#I might be suffering a little

[lorethebookworm]

Ah yes my favorite musical epic , or as I like to call it "the musical that no matter how perfectly you know the songs, each time you listen you'll find something new to cry about"

[moghedien]

Minthara says “in Her name” when you first meet her and she’s following the Absolute but when you recruit her and she expresses that she no longer follows any god, but she still has an intact paladin oath, and she says “in your name” occasionally because she’s no longer Lolth’s paladin or the Absolute’s paladin, she’s your paladin

[the-bi-space-ace]

Echo is proof that someone out there cares. There will always be people who care and will fight the good fight and will come when they are called. They will go where there are needed. Someone out there is seeing injustice in the world and is doing the work to ensure that as many people as possible can be saved, can be given a chance at a life.

Despite the fact that he's suffered so much already he didn't hang it up and check out. He knows suffering, understands it, and never wants it to happen to anyone else. Everything he went through never made him cold or callous. It didn't make him apathetic to the plight of others. Instead his suffering only made him kinder, stronger, wiser. He knew the clones were suffering and instead of hiding, instead of checking out when he could have, he decided he was going to rescue them. Someone came for him when he needed them. He will do the same for others. And he's connected to a whole network of clones fighting for the same thing. Forming a community, protecting people, creating a life for the clones and making that possible even in incredible dark times.

That feels really difficult to believe sometimes. That someone out there does actually care and will actually do something. But those people exist. There are more of them than you think.

Echo is proof that good still exists. That someone will be in your corner. That no matter what happens you'll always have an ally who will risk everything to give others a chance to survive. The clones have always been such a main focus for him, people he cares so deeply about. He could never sit idly by and let them be experimented on and die at the hands of the empire.

In a galaxy that has forgotten about the clones Echo never has.

[bluespiritshonour]

here's 18-19 year old aang sketches. been hearing aang is ugly discourse—no he ain't. he was just 12.

[hookhausen]

logan sargeant fans 🫱🏻‍🫲🏽 lance stroll fans

suffering constantly

[tumbleweed-run]

A Perfect Date With Gale

@arachnethebard perhaps not what you intended but this is what happened

Since you got to Waterdeep with Gale he's been insistent that the two of you go on a 'perfect' first day... despite the fact that the two of you are already engaged.

Perfection is such a difficult thing to achieve.

1600 words because I'm physically incapable of brevity.

PG (for once)

Gale has been talking about giving you a “proper first date” for entire month you two have been in Waterdeep. Never mind the fact that you two are engaged. He’s been focusing on it near daily. Every time he brings it up you smile and nod. It’s not that you wouldn’t enjoy a nice night out exploring the city, but it’s not about that. 

“Tomorrow night,” he announces one night as he enters the study.  You’re petting Tara, tactfully ignoring a light smear of blood around her mouth… the tower is always miraculously free of rodents. 

You find new clothes draped over a bench in the bedroom the following afternoon. You admire them for a moment, almost hesitant to touch them. They’re finer than anything you’ve worn in years, possibly ever. But despite your mild apprehension over the likelihood of destroying them before you step foot out of the tower, you don them. Gale did go through the trouble, and expense, procuring them for you. 

Gale greets you outside the room, looking as though he’s been waiting the entire time you’ve been inside. You chuckle to yourself at the thought, given that it was once just his room. 

He’s wearing almost traditional wizard’s robes but these are new, a deep maroon with gold accents. He’s begun to stray from the purple he wore almost exclusively when you first met him. There might be something deeper behind that if you dared to think about it for a moment. You know there’s some meaning behind the gold and emerald earring he has in. Your hand instinctively goes to it’s other half, resting around your neck.

“Shall we?” He offers you his arm, eyes sweeping over your form. His smile tells you he’s pleased with the way you look in what he’s selected. 

You spend much of the walk taking in the city at dusk. Waterdeep is so different from Baldur’s Gate, and yet so very similar. Gale happily talks for the both of you. 

The building you stopped in front of was beautiful to say the least, all the street facing windows were stained glass in the shape of the city’s crest. The two large heavy doors were opened and a rather bored looking man in fine clothes stood just inside them. The braziers over the steps was brightly polished brass throwing the light far into the road as if beckoning people in. 

You were busy, once again, marvelling at the building you at first missed Gale’s eyebrows knitting together. He was speaking to the man in the door way, both in hushed tones. The man seemed simply uninterested in whatever Gale was telling him. 

“Now I’m positive I’ve reserved a table,” Gale’s voice had pitched upwards giving away his apparent distress. “I came down myself a tenday ago and booked it.”

You saw a light go on in the bored man’s eyes. “Ah,” he said nodding, “I see the error. The table you booked is for next year. All our bookings are.”

Gale’s mouth simply hands open, a light red brushing just above his beard on his cheeks. 

“Gale,” you say softly, hand going to his arm, “It’s fine we’ll find something else for tonight and come back… next year.”

You resolutely, do not laugh.

Gale, still flabbergasted into silence, looks between you and the other man. For a moment he looks like he wants to argue with one of you but wisely, wisely, nods to you instead. You lead this time as you turn away from the lovely building.

Gale seems over his shock sometime later and sighs heavily. “It’s unlikely we’ll find something worthy of our first date tonight.”

He sounds so put down your heart breaks for a moment. You don’t give into the feeling and instead hook your arm through his. “Whatever we find will be perfect,” you assure him.

He offers you a small, but doubtful smile. 

You two wander, arm in arm, in the cool evening air. Gale doesn’t really seem to be looking for a new option but you are. And it appears down a dirt-packed road, you grasp his arm and point. 

Gale sputters again, “The Yawning Portal?” 

He seems incredulous that you would even suggest it. 

“Well they’re not likely to turn us away,” you risk a tease, “and besides you’ve spoken if it dozens of times. Let’s go!”

Gale relents almost immediately when you turn to him with pleading eyes, and as soon as he does you nearly drag him down the road. You laugh, out loud this time, when Gale shuffles his coin purse further beneath his robes. 

The proprietor barely spares you an eye roll as you two enter in your finery, he’s too busy to care. You run directly up to the dry well first and peer down, you can’t see anything but darkness. Gale gently redirects you to a table in the corner with an exasperated smile. Once he deems you safely secured into a relatively unoccupied corner he disappears towards the bar. Immediately you love this tavern with its rowdy clientele and atmosphere similar to many you had frequented in Baldur’s Gate. 

Gale returns with two mugs full of ale. “Food will be out in a moment,” he assures you, near shouting to be heard over the noise. 

You beam at him and reluctantly, he grins widely back.

One thing for Waterdeep is even in it’s most questionable of places the food is mouthwatering, a testament to Waterdeep’s reputation for the finest food on the coast. The two of you huddle together to hear each other without yelling as you eat. Gale surreptitiously points out some of the notable patrons that are there tonight. He lets you watch in rapt interest as a few bold adventurers lower themselves into the dry well, making for the Undermountain. Only once they disappeared did he launch into an explanation of the dungeon they were entering. 

Seemingly too soon the food is gone and your mugs empty. You don’t want the evening out to end just yet, you realize you miss your own little adventure (perhaps not the constant near-death aspect) and this place helps easy some of the sadness. Besides, as Gale’s mugs drained he leaned closer to you, words breathed against your ear and neck as he filled you in on everything he knew. 

You offer to get another round, immediately missing the warmth of his body pressed to yours as you stand. 

As you return you spot him watching you. The look on his face is openly dreamy, even when he realizes your watching him. 

The widening of his eyes is the only warning you receive before you trip into a rather stout dwarf you had somehow missed in your path. Your stumble sends the ale spilling down your front and most unfortunately directly over the dwarf’s head. 

In an instant he’s got both hands wrapped around your arms, the mugs falling to the floor. “Now, what in the hell is wrong with you,” he snarls yanking you forward nearly bending you in half so you’re closer to his level. 

You haven’t even fully registered what’s happened when just as quickly as he’d grabbed you, the dwarf is gone. 

Not gone, you realize. Instead, he’s now pinned against a table by Gale. He’s got one hand on the dwarf’s collar holding him and in the other he has a small spark of flame dancing in his palm. His face is dark, both literally and figuratively. Hair loosed by his sudden movements, falling forward and shielding his eyes from you.

This…

is new.

“... made a mistake, no need to get rough,” Gale is speaking and you suddenly realize the room’s gone quiet enough that you can hear him perfectly well despite the distance between you. 

In opposition to what he’s saying, the flame grows against his palm. 

The smell of beer hits you first, your front completely soaked in it. Then the realization that the dwarf is similarly covered sinks in. Gale is more likely to accidentally set the man ablaze than he is to diffuse the situation. 

That is what he’s trying to do, you hope. 

“Gale,” you speak just above a whisper, hand coming to rest on his back gently. 

You don’t want to cause the flame to catch. 

“It’s alright,” You assure him, hand rubbing in a soothing pattern, “We’re alright. Right?” The last is aimed at the dwarf who is glancing nervously between the flame and you now.

“Yeah,” He nods almost imperceptibly, “no harm done.”

Whatever had come over him abruptly left Gale, in one movement he both released the dwarf and extinguished the flame. 

“Well then,” you nod with an over-enthusiastic smile, “a round for everyone!” The coin pouch you hold up is Gale’s. 

Everyone is instantly merry, the volume once again rising so you can no longer hear those around you. 

“That’s not how I wanted our first date to go,” Gale says much later in the evening as you two are in the bath. 

You’re seated between his legs, leaning back against his chest, hand lazily drawing patterns on his knee in the water. Your ruined clothes are discarded on the floor somewhere near. The scent of rosewater is diluted only slightly by the smell of a tavern 

The laughter that bursts out of you is unexpected but after a beat even Gale joins in, head dipping back against the edge as he does. 

“It was perfect,” you insist turning your head to look at him.

Both of his eyebrows go up. “For us,” you amend. You twist just far enough to press a kiss to his lips. 

He hums against your mouth. “You still smell like you bathed in ale,” he teases, nose wrinkling.

[cradle-of-darkness]

What have you done?

based on an idea @username8746489 had where sylvie discovered nightmare fuel for the first time on accident while getting bullied by some older kids (and pushing him further into social isolation now that he's known as "that scary kid who could summon someone's worst fear")

[eleventhsister]

why are they so hard to draw

[calo-wav]

because i’m still in love with you / i wanna see you dance again

something something post-canon exes who can't love anyone else because they're still in love with each other but one is rooted to the earth in terror and the other one only finds peace in the stars

fic im writing transparent ver (looks really cool against a dark bg!) + sketch ⮕ final process below

[eastbluecrewed]

things you can't get back

aka i've been waiting so patiently to see kidd get his ass beat by shanks (affectionate)

[muzzlemouths]

🔮 Crystal Ball- What kind of future does your OC want to have? What would they do to make it real?

About dftr sun and moon vuv

The future they want is the past they once had. 

Their life had been simple, but they wouldn’t have given it up for anything. Creating and exchanging crafts with each other, playing in the river, stopping (and starting) food fights in the dining hall, walking through nature to study every branch, every funny shaped rock, every bird that soared overhead. Singing songs in the morning. Telling ghost stories at night. Skits and campfires and making memories. Teaching the kids everything they could, and learning from them, too. 

It was by no means perfect, no life ever is, but it was all they had — and they loved every minute. They would have been happy to stay like this for the rest of their lives.

What would they do to make it real?

Anything.

They would hide themselves away for a decade, watching from afar as life continued on without them. They would pay dearly for a crime they did not commit. They would let themselves fall into ruin. They would speak with the animals if only to ease the loneliness for just a few minutes. They would dirty their hands. They would become the monsters that their campfire stories foretold. They would risk everything to make the hurt stop, to quiet the grief that has haunted them for years.

They would kill for it.

[astarlightmonbebe]

been spending my time watching fangs of fortune since i actually have time and. man.

it's such a potent picture of tragedy, isn't it? watching it gives me that same feeling desolation that i get when i read a particular type of poem. not quite grief, but the show is so heavy with grief. each case might be "solved" but there is only bittersweetness, if that, in it. all demon love stories seem doomed for tragedy - ran yi and miss qi, the human and the demon, cheng huang and the original baize goddess, trapped in wooden dolls, fei and qing geng, freedom at a meaningless cost. the focus on the destruction of the core, the desire for li lun to destroy zhu yan's core...

it's bleak. the show does a great job of uplifting the mood with bits of humor and warmth, but there's no denying that you know that tragedy is always, always lurking around the corner.

[itspileofgoodthings]

I don’t even fully know why but “what do I do when I miss you so much?” / “Just wait, and pray desperately” was a knife to my heart in the best way.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Resistance. Blood Won The Poll! [Patreon | Commissions]

[tobyart]

eat up y'all 😋🍴

[jimmyspades]

"When I was looking around the courtroom yesterday, deciding what lawyer to run up to, I saw your face. And I knew you would be the one to save me." THE PRACTICE 8.09 "Victims' Rights"