#┊┊ ✧ ⚔︎ ✧ ┊┊ visage.

[quartzhearted]

about / interview / stats / thread tracker

⚔︎ it's everybody's FAVORITE FATHER!!!!! ⚔︎ strong of heart strong of ass. that's how it goes right ⚔︎ you'll hear him laughing a day before he arrives anywhere ⚔︎ Ask Me About The Cathedral! (don't)

basic info under the cut!

morion's existence treads lightly into engage spoiler territory, so i will likely be tagging a lot of things with engage spoilers/putting info under the cut. not EVERYTHING about him is spoilery, but contextualizing his existence at garreg mach certainly is.

[ ENGAGE SPOILERS HERE ]

as shown in his interview, morion has returned to life after being sacrificed to the fell dragon at destinea cathedral. he is not a corrupted in this state, but he does not have any memory of being stabbed by lyn / being sacrificed. he woke up after the war ended, so there are a lot of things he still does not know about (one of the bigger points being that diamant is now king of brodia).

[ END ENGAGE SPOILERS ]

more to be added as i see necessary!

[cursefought]

update

[motherloved]

tag dump

[oflac]

tag 02

[wardenduty]

tag drop <3

⚔ ooc // i’ll probably be awake to 3am for no reason

⚔ visage // can I get you a ladder so you can get off my back

⚔ in character // to the shadows with me

⚔ musings // why can't the dead stay in the ground where they belong

⚔ queue // isn't there something better we could be doing; queuing things perhaps

[auxmodi]

knife's kiss ⚔

sandor clegane x enemy reader drabble

summary: enemies but make it knife-to-throat tension in a war-torn tunnel, where he realizes you’re into it and doesn’t let you forget it.

warnings: knife play, enemies, hateful, angst, war, sexual tension,

The tunnels beneath the city were a labyrinth of stone, winding and claustrophobic, the air thick with dampness. You had lost track of how long you'd been down here, the noise of the battle above barely reaching your ears. Your mission was simple: get in, find your target, and finish what had started above ground.

You didn’t expect to encounter him.

The echo of heavy footsteps broke the silence. A shift in the air made the hairs on your neck rise. You'd been trained to sense danger, but this felt different. It wasn’t just another soldier lurking in the shadows.

You turned quickly, your hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at your side. The figure that emerged from the darkness wasn’t unfamiliar. Clegane.

Sandor Clegane. The Hound. The man you had tracked across the battlefield, the man who had become a symbol of everything you despised.

He was a giant of a man, his broad frame almost filling the narrow tunnel. His rough features were obscured by the low light, but you knew his face well. The scarred visage of a man who had seen too much, been through too much.

His eyes glinted with something between annoyance and amusement as they fixed on you.

“Still alive, are you?” His voice was a rough growl, full of hate and something darker. “Shame. Would’ve saved me the trouble.”

You stepped back, your back brushing against the cold stone wall of the tunnel. “I’m not here for you, Clegane,” you said, forcing the words out despite the knot tightening in your stomach. There was no room for hesitation now. “But I’ll finish this if I have to.”

The Hound smirked, an almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his mouth. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

His knife gleamed as he unsheathed it with a smooth, practiced motion. It wasn’t a big blade, but it didn’t need to be. There was no telling how much death it had seen, how many men it had claimed.

You kept your stance firm, your own blade drawn but not raised. It was an old game, this. The unspoken dance of two opponents sizing each other up, both knowing that any wrong move could lead to a swift end.

He took a step forward, and you instinctively mirrored it. The sound of his boots scraping against the stone was the only noise in the thick silence between you.

“Don’t waste your time,” Clegane said. “You can’t win this fight.”

You swallowed the bitterness rising in your throat. “We’ll see about that.”

Without warning, he lunged, his movements fast and controlled. You barely had time to react, but you stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade as it swished past you. The air smelled of sweat and blood, thick with the stench of battle that seemed to cling to him.

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t press the attack. Instead, he circled you like a predator, keeping his distance but never breaking his gaze. You could feel the weight of his attention, like a pressure on your chest.

“You think you’re the only one who’s fought this war?” he said, his voice rough but cutting through the tension. “You think I’m just some brute you can finish off without a second thought?”

“I don’t think anything about you, Clegane.” Your words were sharper now, fueled by a cold rage that surged within you. “You’re just another soldier to kill.”

The tension in the air thickened as he stopped pacing, his stance shifting slightly. His lip curled into a smirk. “Big talk for someone I could snap in half.”

The words should have frightened you, but instead, they only fueled the fire in your chest. “Try it.”

Without warning, he lunged again, this time faster, his knife moving with a deadly precision. You barely had time to react before the blade pressed to your throat, just beneath your jaw. The wall behind you was hard and unyielding, pinning you in place as his body loomed over yours. His free hand gripped your wrist, holding your dagger at bay.

“You like playin’ with knives?” he rumbled, his face inches from yours. “Let’s see how brave you really are.”

The knife didn’t cut, but the pressure was firm, deliberate. You tried to focus on your breathing, tried to suppress the traitorous heat spreading through your cheeks. Your pulse thundered beneath the blade, and you knew he could feel it.

The knife pressed harder, enough to send a sharp thrill down your spine. You should have been terrified, but instead, your pulse betrayed you, quickening for reasons that had nothing to do with fear.

He noticed. Of course he noticed. His dark eyes flicked to your throat, lingering, then back to your face. His expression shifted, just slightly, enough to make your breath catch.

“What’s this, then?” His voice was quieter now, low and rough, like he was trying to puzzle you out. “You’re not shaking. Should be shaking by now.”

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. His smirk deepened, slow and wicked, as realization dawned.

“Seven hells,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, almost disbelieving. “You like this don't you?”

“Get it over with,” you snapped, but your voice wavered, betraying you. The way your pulse thudded beneath his blade, the way your body refused to retreat even as it should have, it all gave you away.

His knife shifted, dragging along your skin in a deliberate, taunting stroke. “Don’t think I will,” he said, his voice rough and quiet, as though savoring the moment. “What kind of sick little thing enjoys a knife at her throat?”

“Fuck you,” you hissed, but the tremor in your voice only seemed to amuse him more.

He grinned leaning in closer, his nose nearly brushing yours. His scent, blood and dirt, filled your senses, overwhelming. “Afraid I’ll tell the others what a sick little thing you are? Or are you afraid I’ll do more?”

“Just do it.” you said, though your voice lacked conviction. Sandor’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might actually do it. But instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“I could,” he muttered. His words were a promise and a threat all at once. “But where’s the fun in that?”

The knife slid down again, tracing the hollow of your throat, a silent promise of what he could do. “You’re trembling,” he said, though there was no mistaking the smirk that tugged at his lips. “Not from fear, though, is it?"

Above, the rumble of war grew louder, shouts and the clash of steel echoing faintly through the tunnels. The walls trembled slightly, and dust fell from the ceiling.

Sandor’s eyes flicked upward, then back to you. “Lucky you,” he said, his voice rough but quieter now. “I’ve got bigger problems tonight than you.” he muttered, though his voice was rougher now, his breath warm against your skin.

But he didn’t move away.

Instead, his knife left your throat, only for his hand to take its place. His rough, calloused fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Stay alive,” he said, his voice low and full of promise. “I’m not done with you yet.”

And then he was gone, his massive form swallowed by the shadows, leaving behind only the ghost of his touch and the memory of his blade. You pressed a hand to your throat, your pulse still racing, and cursed yourself for the way your body ached for more.

The war raged on above, but all you could think about was Sandor Clegane, and the dangerous game you were now playing with him.

[diolanza]

@foremyth

ཀཀཀཀ⚔︎ཀཀཀཀ

Evanidus sat, one thigh-high boot crossed lazily over the other, gazing into the emerald eyes of his own reflection, easily caught up in his own sharp features. Only a couple hours to go until that night's performance and, save for an untied corset, he was ready to walk onto the stage. His anxiety had forced him to prepare far earlier than the rest of his crew band had. He wasn't one for singing, at least, not in front of an audience, but somehow his captain had heard his voice and had, understandably, fallen in love with it. He would never doubt his own talent, but he loathed performing for an audience. He wouldn't say no to his captain, and if they wanted him to sing, he would sing.

A knock on the door pulled him away from his own visage and towards the candy door to the trailer. A call came from the other side of the door, ❝ Doctor Evanidus! ❞ Only one of the crew would refer to him with his proper title, rather than his name alone. With a deep sigh, he rose to his feet and opened the door. Just as he had thought, he was met with one of the crew standing in the threshold, wide-eyed and shaking just slightly.

❝ ...You shouldn't be calling me doctor while we're here. ❞

❝ Sorry, sir, it's just...someone's here to see you. ❞

❝ Tell them to talk to Crescendo. ❞

❝ It's one of Big Mom's children, sir. Over by the stage. ❞

With a quirked brow, Evanidus stepped out of the trailer and looked towards the stage, expecting Perospero, the eldest son that he'd met previously. Instead, there was a man with purple-red hair standing at least three times the lead singer's height, clad in leather with a large fluffy scarf obscuring half of his face. His mind was already reeling with the sheer size of the man, despite his mother being considerably larger than either of them. His arms alone were probably wider than his head.

He gave a word of thanks to the person that had come to get him, before lightly pushing past them and striding towards the stage. He ran the many, many names he'd been given as he climbed the stairs to the stage, trying his best to figure out which member of the Charlotte family stood before him. He thought this one might have been Katakuri, if he was remembering correctly, but he'd let his guest introduce himself.

He sat himself on the edge of the stage, grinning warmly towards the other, ❝ You're a bit early for the show. ❞

[thefcrgcttencne]

thcfcrgcttencne - SELECTIVE  dark urge tav/companion from BALDUR'S GATE 3 | SERAS BEKAM | rogue - assassin, fighter - battle master | established jan '24 | MATURE THEMES AHEAD trigger warnings apply! - 21 + | rolled by the comedienne [ she/they] | 30+ | beta editor.

⚔ visage ⚔ aesthetic ⚔ hcs/meta ⚔ musing ⚔ caard ⚔ ask memes

⚔ Seras is an oc tav from baldur's gate 3 given to us by the lovely larian studios. He is a DARK URGE half wood elf who gives into the urge! This is crucial. There is no saving him. That being said, storylines where people try to are always welcome.

⚔ My activity level is neither here nor there, dependent on my life outside of this, and if the muse cooperates. This is a hobby, not a jobby, and our collective mental health will always come first.

⚔ Discord will be given out on a case-by-case basis.

⚔ Formatting will be minimal and ever-adapting as I relearn how this works. I've been rping in general for longer than I care to admit, but the only thing I'll hold my partners to is respect and understanding, which I will reciprocate.

⚔ I will post random one shots and drabbles to help my muse. Feel free to springboard off of them into a storyline if the urge strikes.

⚔ ships and smut - everyone's favorite topic. Seras is a multiship/multi-love interest character, but for canon purposes, @occultritch is his main LI. Discussion is required for such a line to even be considered. We ship with chemistry here. Trust needs to be built up between the writers involved. spicy aesthetics and the like might be posted here and there, but it's not my main focus here. That being said, I reserve smut for private messages, below the cut, or discord. If we're shipping, you'll have access to all. Must be 21+ to play.

⚔ As stated above, nsfw and mature themes will be present. Triggers will be tagged as [ ─  *  𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐓 ]. I will do my best to work with the cut as many of the topics approached here could be triggering.

⚔ Mains and preferred wp's are things that I'm fine with. Of course, I'm going to connect more with some people over others. That's only natural. However, if we have a storyline and you're feeling neglected, just message me. Sometimes I need a poke or a quick reminder to snap out of my tunnel vision. I'm human. One thing I do not indulge is exclusives. It's a very limiting concept and it dampens the creative process for me. It usually leads to manipulation and constant pressure to give attention to/write with and it's super triggering.

⚔ Lastly, please do not come to me with drama between writers. Unless there is an actual threat to someone I need to be made aware of, do not ask me to block or interact with any sort of nonsense like that.

⚔ DNI if you support racism, transphobia, underage characters for the purpose of smut, animal abuse, non-con, dub-con, or pedophilia.

[dwylafn-byeagain]

a bitch learned to use lights properly, and look how perfect she is

[trcstfunded]

                          ‘        -    after  all  he’s  done?  HOW  NOBLE  OF  YOU.        ’                                                                      random  edits  /  personals  do  not  reblog.

[blxsscd-x-fxrsakcn]

[cursefought]

the mods for the hair fucked up & now i can give my additional races some really convoluted & yet feasible pretty hairstyles.

[noconqueror]

sorry idk why i didn’t do this sooner but this is a tag drop

⚔.   VISAGE.

⚔.   MUSINGS.

⚔.   MOODBOARD.

⚔.   META.

⚔.   ANSWERED.

⚔.   MEMES.

⚔.   PLAYLIST.

⚔.   PROMO.

⚔.   OOC.

⚔.   VISERYS.

⚔.   RHAENYRA.

⚔.   HOUSE TARGARYEN.

⚔.   CARAXES.

[phoenixborn]

Tag dump

[fyreblood]

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒

[leoangelus]

Tag Dump!

[.⚔ leave the field and leave the fire, and find the flame of your desire - talks.

[.⚔ here’s a health to thy returning, his the royal blood unmingled, great the modesty in his visage - extras.

[.⚔ you were called to serve the country, you were called to serve the king - edits.

[.⚔ you know I am a righteous man, of my virtue I am justly proud - POV.