writing-of-a-british-bitch

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Here is a free pdf of the players handbook

Here is a free pdf of xanathars guide to everything

Here is a free pdf to monsters manual

Here is a free pdf to tashas cauldron of everything

Here is a free pdf to dungeon master’s guide

Here is a free pdf to volo’s guide to monsters

Here is a free pdf of mordenkainen’s tomb of foes

For all your dnd purposes

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

I've been thinking a lot about the way Tech and Crosshair speak, how they sound very different but there's a similarity in how precise and measured their voices are.

And now I have the following headcanons:

- Crosshair and Tech are tube twins and they're the youngest of the batch. 

- Crosshair was either nonverbal or selectively mute as a cadet. There was a time where the only person he'd murmer things to was Tech and Tech would 'translate' for him. 

- In contrast, Tech's always been super verbal but he still struggled to communicate for a while. He used to stumble over words and run out of breath a lot. Maybe he had a stutter. His thoughts just moved so fast that he felt like his voice couldn't keep up. 

- So anyway both of them had speech therapy and that's why their accents are different to the rest of the clones thank you for coming to my TechTalk

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

being a writer is sometimes just like

“she raised the sword - *stares out of the window for three minutes* - high above her head, its- *plays with pen* - silver skin glinting in the- *gets up and walks around the room* - golden sunlight. her face- *opens tumblr*

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Weapon & Wound.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader

Summary: Struggling with her own identity, constantly fighting her impulsive nature and running from the many regrets of her past, Tav had given up on most parts of her life, until she was abducted. 

Now, Tav feels this strange instinctive responsibility to help this growing group of weirdos she’s amassing. People she’s never felt more at home around. And, maybe, she’s started to hope that if she’s able to get them all out of this mess, she’ll be relieved of the shame. The guilt she hasn’t been able to escape.

Although, whenever she finds herself with a certain pale elf, Tav can’t help but feel, even if everything went to shit and she fucked everything up again, that she might just be content to lay in his arms. 

What a dangerous feeling.

Word Count: 4.7k

Link - - - - - > Ao3

Earlier than he would usually slip into the forest, driven by the hunger of his failed hunt the night before, Astarion had left the campsite. Treading lightly along his usual path, Astarion only just succeeded in controlling his breath at the sight of a panther purring quietly in a opening beside him. 

It’s pelt shined as it bathed in the orange light of dusk. He noted that it’s coat wasn’t interrupted with any scarring, despite it obviously being an adult, and briefly mused that it might be a lost pet.

Astarion distracted himself briefly with a thought of the beast attentively sitting by his feet, guarding him as his sat on some ornate throne. He smiled. Then registered the seat and surrounding room he’d imagined was just memories of Cazador’s palace. What a ridiculous thing, to be back there in every thought, every hope. 

He almost pitied the thought of disturbing its regal bliss. He’d been turned long enough to know better than to entertain any thoughts of refusing his nature. This was the hand fate had dealt him, forced to go from temptation to temptation: a rat, a beast, a boar. Whatever would satiate. He had some liberty now: my hunger is my own. He told himself, hoping to find some meaning in the phrase as he whispered it.

In the precious minutes he’d slide by, the creature’s slowly pumping heart overtook every other sound. Astarion attempted focus, though his desire throbbed, reacting different to the other things he’d hunted. The smell of its blood silenced any coherent thoughts as he drifted behind it. The aroma filled his mouth, now wet with want, it tasted somehow familiar like a favourite childhood dinner that he’d long forgotten. His body begged him to take it in his teeth. 

Astarion loomed over muscle and the flesh; its fur was a tar pit trap. He was nothing but a blind fool, drawn into a void.

⭐︎

Fawn yowled awake at the piercing puncture of a dagger between her ribs, followed by a weight over her back legs of some creature that had latched itself into her neck. She thrashed around and clawed at anything she could reach; an arm. Struggling to free herself from its grip, Fawn shifted back to her normal body, her pain instantly dissipating, and finally turned to face her assailant.

“Ff- What?” Escapes Astarion’s mouth as he finds himself biting around air and halfway on top of a semi-naked Fawn, her stoney-blue skin was untainted and only covered by a white-lace, sheer bra and these matching ruffled undershorts.

She knocked the dagger away from where it fell beside her. “Gods. Get the fuck off of me!” She finally spits as she shoves him hard, on his chest. 

The rest is posted on Ao3 !!

⭐︎

Sneaky Jump Ahead: (spoilers)

Her quick agreement left Astarion wide-eyed, but only for a moment. A devilish smirk replaced his shock: “I’ll be, uh- more gentle this time. Shall we get comfortable?” Fawn plopped down in the dry grass and crossed her legs, it was still warm beneath her but the last of the sun had quickly disappeared. ‘Make your mark.’ Another warped murmur escaped from somewhere deep within. Astarion cleared his throat as he knelt down next to her- the fabric of his trousers resting against her exposed thigh. “I was hoping you would…” He mimed a straight line with his hands. “Might make things easier.”  Fawn considered his request for a beat and then dutifully laid back for him. Staring at him as he leaned over and placed his hands on the ground above her shoulders. Just as she started to wonder what she would do with her own hands, Astarion leant in and pierced her neck. The shock of his cold fangs made Fawn gasp and involuntarily reach for his waist.  Trying to steady herself, Fawn grabbed a handful of his shirt with one hand and a tuft of grass with the other, and the warmth of his lips sucked at the fresh wound in her neck. She noticed the quickened beating of her pulse and lifted her body just slightly off the ground; she leant into his bite, she leant into him. A breath she had been holding in escaped her. As if in response, she felt Astarion’s lips hover over her neck as he heaved before reattaching himself, like a mage hand had pulled him forward. He was feverishly trying to gulp down her blood. Fawn didn’t need the tadpole to know the only word on his mind was ‘More’. Attempting to get a better grip or angle into her taste, Astarion’s fingers mindlessly found themselves against her jaw and turned her head. In chorus with this frustration he hitched his knee over and straddled her lower-half for the second time that evening. 

Fawn could begin to feel her blood flowing through him, her heartbeat was in his chest. She let out another short breath as she could unmistakably feel his erection pressed against her midriff. His grip had slipped from her jaw to the side of her neck bereft of his mouth and tightened, but she didn’t realise. A creeping numbing sensation washed through each artery. Every limb of hers started to buzz. She hadn’t felt it in years, the distinct tingling when your body is desperately trying to stay alive with less and less blood to do so. With the feeling, of course, came his face. His thin but prominent lips. The sharp pointed teeth that rested beneath them, well, sharp for a human. She wanted to retch. If it had been possible to recoil more into the ground, she would have.  “‘starion…” Fawn tried to mumble against his shoulder, fighting a lump in her throat. He was pressing all but her head into the grass now, lost in his hunger for this new essence. With each separate gulp Astarion had started to move back then slightly forwards, he was unknowingly grinding himself against her. Fawn fought against the memories pricking against her skin, the memories of her mistakes, her past, her lover. It was like Astarion was draining the secrets from her veins. “Salvatore.” Shit. She hadn’t meant to say that aloud. She hadn’t meant to say anything at all. As if she didn’t have enough festering in her skull. Luckily, Astarion was far too enamoured by her wet, hot blood to have heard her. She silently thanked the sky; no time for confessions, she resolved.

With her slip, came an urgency. She didn’t want him to know of her gift, as Salvatore had called it. It might make turning him down in the future… difficult. So, with the last of her strength she put a hand to his neck and pushed: “Stop.” she managed less of a mumble than before. She squeezed her eyes shut.

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

i think getting a huge ass hug from halsin would cure everything that's wrong with me tbh or y'know just getting absolutely fucking railed by him... either-or, i'm not picky

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Canon doesn’t go into the downsides of the Batch’s mutations enough.

Show me how long it took before Hunter could handle loud noises without feeling like his skull was being ripped apart from the inside. Show me how the first time they were off Kamino must have completely overloaded his senses. Show me how even being surrounded by the electrical signals from the Marauder gets too much for him sometimes. Show me how he can’t always join his brothers to unwind at 79’s because the noise and the scents and the everything, it’s too much, but he can’t make it stop, he’ll never be able to make it stop.

Show me how all the rewiring of Tech’s memory played havoc with his mind. Show me the times when learning became something that frightened him rather than fascinating him, because there’s just so much that he needs to know in order for the GAR to deem him as useful, and if he slips up there’s no second chances. Show me how sometimes it felt like he wouldn’t be able to remember anything at all, not even who he was, because it’s physically impossible for him to process all of the information in his mind at once. Show me how having his memory so meticulously fine-tuned means that he’ll never be able to make himself forget the hours upon hours he spent trapped in a laboratory, the moment they realised the Republic was gone for good, the look in Crosshair’s eyes when they left him on that landing pad -

Show me just how bad Wrecker’s growing pains were, even worse than the normal ones from accelerated aging. Show me the toll that years of strain have taken on his body. Show me how his back aches almost consistently, how not even bacta can make it go away for good. Show me how reluctant he is to take any kind of real painkillers for it even when it’s at its worst, because he spent so much of his childhood (if it can even be called that) being hooked up to needles and machines. The pain is bad, but the memories are worse.

Show me how often Crosshair’s eyes got infected from being constantly operated on. Show me how difficult it is for him to fall asleep unless he’s in complete darkness. Show me what it was like to grow up on a planet where he was surrounded by blinding white every which way he turned. Show me Crosshair, who’d rather die than let himself be perceived as vulnerable, the elite sniper who should be unstoppable but somehow can’t stop himself from shying away from bright light, show me just how scared he is of ever going blind.

Show me exactly what the Kaminoans put them through to refine their enhancements into what they are today.

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Clone: *sees a small, abandoned child*

Latent Mandalorian genes: f o u n d l i n g

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

s3 au they’re all together having movie nights on pabu

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

live footage of me looking through all the new cassian andor content popping up

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Idk why but this is the vibe I am getting from Rebels Season 2

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN: It's a surreal world to be a part of. Coming back to it after all these years was very meaningful to me. My first day on set, I shouted "Obi-Wan!" I saw a hand go up. EWAN MCGREGOR: Obi-Wan Kenobi is this iconic character. I don't think I'd imagined the scale of the series. DEBORAH CHOW: So many people have such an emotional relationship to the Star Wars galaxy. It's in everybody's life. #I'M NOT GOING TO SURVIVE THIS #I'M NOT GOING TO SURVIVE SEEING ANY OF THEIR FACES #I'M NOT GOING TO SURVIVE SEEING BEHIND THE SCENES FOOTAGE OF HAYDEN'S ROBE BEING PUT ON HIM #I'M NOT GOING TO SURVIVE SEEING FOOTAGE OF THEM PRACTICING THE FIGHT SCENES #I'M NOT GOING TO SURVIVE SEEING HAYDEN IN FULL VADER MAKEUP IN CLEAR NON-MURKY SHOTS PROBABLY SMILING #I'M NOT GOING TO SURVIVE IMAGINING ANAKIN COMING BACK TO THE LIGHT THAT WAY #I'M NOT GOING TO SURVIVE THE OLD FOOTAGE OF PREQUELS BEHIND THE SCENES FOOTAGE WITH EWAN AND HAYDEN FROM AOTC AND ROTS #I'M NOT GOING TO SURVIVE THEM SMILING #AND GOD FORBID WE SEE FOOTAGE OF SOMEONE STYLING EITHER OBI-WAN OR ANAKIN'S HAIR #I WILL EXPIRE ON THE FUCKING SPOT #I AM NOT GOING TO SURVIVE ANY OF THIS!!!

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Finding out they gave Hayden full luxurious ROTS Anakin hair and then proceeded to not show a single frame of it in Kenobi.

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

EWAN MCGREGOR & HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN OBI WAN KENOBI: A JEDI’S RETURN

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

i never want to see another “owen was abusive” take in my entire life. delete them all, i won’t stand for them. “he is my own” ??? owen and beru ready to absolutely throw hands for their boy, even if there was no way out for the two of them ?????? owen keeping obi wan away for so long because he knew luke needed a normal childhood ???????? this man is an a+++++++ quality father and anyone who says hurdeedur he made luke work all day instead of going to the academy has obviously never met a farming family and doesn’t understand the amount of work that goes into it and how kids just naturally help out with everything, right up until they leave the house, which ALSO. owen knew it was way wayyyy too dangerous to send luke to the literal actual imperial academy but he didn’t want to hurt luke so he just put it off and put it off.

anyways this family is happy and cohesive and healthy and owen and beru are essentially the main reason why luke turned out the way he did, with all the tools he needed to become the greatest jedi alive, because he had a stable foundation for nineteen years, maybe ignorant about the rest of the galaxy but able to learn and grow and love because he had parents who loved him more than anything else.

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

I have this headcanon that the only reason why Yoda gave Anakin so much shit about his attachments was because he couldn't get through to any of the masters and needed someone to bitch around.

Obi-Wan going starry-eyed whenever Cody is mentioned. Plo tearfully talking about how his men called him 'dad' in the middle of battle. Aayla scrolling through honeymoon options on the holonet. Mace trying to argue why the clones need better armor and also holidays. Shaak Ti showing around the newest pictures the cadets drew for her.

Yoda: Forbidden, attachments are-

Obi-Wan: Attachments?

Plo: Surely, you must be joking.

Aayla: What even are attachments, anyway.

Mace: Master Yoda, to even imply such a thing ... honestly, I thought you were better than this.

Shaak Ti: Master, I am truly wounded by your distrust.

Yoda: ...

Yoda, shaking: Go bully the bitch boy, I must.