#( dialogue: zephyr )

[morewyckedthanyou]

Some more photos of that romance scene like I promised earlier because I just love these two together.

[lamneus]

bite of before christ

End of the crab saga In case you lost it, here is a link with all the pages https://x.com/sifyro/status/1734673319222292776?s=20 ----------- 🚨Get pinged for YCH's , Commission openings Here   ✏️Itaku   💕Merch ✏️Follow me on twitch ✏️Commission Info 💕Patreon   Other art sites wlo.link/@sifyro

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[smileflowcr]

Zephyr, 08/08/????, leo, aparenta 28 años, lycan.

[lady-zephyrine]

Hylics has weird dialogue, but at the same time I feel like that's how I sound to other people.

[emissaradia]

closed starter for @phyrofwild location: haven note: a brand new old man enters the villa

There were several people within Haven that she didn't really want to be there. If there was one thing Aradia had in common with her sister, it was that they were not the most pleasant people to be around. Althea was rude and Aradia was just...standoffish. Neither of them were particularly approachable, but she was still going to make an effort to make it look like Haven wasn't some lawless land that they were living in. Nevertheless, she was still practicing her weaving in her spare time. It had been difficult lately in her own mind which, in turn, made it difficult for her to weave at all. Everything felt unstable and she wanted to fix it. The one person she felt like talking to though was the one person she knew she couldn't. Eventually, the two of them would be on the same page, but now was not that time. Aradia had hope that it would happen though. They just needed time. As she weaved again, she lost control and a gust of wind sent leaves flying towards her. "Fuck." She turned around and then noticed the presence that had been there. "How long have you been standing there?"

[sun-marie]

Okay okay okay. So I'm insane about this game and I need somewhere to just. sort my thoughts

So, I am on my second playthrough, and I am definitely the kind of player that likes to replay the story and make the same choices, just exploring extra stuff I missed the first time. For example, my first pt I skipped the Gith Creche and missed a big chunk of Lae'zel's character quest, so this playthrough I did it. But I didn't like kill the tieflings when I sided with them in my first playthrough or something like that.

I bring this up because it's made for a very interesting situation regarding Astarion. See, the first time I played through the game, I considered Zephyr and Astarion to be pretty good friends in the end who butted heads a lot due to their conflicted moral compasses. He never got more than like mid-level approval of her, and his dialogue reflected that.

This playthrough has been different though, after a certain point he started calling her "my dear" and his "favorite traveling companion" in a sort of... heartbreakingly unnerving way? Imo, at least, but its beside the point. And then, when his siblings try to kidnap him at the Elfsong, when Zephyr asks if he has sympathy for them, he says "No one said a kind word word to me, you're the only one. Not everyone can be like you, you're special." (paraphrasing) Which is WILDLY different from how he reacted in my first pt, where he disapproved and basically said "Everything's different now, Cazador's going to be so mad once I kill him" (paraphrasing). And checking at this scene, his approval of Zephyr was, unexpectedly, mid-level. Around the same it would have been in my first playthrough.

And so I theorize that it must stem from the only extra thing I did this pt and not last pt regarding Astarion: I encountered the drow who wants him to bite her and I did not pressure him to do it. My first pt I just completely missed her, but in my current, we had kind of a sweet heart-to-heart afterward, and that's when the "my dear"s started.

If I'm correct, that's extremely cool to me, because it means that the drow encounter specifically meant something to him. Apart from the gameplay mechanic of "approval", he remembers this specific time Zephyr treated him like a person and not a tool and it left an impact on him and changed how he sees her. That is such organic character writing and the definition of companion reactivity, and is another example of how much care went into this game.

[thyminell]

Tell me yer jag headcannons

Yeah! Of course! Thank you for asking! I’ve had these done for a few days but have been really busy with real life!

Spoilers for both Cattails and Wildwood Story and Jag’s reasoning for coming for the Wildwood

-Part of their love for licorice is due to the fact that one of their parents would occasionally bring them one. It was… an acquired taste to say the least but eventually they grew to love it!

-Arthur would occasionally come and talk to Jag while they guarded. Arthur would try to tell them some grand tale about how they caught the biggest hare any cat had ever seen or something along those lines. Jag did appreciate the attempts to socialize, really, they did, but not while they are trying to protect Arthur and the rest of the Domain

-Arthur and Jag are also cousins but their conflicting personalities and schedules can occasionally result in arguments, typically from Jag

-Jag’s tail is shorter in Wildwood Story due to Ursa, who was a major reason why Jag left the Mountain Domain. Jag snapped at them about how they were a tyrannical leader, leading to Ursa striking back at them. Most of Jag’s injuries healed but their tail became infected so Luna had to remove part of it

-The above action was the last time Jag saw Luna or any other Mountain Domain cats as they quickly left to join the rest of the group leaving to the Wildwood

-Jag and Talon mutually respect one other for both being dedicated to their duties. This means that Krampy wanted to get to know Jag as well. Jag greatly respects the other cat’s ability to heal injuries but occasionally gets worried at the thought of their experiments causing harm to the colony or themself

-Jag doesn’t like Zephyr due to their flashy nature. Additionally, Jag doesn’t really understand why they’re famous

-Whenever a new cat joins the colony, Jag interviews them to see if they are a security risk

Hope you like these! Have a good day and night! ^^

Also a few sketches

[secret-swords-speakeasy]

"That's what you want to know? Of all the questions."

Zephyr shakes draer head.

"If you must know, it's nothing special, just a modified version of something I brought at a craft store. The story behind the cape is more intersting, but I'm not answering more questions tonight."

Ast huffs.

"And I'll have you know you only caught me because it's too cramped in here for me to go full speed."

-dragon

.

[teem-boo]

Kalgare is originally an RPG OC of mine, not rly knowing what the DG was for I made another RPG OC of mine, Zephyr (sorry i dont have any other screenshot of him 😭)

But my second run I decided to make my friend's OC, Rick Rocha from the same campaign Kalgare was originally from (i wonder why I decided to go with him this time :3c )

I think I'm more used to Zephyr DG, but Rick DG is also so cute 🥺💞

Happy Friday. Post your Dream Guardians!

[pearlwithgirl]

Lamplight, Headlight, Moonlight.

Simon Riley x f!reader

Filthy smut - 1479 words

The second of many tender musings ("tender" works because of all the biting and flesh talk <3)

TW: Bites, scratches, and bruises; animalistic fucking; breeding; use of "bitch" (not in Simon's dialogue)

It started off as most of your trysts did. Habitual, comfortable, but not monotonous or passionless - oh no, quite the opposite. 

Simon sinks his teeth into you, suckling at smooth skin and adorning you with yet another set of glowing crescents. Low and dulcet, he moans into the meat of your thigh, a fleshy dessert after gorging himself on your sweet cunt for what felt like an eternity. 

He’d left you hanging on a precipice, dangling in the blinding glow of orgasmic bliss like a little flashing crystal hanging on a line in the bright sun. 

Like prey. Routine. 

You’re still puffy and sensitive, trickling juices that he pauses to lap up between mouthfuls of hide. Your body’s split-second reaction is to jolt and tense up at the feeling. To recoil, because it hurts, doesn’t it?��

You want to pull back, to scramble away at the deep sting, but you don’t. You love this. You accept it greedily, because he knows just what you need. You curl your hands into his ashen waves and yank him in for another sharp bite, as if he could get any closer - because it hurts so fucking good.

Simon creeps up over your belly and past your breasts until he reaches your tender neck to suck blossoming bruises into your skin, laving his tongue over your thrumming pulse. 

He nocks the blunt head of his cock against your twitching entrance, meeting your gaze and waiting for a sign. You can feel him throbbing already, leaking precum onto your hole. You nod almost desperately, and he slides home in one smooth stroke, bathed in blissful rapture.

He breathes out a delicate moan, a sweet zephyr in a register that nobody else gets to bear witness to. They don’t see this soft expression, eyes half-lidded, long-healed pink lines streaking across his flushed cheeks. He’s painted with a cherubic blush and his bottom lip is drawn between pearly teeth, plush and pink. 

It’s almost funny. Everybody outside this room gets something so brash, cold stares and no-nonsense orders, barked-out laughs and grumbled praises for those who are among his inner circle. 

Not you. You get the mild side, the pretty pout that looks nearly angelic in the soft lamplight behind him. It truly resembles a halo, incandescent luminescence shining over pale locks and radiating around his crown as he languidly drags his cock over that gummy spot on your front wall. 

You have to giggle at the juxtaposition of it all. A tremor that causes the change in atmosphere, nudges the falling domino that spills the sable wax and seals your fate. That little amused huff that made your chest quake - barely perceivable to most, but then again, Simon isn’t just any animal, is he? 

He leans back onto his haunches and cocks his head at you. 

“Something funny, doll?” 

It falls off his dusky lips with a tinge of affectionate snark, probing, curious.

You don’t answer. 

‘Nothing wrong, I just think you’re sweet.’ Is what lies on the tip of your tongue, but nothing comes out. 

You just remain zeroed-in on that panting mouth, eyes creeping lower over his heaving chest, his glistening abdomen, those slim hips that taper down to where his thighs flex and bulge…

Your wandering gaze flits back up when he prompts you once more. You’re frozen, lashes fluttering as you blink slowly at him, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“Your mind wandering?” He drawls out, the corner of his mouth creeping up into a sly smirk. “Is this not enough for you tonight? D’you need more from me?” 

“How could it possibly get any better?” You quip back in a plucky tone, mirroring his smirk and flashing a teasing glint with those glassy doe eyes. 

The air is sucked out of the room, a tangible shift, that halo obscured by a darker miasma of lust and insatiable hunger. You should have known better than to provoke a beast like him. You’ve challenged an apex predator.

The smirk drops momentarily. Cogs turn in his mind - it comes back as a grin peeling across his face. Your juices and his saliva catch the light filtering through the rosy bulbs strung up around your bed posts, tinted red all around his mouth, dripping from that ravenous maw. He licks his lips, leveling you with a carnal leer. You clench around him and that broad smile beams even wider. 

He leans in close enough for you to feel the perfumed puffs of breath along the shell of your ear. His tone is hushed, but it’s dripping with lust-soaked venom. 

He brushes his fingertips along your thighs and and hooks his hands under your knees, pressing your legs far back and priming your pussy to be filled to the brim by his heavy cock and heavier thrusts.

 “As you wish, pet.” He murmurs, the phrase rumbling through you like the warning growl of a starved lynx.

The very next moment, he’s buried to the hilt, setting a punishing pace, looking right through you to your gooey centre with wild, frenzied eyes.

He plunges over and over into the searing heat of your cunt, dragging you closer to the edge once again with every minute that ticks by.

You’ve offered yourself up like some sacrificial lamb, bared your delicate throat to this great beast of a man, and you couldn’t be happier. 

You’re not a lamb at all - you weren’t asking him some throwaway question. Deep down somewhere, right beside your warm, beating heart - you knew it was a provocation, didn’t you? 

You fucking minx. 

You’re a lesser predator yourself, yet here you are yowling like a beautiful little bitch in heat. Just like you wanted. Just like he knew you needed.

He’s just a man and the moon is nothing but a razor-thin sliver slicing through the sky, but when he tilts his head back, slinking closer and closer to his release, you think he might let out a howl. Your pale blonde beast, snarling in the soft, creamy light of the paper lantern hanging from your rafters. 

You tip your own head back and the gentle hand cradling your skull tightens its grip. He licks into your mouth, exchanging feverish kisses and hot breaths. He’s panting, littering dirty phrases between your punched out gasps and squeaks that punctuate every unrelenting thrust into your soft, warm cunt.

You catch a masochistic glint in his eyes as you scratch long stripes into his back and nearly pierce him through with a sharp gaze that screams, begs - ‘Breed me. PLEASE.’

A reedy whine tears its way out of your throat as you clamp down around him, lofted up into the sweltering air to mingle with the harsh grunts rumbling their way out of his chest.He won’t be far behind you, his rhythm growing stuttered and syncopated. 

There are a million disjointed thoughts swimming in your soupy mind, but you’re far too lust-addled and fucked-out to string them together. You’d like to be eloquent, to tell him what a good boy he is for blessing you with his impending orgasm and painting your walls creamy white, but that’s utterly impossible right now. All you can let out are broken babbles and whimpered chants of his name, but these are just as enticing and poetic to his finely tuned ears. 

You nearly lose yourself in the blinding pleasure of these heavy thrusts as he gets ready to fuck you full, but he doesn’t let you. He’s got you by the scruff, and he doesn’t even need to say anything - you know well enough by now what that look means.

'Look. At. Me.'

So you do. You lock eyes with him as his face twists with pleasure and his hips meet yours in a chorus of wet smacks. His sharp gaze softens as he falls prey to his pleasure and careens off the edge, knocking his forehead against yours. 

He lets your thighs drop back down after pumping you full of every last drop he has to offer, and as routine dictates, his wolfish grin goes all soft and gooey just as fast as it appeared. He drops the woozy smile to lean in for a sloppy kiss and collapses on top of you, bracketing you in and placing his weight onto his elbows.

“S’that “better”, sweetheart?” He asks, voice muffled against your dewy skin. 

“It was perfect. It’s always perfect.” You respond, cum-drunk and hazy.

He huffs a laugh into your neck, redistributing his weight until he can fully relax his burning muscles without crushing you. He’s draped over you, still breathing heavily and quickly approaching a deep sleep. 

You let him rest for a bit, stroking his back as he peppers feather-light kisses across your chest.

You’ve tamed him once more, gazing at the waxing crescent while a shameless smirk graces your lips.

Little minx.

[youzicha]

Some quick impressions of translations of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

I fell in love with Marie Borroff's translation just from reading the preface, which is very insightful (definitely do read it, whatever other translation you pick!) and also unusually useful for the reader. We don't crucially need a translator's thoughts about what the themes of a story are because we can read it ourselves first, but Borroff talks about the tone (elevated, ironic, playful?) and that is really useful, since it is so easily obscured by time and translation.

Borroff's biography is extremely impressive: before even starting the translation, she spent a decade of her professional life reconstructing the pronunciation and meter of each line and the provenance of each word. Unsurprisingly, the translation is excellent; by the usual standards (accuracy, fluency, transparency/"invisibility") it seems hard to improve on.

Simon Armitage's translation seems to consciously reject fluency and transparency, creating "choppiness" as a deliberate aesthetic effect. Consider for example the use of modern colloquial English here:

and in the other hand held the mother of all axes, a cruel piece of kit I kid you not: the head was an ell in length at least and forged in green steel with a gilt finish

"Piece of kit" and "I kid you not" date the translation to the last few decades, while the "ell" unit has not been used for 400 years. By dragging the reader back and forth in time like this, the translation draws attention to itself. But it is not only a matter of choice of words, we get a similar effect from the ways Armitage breaks up or enjambs lines:

Gawain […] so bore that badge on both his shawl and shield alike. A prince who talked the truth. A notable. A knight.

This was a single sentence in the original, which got "chopped up" into four, including a full stop in the middle of a line.

George B. Pace's translation is the subject of a very charming story somebody posted on tumblr. It is abridged (12k words, versus 21k in the original), and translated into modern-sounding English prose, but if you are interested in the plot rather than the poetic devices it seems like a reasonable approach. I mostly didn't miss the parts he cut, although I do wonder about his focus when he e.g. omits lines of dialogue between Gawain and the Lady but leaves in the decorative filler about the zephyr warming the lands.

I have no particular thought about Burton Raffel's translation, except for one interesting pitfall. He translates most of the poem into prose (although it is kept divided in lines), but the four rhyming lines at the end of the stanzas are translated more loosely in order to make them rhyme. In theory this makes sense: for a modern reader the rhymes and iambs are very salient while we are not very attuned to alliterative verse, so translating just the bob-and-wheel into verse preserves most of the poetic effect.

But in practice it doesn't work so well. First, Raffel just isn't that good at it: Borroff and Tolkien manage to make their translations rhyme while sticking closer to the sense. But more interestingly, the rhyming couplets obviously draw the attention of the reader, and the author uses them to highlight the most load-bearing words, which are often chosen to be nicely ambiguous. The tale is written in 'lel' letters, which could mean that it's true, or only that it is composed in valid alliterative verse. King Arthur waits 'stif'ly to hear a tale or see a wonder, which (says Borroff) could be a heroic "resolute" or an ironic "stubborn". The lady enters Gawain's chamber and banteringly offers him 'my cors', which could mean "myself" but of course literally means body. And what were they doing to that deer? Actually these lines are the parts where you need to be most careful about the meaning.

J.R.R. Tolkien's translation is interesting because he seems to try something different. While Borroff and Armitage try to approximate the effect the poem would have on a 15th century reader by translating into current English, Tolkien uses archaic syntax ("him" for "himself", "we come not" for "we don't come" etc) and archaic vocabulary (the book includes a glossary, which you need to use to understand the translation at all). I think the idea is to capture what it is like for a modern reader who knows Middle English to read the Middle English original, with the particular pleasures of puzzling through a text as a non-native speaker.

Reading this (and even more his translation of Pearl in the same volume) I was surprised by how skilled Tolkien was at verse—he carries over a lot of the formal aspects, and I think his version sounds the best.

[lamneus]

healing spells

I always failed my white magic exams for not writing my name and date. continuation of https://x.com/sifyro/status/1734311910332367026?s=20 -------   ✏️Itaku   Other art sites wlo.link/@sifyro

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[xuperbia]

Kalet  apretó  sus  dedos  aun  más  fuerte  en  aquella  lanza  heredada  desde  su  difunto  padre,  casi  sintiéndola  vencer  debajo  de  su  fuerza  y  la  ira  que  volvía  a  correr  por  sus  venas.  Nunca  se  había  sentido  de  esa  forma,  al  menos  no  de  esa  manera  tan  abrumadora  que  parecía  susurrarle  cosas  en  el  oído  y  actuar  impulsivamente.  -  —Soy  un  guerrero,  Zephyr.  No  llevo  la  guerra  a  ningun  lado,  lucho  en  ellas  y  las  termino  —  -y  en  ese  momento,  creía  que  lo  mejor  era  demostrar  que  Sídhe  era  fuerte  y  solida  como  la  roca,  que  no  se  desmoronaría  ante  la  mínima  presión  o  al  ser  sometidos  bajo  el  incandescente  fuego  que  estaba  amenazando  con  quemarlos  a  todos  si  se  salía  de  control.  -  —Los  inocentes  ya  se  ven  envueltos  en  estas  estupideces,  solo  porque  los  de  más  arriba  no  toman  decisiones  pronto.  ¿Cuántos  niños  quemados  vamos  a  tener  que  seguir  viendo?  ¿Cuántos  esclavos  más  tendremos  que  rescatar  y  que  nunca  más  van  a  volver  a  ser  los  mismos  ni  siquiera  con  la  segunda  oportunidad  que  les  damos?  —  -cuestiona,  los  dientes  rechinan  de  la  fuerza  con  la  cual  su  mandíbula  se  presionaba,  los  colmillos  parecen  inclusive  hasta  más  grandes  cuando  contiene  todo  ese  resentimiento  que  comenzaba  a  pudrirse  el  interior,  el  corazón  en  su  pecho  le  indicaba  que  seguía  siendo  humano,  pero  ¿por  cuánto  tiempo  continuaría  siéndolo?  Sabe  que  está  sacando  su  frustración  con  la  persona  equivocada,  el  odio  que  comenzaba  a  sentir  por  las  Diosas  y  cualquier  otro  líder  basura  que  estaba  por  encima  de  ellos,  no  alcanzaba  a  Zephyr,  su  piedra  más  preciosa  y  preciada.  Cierra  los  parpados,  inhalando  de  forma  pesada  y  dejando  salir  el  aire  por  la  nariz,  antes  de  dirigirse  a  la  otra  y  extender  su  mano  libre  para  tomar  una  extremidad  contraria,  besando  sus  nudillos.  -  —Lo  hago,  confío  en  ti,  porque  te  amo.  Lamento  meterte  en  líos  y  ser  un  problema… 

❀ ⋆ ―  ᴋᴀʟᴇᴛ 」

La  tensión  era  ridículamente  palpable,  la  sentía  correr  por  sus  venas  y  sus  dedos  se  flexionan  sobre  el  mango  de  su  lanza  que  cualquiera  que  prestara  real  atención  al  general,  podría  ver  que  estaba  a  punto  de  astillarla  y  destrozarla  entre  sus  dedos.  Había  una  ira  que  no  reconocía  como  suya,  pero  si  que  comenzaba  a  verla  como  algo  constante  en  su  día  a  día,  siendo  algo  que  debería  causarle  miedo  o  repudio,  pero  en  el  fondo  Kalet  la  reconocía  como  algo  muy  necesario  si  deseaba  un  cambio  verdadero  en  la  situación.  De  la  destrucción  venía  muchas  veces,  la  salvación.  Cuando  el  fuego  se  apagaba,  la  vida  renacía  de  entre  la  tierra.  Sus  pensamientos  se  cortan  cuando  Zephyr  le  habla,  haciendo  que  detenga  sus  pasos  para  observarla  y  relajar  sus  músculos  notablemente,  había  algo  de  paz  en  su  persona  cuando  prestaba  atención  a  la  Oráculo.  -  —Va  a  perdonar  mi  insolencia,  mi  señora,  pero  ¿estamos  hablando  de  la  misma  situación?  —  -se  nota  el  deje  de  sarcasmo  en  sus  palabras,  escupiendo  los  títulos  que  le  pertenecen  a  la  otra  como  el  siseo  de  una  serpiente,  sus  dedos  vuelven  a  flexionarse  en  la  preciosa  lanza  heredada  desde  su  padre  adoptivo.  -  —No  puedo  negociar  con  un  asesino,  un  lunático  y  un  imprudente  sujeto  que  ha  perdido  todo  honor  —  -el  Oráculo  enloquecido,  le  había  colmado  la  paciencia  en  la  reunión  y  el  General  de  Sídhe  reaccionó  de  una  manera  agresiva  llamando  la  atención  de  todos  los  presentes,  creando  tensión  en  los  guardias  de  Baralku  quienes  no  dudaron  en  ponerse  en  guardia.  -  —¿Qué  esperabas  que  hiciera,  Zephyr?  —  -su  voz  se  suaviza,  porque  ahora  le  hablaba  a  su  prometida  y  no  a  su  superior.

Los ojos de la oráculo se abrieron con sorpresa al escuchar las primeras palabras de su general. Nuevamente podía escuchar esa voz sarcástica hacia los títulos del reino pero últimamente, comenzaba a usar sus afiladas palabras incluso contra ella; dejándola en un pequeño shock pues no podía evitar desconocer al contrario en ese lapso de tiempo y no podía negar que comenzaba a preocupar la situación. 

Una a la cual, desgraciadamente no era capaz de obtener respuestas; siempre que preguntaba o indagaba en el tema, terminaba en un callejón sin salida.― Y es por ello que crees qué una guerra donde elevaras el número de víctimas inocentes ¿Es la solución? Yo tampoco estoy de acuerdo con sus métodos pero nuestro poder, no puede sobrepasar las reglas de Baralku ― Sabía de buena fuente que buscaban cambiar a su oráculo pero la selección requería tiempo, encontrar a un espíritu compatible con la magia de las diosas era una compleja labor.― No quiero ver a personas inocentes envueltas en un mar de sangre. No quiero que las familias pasen por el dolor de perder a sus seres queridos, porqué entiendo su dolor… Ya que yo sentiría lo mismo si algo te pasa ― Explicó con un tono suave, esperando que eso calmara al contrario.― Nada. Lo que hiciste fue ser fiel a ti mismo, aun cuando lo expresaste de una forma tan agresiva; siempre te has preocupado por el bienestar del más débil y eso es algo que amo de ti. 

― Solo espero que tengas confianza en mí.

[lady-zephyrine]

So far I really like how the SMRPG remake is going, I especially like how the music changes slightly if you keep a chain going.

I will say though I'm a little surprised that Mario doesn't really have a voice, though it's probably because I'm used to the Mario & Luigi games where the bros speak gibbrerish.

[thenomadicquill]

✍ NOMADIC WORD OF THE DAY

-----------------------------

Zephyr (Noun)

"A gentle breeze."

-----------------------------

Use today’s word in a sentence, a short scene, or even a mini dialogue! How would you use zephyr? I would love to see!

[sun-marie]

That last post reminded me, playing a Monk + Sorcerer in BG3 is sooooo funny bc more often than not the dialogue options directly contradict each other

NPC: I worked so hard to achieve that, and for what?

[MONK] Often times one's work can have value in and of itself, as it a step in the journey of finding our truest selves

[SORCERER] Ha, idiot! You spent your whole life on that? I could have done that with less than a snap of my fingers. You're a fool for even trying