#gale headers

[ecnmatic]

SCREAM (1996) dir. Wes Craven.

[saintlopezlov3r]

[hepburnicons]

scream (1996) headers

[tetragonia]

some Masters of the Air subtle screenshot. I love this type of shots. used one for my Twitter header lol

[colosseumzine]

[tristeprasempre]

scream 5 (2022) headers

fav ou reblog se salvar

[kanos]

not posting any edits tonight im so tired omg but just know im thinking about neri and raph making out

[astarioffsimpmain]

Unsolicited Affections (Part 1)

[Screenshots and Tav, Ban, by the lovely @brabblesblog]

Halsin x Plus Size F!Reader

Warnings: Body insecurity; internalized fatphobia; otherwise, floof (for now)

Synopsis: Your growing feelings for Halsin can no longer be ignored. Even so, that doesn't mean you don't try for your poor heart's sake. However, Halsin keeps bringing you closer, and you aren't sure how much longer you can take it without confessing... even though confessing is your worst fear.

Author's Note: Thank you so much to @brabblesblog for taking these screenshots and allowing me to use Ban in the header! For all readers, there will be a Part 2 to this fic and it will be the smut you all requested from the poll I took! This became a super duper indulgent fic for me, as I struggle with all of the insecurities the reader struggles with here. But I hope this little 2 part creation can act as a balm for anyone who has ever struggled with their bodily image, or wondered if they'd ever be seen as beautiful. This one's for you; for us. <3

Part 2 Here

The battle had been bloody. Grime and viscera was spread across each body, hair color lost in deep dyes of red in the wake of the victory. You and your companions trudged back to camp in silence; exhausted. You had failed to obtain what the battle had been fought for in the first place, and you were certain that your mood was soured for the rest of the evening. Upon reentering your campground, Gale was the first to greet you all, thankful to see that everyone was alive, albeit roughed up; obvious disappointment creased his features for a moment when you told him the news that you had failed to obtain the magical object you had set out for, but he hid it behind an understanding smile and ushered you to sit by the fire as he finished dinner. 

You had reasoned that if the Netherese Orb in Gale's chest required the consumption of magic to remain stable, that the more powerful the object, the longer it would sate him. So you had taken a group and set out for the most powerful magical object in your direct vicinity - the Circlet of Blasting. You had recognized it the day previous on the head of a Drow with several of its companions near the Myconid colony in the Underdark. Once you found them again, you approached to inquire whether you could cough up enough gold to take it off their hands, but when they turned and pierced you with vicious red eyes that gleamed back at your group with a reflectiveness like a cat's, you knew gold would not satisfy them. And as they drew their daggers, you were proven correct, and the battle had begun.

You slumped over on the log next to the fire, too exhausted to properly stow your weight, as you removed your armor piece by piece. The second person to approach you carried a warm bowl of stew and placed it gently into your palms. The hands were tender and gentle, and much too large to belong to anyone but your favorite Archdruid. You raised your weary head to meet his beautiful bright green eyes, creased with worry, but soft with care as he lowered himself to the ground beside your legs, his muscular arm grazing the now-bare skin of your thigh as he adjusted. A flutter ran through your stomach at the contact, but you clamped down on it before you could get carried away. You knew his kindness was platonic. It had to be. Halsin was simply…kind. 

The tell-tale signs of complicated and painful feelings had risen within your chest since rescuing Halsin from the goblins, and although you had tried to deny them, recently it had proven impossible. But while you finally admitted to yourself that you had fallen for his disarming smile, the scratch of his well-worn fingertips against your softer skin, and how passionately he cared about every living creature in nature, you refused to admit it to anyone else. You would be sparing yourself that embarrassment this time around. Your chest ached, remembering the many times you'd fallen for someone and approached them with this truth, only to be turned away over and over again. Inwardly, you snarled, blaming the extra plush your body carried for your lack of luck in love. Whether the objects of your affection had been kind, polite, or downright rude, there was always a moment in which their eyes would quickly rake your body up and down before delivering their blow. Perhaps they didn't even recognize that they did it, but you saw. You always saw. 

So, while you knew Halsin would never be unkind to you, you had been trying to make peace with the very probable fact that he would only ever see you as a friend - never quite attractive enough to be anything more. It was something you were used to, but it never seemed to dull the throbbing pain in your heart whenever you thought on it too long. There was a part of you, somewhere deep, that knew you were not at fault; that knew you were not to blame; that perhaps if they had deigned to look beyond the surface for even a moment, that they would have seen how genuine your heart was, and how they never would have had to go without affection, love, or loyalty should they have chosen you. You weren't without this enlightenment, but the constant dissatisfaction of, or concern for, the body you carried from those around you - from well-meaning friends to pushy strangers - weighed heavy on your tired mind. 

This moment around the fire was no exception, your burning desire to curl around Halsin's broad shoulders like a cat and purr was strong, but overshadowed by the fear of rejection. You had him near, but pulling him too close was to risk sending him far away, and you weren't sure you'd be able to stand it were that to occur. An icy shudder ran through you at the mere thought of Halsin retracting his warmth from your side. "- giving you a chill?" His dulcet voice pulled you back to reality like a line reeling you in, but you caught only his last few words. 

"What?" You said, blinking as his image in your eyes grew sharper again. "Apologies, my mind was far away." 

"No worries." He chuckled. "I merely asked if the night air was giving you a chill. You were shaking, my heart." 

My heart. 

You melted a little. The nickname was fairly new. The first time he had called you that had been two mornings prior, after a late start and a quick bath in the bioluminescent pools near your campsite in the Underdark. You had come trudging back to camp in clothes that were quickly dampening due to being pressed against your still wet skin, wringing your hair out ferociously as you tried to hurry to catch up with everyone else's progress. You had just started to wrench your boots up over your clinging pants when Halsin had approached you, laying a warm hand against your wet-stained shirt. You had startled, your head snapping up to his in a surprised daze. 

"Slow down." He had said, running a soothing hand down your bent spine and back up, sending full bodied shocks through you like tidal waves. "You needn't worry, my heart. We will wait for you." 

As the memory warmed your cheeks, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes, praying he couldn't see the thoughts lingering just inside the colors of your irises. "No, I'm alright. Just- just a bit weak from not eating all day. Thank you, for bringing me this." You finally acknowledged the bowl in your hands and raised it a little. 

"Of course. Please, eat. I hear from the others that you had a rough skirmish. I implore you to let me check you over once you've finished your stew." 

Ignoring the way your heart jumped dangerously near to your throat, you nodded silently, opting instead to pick up the wooden spoon in the bowl and begin to eat. It was one of Halsin's spoons; one he whittled. It was smooth and beautiful and easy to hold. Almost all of the cutlery in camp had been fashioned by Halsin, and several of the stools you kept as well. It was his hobby and his form of relief, to create things with his hands. Subconsciously, you glanced down to where the hands in question rested on his knees; large and rough, his hands had seen it all and done it all through his 300 plus years of life, and you couldn't help but quietly admire how much they had learned and lost in the process. And after all of that, he chose to create beauty with those hands that knew so much. It made your heart clench with a new wave of affection. You swallowed hard, as if the feelings would force their way back down in the same way as the contents of your bowl. 

Again, you were drawn back from your reverie by the Druid's movements, one of his hands moving from his lap to yours. His palm came down to rest flat on your thigh, only a thin layer of fabric left to separate the blazing heat from your skin. You barely suppressed a gasp of surprise at the sudden contact, feeling much more intimate than it probably was, and locked eyes with Halsin, whose brow was worried into wrinkles. "You seem more distant than usual, are you sure you're alright?" He said, his thumb taking a slow drag across your leg, sending your poor heart racing in your chest. 

"Yes," you managed to respond, rather breathlessly. "I- I'm alright." Even you weren't convinced by your attempt at deflection, and Halsin's frown only deepened. 

"When you've finished your stew, come find me by my tent. I will have some healing herbs waiting for you." He said sternly and you nodded silently. His eyes softened at your wide-eyed expression and he reached up to gingerly tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "Promise me you will come." He murmured quietly, his eyes never leaving yours, and your heart stuttered wildly in your chest. 

"I promise." You replied, and a soft smile graced his lips. He nodded in return and stood up, brushing himself off before walking back towards his tent. 

"Gods," you muttered under your breath, pressing your palm to your chest in an effort to keep your pounding heart inside. 

"You've been given the perfect opportunity, darling." A voice chimed lyrically behind you, and you turned your head to find Astarion eyeing you appreciatively. "Don't waste it." He grinned widely, putting his fangs on display as he did so. 

"Shut up, Astarion." You mumbled, your face heating as you pressed your hands over your eyes. You only hoped you wouldn't make a fool of yourself. 

fin

[littlejuicebox]

Milk.

Back again for the third time today, this time with some porn with a plot.

I'm really on one with the Dadstarion fics. Something has been unleashed inside me, people.

I need to edit all these headers at some point.

Warnings: babies, angst w comfort, smut, nipple play, breast milk, breast milk drinking, breeding kink, daddy kink, teasing, dirty talk, a bit of soft dom Astarion vibes, 18+ only please

A/N: Most of you already know I'm a degenerate.

-----

Astarion had been uncharacteristically melancholy this week.

Sure, it wasn’t unusual to witness him in one of his moods of irritation or frustration, particularly when some business deal or another was not going particularly well, or a contract he’d already drafted more times than he could count came back to him with more rebuttals.

But to witness this cloud of sadness around your husband, especially after Gale’s birth, was odd. He’d been the picture of domestic joy and fatherhood, completely over the moon in his new role. He even wore the sleeplessness better than you in the first few months, happy to assist where he could so that his little love could get more valuable rest.

However, just recently, his mood had become detached and distant. Everything he did and said seemed tinged with worry or sadness. It reminded you of the spawn version of Astarion from several years ago, almost always caught in a poor memory or concerning line of thought. That version of Astarion hadn’t shown up in a while. You couldn’t be sure what triggered it.

“Gale’s getting quite good at holding his head up,” You inform your husband as you crawl into bed with him after just putting the three-month-old down for the evening.

“That’s wonderful news, darling.” Astarion replies, with that same distant, pensive air he’s addressed you with all week as he focuses on the book in his lap.

You sigh, and put your hand over the book, obscuring the pages and forcing the elf to acknowledge you, “What is it, Astarion? You’ve been in this… mood all week and I’m beginning to worry you’re regretting parenthood.”

Your husband’s eyebrows crinkle as he places the book on his nightstand, staring at you with a mixture of shock, hurt and confusion, “Darling, do you truly think that? What have I done besides absolutely dote on Gale? And on you!”

You realize you’ve misspoken. You see the wounds on your husband’s face as he assesses you, and your hands come to his cheeks, searching his eyes, “No, no I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I know you don’t regret Gale… I just. I’m worried, Astarion. You seem… sad. Lost in thought in a way I haven’t seen in years and… I don’t know why.”

There is a moment of silence as Astarion’s eyes flash through several thoughts, filtering through a week's worth of garbled noise within his mind. And then he sighs, “I…” he pauses and blinks, forcing himself to meet your gaze, “I’m worried that I won’t be the right masculine role model for Gale. That I’m not strong enough to show him… to show him how to be a good man.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. You cannot even think of something to say, because this certainly wasn’t the direction you thought Astarion would take. He was always quite self-assured in his talents and never hesitant to be the true version of himself after the parasite fiasco over a decade ago.

He continues, “I don’t live in the woods, or whatever it is exactly Halsin does. I’m not an especially talented spell caster like Gale. And I’m fair with a blade but it’s been years since I’ve had use for one and I don’t have the level of training nor regular practice like Wyll nowadays, dear. I review contracts and make investments; I run the winery. I embroider. I’m not exactly the picture of masculinity in comparison to… others.”

There is a moment of quiet between the two of you. Concerned tears form in your husband’s eyes, which he quickly blinks away.

“Astarion… you are the strongest man I know.” You murmur, running a finger along the elf’s cheek as he scoffs and shakes his head. His eyes jerk away from your face; clearly, he does not believe you.

You gasp in shock as you cup his face harder, willing the elf to understand how serious you are. You continue, vehemently, “My love. You cannot seriously believe otherwise! You have endured more than any of us could ever imagine. Over 200 years of… horrible atrocities. And then you came out on the other side of that, after having sacrificed so much — and Astarion, do not ever forget how much you willingly sacrificed — to be better. To choose differently. To be so much more.”

You are ripping the blankets away and crawling into your husband’s lap now, wrapping your limbs around his torso. His head comes to the side of your neck as you hold him, hoping to convey the love and respect you have for the elf with the warmth of your arms. Your fingers latch into the curls on the back of his neck as you speak in a reverent whisper, urging him to believe you.

“I watched you endure years without the sun in more stride than I could have possibly thought. And you are perhaps softer than you were when we met, yes. But this version of you gives me and Gale everything we need and more. I cannot imagine someone stronger or more courageous than you, my love. And I think you have forgotten how much strength it took for you to become this soft in the first place. I love this version of you. And Gale has a wonderful, loving, strong father in this version. Please do not ever doubt that.”

A quiet hum of acknowledgement comes from your husband, but no other words escape him as he lifts his head from the crook of your neck and envelopes your lips in a soft kiss. A thank you.

Your heart is pounding from the passion with which you spoke, and when Astarion’s lips press into yours, that passion and love begins to flow throughout your body. Pieces of you start to wake.

It had been a while since you two were intimate. Not since before Gale's birth. Days and nights had recently been filled with parenthood and left little time nor energy for much else. But as Astarion pushes forward, wrapping his arms around your back, you feel the stirrings of desire deep in your core. A soft moan leaves you as a fire begins to grow where mere glowing embers had been left several months ago.

Astarion must be feeling the same pull, because his hand trails from your back and sneaks under your nightdress to brush along your thigh. He slowly traces up the length of your leg to cup your bottom while he deepens the kiss with a soft, breathy moan of his own. He’s flexing his hips up toward you, the growing bulge in his trousers begging for further stimulation. Your lover’s tongue swipes along your lower lip, asking for entry, and your mouth opens to accept the swirling heat of desire from the elf.

He explores your mouth and caresses your bottom for a while, tenderly, slowly, and in no rush to further things along despite the mutual growing desire between your two bodies. It’s you that finally breaks the kiss before ripping your night dress over your head, exposing two heavy, milk-laden breasts in the process. Astarion brings the hand not kneading into your ass to cup your breast before thumbing the pert nipple.

You gasp, and your husband’s brows crinkle for a moment as he pauses his ministrations.

“Too sensitive?” He asks, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your other breast.

“No, keep going,” You urge him, closing your eyes and rolling your hips forward to grind into his groin. He bucks forward to meet you instinctively.

He tentatively thumbs the nipple again and you moan in response. Without thinking much about it, Astarion brings his mouth to the other breast and wraps his lips around the bud before sucking gently. You release an ecstatic keen in response when his teeth graze against the tender flesh. You are continuing to roll your hips into him when he suddenly retracts from your chest with a shocked gasp.

Your eyes snap open, and you catch the final glimpse of your husband wiping breast milk from the side of his mouth as his cheeks and ears slowly turn pink. And then you feel your own embarrassment growing as rosy patches flush across your chest and cheeks. You quickly move to cover your breasts.

“I-I’m sorry,” You whisper, “it slipped my mind. I forgot about the…”

You’re thinking the moment’s ruined, and moving to climb off your husband, but he quietly brings his hand to your waist and stills you. His eyes search yours silently for a moment, and you’re still so consumed by your own embarrassment that all you can do is stare dumbly back at him, eyebrows furrowed.

But then Astarion lifts one of his hands to your own, slowly lowering it from where it had been covering your breast. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he once again leans forward and wraps his lips around the nipple, sucking gently. Warm milk flows into his mouth and you inhale sharply, unable to look away as your husband removes his lips from your breast, opens his mouth to show you the white liquid, and then closes his mouth and swallows.

He swallows.

And then he smirks up at you with a self-satisfied, mischievous glint in his eyes that causes the slickness between your legs to instantly double.

Gods, this man.

You are convinced your entire body is flushing red at this point as Astarion slowly brings his other hand up to palm the flesh of your breast.

“Would you like daddy to do it again?” He purrs before his tongue laps circles around the side of your heavy tit.

“I— gods, yes.” You respond, blinking down at the elf.

“Okay. But you have to ask me very, very nicely, little love.” He responds teasingly as he trails kisses to your other breast, waiting for you to say something.

“Please suck my nipple,” You whisper, eagerly rolling your groin into your husband's raging erection.

But Astarion doesn’t do what he’s asked. Instead, he’s teasing the bud with the flat of his tongue and humming contentedly, waiting for something from you.

“Please suck my nipple, daddy.” You amend, and the elf instantly engages his lips around your other breast with a soft groan. He’s drinking with vigor as your hands find the curls at the nape of his neck and take hold. Before long he’s retracting again, his mouth full of liquid gold.

And he pulls the same maneuver. Mouth open, flashing the white liquid as he looks directly into your eyes. Mouth closed. Swallow. Devious smile.

“It’s delicious, you know.” He murmurs as you stare at him, still in shock and still somewhat embarrassed by the fact that you are actually enjoying this. His hands come to either breast, both now significantly lighter, and he fondles the soft tissue.

“You shouldn’t be so surprised that you like this darling, I distinctly remember a time when I made you orgasm by mere nipple play alone.” He whispers, a glint of that cocky rogue playing across his face before he trails kisses up your chest and along your neck.

“Gods, Astarion,” You respond, “I need you inside me, now.”

You’re done with the foreplay. Your husband has you ridiculously hot and bothered, and it’s been far, far too long. You're on your knees, which are straddled on either side of his hips as you urgently tug at the waistband of his trousers, trying to work his pants and underclothes off in one motion. But your husband is purposely resisting and refusing to lift his hips, watching you with that same arrogant smile.

Oh, he's toying with you.

“Darling, why am I always the one dirty talking you?” He asks, pulling back from your neck and cocking his head just slightly as he studies your face.

“I— what?” You ask, still pulling insistently at his waistband.

“I’m always the one charming the pants off of you, dear. In over ten years, it’s never really been the other way around. But you know that I love to hear your beautiful words.” He continues, moving one of his hands to stroke between your still-clothed folds.

“Astarion, please fuck me.” You try as you struggle to keep your composure. The slickness of your cunt is making obscene noises as he expertly maneuvers between your slit, watching your expression attentively as you come undone.

He chuckles darkly as he brings his lips to your breast once again, trailing kisses along the side of the flesh, “I think you can do better than that, my love.”

You groan in dismay as the bastard continues to tease you. Several months without sex and somehow you’re still the desperate one while he’s effortlessly maintaining his cool.

“What do you want daddy to do to you, darling?” He purrs, teasingly, as his other hand that isn’t stroking between your legs trails across your skin to fondle your ass once again.

“I want you to fuck me and fill me with your seed.” You whine as his ministrations on your clit become more insistent. You’re trying to play into his desires, to convince him to stretch you open with his thick cock.

Your legs are trembling now. He’s going to make you come embarrassingly fast. You know it. He knows it.

“Won’t you beg me, my love?” He murmurs as his eyes trail across your chest, admiring your larger-than-usual breasts before his gaze locks back onto yours, fingers still strumming your clit, now adding more pressure, “You know I love to hear your sweet little pleas.”

“Please— Astarion. Please, daddy. Please fuck me. Breed me like your good little wife and fill me with—“

You gasp and then moan as your orgasm rips through you with little warning, drenching your husband’s hand in your arousal. The release causes your legs to turn into jelly, and Astarion uses the opportunity to quickly maneuver you into a new position. You are sitting on the side of the bed, and he is now standing, quickly lowering his trousers.

His cock springs free, and the sight causes your eyes to widen in shock. It’s so engorged that the head is slowly turning from that gorgeous pink to a deep purple, begging for release. Thin rivulets of pre-cum are falling in strings from the tip; much of his shaft is glistening from the same evidence of his arousal.

Astarion glances down at his own erection and then warns, “It’s been a while darling, not quite certain how long I will last.”

“Just get inside me already, daddy.” You plead and that’s enough to make your husband growl as he strokes his own member once, twice, prepping himself. He peels your drenched undergarments down your legs and tosses them aside.

As Astarion’s cock slides between your folds you gasp. Gods, it really has been too long. And then he’s pressing into you slowly, groaning deeply with the amount of effort it’s taking him to not release his spend right upon entry into your tight cunt. When he reaches the hilt, the elf stills for a moment and lowers himself down to kiss your lips before pressing his forehead against yours. And then Astarion is slowly rolling his hips, his mouth hanging open in a gasp at the delicious sensation of your walls clenching around him before he closes his eyes to focus.

It isn’t long before he's losing control. Your husband normally prides himself on being a consummate lover; it’s quite typical that he brings you to orgasm twice before finding his own release. But it has been quite some time and perhaps holding off in an attempt to hear your pleas wasn’t as easy for him as it appeared on the outside.

“Gods, darling. You feel so perfect.” The elf pants, almost breathless, his hips stuttering as he jerkily thrusts into you, trying and failing to maintain some rhythm as the pleasure overwhelms him, “So perfectly wet and tight.”

“Come inside me, daddy.” You whisper as you bring your hand to the side of Astarion’s face.

The command shocks him. Like you, he’s suddenly coming with very little warning. His eyes rip open as he’s spilling into you with a loud groan, his cock jerking inside your walls where he’s instinctively buried himself to the hilt.

“Fuck-- gods, Tav--" He hisses through the waves of pleasure racking his body as his eyes roll back. His thighs are trembling as his member continues to throb, spilling several streams of hot, thick seed into you as you watch his face in awe. Mouth agape, cheeks flushed. You love the way he looks when he loses control.

You smile and kiss your husband gently as he comes down from his high, your hand stroking his cheek. And then he’s laughing and pressing his forehead back against yours. A few of his curls fall haphazardly and you reach up to lovingly comb them back into place.

“You are… still full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion asks as he slowly withdraws from you, causing the slickness from your lovemaking to run down your thighs and into the sheets.

“I thought you would like it,” You offer shyly, now somewhat embarrassed at your own crassness as the tides of passion recede.

“Oh, I certainly did, darling.” Your lover reassures you as he bends down to retrieve his trousers from the floor, "You cheeky little degenerate."

Just then, Gale lets out a sharp cry from the nursery. You move to stand up, but your husband stops you with a gentle hand and a soft, adoring smile.

“I’ll go and get him. Don’t waste the seed still inside you, dear. Give it a few more precious moments to try and do its thing, hm?” Astarion says, partly teasing and partly serious as he shoots you a wink before heading out the bedroom door to retrieve the infant.

This one won’t take, you know as much. You aren’t ovulating. But as you watch the love of your life exit the room on his way to retrieve the other love of your life, you think you may actually be ready to start trying for another one sometime soon. You know Astarion is simply waiting for your cue.

Anything for daddy. 

[vagabond-umlaut]

synchronise

On one end of the line, you've sunny days, mild breezes and not one thing to worry over. On the other end, there are only moonless nights, foul gales and one too many decisions– made and unmade– to repent for. And in the middle of this line segment, is you—

The only means by which the scales can be re-balanced. The equilibrium lost can be re-discovered. The wheels of life thrown off-kilter can be re-synchronised.

[Long story short: Time can be a funny little bitch— Good thing, you know how to be funnier than time itself!]

gojo satoru x fem!reader; canon divergent au; time travel fix-it; fluff and angst with an eventual happy ending; slow burn but not rly tbh; ft. Sassy Gremlin Dumb Reader and Exhausted Whipped Protective Gojo– everyone else is dragged into this chaotic mess whether they like it or not *pointed stare at suguru, shoko, nanami, haibara*; toji tries his best to be a good parent; mamagumi lives; everyone's alive here (✿◡‿◡)

chapters:

one: 26/12/2018

two: 23/3/2005

three: T-Junction (Ⅰ)

[read this on ao3 instead!! ^_^]

please comment on this post to be added to the taglist!!

the header image is from pinterest, the dividers are by @benkeibear & the characters used here aren't mine. please don't plagiarise, translate or repost this. hope y'all enjoy reading this ❤️❤️

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[dragonagitator]

BG3 Withers dialogue writing resources

Withers seems to be one of the more difficult characters to write in fanfic because of his archaic way of speaking. But since he's pretty significant in the fanfic I'm working on, I've been going through the datamined game transcripts reviewing all of his lines in attempt to synthesize a Withers Style Guide:

Pronouns: "The Basics of Shakespeare Pronouns: Thee, Thy, Thou, Thine, Ye" explains it better than I can (caveat: Withers doesn't use "ye").

Contractions: He almost never uses them. The only examples I could find were I'd (1), ne'er (3), shan't (1), 'til (5), and upon't (1).

Auxiliary verbs: He seems to use them whenever grammatically possible, sometimes with modern spellings (am, are, be, is, must, shall, will) and sometimes with archaic spellings (canst, didst, dost, doth, hast, hast, hath, mayest, needeth, needst, shouldst, wilt, wouldst).

Verb conjugations: The game writers weren't terribly consistent with these, but he tends to conjugate second person singular verbs with -est/-st endings and the third person verbs with -eth/-th endings. He seems to use mostly modern conjugations when speaking in the first person.

Vocabulary: He peppers his speech with dated terminology like bosom companion, cleave, forsooth, pittance, proffer, seneschal, yoke, etc. (Google Books Ngram Viewer is a good tool for checking how dated a term is.)

Verbosity: Withers is generally quite terse. If the rule of thumb for writing Gale is use twice as many words as necessary, then the rule of thumb for writing Withers is to use as few words as possible (with the aforementioned exceptions of no contractions and lots of auxiliary verbs). Or simply have him refuse to elaborate as that is very in-character for him.

Complete corpus: I went through the datamined files and copypasted all of Withers' lines into a Google Doc because I personally find it useful to immerse myself in a single character's voice before attempting to write them. Please note that it includes cut content as well as MAJOR SPOILERS FOR EVERYTHING because he narrates the epilogue. I included the file names as headers in case you want to refer back to the datamined dialogue for the context in which he says a particular line.

[acrel-is-acrel]

drew some cuties for my header (both x and tumblr)

gale, raph, astarion and bigüu (my gf's tav!! @bibikifai)

[hepburnicons]

scream (1996) headers

[loremaster-lavellan]

Decided I need a new header for this blog. Then I decided to make it a portrait series of all my Tavs. 2 portraits in 2 days and I'm loving this line work.

Left/Red - Rumon, half-elf rogue, my second Tav and my favorite (so far).

Right/Yellow - Cillian, half-elf wild magic sorcerer, haven't actually played with him yet but he's a hot mess and he's gonna romance Gale.

[astarionancuninslittlelove]

avatar by mordeawearybone & header by summerwarlock!

=͟͟͞⚝ Stories 1-9 are a continuation of my series Indomitable featuring my OC (!F) Tav, Elowyn. Find her story here.

=͟͟͞⚝ The links will take you to the stories on AO3.

⊹ ♡ 1. Eyes On Me:

Astarion asks Tav to spend a rather intimate night with him in the Underdark. Tav tries to play hard to get, but gives in to Astarion’s silver tongue…in more ways than one.

⊹ ♡ 2. Delight at Last Light Inn

Astarion comes to terms with his feelings for Tav after seeing her get hurt defending the portal to the Shadowfell. He finds he is not as good at expressing his feelings with words as he is at expressing his feelings in other ways…

⊹ ♡ 3. Finally Free-The Pale Elf:

After defeating Cazador and convincing Astarion not to ascend, Tav and Astarion share an intimate and heated moment at camp.

⊹ ♡ 4. When Darkness Falls:

After the defeat of the Netherbrain, Astarion comes up with an idea to surprise Tav by putting a new spin on their first encounter.

⊹ ♡ 5. The Fissure of Tyche

After months of searching for cures to help Astarion walk in the sun again, Omeluum reaches out to Tav and Astarion with a promising lead involving the story of Tyche—original goddess of luck.

⊹ ♡ 6. Till Death Do Us Part (Well Sort Of)

Tav and Astarion celebrate tying the knot together surrounded by all of their friends. Their wedding night is surely one they will remember forever.

⊹ ♡ 7. Last Bite

After Tav & Astarion marry, Tav tries to come to grips with their own mortality and the uncertainty that comes with it.

⊹ ♡ 8. Interview with the Vampires

Tav and her companions have become celebrities in their city of Baldur's Gate overnight after they saved the city from imminent doom. Astarion, Tav, and their companions are summoned to Baldur's Mouth on the one year anniversary of the fall of the Netherbrain to be interviewed for the newspaper on what they have been doing since then. Astarion & Tav find a creative way to pass the time until it is their turn to be interviewed.

⊹ ♡ 9. The Ultimate Test

Astarion has a devilish idea that piques Tav’s interest.

⊹ ♡ 1. Perfect, Every Time

Features trans/nb Tav

⊹ ♡ 2. Tara’s Out of the Bag

Features F! Tav

⊹ ♡ 3. Good Girl

Features F! Tav

=͟͟͞⚝Stories 1 & 2 loosely go together. If you like the first one, you most likely will like the second!

⊹ ♡ 1. Sunday Morning Surprise

Gale wakes Tav up with a homecooked meal. He has a fantasy that he would like to get off his chest.

⊹ ♡ 2. Professor Dekarios' Fantasy

After becoming incredibly busy at his new job at Blackstaff Academy, Professor Gale Dekarios has a hard time juggling his job of teaching with his lustful breeding fantasy with his wife, Tav.

⊹ ♡ Backstory

⊹ ♡ Character Analysis

⊹ ♡ "Get to Know Your Character #2"

⊹ ♡ “My OC As”

⊹ ♡>>>Headcanons<<<⊹ ♡

this image ^^^ was made by summerwarlock! :-)

Sparkly divider and heart bullet points made by @anitalenia