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Do you... that is, would you consider returning to Waterdeep with me? devnote: A bit nervous to ask - this is Karlach, after all Player: I can't. My only hope of survival is to return to Avernus - and I'm not going back. Gale: What, then? You intend to die here? Now? devnote: Refuses to believe it - essentially been told his partner is submitting to her illness

Option 04

Player: I'd love to, Gale, but I can't. My engine is done. Fully cooked. Gale: I - I don't believe it. I won't believe it. Gale: If you go were to return to the hells - temporarily - it would buy us some time. I could put something together, a means of keeping you stable at least. Please, let me try. devnote: Trying to convince her, scared by what she's saying (that she's ready to die) Player: And hand myself to Zariel on a platter? No thanks.

Option 05

Player: Say nothing. Concentrate. You feel like you might explode any second. Gale: I know that look. It's your heart isn't it? Not to worry - you have one of the finest wizards in the Realms at your fingertips.

Gale suggests going to Avernus with Karlach

Player: I'm not going back, Gale. I can't. Gale: What if... what if I went with you? devnote: Scared by his own suggestion

Option 01

Player: I couldn't let you do that. You deserve better. Gale: I deserve the chance to live my life with the raging inferno I love. If that means relocating to the hells, so be it. I've heard Avernus is quite lovely this time of year. Gale: Besides, it would be quite something to study infernal magic in its natural environs. I say 'natural' in the loosest sense, of course.

Option 02

Player: If you were with me, I might be able to handle it. Gale: There's nothing we can't handle - I promise you that. devnote: Essentially his partner just refused treatment for a terminal illness. He's putting a brave face on it so they can enjoy the time they have left. Gale: It's taken me long enough to find you. I'll be damned if I'm letting you go.

Option 03

Player: No, Gale. Neither of us is going to that pit. It all ends here. Now. I just want to see the sky one last time. Gale: If this is the end, then we face it together. That, at least, I can promise you. devnote: Heartbroken - his lover is dying next to him, thanking her for loving him

—

Gale is the player character

Karlach is a mind flayer

Gale goes back to Waterdeep

Player: I think this is where we part ways, Karlach. Karlach: I accept your assessment. You would have been an excellent helpmate in my exploration of what it is to live. But perhaps we are both of us too... changed. Karlach: Where will you go now? Player: Back to Waterdeep. I've a warm fire and a long-neglected reading list to get through.

—

Epilogue

Karlach is dead, was partnered with Gale. Karlach: I can see Gale? Withers: Indeed. His story has marched on since thy great victory - as inevitable as time itself. Let us observe.

Note: will do the rest in a separate post.

Misc banter

Gale: I think your new form rather suits you. It has a certain... cephalopodic charm to it. A tentacular tingle. devnote: Karlach will live! Yay! But she is a mind flayer

Gale: I can imagine no finer ceremorph for the job.

Gale is the player character, hasn't shared his backstory Player: I've a... condition I need to manage. I'd still be looking for a cure. Karlach: We have more in common than I knew. I won't pry for details. Right now, at least. devnote: Karlach wants the goss but won't pry

Gale is the player character, shared backstory Player: Wandering the wilds of Faerûn searching for a cure to the orb. If I lived that long... Karlach: Living a normal lifespan is so yesterday. Believe me.

—

Gale: Revenge is a dish best served hot, it seems. At least when you're in charge of the menu. devnote: Dark humour - your friend achieved her goal, but you know she'll not live long enough to celebrate

—

Gale: Ceremorphosis is Karlach's only chance of survival. It must be her. devnote: Impressed, finding this all very interesting

Gale: No sense dawdling. Karlach has precious little time left to her - we'd do better than to waste

Gale: I've not seen infernal flames like that in quite some time. Why go to Avernus, when you can bring Avernus to us? devnote: Curious/pondering - a rhetorical question, no response from player

—

Gale: I know well the pain of seeing your life's hourglass running empty, grasping at any means of slowing the grains as they slip inexorably through your fingers. devnote: Sincere, a note of pity - Gale once thought he was fated to die because of the orb, so her truly understands what she's going through Gale: Your fate may be ordained, but your actions are not. Make each breath count, and what time you have with us will never be wasted.

Gale: Karlach's fate may be ordained, but her actions are not. She will make each breath count - we can be sure of that devnote: Finding solace in the thought

—

Ilithid transformation

Player: It's okay, Gale. Karlach wants to transform. She'll do it, for herself and for us. Gale: Then I will hold my peace. But if the time comes when even her sacrifice is not enough, call on me, and I will be ready.

Gale thinks that becoming a mind flayer is his best chance at getting the Crown

Gale: I know Karlach has the best intentions, but her kind heart is not going to help me get that crown. Let me do this.

About Gale, Mystra, Elminster, etc

The dialogue lines for this section can be found in the file /Dialogs 2/Companions/Karlach_InParty_Nested_TopicalGreetings.html

—

Karlach: I couldn't help overhearing what Elminster said to Gale. Not every day a god asks for a chat. Karlach: Hey! Maybe I'm invited too. I can be the muscle.

(variation)

Karlach: I couldn't help overhearing. So Mystra wants to talk, does she? Not every day a god asks for a chat. Karlach: ...can I come?

—

Karlach learns about Mystra's message

Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all.

Player: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. devnote: Being cheeky

Player: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms.

—

Meeting Elminster Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad?

(variation, if the player is Gale)

Karlach: Aw, was that your granddad?

—

Gale is the Player, talks about Elminster's message from Mystra

Karlach: Aw, was that your granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Player: Yes it was. Good old Grandfather Dekarios, come to check in on his doting grandson. Karlach: Lovely! You should've introduced him around. Elders love me, and I love them. Player: I'm joking, Karlach. That was Elminster Aumar, the Sage of Shadowdale, one of the greatest wizards to ever live? Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: It relates to a 'condition' I have. I carry an orb of corrupted Weave within my chest. It seems Mystra wants me to detonate that orb and destroy the 'Heart of the Absolute.'

Player: He brought instructions from Mystra. I'm to find the Heart of the Absolute, and destroy it by detonating the orb in my chest. Karlach: The orb in your chest? Shit - I knew something was going on with you, but I didn't know the particulars. Karlach: Well. Turns out we have more in common than I knew. Except I'm trying not to blow up, and you've been instructed to do just that.

Karlach: Wow. That's... that's big, Gale. This is Mystra we're talking about. Goddess of magic - and she's asking you to sacrifice yourself. Karlach: What are you thinking? devnote: As in, 'What are your thoughts about this serious revelation?' Player: This could be my chance at redemption. I have to at least consider dong what she asked. Karlach: Only you can decide if that's really true. If you owe her your life. As for me, I'm positive we can stop the Absolute without losing you, Gale. Karlach: Keep that in mind, all right?

Player: I'm not quite sure yet. It's a big decision. Karlach: No kidding. What could be bigger? Look, I know what it's like to house something dangerous inside you. But I don't know what it's like for someone else - someone I trust - to ask me to use it against myself. Karlach: If you need a friend, you know where to find me. Right here. Right now.

Player: Now that I'm over the shock, I'll probably ignore her request entirely. Karlach: I'm glad to hear you say that. It is shocking. Imagine asking someone to - to end themselves like that. Karlach: Nothing's ever simple anymore, is it? Whatever you decide, I've got your back. But I think we can defeat the Absolute without losing you, Gale.

Player: That remains to be seen. Karlach: Oh? What did he say? Player: I'd rather not talk about it right now. It's a lot to process. Karlach: All right, soldier. But look, if you're in a fix that can be solved by fire or fists, just point me in the right direction. I mean it.

Player: Elminster's no ordinary elder. He's the most renowned wizard in the realms. Karlach: Your grandfather is the most famous wizard in the realms? Karlach: I should've guessed. I mean, you're pretty powerful. Makes sense that it's in your blood. Player: No, Karlach - I was joking before. Elminster isn't my grandfather. But he did tell me something quite serious. Karlach: I'm listening. What did he say?

Karlach: Wonder if he's (Elminster) a wizard too. He's certainly got the beardliness for it

Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.

—

Karlach: Wow. 'Chosen of Mystra.' I guess I should congratulate Gale. Right? devnote: Karlach is happy for Gale. Suspicious of Mystra but trying to be supportive. Karlach: I trust him to know what he's doing. To know how far to go for Mystra. I just hope he knows he doesn't need her favour to be fucking fantastic.

(variation, if partnered with Karlach)

Karlach: Wow, Gale. 'Chosen of Mystra.' Congratulations, I think? Karlach: I trust you to know what you're doing. To know how far to go for Mystra. Just know that even without her - even without any of the gods - you're still pretty fantastic. Karlach: 'Chosen of Karlach' has a ring to it, right?

—

Karlach: Whoa. I've seen a lot, but never been threatened by a god. Karlach: It sounded like Gale really meant it. He really wants to take control of the Karsite Weave. Karlach: He really wants to be a god. devnote: She's not bought in. She's assessing Gale here. Measuring him.

(variation)

Karlach: Interesting. devnote: Suspicious

If Gale is the player character

Karlach: Interesting. I'll keep that in mind. devnote: She's starting to lack trust in Gale here

—

Gale is noncommital about returning the crown

Karlach: Wow, Gale. So you spoke to Mystra, right? Karlach: Pretty spectacular stuff. But I think you were right not to do her bidding, no questions asked. Karlach: I respect the gods, but they don't always understand what they're asking of us. Maybe immortality makes it hard to know what it's like to be one of us piggies. Karlach: Proud of you, though. It takes some man to hold his own in front of the divine.

Karlach: Wow. So Gale really talked to Mystra, huh? Karlach: Pretty spectacular stuff. But he's right not to do her bidding, no questions asked. Karlach: I respect the gods, but they don't always understand what they're asking of us. Maybe immortality makes it hard to know what it's like to be one of us piggies.

—

Gale is blessed by Mystra Karlach: You're glowing, Gale. Mystra must be very pleased with you indeed. Don't forget us little people when you're the Chosen of the God of Magic, hm?

Karlach: Gale looks chuffed as cheese. Mystra must be very pleased with him. Let's hope she's got his best interests in mind.

—

Gale agrees to return the Crown to Mystra

Karlach: Wow. Gale is the 'Chosen of Mystra'. Congrats to him, I think? Karlach: Hope he knows what he's doing. We haven't fared very well with other Chosens so far.

—

Gale uses Shadow Weave

Karlach: Hope you know what you're doing, Gale. I'm no paladin for Mystra, but she probably has good reasons for forbidding Shadow Weave.

Karlach: Gale's walking a thin line. Let's hope he doesn't fall headfirst over it - again.

—

Orin kidnaps Gale Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back. devnote: Seething

—

Gale is resurrected Karlach: This fella Gale has as many lives as a cat. Handy guy to have around, huh?

—

Karlach: You all right, Gale? Looking a little shadowy about the gills.

(variation)

Karlach: Is Gale all right? He's looking a little shadowy about the gills.

—

Items and Netherese orb comments

Karlach: Wide berth, buddy. I have some good equipment I don't want you swallowing.

Karlach: The people you meet, I swear... devnote: A little bemused

Karlach: Much as I commiserate with your, you know, thingie. devnote: 'tough ticks' is a karlachism

Karlach: I like Gale, but I'm keeping all my good gear well out of sight. Karlach: Everything fancy he touches meets a grisly end. Karlach: I commiserate with his situation, though. It's tough ticks housing something you can't control.

Gale is the player character

Karlach: Hey now, what happened to that fancy bit of gear? Player: It's a long story involving the Weave, an ancient tome, and a failed attempt to please Mystra, goddess of magic. Karlach: Hm. And now you have to consume gear Karlach really wants because... Player: Because I have an orb of corrupted Weave within my chest. If I don't keep feeding it with magic, I'll explode with enough force to destroy a city. Karlach: Well, shit. And I thought I had it bad. Karlach: That's a tough hand, Gale. But I'm glad you told me. A chest-bomb shared is a chest-bomb halved, or whatever. Karlach: If I spot anything that'll help, I'll hand it right over, pal. We're in this together.

Player: Because if I didn't, I'd be dangerous to all of us. Karlach: Are we talking some kind of were-wizard situation here, or...? Player: I have an orb of corrupted Weave within my chest. If I don't keep feeding it with magic, I'll explode with enough force to destroy a city.

Player: Just because. Karlach: Wizards and their secrets. Buddy, I could ruin that mind of yours with the stories I could tell. Nothing you say could scare me. When you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen.

Player: I had to consume it. Sorry if that scuppered any plans you had for it. Karlach: I'd mind less if I knew the full story. Never seen a fellow suck the magic-marrow out of an item before.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 meta #bg3 spoilers #karlach #karlach cliffgate #character dialogue #bg3 dialogue #banter #bg3 gale #bg3 karlach

[tavyliasin]

Villain-Fucker Angst Hours

Good timezone, darlings~ Are you ready to get all up in your feelings? No? Me neither, loves, but here we are regardless so the words are going to flow as they usually do... This is focused on Raphael from Baldur's Gate 3 and his fandom, but the latter section can easily apply to any villain fandom.

Self-Analysis of Devil-Fuckery, Or Why Do I Adore Raphael When He Is Very Obviously Evil: A Short Essay by TavyliaSin (Who Still Cannot Name Anything With Less Than A Full Paragraph) ((NSFW)) (((Game Spoilers)))

The following may discuss heavier topics, but without specifics, so whilst it should be safe for most to read without triggering any difficult memories please be aware of Raphael's entire vibes, the content and context of his story, and I'd also like to mention that this isn't a "woe be us for we are terrible people" piece, it's actually more about:

"There is an inherent kindness and warmth to much of the Raphael fandom, and I think there could be some common threads behind that, pulling us all in closer in a comforting blanket that we wrap around each other to keep out the cold of the world."

So, what in the nine hells am I on about? Well. Raphael-fandom is a wild and wonderful place to be. The rest is in sections, so feel free to skip through to what you feel is relevant to your interests. I am so prone to waffle I should open a restaurant~

Who Are Fans Of Raphael? What Do They Want?

We are feral, unhinged, all sheets to the wind "I want that devil man, carnally, and there is no force in all the planes that could stop me". There's the vanilla to the extreme and every level in between, tops, bottoms, versatiles, Doms, subs, and switches - there are a whole lot of people who would love to get their hands on either (or both) of Raphael's forms, for a simple smooch or something far more spicy~ [edited in] To add on to this, not all of us even desire him in a sexual way, for many it is romantic, soft, or even just the rather pleasant thought of spending an evening with drinks by the hellfire because he would be fascinating company. Aces, Aros, and AroAces may all find themselves well within the devilish corners of fandom too~ which is a whole other essay~ [end edit] So, I see you. I'm one of you. Extremely loud and utterly hingeless in my fan appreciation for Raphael. He's one of my favourites to write about, I seek art of him, and the same goes for his mirrored other half, Haarlep, who I arguably love more despite there being far less content of them in the game.

And the Fandom? The Vibe?

From my experience in the Raphael Fandom areas, we have a very deep and abiding understanding of consent, respect, and treating each other with an absolute and uncompromising kindness. We've had talks about keeping each other safe in fandom, exchanged details of people we have encountered who need to be avoided, even shared details between moderators of different fandom servers to pre-ban people proven to be creeps and/or art thieves. We've also discussed consent, including the issues with it in the game, and how areas of the story can only really be considered dubious at best and could easily be triggering for people. And these discussions have been open, honest, fair, and with the acknowledgement that most of us love these scenes anyway. So there's a sense of care that runs through everything, behind the horny-posting and fan content, behind the endless thirsting after our favourite fictional characters. We have a depth of kindness that warms my sinners soul every time I see it.

What Does This Have To Do With Self-Reflection, Raphael, or Villainy In General?

Well let's look at Raphael. He's a villain, obviously. He's manipulative, devious, and inherently evil by his very nature. He keeps Hope chained in his basement, constantly subjected to endless torture. There's also mention of how Gortash was sold into his service at a young age, clearly not an enjoyable experience given the other details and how things turn out (particularly as Raphael would need Gortash's own plans to fail entirely in order for him to succeed in his own and get that crown). And as fans, we accept that. We don't sit making excuses, or trying to say "well actually Gortash is a little shit and Hope probably deserve it", and we don't shy away from or conveniently ignore those darker sides of him with malicious intent to enable more evil to flourish. What I noticed, when I allowed the thoughts to continue, is that there is a theme here.

If Evil Can Be Loved Then So Can I

That's the core. Of course, darlings, I am not claiming to be a heinous monster. I certainly do not have a laundry list of crimes that would make the devil himself say "Uh, that's a bit much." But I sure as fuck treat myself like I do sometimes. You see, I think a lot of us have that tendency, to judge ourselves far more harshly than anyone else. Our patience, understanding, and forgiveness for others runs deeper than the Mariana Trench, but when it comes to our own flaws? One minor mistake and we think ourselves to be the worst beings ever to disgrace the earth. Thus, the villainy we see reflects how we are treating ourselves. So by loving and accepting all of those things that should be terrible, hated, we are actually learning that no matter how poorly we think of ourselves that we can be worthy of that same love and acceptance. We are extending the affection we are unable to show ourselves to someone we see the worst parts of ourselves amplified within. And that's why villains attract the people with the most kindness. The most forgiveness. Because it takes someone with a truly huge amount of empathy to find love for the embodiment of evil.

Or, IDK, maybe villains are just hot and we're too far down to care.

But wait, before you go!

THERE'S SOMETHING WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT.

All of this is about FICTION. We should never be accepting of the kinds of evil we see in the game irl. We do not owe anyone kindness if they do not show it to us.

What is hot in fiction is not always OK IRL.

Look after yourselves out there, remember that consent is key in all things, and please do try to learn to love yourselves, darlings, you are worthy of it and you should judge yourself by the same standard you judge others. If you are in doubt, if you are worried, if you feel afraid - reach out, talk to someone. There are many who will listen.

Treat yourself as you would treat a friend. You deserve that much.

Oh, and all Raphael fans who understand kindness are welcome around me, any hour of the day, I adore our little fandom circles and would gladly collect all of us together. I'm following a lot of you as soon as I find you, like hunting shiny pokemon~

See you in Avernus, my darling Little Mice, may we all find joy in the Cambion's Embrace~

#baldurs gate 3 #raphael #bg3 raphael #villain fucker #personal reflection #analysis of the inner mind by a complete amateur #listen the thoughts get loud then I write them down darlings it happens all the time #love yourself please #you are worth more than you give yourself credit for #and keep loving those villains! it's good for you! #be kind to yourself #and be kind in the community #did this even make sense? well it's there now so tough #DMS are open for fellow fans with excellent taste~

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

A Table of Contents to all my CoD Men x Reader Fics

My shit was getting disorganized as fuck, so I collected everything I've typed on here and put it into a single post, just to make it easier to find my stuff if you ever choose to. User Accessibility matters!

Note - All of this is 18+ and Mature, but not all of it is Smut

SFW/Fluff // Masterlist

The masterlist to all of the SFW/Fluff One-Shots for Ghost x Reader.

No Good Men Left To Spare // Masterlist

No pair of people hated each other more than you and Ghost. To him, you were just another loud-mouthed, obnoxious, and immature little princess needing to be humbled. To you, he was just a boring, broody asshole hellbent on not liking you. Things between you two couldn't be any worse. After pushing one too many of his buttons tonight, you and Ghost going off to have a quick smoke turns into something else entirely.

Make Me Beg

Ghost had been curious to see if you could be the one to make him beg for a change, in which to both his pleasure and dismay, you oblige.

Greedy

Ghost x Dom!Reader x Soap

Ghost and Soap find themselves crushing on the same woman on their team, a friendly bout between two comrades to see who you'll choose, only your answer's not one they'd expected to hear.

The Lights Stay Off

No Summary :(

NSFW, 18+, Shameless Smut, No Plot, Porn w/out Plot, Sex in the dark, Explicit, Graphic Language, Teasing, Touch-Starved Touching, Embarrassing, First Time Together, Fingering, Sloppy Kisses, Somewhat Rough Sex, slightly Intimate, Ghost is a bit of a dom, Reader's a bit snarky

Ghost Fan Edit

My thirst for this man is endless. I've been thirsty since I was 11 and first laid eyes on him in 2009. He just gets finer each year. I don't think I'd have my mask kink without him.

Now you get to see how rhythmically challenged I am. These are fun to make; once I get better at them I'll be unstoppable (｀∀´)Ψ

I Won't Forget

Short Drabble ~ Your last night with Johnny...

Can You Spot Me?

You decide to reward Soap after finishing a set on the bench press.

NSFW 18+, Explicit, Shameless Smut, Porn w/out Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Gym Sex, Teasing, Fluff, Flirting, Cunnilingus, Blow-Jobs, Cowgirl, P in V, Might be a little tame, but still Graphic Description, no Y/N usage

Greedy (same story as above one in Ghost's section)

Speedracer

Gaz x Reader x Soap

It's not every day Gaz gets to drive fast cars. It's also not every day he gets to race hot strangers on the road either.

SFW, Some swearing, Fluff, Flirting, Banter, Racing, Three-Way flirting, Random, Innocent, Some Car Lingo, Soap and Gaz sharing a single brain cell, Eventual smut in part two, scarcely proofread

Been In Love

After a breakup, Price figures a walk along the beach might make for a good distraction. What he did not expect to find was a strange woman standing off to the shore, who looked as though she were about ready to drown herself at sea.

pt. 0 | pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

Bloodstained Honesty

Wounded, bloody, and just the two of you. A mission gone wrong leads to a long overdue moment between both you and your Captain, perhaps too late to count for anything. Not if either of you two can help it at least.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

Sex Tape ~ Kinktober Prompt

No summary (._. )

NSFW (18+), Shameless Smut, Explicit Detail, Groping, Fingering, Nipple-Play, Oral (Female Receiving), AFAB!Reader Long-Distance, Sex Tape, Scarcely Proofread, Kinktober

Some Days

Drabble ~ Price has a tendency to wake up most mornings before you...

SFW, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Innocent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Mornings, Wife Reader, Soft Price, Price is a little mopey, scarcely proofread

Let Me Play You A Song

During a get-together, you and the Captain decide to sneak off for a spell. The intentions were mostly pure. At the start...

Captain Price Fan Edit

My first time making a video like this EVER (ʃᵕ̩̩ ᵕ̩̩). It came out more like a trailer than an edit, but I had so much fun making this. I really hope you like it! *totally not nervous* (　◜◡‾)

Captain Price Fan Edit 2

Control Masterlist

Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Angst, Romance, Drama

You’ve been with Shadow Company long enough to know working alongside 141 on their search for the stolen American missiles wouldn’t be an ordinary assignment. And most importantly, you knew Graves. Shadow Company keeps its allies close, and its enemies closer. When you’re given a job, it gets done without conflict. Without loose ends.

Your true mission is clear to you -- keep an eye on 141 and keep them comfortable. Anything it takes to alleviate suspicion of Shadow Company’s involvement with the missing missiles. This wasn’t about saving lives, this was a deadly game of control, and you intend to do so flawlessly.

Phillip Graves Character Trailer

Deepthroating ~ Kinktober Prompt

Drabble - You decide to pay your commander a little visit during one of his later nights in the office...

Welp, that's that. Thanks ( .-.)

...

Here are links to some of my gaming clips if interested (shameless plug)

One | Two | Three | Four | Five

#masterlist #control #call of duty #modern warfare ii #mwii #call of duty modern warfare ii #mw2022 #ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare 2 #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap mwii #soap x reader #captain price x reader #captain price #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves #graves x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #gaz mw2 #gaz x reader #gaz cod

[criminalmindswhore]

Starry Night

You finally pop the question.

The whole team was at David's for a dinner party in the most casual sense. You were all joined around a fire cracking jokes and telling stories about JJ's kids, Penelope's cats, and Hotch's brother.

Emily watched as you wandered away from the group, your curiosity piqued by something in the distance. A fond smile graced Emily's lips as she recognized your endless thirst for exploration and discovery. She excused herself from the conversation, gracefully making her way through the crowd, following your trail.

Outside, the night air was crisp, carrying a hint of the approaching fall. Emily's gaze fell upon you, who stood near the edge of David's property, your eyes fixed on the starlit sky. The moon casts gentle rays of light, illuminating your face and adding a touch of ethereal beauty to the moment.

Emily approached softly, not wanting to break your reverie. As she drew closer, her voice was hushed, filled with both intrigue and adoration. "What has caught your attention, love?" Emily asked her words a mere whisper. You turned towards Emily with a warm smile, her brown eyes shining with wonder. "Look, Emily," you said, gently pointing upwards. "The stars... They're so beautiful."

Emily's heart swelled at the sight of your awe and appreciation for the simple beauty of nature. Joining you, she looked up at the night sky, taking in the vast expanse of twinkling lights above them. "Yes, they are," Emily replied softly. "It's amazing how something so infinitely distant can touch our hearts and fill us with wonder." You leaned into Emily's side, their shoulders brushing as they stood together under the starry sky. Your connection, both physical and emotional, offered comfort and strength in the stillness of that moment.

Emily's voice turned softer, a warmth emanating from her words. "You know, Y/n, one of the things I love most about you is your ability to find beauty and fascination in the simplest of things," she confessed. "It's like you bring a sense of magic to every moment we share."

Your gaze captured Emily's, a tender smile gracing your lips. "And you, Emily, have a way of grounding me, of anchoring me to the present," you replied, your voice filled with love and admiration. "It's like you see right through me, and I feel so fortunate to have you by my side."

Time seemed to stand still as you and Emily immersed yourselves in the beauty of the night sky, your connection deepening with each passing moment. It was in these shared experiences, these stolen moments of tranquility and affection, that your love flourished.

As you eventually made your way back to the gathering, hand in hand, the warmth and love between you two continued to radiate, unseen but felt by those who knew you two best.

You felt like this was the right moment, the right night to pop the question. You fiddled with the ring box in your pocket and looked to David who nodded. Almost like he knew what you were planning. You slipped it from your pocket, stood and cleared your throat catching the attention of everyone including Emily. You spoke, "Emily, the day I met you I became the person I wanted to be. You have done nothing to help me grow over the past 4 years. I want every single moment with you, the good and bad. I want to grow old with you and drink coffee on the porch. I want to point out the stars to you every night for the rest of our lives. Emily Elizabeth Prentiss," You got on one knee, "Will you do the highest honor and be my wife?" Your heart felt like it was going to stop, you knew she would say yes but this was still horrifying.

Emily's heart skipped a beat as your words echoed through the quiet night, filling the air with a mixture of anticipation and love. Time seemed to stand still as all eyes turned to her, their gazes filled with anticipation and warmth.

The gravity of your heartfelt words struck Emily deeply, her brown eyes glistening with emotion. It was in that moment, surrounded by the people who meant the most to you two, that she realized this was the culmination of your journey, the pinnacle of your love.

As you knelt before her, presenting the ring box, Emily's breath caught in her throat. The weight of the question hung in the air, and she could feel her heart racing with both excitement and a touch of vulnerability. A surge of pure, unadulterated love washed over Emily, drowning any doubts or fears that may have lingered in her mind. She gazed deeply into Rylee's eyes, her voice filled with a blend of certainty and emotion.

"Yes, Y/n," Emily replied, her voice steady but filled with the depth of her feelings. "A thousand times yes. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you, to cherish every moment, and to be your wife." The relief and joy that filled your eyes was a sight to behold. A collective gasp of happiness and congratulations rippled through the gathered group, their love and support palpable in the air.

You slipped the ring onto Emily's finger, a symbol of your love and commitment to her. It sparkled in the soft glow of the fire, reflecting the love that radiated between you two. 

With tears of joy glistening in her eyes, Emily reached out to cup your face, her voice filled with profound love and gratitude. "Thank you, Y/n/n," she whispered. "Thank you for choosing me, for loving me so deeply, and for giving us this incredible future together. I would be honored to be your wife.” As cheers and applause erupted around them, Emily pulled you into a tender embrace, sealing your love in a moment of sheer bliss. 

"Emily I love you." You whispered before pressing a passionate kiss to Emily's lips which earned hoots and hollers from the group. Your hands grabbing her waist to pull Emily impossibly closer to you. Emily's heart soared at your whispered confession, your words wrapping around her like a warm embrace.The fervent kiss, igniting a passionate fire that seemed to consume you both. Caught up in the intensity of the moment, Emily felt an electric jolt surge through her body. The cheers and hoots from your friends only served to heighten the rush of emotions coursing through her veins. “It’s about damn time.” Derek said before chuckling. Penelope was a mess, tears running down her face as she recorded the whole thing.

For a blissful moment, the world around you faded into the background as your lips moved in sync, your love and desire pouring into the passionate kiss.  As the kiss lingered, Emily's fingers found their way to the back of your neck, lightly treading through your hair, deepening the connection. In that tender touch, you conveyed your love and passion, cherishing every moment of the intimate exchange.

When you finally drew apart, your breaths mingling, Emily's voice was laced with love and desire. "I love you too, Y/n," she whispered, her voice husky with emotion. "With everything that I am." The words carried the weight of a thousand promises, an unwavering commitment that forever bound their hearts.

The cheers and hollers from your friends continued, blending with the crackling of the fire and the distant melody of the night. In that moment, surrounded by love, you and Emily knew that your shared affection and desire for each other would only grow.

In the midst of laughter and kisses stolen in passing glances, you and Emily embraced the love that surrounded you two. Your phone pinged and you glanced at it seeing a video attachment from ‘Penny Girl <3’. You smiled and glanced at her, mouthing a thank you. She nodded in your direction, in all honesty getting to witness that moment was enough thanks for her. Your heart felt as if it could burst from excitement, love, and happiness, and it all happened under a starry night.

#criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss fluff

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

sorry to spam you, but. what happens with scourge in your rewrite? he’s my favorite <3

Please, don't ever apologize for sending lots of asks! I love answering them and they can help me think of things I hadn't thought about before, or flesh an arc out. Send as many as you want, all of you!

Anyways, Scourge, the literal scourge of my brain, because I've had to rewrite him 3 different times.

This little guy has been reworked SO much. The first was to tell the story of a downfall, how sometimes people become worse than the people who hurt them, and pay for it, but showing that there was still 'Tiny' in there, having The Rise Of Scourge end with his spirit, now back to being Tiny, reuniting with Quince, while his older self faded away.

I... Hated the vibe. And I'm probably gonna save THAT kind of ending for someone else...

I then changed it to be somewhat more like Better Bones, but with Scourge remaining leader of Bloodclan.... But that also doesn't line up with the themes of Graystripe's Clan and Ravenpaw's Path, where Fury and Neo Bloodclan come into play.

I didn't wanna kill him. I didn't want him to join Thunderclan. I didn't want him to stay in Bloodclan....

Then, it hit me.

So... Meet the new Scourge. He can say the F word.

Scourge

His story is one about coming back from the brink of no return.

Firestar has noticed something about Scourge. The fur around his neck has rubbed off, his voice is brittle, swallowing is so difficult that he drools a bit, his breathing is shallow, and he's... Painfully underweight. Now, aside from the terrifying thought that is "how strong would this guy be if he WAS properly nourished?", he realizes that even if Scourge manages to make it through this battle, he will most likely not make it to next season.

In a flash, Firestar leaps onto Scourge's back, and sinks his teeth into his scruff and collar. Just like his new deputy Longtail did to him, he begins to pull, hoping and praying that Starclan will grant another miracle.

The collar snaps, just as Scourge is about to pass out, he takes in his first deep breath in ages. Firestar pays for it with his first life.

Swiftpaw, now posthumously named Swiftclaw, is chosen as his first life to lose. He feels the pain and terror and rage and desperation that Swiftclaw did, but he also puts pieces together. Why did this happen? The real why. Not just the dogs getting a taste for cat. Not Tigerstar's seemingly unending thirst for power. Before all that.

This problem is the fault of the Clans. Churning out radicalized youths who will hurt others because of the instilled belief that Might Makes Right. Sure, Scourge has taken things too far, and seems hellbent on revenge, but the seeds of this bloody battle were planted on Clan Land.

Blackfoot, Brokenstar, Leopardstar, Mistfang, Darkstripe, Longtail, even Crookedstar and Nightstar have all fallen victim to this belief at one point of another. Tigerstar was not made in a vacuum. This kind of "kill or be killed" mentality is not making the Clans strong, it is getting cats killed.

He sees another vision of himself fighting Scourge, killing him. But his sight flickers, and it makes him sick. Scourge's build is so much like Princess. His eyes the same shade of blue that Cloudtail has. He sees his own loved ones in the one he is fighting. He is sinking his teeth and claws into his own Kin.

And then, finally, he sees the vision of Tigerpaw being goaded by Thistleclaw to beat Tiny. Then Thistlepaw being rewarded by Adderfang for sparring with a Riverclan apprentice and tearing their ear. Adderfang charging into battle alongside his father, too eager to take a life from Heatherstar Heatherstep. Tigerclaw berating Darkpaw for failing a training exercise. Darkstripe getting his new apprentice Longpaw to eat prey instead of giving it to the sick elder... The vision ending with Longtail touching noses with the newly named Swiftpaw, a line of cats behind him so long it stretches into the shadows, endless kittens behind Swiftpaw, a mentorship doomed before it even began. Generations of cats hurting each other with no end in sight.

Enough is enough.

When he comes back to life, he slams against Scourge, dodging his attack again, and looking around to confirm his worst fears. All of Bloodclan's cats are fully grown. The Clans have brought apprentices. This victory is for the future, to Save The Clans as Fire Alone.

He slams Scourge against the ground, and knocks him out. However, Rooster, a Bloodclan cat, cries out that Scourge has been killed. To be fair to Rooster, Scourge is laying limp at the feet of Lionclan's leader.

While many Bloodclan cats scurry away, some to one day become Neo Bloodclan, Firestar taps the ground to call attention to Snowpaw, using a bit of Body Speaking to silently tell the deaf apprentice to sneak Scourge to camp, grabbing Scourge's torn collar and hiding it for later.

Bloodclan negotiations begin with the cats who stay and will later be seen in Graystripe's Clan.

Meanwhile, Snowpaw drags Scourge through the woods and sneaks him into Cinderpelt's den, scaring Cinderpelt half to death. She begins to treat Scourge, removing the enforced claw tips and gathering some food for him to eat without getting sick from the influx of sudden nutrition. Snowpaw is so friendly that he manages to become friends with Scourge while he is slowly recovering, hidden in the back of Cinderpelt's den and slowly putting on some weight as he eats with his friend while getting more comfortable with others. None of this would have happened if Snowkit had been taken by that hawk...

Eventually, he is healthy enough to groom himself properly and walk around. But... What now? Can he stay in Thunderclan? Would that be a safe option for him? Firestar is still teaching cats to unlearn their biases, and Scourge may be subject to suspicion and discrimination, which isn't fair to him.

Firestar talks with Princess, and the answer is clear.

His housefolk are not home now, haven't been in a week, but... Smudge is pretty lonely. Rusty left a bit of a hole there, he could use a good friend.

Scourge is brought to Smudge's home in the dark of the night, collar in his teeth, and welcomed inside. His collar tag reads 'Tiny' but with no phone number or microchip, Smudge's people take him in as their own, and Smudge isn't so lonely anymore.

Firestar left housecat life to be wild, proving himself with a broken collar, and Scourge is leaving wild life to be a housecat once more, saving himself with a broken collar.

He is seen during Firestar's Quest, slightly chubby and full of energy, and I might have him go on the Quest with them to round out the party. The important thing is, he is happy.

Princess's Short Story, currently unnamed, is about her passing, visiting her old friends and family as a spirit. She finds Scourge's spirit, along with Quince, Socks, and Smoke, enjoying a peaceful afterlife together.

He is allowed a place in Starclan and Sky-Starclan, and will reappear during Beyond The Stars as a supporting cast member.

#warrior cats #warrior cats rewrite #wcr #warriors #asks #character page #scourge #scourge wc #firestar #swiftpaw #swiftclaw #tigerstar #bloodclan #smudge #snowkit #snowpaw #snowtail #cinderpelt #darkstripe #longtail #narrative parallels my beloved #scenes that match up with new meanings later on my beloved

[tearskillstardust]

❝MY LETTER TO YOU, MY DARLING❞

014. 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐘—purring in my hat, the cat in my heart.

📬 there's a letter for you in your mailbox!

Ma/Mon Chérie,

How are you doing? It quite upsets me that you would not try to contact me even though you have been away for a few weeks now. Still, I do not mind; it must be rather busy, with Mond's constant troubles with artillery. Whatever may it be, which is responsible for keeping you from me for so long— I hope that trouble subsides soon so that we can be together once more.

I have something to share with you. A few days ago, as Lynette and I were giving a performance outside, playing with the cards the way we often do, my gaze fell upon a lone kitten, curled in the corner as she seemingly watched the show. I do not know if it was simply a trick of the light, or if her eyes were simply so majestic, but they seemed to shine when I twisted the cards this way and that, purposely staying at the side of the stage where she could spot me.

When the show was to be over, I had intended to leave to meet and greet the kitten, excited about the new audience as I already was. Alas, however—troops of children surrounded me from all sides, and the kitten, frightened of the pandemonium, fled at last. I have no intention to hide my woe from you—heartbroken I was!

Much to my luck, however, only yesterday as I was on my way back to the House of Hearth, I spotted the very same kitten—bluish eyes, dirty white coat—peeping inside Lynette's room through the open window! It was lucky, indeed, that Lynette was busy working on a few tricks at that moment and had not spotted the kitten, and the kitten was busy admiring the show. I gave her milk and a few treats, of course, rushing I went into my room.

I think you know what I'll say next. We have adopted her. I'd rather that you give her a name so I've been calling her my little pie for a while now, I think she's getting a bit too used to it so I've stopped with that.

I won't give you a chance to object, so let's move on. Honestly, I have so many stories to share with you, if only you were here by my side. While I don't mind having to write, stories are told better with lights off and a candle in place; the ambience isn't good enough on a piece of paper.

This is why I won't tell you any more of these silly occurrences and save them for later instead. All you should know, however, is that we have adopted no more pets and Father is quite satisfied with the workings of the place. He'll visit us when the year ends, and I've made arrangements for you to enjoy the day with another friend. I still hope I could join you, or that you could join me, but I think even the sweet thought of you is good enough for me to go on.

You may be curious— Rosseland has a new companion in the kitten. Lynette and Freminet are amazing as usual, under the care of their responsible elder brother. I'd ask Charlotte about her health, but it would put mine in danger. She seems to be in high spirits though. Madame Clorinde dropped by one day and asked me to this package to you. I really wonder what it is ...

Anyways, I think this is enough for one correspondence, and I'll wait until you're free enough to engage my endless, and quite useless, thirst for speaking.

Yours,

Lyney

p.s: Keep a small batch of matchsticks under your pillow tonight, and when you wake up, burn them to ashes. When you turn that favourite ceramic vase of yours over, something you may desire a lot right now will fall right out of it!

taglist→ @navxry

please comment on the master post to be added to the taglist, thank you !

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin letters #💌my letter to you my darling #lyney genshin #genshin lyney #lyney x reader #genshin impact lyney

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

I completely agree with you about the casting for Abby. She'd be perfect for flashback and young Abby. Nothing against the actress, but Naughty Dog could have done better.

Every single day I have to swallow down opinions about HBO's The Last of Us because I am tired and don't have the mental energy to organize a full length essay explaining what a horrible adaptation (and independent show aside from being an adaption) the fucking thing was.

Like - the characters clothes all looking brand new even though they're supposed to be in a 20 year long apocalypse, the endless product placement taking up space where sweet character building moments were, Joel's entire character arc being fucked to the point where he is cold and rejecting toward Ellie more than halfway through the story (and for more than half the story, it seems like they don't even like each other because they missed so many key moments), casually adding in the theme of disability euthanasia, the seasons being way tf off even though seasons is a central important theme of the game, them adding physical conflicts between Ellie and Joel when he never used physical violence as a way to communicate with her in the game (ever), Joel trauma dumping on Ellie that he failed at killing himself and she's basically the reason he's 'okay' now (when in the game, she had to beg and pry to get him to open up about himself. big yikes).

The show is a whole ass dumpster fire.

But yeah - she is not a good choice for casting, and I really hope that they only intend her to be younger Abby in the flashbacks. Otherwise, idk what they're gonna do. Even something I forgot to mention in that original post - Abby and Lev's relationship is supposed to parallel Joel and Ellie's relationship from the first game. If Abby is very petite and very young looking, then the Abby and Lev dynamic will not have the same impact as it did in the game. It will not come off as an adult taking care of a child (as it is supposed to, as it's supposed to parallel Joel and Ellie) - it will come off as two young people struggling together, and it just won't work.

Especially because one of the most important moments is - Abby carrying Lev down the beach after Ellie unintentionally freed them from the Rattlers, and even if it's unspoken, it's very clear that Ellie sees herself and Joel in those moments - and that is why she targets Lev in order to provoke Abby into a fight. Because she knows that one of the only ways to provoke a tired, broken down, exhausted Joel into a fight would have been someone threatening her life. And if Abby is some tiny, petite little girl instead of her usual towering self - those moments will not have the same impact. At All.

Anyway - people who like the show probably haven't had any proper contact with the games to know how good they are, or they are just thirsting over Pedro Pascal. idk. season two is bound to be a dumpster fire as well

also, okay - with the casting for Abby, I feel like somebody has to talk about Abby vs conventional attractiveness. because when TLOU2 first came out, there was the endless flood of 'Abby is a man' comments about her muscles, and I feel like the producers of the show are just downright cowards for not casting someone thick and muscled to play Abby in the show because it is an important part of her character, and because - it's giving in to all the backlash about her looks from the game.

casting someone petite and thin - someone who is very conventionally attractive - is a very cowardly move. because Abby is not supposed to be a conventionally attractive woman. she is supposed to be a brute, scary woman with a surprising soft side. (and I know, the lesbians are gonna be flooding my comments being like "I think Abby is attractive!!" but I am talking about attractiveness in terms of typical Hollywood casting.) it is just stupid not to cast her accurately to avoid backlash or because you think the character suddenly needs a makeover according to Reddit fanboys

like wtf

#anonymous #sundrop answers #abby anderson #the last of us #the last of us season 2 #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou2 #discussion

[toxicanonymity]

Hi!😊 What are your favourite horror books, shows and or movies? I'm not very familiar with the genre, but when I was a teenager I was hooked on The Fear Street series (R. L. Stine) and Stephen King books (my faves are Salem's Lot and Pet Cemetery). Recently I read the book with the long title about vampires by Grady Hendrix and I also loved it. As for TV shows I love Mike Flanagan's stories 💚

Fun question! I'm gonna answer it without too much thought, knowing I'm leaving off some faves. Otherwise I'd take forever and make it less fun 🥲. In no particular order. . .italic = added later.

Books - I know that Grady Hendrix one 😅 - "The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires," I liked it too. And Pet Sematary as well. As a kid, I really enjoyed Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, and imo the books hold up lol. I was also into Goosebumps. I like The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson and the miniseries. Horror-adjacent: The Snowman by Jo Nesbø; Sharp Objects by Gyllian Flynn (loved the miniseries, too). When I travel, I pick up a local ghost/hauntings book. Love folklore and urban legends.

Shows: Black Mirror, Dark, Hannibal, Yellowjackets s 1-2, Archive 81 (Matt McGorry is daddy). American Horror Story s1 Murder House. Dark Shows - Bordertown (Finnish). Maniac (sci-fi, the aesthetic scratches my brain soooo good).

Dark Non-fiction: series: Chernobyl, Dopesick, Dahmer, Murder Mountain. Unsolved Mysteries. Movies: The good nurse

Movies, skipping most of the classics: Coherence. The Bad Batch. The Guest. Barbarian. The Night House. Hell House LLC. The Lodge. The Endless. We Are Still Here. It Comes at Night. The Witch. Lake Mungo. mother!. Donnie Darko. Haunting in Connecticuit. The killing of a sacred deer. 10 Cloverfield Lane. The Menu. Candyman (both). [My idea of] Fun: M3gan, Us, Malignant, Terrifier 2, Bodies bodies bodies, It Follows, Thanksgiving, Green Inferno, Happy Death Day. And of course any I've written for.

Honorable mentions for physical effect: When Evil Lurks (Argentinian) made me physically gag out loud in the theater. I thirst-watched The Cursed and it gave me a nightmare (boyd wasn't in it ☹️). Tales from the Loop (sci fi series) made me sob.

I welcome no-pressure recommendations! More likely to try shows/movies.

#horror!ask #books #movies #shows #toxask

[elegantduelliste]

Epistles of Saints & Sinners

Chapter Summary:

Tav and Astarion spend the night together.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Story Summary:

When Astarion meets the humble bard, Tav, he soon finds out he's the only one between them that knows they are bound as soulmates through their marks. Deciding it's more trouble than its worth, he refuses to tell her along the course of their journey across Faerûn.

But, unbeknownst to him and their companions, Tav is harboring a gruesome secret that she only thought was nothing more than a traumatized period in her life.

As they both come to face to face with their pasts and presents, will they choose to move forward or let it consume them?

Healing isn’t linear—after all.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Chapter 9: Known*

Ao3

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Main Page & Chapter List

Word Count: 4.8k

Pairing: Astarion x female bard Tav

CW: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Trauma, CPTSD episode during sex, Act 1 Spoilers

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

It is said that being bestowed with the mark of a soulmate is rare. Even rarer to find a soulmate that you fall in love with. See, soulmate marks are tricky in that way. It is not a guarantee of life together. Sometimes, a soulmate can be a friend, a relative, an enemy. I have sung romantic ballads throughout my life about them. Wondering what it would be like to have a soulmate of my own.

— Tavelle Swiftchoir, diary entry 217

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Love.

The meaning of love to Astarion was defined by cold nightmares of his flesh being carved into with a whetted blade. It meant endless mirrors—he could no longer see his reflection in—hung on the bedroom walls of countless obscured lovers he guided to the next celestial plane by a thrust of his hips.

Confined to the shadows like an unsent apparition, love was the compulsion by his master to peel back his fingernails and drive nails of iron into his wrists.

Lead up to the altar by the promise of immortality. His bride: eternal hunger. His husband: cruelty. Married forever to Cazador’s crimson that gave him undeath.

Love would condemn him to weakness; a folly of humanity.

But, he could pretend to love. He had lost count of how many conquests he feigned the emotion to as he seduced them. Astarion learned early on how to create the illusion of love during his countless years of predatory stalks. Batting lashes. Secret confessions of forbidden wants. The longing of their humming hearts as he showered them with adorations.

And each of these imbeciles believed him—even those he felt an ounce of sympathy towards.

Then, there was the bard. Somehow, in spite of their differences, he had managed to capture the songbird. He knew that she yearned for the connection through companionship, like he thirsted for lifeblood. She wanted to be known. Effortlessly and with devotion, to the marrow of her bones. And she wanted to share it with someone in return. Astarion decided in face of those challenges, he would burden himself with the role to shepard in the requirements for his conservation.

If he could make former notches on his bedpost believe he loved them, then he could simulate prolonged connection.

It’s why he agreed to engage in her pointless game at the party—to get her to trust him further. Each sentence, every word, he fed her was so carefully planned leading to this exact moment of their night. His answers were enough to satisfy her queries about him: truths that belied his aversion towards her.

He hated it. Hated the instincts he knew would draw her to him. Because the vampire knew that one of the most sensible ways to establish a form of “connection” was through sex.

This death dance of frivolous and faux intimacy. Years of bedding anything with a pulse had conditioned his cock to rise without him feeling anything inside. Except, this time was not to give a victim to Cazador, it was to procure a target for himself.

He laughed to himself while he removed his shirt. He chose her. For him. The unpretentious songstress with a mystifying heart. His protector. The soulmate he couldn’t accept. How utterly insane.

Astarion patiently waited for Tav in a forest glade just a stone’s throw away from their camp. With a quick peck on the tip of his nose, she promised herself to him for the rest of the evening.

Still, his words of subterfuge would not be enough to guarantee the immunity of her balm. The details in between had to be the mirage for his stratagem.

To keep her interested. To keep her affections.

Fragrant oils were reapplied in places he knew she would want to touch, to completely envelop herself in. He cleaned his teeth, polishing them off with a piece of cloth. Mint leaves were chewed for the benefit of quelling the taste of blood when she would inevitably kiss him. Even the illumination of the moonlight splashing on the trees—forming enchanting shadows on the ground—was a planned location by him.

Astarion heard her drawing closer; the strange chorale hymn encaged behind her breast.

Anxiously, he quickly recited phrases of poetic novelties in his head, ones to enkindle her need for him throughout their upcoming coupling.

Gods, had he ever gone through so much trouble to secure a quarry before?!

Tav approached, like gentle rain in the sunlight: fluent and quiet. Her hair had been decorated and restyled into a waterfall plait with the same flowers she kept in her garter.

The pallid spawn appeared from behind one of the large trees, confidence in his gait. Silvery curls bathed by the lune’s brilliance, his skin glowing in near perfection with faint beads of dew upon his neck, painted a picture of his otherworldly aristocracy.

“I’ve been waiting,” he purred, stepping closer to her.

She smiled meekly, staring at the nakedness of his chest. “You started without me?”

Inwardly, he briefly panicked. Shit. The shirt off was a poor decision.

“I suppose I’ve been eager to have you,” he grinned in recovery. He held out his hand for her to take. “And you��will let me have you, won’t you?”

Warmth was deposited into the crisp chill of his hand as she demurely placed it within his own. He brought it to his chest, isolating her fingertips to drag them across the field of his muscular pectoral muscles down to trace along his Adonis belt.

A wave of gooseflesh rose on her forearms.

“You’re the only one right now I want to have me, Astarion,” she softly vowed.

He tilted his head at her admission. The temptation to completely possess her had risen—to walk alongside the wickedness of his inner carnality for power. She would so sweetly acquiesce to him pushing her to the ground before his shrine of hunger, binding her wrists with his hands, and sliding into her creamy waiting slit while he told her to worship him with titles of grandeur.

Oh, merciful Astarion, Creator of besmeared covenants, The convalescent songstress seeking his touch to cure her fervent body, With his holy emblem in ichor painted on her breasts, Power of powers, May your wants be granted upon you.

Astarion wrapped an arm around her waist, urging her near. He pressed his forehead against her own, noticing her shakes of anticipation as he rubbed her lower back through her chemise. A heart stopping, then speeding back up.

“You always shudder like the babe of a rabbit whenever I touch you. Do I frighten you?” He asked in a low gravel.

She looked away timidly, a shadow of diffidence cast over her face. “Your succor makes me feel like I’m being pulled into directions I didn’t know existed. The only thing that frightens me, is how much I crave you.”

His stomach churned. How many times had he managed to tear such streams of flattery from his former lovers?

The vampire cupped the apple of her cheek, turning her head to face him. “Tavelle, look at me.”

Tav lifted her eyes under the veil of her desire for him. Something inside of her had splintered. By the gentle exhale of her breathing—that rhythmic thrum inside her chest that was once again out to sea—a divergent path had slipped underneath her confluence. She wasn’t afraid of him; she was afraid of letting go.

Had her eyes always been the color of the calm after the storm? Muted blues and grays, a mixture that appeared ordinary from feet away, but up close—

He swallowed down his remaining thoughts.

“Do not shy away from that which you crave. To be tasted. Felt held by another. Known. You want those things, don’t you?” He stroked a brisk finger along her jaw, settling his thumb against the plush of her lower lip.

Cheeks rosy and warm, Tav grabbed onto his wrist, placing his palm against her lips to anchor a reverent peck. “I do. But, what about you? What do you want?”

Why did she keep asking him such stifling questions? A whispering diviner at his ear trying to open up a portal to the abode of his shades. He couldn’t bloody stand her.

But, what did he want?

It was possible to want now, wasn’t it?

It was even possible to receive those wants.

A twisted smear alighted his dead arteries.

Power. Freedom. Her shield. Her blood. Cazador’s true death.

Whatever the hells he could take!

And other wants.

Not to be touched or put on display like a whore.

To continue walking in the sun.

Seen.

“Our collective pleasure. Ecstasy that lasts well into the night.”

The sudden dour expression on her face almost made him question his practiced response. She squeezed his hand as if she were trying to reassure him that he could trust her. “Is that all?”

No.

She studied him in silence, in considerate observance, as she nipped at her lip. Her damned searching again.

He needed to guide them along before their conversation became some emotional slop and ruined his plans.

Astarion reached out for her hips, effectively turning her around. He backed her into the nearby tree, relishing in the heat of her hold on his arms.

He leaned into her ear, unintentionally blowing a cool breath, as he pawed at her skirts. “Lift these. Let me show you what I want.”

The songstress bunched her skirts without breaking eye contact, holding them tightly around her hips. He could hear her short breaths of air waiting for him in a fervid state of starvation.

Limber fingers slid up her outer thighs, tickling her with featherlight scampers of his pads. She keened until his touch turned into an avid need, gliding along her inner thighs. Reservedly, he felt her legs part for him.

What he found, caused him to smirk mischievously. She really did continue to surprise him.

“And I see you also started without me,” he chuckled above her.

As his digits skimmed the crease where her thigh met her mons pubis, he discovered she had chosen to forego her smalls—leaving her completely bare.

Had Astarion been a normal mortal man about to fuck a woman into mind-bending bliss, her impulsivity may have turned him on. But, what his vampiric nature granted him was an unholy possessiveness over her cunt.

Here his bonny songbird stood, offering the secrets of her milky secretions for his dark schemes. The scent of her nectar, a sweetened musk almost as intoxicating as her blood. All for him to indulge in should he so choose.

His?

That was unplanned.

“I guess, I too, was feeling eager,” she sighed bashfully.

Peppering kisses along the length of her neck, he slid an index finger between her folds. Oh, she hadn’t been this wet the first time he had his fingers inside of her. Judging by the blinks she fluttered at him, she was also aware of his findings.

Gently, he rubbed her sensitive bundle of nerves, cradling a pleasant cry from her lips with encouraging mumbles on her cheek. He circled her clit clockwise, swiping across it with more pressure every time she whined. Astarion moved his thigh in the middle of her legs: a wedge to keep them open at his discretion.

Then, he suddenly relented, lecherously probing through her heated lips with a single finger, inserting it deeply into her. Tav’s mouth opened in a quiet scream of delirium. He lunged it in and out of her at a snail’s pace, watching her squirm, desperately trying to keep her skirts raised. Chilly lips found their way to her earlobe and he instantly assaulted it with his tongue, moaning with it in his mouth with every thrust of his finger.

“I could finish you off like this,” he rasped into her ear, licking from her lobe to the point of it.

Her ears were ablaze from the rapture he rewarded her. A winded noise clawed from her throat. “Please—”

Astarion ceased the movement of his dexterous finger, leaving it within her ardent balm for her to clench around. “Please what, lover?”

Silence. A few seconds more and still—nothing.

Astarion, abandoning his onslaught of her lobe—uneasily wondering if he performed wrong—moved to face her directly. Chest frantically heaving, Tav skewed her head in his direction. He noticed she was fighting the torrents of ravenous hunger that were trying to claim her, pushing back her permission to let everything go.

His garnet eyes narrowed as he reallocated her chin to ghost his brisk lips over her panting mouth. “Let go.”

Tav dropped her skirts, hastily sweeping her hands into his snowy curls to maneuver his head at the angle she preferred, and collided her lips roughly against him.

Where her kisses had been slow and intentional in the past, now, they were shameless gluttonous extensions of her neediness. She sucked on his upper lip, seductively licking it with her tongue. Astarion kissed her with an equal measure of intensity, kneading her lips, goading them to continue.

Her eyes were clenched shut, mewling unintelligible tales of her urges with her pecks. “I…gods…’Starion.”

Bombarding him with her lips, she continued to mold them over the pallored edges of his own. With stimulating swipes of her tongue along the underside of his jawline, back to his mouth, she consumed him like a tornado. He grabbed the back of her head, rigorously propelling her to seam her body to his torso in a firm hold.

“I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t,” her teeth nibbled sinfully on his lower lip while she mumbled her words hoarsely. “But, I…more…than…I…”

Musical hands lightly massaged themselves over his chest, splaying over his frosted skin. Tav’s face mantled into a flustered expression. A confession she seemed to try and cover by way of kissing him again, boldly endeavoring to slide her tongue past his lips.

There was a sharp intake of his breath through his nostrils, and suddenly, he leaned away from her, breaking their fevered motions. Usually, during his multiple dalliances, tongue kissing was not given a second thought. It came as a natural detail of his one night stands in debauchery. But, given their accidental journey together, Astarion knew it held a—deeper, intimate—meaning that denoted a relationship he wouldn’t or was incapable of having with Tav.

This was about transactions, not falling in love.

He needed to deflect.

“Mmm, darling. You are delicious, but kiss me as you have been with only those succulent lips of yours. It’s what makes me want to completely ravage you.”

She patiently nodded.

Perfect.

He felt it. The tug. That corrupt allure within his stomach. To overtake her. A bedevilment of his own temperament. To drain her entirely of that crimson that kept her alive. His vampiric wrath, driven by his hunger for blood. And by the way she peered up at him through those nymph like lashes as if he were a god—

It was enough to make him erect for the night. To distance himself from their sordid interlude just enough to get it over with.

Palming at her skirt, he slid it down her legs, leaving her naked—save for her blouse. He rose back up, leaving random pecks on her thighs, stomach, and arms before stopping at her neckline. Lazily, he tapped his lips along her décolletage, savoring her temperature.

Tav busied herself touching his lower abs, tracing the lines of his muscles as if to memorize him. He grinned into her skin when he felt her unlacing his trousers.

“Is this okay?” She asked cautiously.

Why did she…?

He plunged his hand betwixt them, piloting her to cup his hard bulge. “I can’t wait to be buried inside of you.”

Her heart chambers palpitated; a befitting hymn to his ears. She rubbed his length through his pants, feeling the outline of his cock with slender fingers. Pivoting her hand, the bard crossed over his lacings, finally pulling his shaft from its restricted position.

Introverted as she was, this was a woman that liked to equally grant bliss in the bedroom. It mimicked how she lived her daily life when she wasn’t exercising heaven in her sheets with a lover. Her authenticity was tried and true. An insight that pleased Astarion.

The squeeze she gave the head of his cock was a prelude to the pumps she moved up and down over it. Precum beading, she spread it in smooth twists with her hand. He groaned a punishing sound into the velvet of her throat.

“Hold onto me.”

He collected her hands from her pandering strokes, kissing her knuckles, then led them to thread around his neck. With his strength gripping beneath her ass, he lifted her, coaxing her legs to wrap around his lean waist.

His cock laid heavy amidst her drenched labia, nuzzling against her throbbing clit. She moaned loudly for him, like an immoral nun spread eagle on a pristine bed of white, seeking sanctuary through orgasm. He pistoned his stiff sex, teetering her nub on his tip while he balanced her against the tree. Tav’s mouth chased after him, successfully landing hotly on his lips, subduing her voracious sobs.

The head of his cock caught on her pink pearl several times as he deliberately stuffed himself between her slippery lips. He teased her entrance, inserting a centimeter of his erection before abruptly pushing up through the scope of her vulva. At this angle, it would have been so easy to slide right into her—to take her as hard as he could imagine.

During a particularly motivated drive through her folds, one of the florets unattached itself from her plait and hung midair near the side of face. She started giggling.

Cute.

Allowing her to continue her kisses on his cheek, Astarion slowed his hips, momentarily shifting his weight to yank the bloom from her hair. “The banality of flowers. Always making the grueling effort to wither away.”

Tav aptly touched a petal, seemingly admiring its shape. “That’s why they are to be cherished; a fleeting moment of their beauty that slows down time.”

Her poison was too potent.

The edges of his vision softened considerably. Awe dimly drew up the muscles around his mouth.

And then, a slip up.

“In another life I—” he forcibly blocked himself, becoming aware of his near fumble.

What the bloody fuck was I about to tell her?! In another life, I would have what?! In another life, you wouldn’t have been a victim. In another life, I wouldn’t have manipulated you for my benefit. In another life, I may have asked to properly court you.

His throat scalded with bile.

Rushing forward, he crushed his mouth against hers, wiping the confusion from her expression.The songstress stuttered out a few heady breaths as she mounted her hands back around his neck. He tightened his grip under her thighs, turning her around to lay her down in a plot of leaves and dirt.

But, now the time was ripe for dread. The undertaking that condemned him to a disassociating hell. Where his undead heart turned a blackened void, striving to escape the horrendous weight of yet another tallied mark of copulation in his memory.

On the ground she laid, ethereal in the beams of moonlight. Dark ash brown hair outspread like a duvet. Picked flowers falling out of place to gracefully nest in her strands.

Astarion shimmied out of his unlaced trousers, his pale erect cock bobbing before his newest target. He kneeled, surrounded by her robust legs. Tav sheepishly smiled up at him, her balletic hands making contact with the hem of her blouse, pulling it over her head, revealing large breasts.

The vampire loomed over her, lowering his weight onto her body. He steadied himself on one arm, brushing his fingers up her ribs. A long puff of air floated out of her lungs when he groped her tit in his hand. And, gods, he could smell her emulsive arousal almost leaking outside of her slit.

He prowled his tongue down her clavicle to the heap of her bosom until he felt her writhing. Tav’s ample areolas were the lightest shade of pastel pink that disappeared into her ivory tone. The buds of her breasts, a luscious dusky rosette, primed for Astarion to suck. She clamored when he pinched her nipple.

The tip of his tongue bumped her nipple and her hands flew to his head, assertively pressing him into her bosom. Her nails scraped his scalp tenderly, earning her a deep growl. A flat moistened tongue swathed around her sensitive pert berry with a keened breezy sigh before he nipped at it between his front teeth.

Ah, she was so responsive to him. Wreathing her legs around his hips. Grinding her pelvis into him. Seeking the friction only he could grant her.

“Astarion…,” she murmured gingerly, still massaging his scalp.

He continued sucking on her nipple, swiftly licking it when her breathing calmed. She screamed his name when he bit into her bud a final time before viewing her under dark lashes.

“Gods, Astarion! I want you inside of me!”

The spawn nodded, crawling back up her body to linger above her. He kissed her lips serenely: once, twice, a third time. Then, he pecked the inside of her wrist, motioning for her to rest her flourishing hands on his shoulders.

Firmly clutching his cock, he lined it up with her entrance. He stared into the pane of her eyes, wondering briefly how he would look as he entered her. Was his fervor passable enough?

“Ready, songbird?”

Tav shook her head.

As the crown of his cock breached her opening, the caged canary unobtrusively whistling between her two lungs, closed off its song. She held him close to her the further he pushed in, stretching her to a perfect form around his thickness, gasping into his throat.

Oh, she was tight.

So. Very.

“Tight,” he hissed.

He bucked into her languidly, her juices smothering him. Hells, when was the last time his cock had been thoroughly clenched in this way? Her cunt was hot and dripping and snug and—

Scars. She encountered his scars. An impalpable tremor in remembrance bloomed across his back. Raised and undead—along with the rest of him—an intricate framework branding him as Cazador’s slave. The pads of her fingers touched them with frugal dabs, as if he were a piece of blown glass that would break. He stilled.

Astarion wrestled with the notion of how to respond. Ruining the moment with laments of his past tortures, would not be fortuitous for him. He could ignore it entirely, subvert her attention with a pinch of her clit. Though, that ran the risk of eventually confronting the ‘elephant in the room’—so to speak.

But, the bard with her gods damned noble tenderness, cupped both of his cheeks with a kiss above his brow.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered thoughtfully.

He blinked several times, his thoughts in a race to catch up with the feeling of her gentleness in his arms. Astarion couldn’t take it. It unsettled him in ways he didn’t understand.

And then, he was fucking her at a punishing speed, a wicked entity moving his shaft all the way out before ramming it back into her. His mouth found hers, stifling her cries.

All the pale elf could think about was the promise of her guardianship. No matter how much he despised her, sex with her was the stipulation of their unspoken contract. It would be over soon until they needed to make another trade.

Blood and aegis for companionship.

Forgive him gods, for Astarion has sinned. As he fornicates and bites, covered in blood. The tabernacle, his for the taking. He knows in the cavernous pit of his being, He’ll do it all again.

And the detachment came. The scarlet gaze a million miles away. He neither felt nor heard anything. Not Tav’s shouts of pleasure. Not even the tepidity of her charitable caress she was once hesitant to forfeit. He was nothing more than an artificer for seduction.

Automatically, his haunches maneuvered themselves in a lunging manner. He was not present. He didn’t need to be. If he could only remain floating a distance away from his body, then—

“—me.”

Fuzzy interference. A voice maybe?

“rion… ite…me.”

Tav. That instrument in her voice box. Always a song upon the winds. Always reining him in.

“Astarion, bite me,” Tav pleaded.

All his senses returned at once. The outlines of her facial features were no longer a blur. Her sounds: a resplendent wonder from the vaults of Mount Celestia.

The heap of her long waves were swooshed away from the front of her shoulder and neck. Her head drifted to the side with a blush rising up to clothe her satiny skin.

He relaxed his thrusts, baffled at her invitation during the height of their passion.

“I trust you,” she assured him, fingers sailing into his silvery curls.

His mouth twitched.

A kiss attentively fixed on her temple. His short-tempered thirst roared from within. Fangs cruising to the vein he heard pounding in his ear. Prepping her with savory pecks and sucklings.

The bite pierced through her taut flesh. She wailed, scrabbling at his body, trying to merge herself with him. He moved his hand to finger her aching clit, brushing against it with chilled touches.

Her addictive crimson poured into his mouth in glorious splurts of an exquisite delicacy, filling him rapidly with her heat. He huskily growled into her neck as his hips started to resume their vigor. Astarion lapped at her blood as he felt his vitality sprinting through him.

A lithe finger moved Tav’s swollen nub in circles, at times, spreading her clear fluids to easily stimulate her arousal. He could feel his fingers receiving the warmth from her blood in nascent layers throughout his appendages. She whimpered so well for him as he kept a steady rhythm with his hardness tunneling into her cunt.

The contractions of her walls was an indicator of her oncoming climax. Further, he slid in and out of her, submerged in her gushing moisture. Pushing his knee to sit higher under her leg so he could angle his cock deeper, a grunt filled his chest as her slit squeezed him tightly.

“Ooo…fuck…you feel…I’m going to cum soon,” she announced breathlessly.

Then, her crescendo began and she arched her back—their bodies slick with sweat. She sang in depraved sobs, whilst she ensnared Astarion’s engorged manhood, spasming around it with a flood of her cum. He lifted from his feeding, licking the trickles of blood down his chin, praising her with red smeared downy kisses on her face.

Yet, as the fates often have other plans for people, he peered to his right—with an unusual phantom yank on his bleating soul—to find an identical soul mate mark, matching his own, in the juncture between Tav’s shoulder and her outer collarbone.

“Fuck,” he croaked under his breath, slowing his thrusts.

Her heart was a pandemonium screaming out for him. And with every elated thrash of her pulse, he felt the marking behind his ear stirring in dreamy tingles.

He felt nauseous.

Until, it finally subsided.

Astarion slipped out of her as she was coming down from her orgasm, kneeling back on his knees. Tav rolled over onto her side in the fetal position, billowing noises like a gentle lullaby.

“Would you like to lay next to me?”

He didn’t want to be touched. Not right now.

“As appetizing as you were, I need a few moments to arrange myself.”

“We can just lay here. Nothing more—if that’s what’s best for you,” she yawned.

What? Why?

Astarion didn’t respond, instead focusing on putting on his trousers. Tucking himself behind his lacings, he lowered himself to the forest floor, laying inches from the exhausted bard. He turned on his side, noticing she had already fallen into a deep trance.

He tested her slumber by stroking her arm with the back of his index finger. Tranquil mutterings passed through her sleeping lips. She had never looked so peaceful before. Her skin was suddenly softer to him, cooler to the touch from his earlier bite that devoid her of blood.

With discreet strokes, his fingertip outstretched to connect the beauty spots of her soul mark. They were coffee shaded dots, compromising the shape of a falling star—or so it appeared to him.

There were very few things Astarion could recall from his mortal life, but seeing this—knowing the same marking was imprinted on his flesh—for the first time in two centuries, filled him with rage.

It was a painful reminder of everything he had lost, including the ability to experience real connection with another. His history that should have remained underneath six feet of dirt in the graveyard that housed his tombstone.

A piece of his humanity: once lost in time, now a living memory.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate tav #baldur's gate #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #tav #astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion acunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #epistles of saints & sinners #bard tav #spawn astarion #female tav #fem!tav

[anderstrevelyan]

Oh gosh, I have to ask about Viconia

Viconia DeVir, my beloved!! (answering questions about my WIPs here)

This one comes out of my early decision to play my Dark Urge as her son—the one she can have with Gorion's Ward at the end of bg2. That version of her epilogue slide also kills her off. Possibly my most surprising and dramatic game moment ever actually, when Valas made it to Baldur's Gate and was confronted with his presumed dead mother!!!

So this piece is me reconciling that: how Viconia could have gone from having fled the Underdark after refusing to sacrifice a child, to having a child of her own, to choosing to sacrifice a child's future to Shar. It's a very zoomed-out character study kind of thing.

Here's a bit of her meeting and falling in love with Valas's father, Feron:

But something about Shar spoke to Viconia’s heart. The lady of darkness and loss, for someone born in the darkness, made from it, who lost everything she’d ever had or ever hoped for.

It should have been enough, this new faith, as she fought to survive such a bright world. And it was, until she made it all the way south to sunny Amn. She wasn’t surprised, when the self-righteous saw under her cloak and decided to put her to flame—but she was angry, and fought with everything she had as they tied her to wood and shouted about the supposed evils of the drow. That’s when Viconia saw him: gray eyes meeting hers across the crowd, black hair past his chin, and a face she remembered, a little, from the stories and from the siege. He spilled blood that day, that Bhaalspawn, but not before trying to talk her tormentors down, and not for the endless thirst of the god who made him—but for her. For what’s right, he’d told her later, after inviting her to join his disparate camp. I know what it’s like, for people to assume the worst from you on sight. She tried not to trust him, too, this surfacer, this stranger, this male—this Feron. Did her best to keep him away, with sharp glares and a sharper tongue, but he’d stayed curious. Calm. Persistent, in his honest words, even when hurt clouded his face. So she’d sat with him, by campfire’s light or in tavern’s corner, and told him about her life, all the things she’d never given voice, until candor turned to longing, to lust, to understanding—and trust began to grow despite herself. He called it love, the feeling that beat in her heart and clouded her mind when she looked into his face. She called it weakness, the ache that swallowed all else when he wasn't at her side. Yet somehow, somewhere between the night she spent merely wrapped in his arms—breathing, satisfied, safe—and the day he spurned the chance to become a god, she started to call it love, too.

#bg3 #my writing #viconia devir #gorion's ward #feron devir #valas devir #(I'm drawing so much on Viconia's bg2 romance here)

[cleabellanov]

hi and welcome to my ted talk about the latest episodes of what if, please read through 💙 (1)

Kahhori is an absolute badass. In her episode, "What if Kahhori reshaped the world" , what I enjoyed the most was hearing the Mohawk language. What a beautiful sound, really.

And the determination we got to see in this character, in just 30 minutes of animated screentime? So cool

Looks like the Tessaract isn't done telling stories, and imo, actually good ones!!

AAAND OMG.

This was a plot twist I thought about, but in the end did not see coming. By the end of the episode, I was expecting The Watcher to narrate the conclusion to this story, and how, out of so many universes, this one got to be. In peace, without wars because of borders and thirst for powers, thanks to the brave Kahhori. Maybe that's what happens, right? After a while.

But for now...

Strange Supreme appears! Looks like we finally know who he was talking to.

But what is he doing? First, he meets Kahhori, then, in episode 8: "What if the avengers assembled in 1602" Peggy/Captain Carter. Of course, the two know each other since the events of season 1. They're Guardians of the Multiverse, right?The Watcher called them like this too.

Logically, this has to do with episode 9: "What if...Strange Supreme intervened?".

Looks like he is already marching his steps in new universes, looking for allies, both old and anew. Personally, I've been waiting since I knew the title of the last episode to see what happens.

The Watcher has an oath, right? He can't interfere. But Strange Supreme is not just a watcher, he's a very powerful sorcerer, and can leave his marks on another universes if he chooses to.

I think this might be a mission. Similar to how we saw in season 1, but on another level, maybe. The Multiverse right now is "a prism of endless posibilities", but is it safe? Or are they going to make it so?

Also, maybe it's not a mission after all, and it's not about saving, but about discovering. Discovering their variants, and making peace for those who need it.

Whatever the reason, it better be a good one.

Oh, wait, and why were the "tornados" in 2x08 green? Did they use to be like that? I'll say something about that too.

#what if spoilers #marvel #what if #doctor strange #strange supreme #superheroes #comics #magic #infinity stones #infinity saga #multiverse saga #marvel team #marvel fan #fangirling #overalls #animated series #captain carter #stephen strange #kahhori

[eboneeblak]

Touched (Short Story)

A supernatural Southern Gothic tale. (6 minute read)

CW: Ableism, Murder, and Domestic Violence

Everything is black, an endless pit of nothingness. In the void, where no constraints exist, I gleefully experience many sensations. The sound of ambiance lingers around me. The air feels…fuzzy on my skin. The cool grassy earth beneath me sinks. Gravity weighs down on my shoulders, rendering me still. I wince. There is a sharpness that pokes at my flesh. Annoyed, I clench my hands and pull!

Go away.

Go away.

Go away.

GO AWAY!

“Ophelia, baby!”

I hear a voice from outside, and the comforting blanket of nothingness passes away. Finally, I open my eyes; it is my mother. Her eyebrows furrow with concern. Her velvety, well-manicured hands clasp mine. I see a clothing tag in it.

Stupid itchy tags.

“Baby, Sister Inez was askin’ how

speech therapy was goin’?”

It was dark now, and we were still alone in the church's parking lot. Choir practice only lasts two hours. However, in my mother’s usual fashion, her chatting forced us to stay late. My eyes glaze over Sister Inez, and I notice her scowl. Her burgundy lipstick lips tighten.

“It’s going okay.”

I look down at my shiny black shoes that Mother bought, notice the cute bows, and excitedly squiggle my toes inside.

“Ophelia has only been in it a few

weeks; the therapist says it can take a

while for her to catch up to regular

kids.”  

Sister Inez’s judgmental eyes gawk at me, sharp enough to pierce a gaping hole.

“That daughter of yours reminds me of

someone; she was also a little…

different.”

For a woman who proclaims to be so holy and sanctimonious, Sister Inez has barely mustered an ounce of empathy and kindness towards me and my mother since we arrived several months ago.

         “We’ll pray and hope she turns out

better.”

Mother and I had to travel across four states to escape my father’s abuse; the place where we are supposed to be safe has yet to make us feel welcomed.

“I’m afraid we can’t pray away what

Ophelia got goin’ on.”

“What a shame.”

My mother’s soft palms began to feel clammy and tense; I must escape this conversation.

“Water.”

I make a beeline for the church.

“Ophelia, don't take too long, dear.”

Cold water splashes into my mouth. A creaky air conditioner buzzes above, and the sound is deafening. I look around, continuing to quench my thirst. New Hope A.M.E. has seen better days; vinyl walls peel away, revealing the 200-year-old frame. Beneath the wooden floors is a mismatched array of new and old bark, with small cracks cascading across the floor, each getting larger and larger….

“What is that?”

It’s a shadow. My eyes lift, revealing a dark figure of a woman. I blink, and she vanishes. A chill shivers throughout me. My body stiffens; a deep scream traps itself in my throat. Slowly, my eyes search the room. Passing the wooden doors, there's a loud creak; instinctually, I follow the sound.

Moonlight beamed through the colorful stained windows, accentuating the dusty pews. As I inch down the aisle, the old floor bends under my weight with each step.

Demons?

My eyes examine the small, quaint church back and forth. The pulpit sits steeply above the congregation. “Minister Hezekiah Thomas” is embellished in gold on an oversized dark cherry chair. It stands tall like a throne directly in the middle of the pulpit.

A foggy memory clouds my mind.   

                                                      

Evil…

Minister Thomas’s boisterous sermon lingers in my head.

“Demons often disguise themselves as human and come to earth to harm us good Christian folk.”, so he says.

But why didn’t that woman hurt me?

Could she be something else?

Gravity rushes past me, I'm suddenly falling. Bracing my hands, I strike the hard floor, wincing in pain. I had just fallen on the edge of a staircase. The red carpet is beaten and worn. Flustering, I push myself up. There's a shrill, almost childlike cry from above, then I see her…

Her eyes glowing…

                   Her face was veiled in black.

                                 She stands still…

                                                 Watching me…                                          

“Who are you?”

Before I could utter the last syllables, she vanished. Footsteps run above me. I dash past the staircase, loudly creaking as I stomp my way up.

At the top, there’s a small corridor. A small bulb dimly lights the hallway. To the right, a door is wide open. Hanging from it is a sign that reads “Minister’s Office.” I catch my breath. A cold breeze brushes past my body. Trembling, I tread inside.

The smell of mothballs burns into my nostrils. Minister Thomas’s office is quaint but heavily decorated. White curtains cover a large window that overlooks the church’s parking. A worn bible is on his desk, and a family portrait is next to it.

I pick it up; it's Minister Thomas; he wears large silver-wired glasses that match his salt and paper hair. Next to him is First Lady Thomas and his four teenage sons; they all smile except for her. I place the framed picture down and notice an open drawer below.

I persist through piles of paperwork until I notice the back of a photo. I turn it around and see a couple, but I could hardly make out their faces.

Quickly, I pull the curtains back and re-examine the photo.

The woman’s smile is bright, her coily hair is pulled tightly into a French roll, and her eyes shimmer with colorful eye shadow. Next to her is a visibly younger Minister Thomas.

                    “Could this be her?”

I look out the window; Mother and Sister Inez are gone. The office doors slam behind me! A familiar chill touches my skin; a strong force holds me still. I look down and see no arms. My heart palpates. Slowly, I turn my head, quivering in fear.

Large, black, and socketless eyes stare back; a decaying black veil covers her face. What should be her mouth widens, and an ear-splitting cry erupts.

The scream wrestling within me explodes. There's a loud banging on the door. I shut my eyes.

                          “Ophelia!”

I cry out in terror, stricken with fright.

                             

  “Please don't hurt me, demon!”

I am held tighter.                   

                   

            “Ophelia, open your eyes, baby!”

It’s my mother's voice. I open my eyes to see her warm almond ones staring back. Relief washes over me, and I collapse into her arms.

“This girl has no business being in

Minister Emmanuel's office. It is

strictly off-limits!”

My mother's soft, plush skin calms me.

—————————————————————

           “What scared you back there,

honey?”

I squeeze Mr. Charlie, my stuffed bear. The old Honda Civic bumps over the dirt road leading away from the church.

“Was Minister Thomas married to

another woman?”

My mother has a stunned look on her face.

          “Why do you ask that, baby?”

I shrug my shoulders.

                      “Just curious.”

She sighs.

     “He was a long time ago, according to

Sister Inez. Her name was Violet. She

was quiet, kind of like you.”

       “Do you know what happened to

her?”

My mother stares at me through the rear-view window; she grips the steering wheel harder.

“Well, Sister Inez says Minister Thomas always seemed angry at her. Said she couldn't bear any children for him. After a while, she stopped showing up at church. Then, one day, Minister Thomas announced to the congregation that the poor girl cracked her skull on a gardening hoe and died. There was no funeral; she just disappeared, everyone moved on, and he got a new, pretty wife, First Lady Thomas.”

I look down at the photo studying Violet’s face.

           “What you got in your hand,

baby?”

I stuff the photo into the pocket of my velvet dress and lean back into my seat. I watch the maze of trees pass us by.

      “You saw her poor ghost, too,

didn't you?”

I stare at my mother through her rear-view mirror; slowly, I nod my head.

   "I don't believe a garden hoe killed her,

Mama."

My mother rolls down the window and lights a cigarette.

                   "Me neither, baby."

I sink back into my seat and close my eyes, waiting for a pool of darkness to embrace me and retreating into nothingness. Instead, a pair of large socket-less eyes gaze back at me.

Demons ain’t the only ones harming us.

                                                                                                                                                            THE END.

#southern gothic #southern goth aesthetic #goth #flannery o'connor #supernatural #ghost #ghost stories #rural #rural america #rural aesthetic #deep south #horror #alternative #autism #actually autistic #writers on tumblr #black tumblr #religious imagery #tw religious themes #alt girl #goth aesthetic #angelcore #coquette #short story #black literature #literature