#hes just a summer eladrin

[leeafygreens]

My dnd sona. He is an eladrin bard and he is silly.

(Not PD related but i still like this drawing and I wanna populate my profile a bit)

[projectmischa]

This started as a quick lil sketch and then I decided to color it and shade it and add a background oops XDD

I wanted at least one last cool art of Elaria before we reach the end of our Curse of Strahd campaign. We’re gearing up to storm the castle now, and I’m big nervous ;0;

[hybbart]

I couldn't not draw ranchers...

Jimmy is a triton fathomless warlock, with Lizzie as his patron. Before he lost his memories he was a swamp land druid. He caused a TPK just before the final battle by accident.

Tango's an eladrin, though he only switches between summer and winter normally, wildfire druid-battle smith artificer. He's a retired adventurer and instead does dungeon architecture commission work for BBEGs.

[smorksthings]

Astarion x Eldarin!Reader HC

Gender-neutral reader, no pronouns mentioned | Author's note: I'm back and obsessed with Astarion... No surprises here! The Eladrin (or Eldarin as I spell it) are my favourite race in D&D so I must write for it <3 | Not proof read | 536 words

When you admitted to being an Eldarin — a race of Fey, the ancestors of elves and drow — Astarion was surprised for certain!

I mean, the Eldarin are not a common race in Faerûn, nor in the rest of Toril, but it's not to say he's displeased, not at all!

After all, he's finally got a reason as to why your blood tastes so... Distinctive. Almost as if the weave itself was infused within you.

The Eldarin weren't so different from the elves, so there wasn't much change in the first place, and the reason why you hid so well in the first place.

Astarion doesn't mean to cause harm, but he certainly loves to ask questions about your history and home. Since you're most likely from the feywild, not Faerûn.

He loves to ask questions about your native language — Sylvan, asking how you would address him and how to flirt. He wants to call you all sorts of beautiful things in your language.

Though, he has to start getting used to the fact that your emotions determine how you look.

It's probably why you told him in the first place — your emotions will inevitably change and so will your look. And you don't want to scare him when you change from your autumnal colours to your winter as you think to the future in sorrow; or rather his or your own past, depending which crosses your mind.

He's very intent on listening to you explain it all. Wanting to understand this new part of you fully.

When he notices you've changed to your winter season, he does everything in his power to see that is no longer so. Even potentially seeing your spring glory.

Astarion is always so careful when noticing your changes. Not because he doesn't want to lose what he is familiar with, no, he simply wants a better grasp of you.

The first time you openly use feystep it scared the crap out of him. Gods, you've just told him about how you change according to how you feel, now you teleport around with no warning! It's like you're trying to give him a heart attack. (As much as he can for an unliving vampire.)

He eventually gets used to it, stops jumping whenever you're suddenly by his side, or wrapping your arms around him in the blink of an eye.

For your other changes, he swears you're colder than a corpse in your winter season and hogs the blankets (out of love). And in your summer season, he's so careful... He thought you were sick at first, with how hot your skin burned, but eventually got used to it. It just feels so odd against his frigid skin.

When he sees you bloom in spring for the first time, he swears you are the most adorable thing in the world. Look at you! Blooming a flower atop your head just because he made you laugh! Gods, he loves you so much.

At the end of the day, he finds all these unusual features of yours all the more endearing than ever before, not quite caring you've kept this secret for so long.

But please, don't keep anymore, okay?

Characters I write for | Masterlist

[vampiric-succulent]

OUAW EP 26 (shorter bc I started writing this halfway thru):

FROST BECOMES A PROUD NUDIST AND DEREK’S COMMITMENT TO THE BIT I CANNOT

Oh god Gideon’s fey curse is so sad bc I was really hoping he’d play it no different but bc Richie played it no different Kremy is still in love w Gid and he’s gonna go through such a rollercoaster of emotions and events in the next bit oh no oh no

Ykw actually because Mace is playing it as physical attraction and bc of the “I like how you looked before” comment im gonna say this is Gideon being attracted to Summer Eladrin Kremy but still being in love with Kremy, which doesn’t necessarily make it less complicated but does change things

Where was this level of analysis when I still had to write papers for English classes?!??? Come on

“I am just so glad we are married” “oh the whole ironic thing! Right!! It’s totally ironic” NO GUYS COME ON KREMY IS SAYING THE IRONIC THING TO NOT BE HURT AND GIDEON IS GIDEONING SO MAYBE THATS THE SAFER OPTION

“We should probably get rings” AAAAAAAAAAA

“God I love you” HOLY SHIT HE SAID THE THING

“oh like ironically! You’re my best mate!” SAFEST OPTION SAFEST OPTION OH MY LORD

“Ironically, literally, there was a ceremony…” “ironically, just best buds right”

AND NOW MACE ISNT PLAYING IT ANY DIFFERENT. HES. HOLY SHIT HES JUST PLAYING IT LIKE IT WOULD BE IF GIDEON ALSO LOVED KREMY. AND MACE IS SCOOTING NEXT TO RICH I am going to cry

EVERYONE IS STRIPPING AGAIN WHAT IS GOING ON (atp this is just another Tuesday for these guys but THE CHARACTERS AND HISTORY INVOLVED SPECIFICALLY)

This is so well engineered to happen like this. It’s moments like these when I think the dice know.

Somehow Chuckles being here is not the most chaotic thing right now.

“Kremy. Kremy, lemme just say, I *loved* your previous form” SCREAMING. CRYING. HEAD IN MY HANDS. THROWING UP. SCUTTLING AWAY TO HIDE IN A CORNER.

He’s still trying to say it’s ironic whAT WILL IT TAKE. WHAT WILL IT TAKE FOR THEM TO BE HAPPY.

Gideon trying to protect Kremy from the “were-Twig.” That’s all.

Chuckles is becoming the most chaotic force again, the balance is returning

TWIG BEING THEIR DAUGHTER

Back to your regularly scheduled chaos :)

LIVE GRICKO REACTION TO POST NUDIST FROST IS GOLD oh I love these guys

Wow Mikey that is a Face to make

Love when Nikkie just forces them together she’s literally taking the characters and going “now kiss”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

COALECROUX DOMESTIC BLISS MOMENT WAHOO 🫵😮🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️

Derek’s little face aww

KREMY. IT IS NOT IRONIC. KREMY SHUT THE FUCK UP AND CONSIDER THE POSSIBILITY OF BEING HAPPY

Love and hate how Donkey Torbek is just Eeyore. Poor little guy :(

Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.

“You feel your consciousness almost leave you with the force of Torbek’s growth— oh that sounds awful” “SOMEBODY QUOTE THAT RIGHT AWAY” on it 🫡🫡🫡

Not the shants 😭😭

No come on keep the Gideon love come on please Nikkie :((((((

Seriously tho it’s very sad that Frost’s robe is gone. That was his old master’s robe and I’m pretty sure the only memory Frost had left of him. Damn.

“You have made……no progress.” Sorry Nikkie :(

Frost’s robe!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And Bag of Holding :)

Andy’s donkey bit is so fucking perfect I love that it’s infecting others. The donkey mnemonic contagion spreads

Oh no, they have to go over a water crossing. That historically has not gone well.

The RagnaRoss and RagnaRachel fanart request…………… guys 👀👀

Love Derek being salty about his roll

Not the frog heads 😭😭

Okay I’m really hungry so I am gonna stop typing now if anything else happens there will be another one

[ttrpg-smash-pass-vs]

DROW

VS ELADRIN

Next is the Drow, a cursed elf with magic to create light and patches of darkness. Most are cartoonishly evil to the point of parody, but that's not actually innate, their goddess just personally has the good ones killed and tries to manipulate/torment them to be even more evil. So there are actually nice ones, I mean they used Drizzt as thier only example photo and he's the poster child for that. Though most drow that survive to adulthood are going to be sadistic and dominant, since Lolth randomly sets even her priestesses on fire just to keep them on thier toes. Primed and ready if you're into manipulation and being used! Or someone with a hell of a lot of trauma.

Eladrin are whimsical magical fey! All of them, since as a PC race they are elves (not fey), are nearly identical, and change only when they want to for all sorts of reasons. Plus the only difference in ability is that autumn charms people when they teleport, winter frightens, summer damages, and spring can teleport other people. I guess the winter still tends to be more dour/gloomy, summer angry/confident, spring joyous/mischievous, and autumn peaceful/generous. But for the PC version here that's not really a requirement since they didn't want to force players into set personalities.

[operationslipperypuppet]

you should talk about melora/telaine/aryox. bc being normal about them is never an option <3

not since 53, at least. (this might be long oops)

to start i’ll like people here, another time i was asked a similar question. so i don’t repeat those things.

firstly, yes. i do think they were together. from some point in their adventure, long before they killed the god, and up until telaine broke the pact. part of the reason why it killed melora when telaine betrayed the promise was because melora thought their love was strong enough to prevent telaine from making that choice. part of the reason why it killed telaine to be trapped in the demiplane by melora was because she thought their love was strong enough for melora to not punish her for breaking the pact.

it’s worse and sadder, i think, if aryox gave up his piece of the heart before his death. (i wrote a fic based on the idea). and his giving it up was an act of love. he was, of course, the original worshipper of melora, the goddess of nature. because he had long been a worshiper of melora, the spring eladrin.

telaine and aryox fought, often. they loved to clash, and huge emotions were how they expressed their love. but they made sure to never get melora stuck in the middle if they could avoid it. because she didn’t deserve that.

meloras love is soft, all encompassing, when it comes to the two of them. like a blanket when there’s a slight chill. like a soft breeze on a spring day. telaine and aryox had loud love, always, but softened when it came to her. and her love softened them. (which is why telaine was so fiery and furious when the boobs met her).

the pact was melora’s idea. she wanted the world to be protected. she hated that it hadn’t protected her, or her friends. so she made sure they became a force of protection for the realm. aryox and telaine, in turn, protected her. from the ways she let being unable to protect the world hurt her. and her priority, always, was to protect them.

aryox knew, when the pact was made, that he would break it. that telaine would break it. he always had that sort of ability, to see the future in snippets. he didn’t tell them. he loved them enough to hope he was wrong, just this once. and when he wasn’t, about telaine, he knew the choice was clear. giving melora his piece of the heart would always be his punishment, from that day he knew the pact had to be broken.

melora’s anger, the kind that mirrored in many of her followers, manifested (manifests) in storms. there were weeks of blizzards when aryox was killed in the frigid north. when her fiercest followers died, people she wanted to protect but couldn’t intervene on, it would rain for days, or wind would whip through the trees at colossal speeds, whatever felt appropriate. when mount forge fell, the protected tomb of her dearest friend, the man she loved, the whole world felt it ripple. the storms weren’t nearly as bad as the cataclysm that came later, but the cataclysm was not the first time all of bahumia felt a godly stormy wrath that summer.

[sylvarisrealm]

Ezekiel (he/they)

The winter court has kept a strong grip on the crown for the past five generations until the new heir was born, with markings on his face that every now and then, for just a moment, shine as bright as the sun.

Born into the Summer court. After what is known as,“The Prince’s mishap” they turned into a Winter eladrin. Years later, they decide to go look for his lover. He became an Autumn and began his journey.

[jester-creates]

Full list of most of my ocs

ill just list important stuff about them (and maybe some bits on au versions of them.) Under read more cause this is going to be long. maybe a two parter. Feel free to ask about any of them

Oliver (known as Shifting Baker in the oc title ask game

I Have a few consistent traits for him. He is always on the range of Hard of Hearing to Deaf. He is always a shapeshifter(cause of which changes depending on the version). He is almost always transmasc, Biromantic and ace. He also always has naturally white hair. He loves baking

some versions of him (plus nicknames):

Playdo (Tma version of oliver)

he's almost fully a Stranger avatar after he got erased from memory after a very dumb wish. uses a hearing aid. has a boyfriend. Gets regular scam calls from the circus. (There's another au version of him where he got taken by the Circus)

Expo (Experiment au Oliver)

ditto hybrid after experimentation stuff. (au is partly inspired by Chained Wings by Vampirebadger) Fully Deaf, uses notepad or phone to mainly communicate, eventually learns sign. (i ended up shipping him with Nemona). Also loves to battle.

Change-o (pla pirate au version)

He's a Changeling here. with one level in rogue. shows up for at least one arc.

---

Juliana (she was originally the sv female mc but i changed enough about her that she is an oc now. i never got a better name)(aka Chaotic One in the title ask game)

consistent traits for her:

Oliver's sister (whether biological or self appointed). also typically has white hair. She's a lesbian.

some versions of her(no nicknames yet):

Tma version

biological twin to Oliver. randomly noticed a person in old family photos that she swore was never there before and goes down a rabbit hole of finding more and more evidence of an entire sibling she forgot about

Experiment au version

Miraidon hybrid after unethical science in area zero. twin to Oliver as well but they don't find that out for a while. (ended up shipping her with penny)

pla pirate au version

She's a Goblin here and runs a scam with Oliver. Shows up in at least one arc in this au.

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Cassandra Achroma (aka the Victorian Biologist)

She is a Colress ancestor oc that I solely use in Experiment au. She does a lot in that au though. She's also Aroace (but very invested in her coworkers love life. It's free entertainment). She's also technically the cause of her own time loop.

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Brittle (aka The Ghost)

And then there's Brittle... She's dead.

She is also transfem and French. Her full name is Peanut Brittle. She named herself.

Experiment au version

She's a rotom after she dies due to science gone wrong. ends up haunting two of the scientists after that. ends up being caught by Juliana somehow

Pirate au version

Reborn (undead) human. lives with Scarlet. (may also be part of the scam Oliver and juliana are doing)

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Scarlet (Aka Feral Flower)

Became an oc after i made a joke character who is a floette that knows Bite and got attached to her. No matter what amount of class or refinery it eventually puts on, she is always itching for a fight and it's clear that it wants one. She's always heavily related to plants.

Experiment au version

Just a flabebe/floette/Florges that knows Bite. She gets better at not biting things as it gets older. It was caught by Juliana in a dark tera raid.

Pirate au version

A summer Eladrin (Feywild elf). She has levels in Barbarian and Druid. Always ready to fight. Lives with Brittle.

---

Tees (aka The Singing Soldier)(originally my dnd pc)

It's a robot with sentience forced upon it. As well as a moustache. It likes the moustache though. It was not built for war or fighting, even though it ended up doing a lot of that, but instead to be a performance (like one of those guys who advertise war) and for moral support (its preprogrammed stuff was not that good at it, very superficial.) It speaks with a British accent. It is compulsed to follow any order given to it.

Tma version

This version of Tees was one of the automatons at that one version of the Unknowing in the 1700's. It gained sentience after the ritual collapsed, likely due to a bit of Slaughter shrapnel finding it's way into it. It starts wandering trying to fill the void of its purpose. All the while the Slaughter shrapnel begins to corrupt its alignment to the Stranger until so little of it is left that Tees begins to have an identity. It ends up fighting in a couple wars before being kidnapped by the Circus (cause it was part of that older Stranger ritual). Makes friends with an au version of Playdo who also got kidnapped for being a Stranger avatar in the wrong place and wrong time.

Original dnd character

Definitely not haunted and given sentience and magic due from its dead friends (who are definitely not an off-brand version of the Mechanisms). Made for moral support forced to babysit the rest of the party. Once scared off a Death God.

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Marcus Quillia (aka the Burned Detective)

One of my oldest ocs. A Private detective who was in a fire directly related to the death of his cousin/best friend. He then wants revenge against what took his cousin from him. He also got fire powers from that fire. He has black and white peppered hair after it.

Marked (ocverse) version

A private detective who tends to be hired by the police. He has a personal vendetta against the international thief known as Jester after an insane Rube Goldberg series of coincidences made it look like they were the ones who killed his cousin. (Actually due to a different oc I'm still formulating so not on this list yet) way too complicated to get into here. He gets a therapy dog after the fire.

he has the Mark of The Burned

Tma version

he was marked and attacked by a Desolation creature which sparked a hatred of Monsters (Fear creatures and avatars specifically). 1 step away from becoming full Hunt/desolation avatar, 1 or two especially cruel kills to throw away his humanity.

he is really good at his job though (thanks to that hunt alignment). he manages to find a person erased from memory years ago even after they changed their gender. (Juliana hired him to find Oliver). (he also later tries to kill oliver because he accidentally did a Stranger avatar thing in front of him.) (in the version where Oliver gets kidnapped, he does manage to help (by getting his killing monsters fix from other circus members)

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Jester (aka masked Jesters)(not my sona)

surprisingly i only use these guys in my ocverse.

They are a pretty famous thief, loving to rob things and maybe return things if they feel like it. Accidentally managed to get framed for murder during one.

they are basically haunted by previous wielders of his mark. specifically the ones who's masks they have. (it's complicated

they have the Mark of The Masked. they have three masks that they can switch between for specific powers. this comes with a few drawbacks. each mask is only tied to one of the "ghosts" and only functions when they put it fully on and its assigned "ghost" is in control and the only remotely responsible one is basically powerless with the power they got

I'll probably explain more in a different post.

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Arthur (Aka King Of Stories)

He's an amnesiac with a texan accent who woke up in a fantasy land (modded minecraft) and eventually finds a kid, whom he adopts(Sigyn <3). He ends up getting mainly involved with fire magic. he names most of the things he tames/adopts after the myths he remembers

he was a ex-soldier who later went into museum curation before he got isekai'd. he's wearing his uniform still but it's been through a lot and he's repaired it with magical thread.

He may or may not have committed necromancy and he may or may not be covering up the permanent scar with a mask he found while exploring. A father's love can bring them to some dark places.

he's also taken up sewing recently

Tma au version

He's still an ex-soldier turned museum curator here, but that changes when the Eyepocalyse comes around. He was one of those who didn't exactly feel Fear after an encounter so he can roam the domains, but of course the Eyepocalyse had to change that and gave him someone to Fear for. (Sigyn <3) She joins him as he roams the domains but now the creatures/domain people will notice them as they move. When they attack, they don't go for Arthur, they go for Sigyn instead.

He's a bit Desolation aligned so he can have fire powers. His main weapon he uses to attack is a axe/Labrys he stole from the museum he worked at when the eyepocalypse started.

He does end up fighting some avatars as he goes through domains

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Sigyn (<3) (aka young Witch)

She's an adaptation of a modded minecraft npc I got attached to.

She's a young witch/wixie (not human though) approximately a 7 year old, but still very knowledgeable about potions.

Arthur found her after he got a request from a paranoid cleric to see if someone was breaking into their church thing while they slept. Sigyn was actually doing so, to try to teach herself to read and to use the potion stand in the church.

She can fly using her broom.

TMA au version

Arthur finds her in a domain dedicated to the Corruption. She was the avatar in charge of it, a child giving adults poisonous potions they cant refuse, too young to really understand what she's doing to them or what's happening with the apocalypse. She ends up going with Arthur as he roams, looking for any safe haven in this apocalypse.

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Wilhelm von Wolfgang

He's a rich bastard (/affectionate). He is his country's greatest violator of labor laws but keeps getting out of it cause he's rich. I hate him. He's one of my favorite characters to write/play as. He cannot stand still without the aid of a cane. He's basically like if a werewolf was a capitalist in both forms. His view of people poorer than him oscillates between 'I can use them' and 'I never want to see them again'. He's neutral evil. He will skip any corner to make more money. I love him.

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Acheron Atropos

he's a goth king literally. I made him for a friend's (@/shattered-hue) ocverse where we made characters based based off of bugs and plants and Acheron was made from the Death's Head Moth, whose scientific name is where i pulled his name from.

(still working a bit on him)

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Sylvan (aka Traveling Librarian)

Sylvan becomes a Head Librarian of a Branch of an Infinite Library after they manage to survive to basically the end of his universe after one of the worst outcomes of 2020, which was all the Stars decided to poof due to multiverse reasons.

he occasionally visits other universes to just get Stories. As an Infinite Library always has room for more books.

---

Virginia Berry(aka the Captain)

From my ocverse: Marked. She has a tattoo of a ship on her back that she can turn into an actual ship that she can control. She has the Mark of the Captain.

I got her name by putting together two of the more famous female pirates.

---

[somehow unnamed as of yet](Aka Truth's artist)

from my ocverse. they have the ability to see a person's greatest secret drawn onto them. (as a general example, a person whose greatest secret is that they killed someone would would have blood drawn onto them). it can be very visually overstimulating for them at times. They ended up getting a (rather bad) job for the government, cause despite how old these "Marks" are they're still rather unknown.

[wizarding-fanfic-13]

This is my first fanfic, just a cute little snapshot into my faery/eladrin Tav and Gale. It’s just a comfort piece for myself, that I wrote after years of not writing for any fandom.

Gale could hear jingling from downstairs, the soft tinkle of Tav’s bells as she moved around the tower, before he heard what sounded like coughing. Gale paused in his studies, looking up from his books and parchment as he listened intently. There was the sound of bells as she moved again, and another round of coughs. He placed his quill down, pushing back from the desk. He had been there a few hours, judging by the weak afternoon sun streaming through the windows of the library.

Making his way downstairs Gale smiled as he came across the start of the winter decorations, winter plants twisting themselves up the bannister, hanging from photos and magical items hung on the walls, bells hanging from the ceiling. As he made his way into the living room he spotted his Tav, fluttering around with the sofa covered in a million different decorations.

Gale leant against the doorway, ankles crossed as he watched his tiny fae fly around, decorating not only with winter decor, but a heavy helping of fairy dust. The fire was blaring, providing heat that emanate throughout the downstairs, and she had charmed the piano to play solstice music. She paused, picking up another sprig of holly, before letting out a tinkling cough again. Frowning he walked up behind his much smaller partner, placing gentle fingers on her tiny back.

“Are you feeling alright, my love?” He asked softly, as she spun around mid flight, turning to face him. Her face was too pale, a deep red hue glowing across her cheeks, as small beads of sweat clung to his forehead.

“Just a little under the weather. Nothing to worry about.” Tav coughed again, her voice hoarse as she tried to speak. Gale sighed softly, holding out his hand. Tav sat down on it, and he took the ivy from her, rubbing her body softly with his thumb as she clutched onto him.

“While I am not unduly concerned, why don’t we pause the festivities while I make you some honey and lemon tea? You could take a potion, and we could continue the decorating together, if that sounds at all pleasing to you?” He watched as she snuggled against his hold, her normally cool body feeling like a small furnace. He used his other hand to stroke back the hair that had slipped loose from her plait, before lifting her up to place a kiss to her head as he heard her sniffle.

“Okay… Could we maybe have some raspberry jam and bread too?” She looked up at him, her eyes large and round, reminding him of a cat. He held her closer to his chest, carrying her through to the kitchen, and glancing around at all the decorations she had placed up.

“Of course we can love, I made some fresh bread this morning before I went to study. It seems you’ve been quite busy yourself. It looks beautiful, Tav.” He looked down at his tiny partner, who pressed herself against his chest and thumb, shivering slightly. As was the case for most fae, she had quite the sweet tooth. And as was the case for the winter fae, she liked to celebrate the colder half of the year quite spectacularly, before she had to suffer through another spring and summer.

He placed her down on her pillow on the counter, before gathering the ingredients together to make the tea. She laid down, curling up to watch him through tired eyes.

“Can we nap on the sofa before we decorate, please?” She rubbed tired, red eyes, and he stepped back over to her, saucepan in hand.

“We can nap once you’ve had some tea, and a potion. We can leave the yule music playing, and snuggle up until you feel like moving again, okay?” He softly stroked down Tav’s side, before placing another kiss to her forehead as she nodded assent, quickly drifting off to sleep.

[stone-stars]

all i’m saying is that it would be pretty damn poetic if callie changed seasons in calder’s absence. like either she becomes a winter eladrin (to feel closer to him, to try to manifest some of his cool energy to keep him with them), or she becomes a summer eladrin (because he isn’t there to cool her off). either way i just think it’d be neat

[timeforelfnonsense]

Read Sunshine & Starlight on Ao3 Pairing: Dafni (F!Tav) x Astarion Rating: M (Later Chapters will contain explicit content) TWs: Light descriptions of canon level violence Tags: Meet cute bad, 3rd person alternating pov, chubby elf OC, Cleric Tav

Summary: Astarion had a plan. A nice, simple plan. All he had to do was not fall for her. After centuries of practice charming victims for his master, it should have been easy, but Dafni of Gwynneth was complications he didn’t see coming. Compassionate, selfless, innocence. She was every good thing Astarion had given up on after two hundred years of torment. There is something familiar about her. An inexplicable pull that draws him to her over and over again. For the first time in his undead existence, Astarion has something to call his own. Something to protect.

“Gods, my head.”

Dafni cringed, her nose screwing up in pain as she brushed the sand from her curls. She wasn’t entirely sure how she ended up on the unfamiliar beach. The last thing she could remember was connecting the transponder. 

Judging by the ship's state, she was lucky to walk away with only a few gashes and bruises. Even the little glass jars and vials within her healer’s kit survived without so much as a crack. She got to her feet, cleaning off what grime and viscera she could. 

She was back on the Material Plane, at least. Of that, she was sure. 

There was a distinct heaviness to the Material Plane, which Dafni had yet to grow accustomed to in the two months since her wanderlust had driven her to leave the misty moors and majestic forests of the Moonshae Isles behind. She hadn’t realized just how thin the veil between worlds had been back home before coming to Bauldr’s Gate. Even in the Material Plane, the Isle of Gwynneth still echoed with the whimsical, wild magic of the Feywild. 

Dafni riffled through her bag, procuring a filigreed compass from the disorganized heap of her belongings. She could feel the airy magic of home tickle her fingertips as she popped it open. The golden needle glowed as it flicked west. 

There was a fey crossing somewhere nearby then. 

Dafni tugged at the hem of her sleeve, her lower lip pressed between her teeth. If she were lucky, it would lead her to the court of the Summer Queen or some other court on amicable enough terms with her own. She could seek sanctuary there and send word to her mother. 

Thesmia’s Spire of Laurel housed one of the most vast collections of elven knowledge outside of Evermeet. There was a possibility a solution to her problem could be found within the walls of her mother’s tower. Dafni’s lips pressed together in a tight line. She loved her mother, but Thesmia’s well-meaning coddling often bordered on stifling. The idea of running home at the first sign of trouble felt too much like an admission of defeat.  

Besides, Nothing stayed a secret from the High Lady for long. It would not be a matter of if she learned of the tadpole, but when. No matter how much favor her mother had once held with Ordalf, she would not risk the safety of Sarifal’s Court for one eladrin. Especially not her.

She took a deep breath, the sweet, synthetic smoke of the nautiloid's smoldering wreckage scorching the back of her throat. Running home was not an option. She’d simply have to find a cure herself. 

No easy task.

But giving up had never been in her nature, and this seemed a dreadful time to start. 

Finding other survivors would be her best course of action. There was safety in numbers, and besides that, there was a chance other survivors may not have fared as well as she had. Magic tickled the tips of Dafni’s calloused fingertips; she still had a bit of power left she could save for more serious injuries. She’d make do with old-fashioned field medicine for anything else until she could rest. There was one thing left to do.

 Her nose wrinkled as she cast a glamour over herself. She’d grown so used to wearing one she had almost forgotten how restrictive her mundane disguise felt compared to the vibrancy of her authentic appearance. 

The magic felt itchy and stiff as if she were cramming herself into clothing two sizes too small. It felt wrong pretending to be something she wasn’t, but she had little choice. The majority of the common folk she’d come across in the Outer City knew very little of the land of Faerie, but the few who saw her for what she was, were quick to label her a trickster and deceiver. She’d need allies if she wanted to get through this ordeal, and she’d rather not start out with an air of suspicion hanging over her. 

There was something exceedingly suspicious about that woman.

She didn’t look like the creatures from the ship, but something about her prickled at his senses. A nearly imperceptible otherness that made his hair stand on end. It was like she was blurry at the edges. Astarion’s brow wrinkled, try as he might to bring her into focus; some invisible force would coax his attention away whenever he came close to genuinely seeing her.

Astarion watched her, crouched low behind the turk of a felled tree. One of those brain creatures had captured her wrist in its tendrils. She gave it a punt, sending it a few feet back with a wet thud. She drew an elegant longbow from her back, releasing two swift arrows. The creature seized, collapsing into a heap of ichor.

Her lower lip stuck out in a pout as she wrapped a hand around the angry red mark on her arm. Light radiated from an amulet around her neck before flashing beneath her palm. A sense of instinctive dread skipped down Astarion’s spine as the air crackled with divine magic.

He felt like an idiot for missing it—the pale blue of her clothing. The eight-pointed star was engraved at the center of her breastplate. He had thought her a mind flayer thrall, but she was something much, much worse. 

A cleric.

He almost laughed at the irony. Of course, he’d be spared by the sun only to be run through by a cleric.  And a servant of the Protector of the Elves, no less. No one could claim the gods lacked a sense of humor.  At least she was pretty. That would take some of the sting out of his demise, even if it was only a mind flayer’s trick.

Her freckled skin was the color of sage and stood stark against the pale gossamer fabric of her puff-sleeved blouse. She was fuller figured than most elven maidens, with wide hips and an ample bust that her light armor did very little to hide. Bouncy, pink curls fell around her shoulders from a high ponytail as she meandered her way up the cliffside path, mumbling to herself in elvish.

Always so quick to roll over, aren’t you? The memory of Cazador’s voice taunted. 

Pathetic. 

Astarion’s nails bit into the flesh of his palms. His lip pulled back into a silent snarl. For 200 years, that’s what he has been. Pathetic. Cazador’s wretched creature. 

But he was free now and never needed to be pathetic again. 

His chances of overpowering her would be slim if he relied on strength alone. But, if he could lower her guard, he might be able to get the upper hand long enough to get the answers he needed. He crouched low beside a fallen tree, doing his best to look shaken and meek.

“You there!” He shouted, “Can you help me?”

“Over here!” He called, waving her over. 

Her breath caught as she drew close enough to see the details of his appearance. A pale elf stood before her. Lean and graceful. 

“Are you hurt, friend? I-I think I have enough magic to heal you, so long as it isn’t anything too serious.” She stammered in clumsy common.

She watched, enraptured, as he ran his hand through a perfect coif of ivory curls. Dafni flushed, imagining her own fingers running through those soft, tossed curls.

He had truly been blessed with the aloof, dreamy beauty of Sehanine Moonbow. An incandescent majesty that demanded admiration and awe. He knew it too. His pretty mouth curled up into a sly, close-mouthed grin. His crimson eyes gleamed with amusement and knowing as he returned her gawking stare with an appreciative glance of his own.

There was something about him. Something more than his spectacular beauty. It tugged at the very core of her. Familiar. Like finding something once beloved centuries after it was misplaced.

Still, she was sure this must be their first meeting. She rarely forgot a face. Especially one as lovely as his. Judging by his finery,  he wasn’t the sort to visit her clinic in the Outer City, and she would certainly have remembered him from court.

“I could do a turn if you’d like?” He quipped, “So you can check for injuries, of course.”

Dafni’s face burned right to the tips of her pointed ears. She was supposed to be helping him. Not staring like a starry-eyed ninny. 

“I apologize, I’m not normally so– Distractible.” 

Dafni strained to keep her smile in place. The taste of soot and bile filled her mouth at her little fib. In truth, she was exceedingly and frequently distractible, even in the best of situations. It was a trait that drove her mother up the wall for years before she released Dafni from her apprenticeship.

The man cleared his throat, stifling a chuckle, “I’m fine, to answer your previous question. I’ve got one of those brain things cornered. You can kill it, can’t you?”

“I– Oh! Yes! Of course!” She stammered, plucking an arrow from the quiver at her back, grateful for the distraction from her self-induced humiliation. 

The tips of her ears twitched ever so slightly to a distant rustling. Her eyes narrowed as they locked onto a shifting patch of grass beyond the cliff’s shadow. Her fingers flexed with tension as she drew back. She had been about to lose her shot when a frightened boar burst from the overgrowth. 

“Good news,” she chirped, lowering her bow, “it was just a–“

Dafni froze, his slender arms wrapping around her waist. He pulled her flush to his frame. A scream had been at the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it at the cold steel brush against her throat. 

“Shh. Not another sound.” He whispered against her ear as he guided her to the dirt below, “Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours.”

“Bastard,” she spat in elvish. A crown of cascading foxgloves bloomed in her hair, her hold on her glamour faltering as the magic strained against her anger. “Spider Queen, take you.”

“ That was quite vulgar for a priestess .” He scolded, tipping her chin up to face him with the edge of his knife. “ Now, I believe I asked you not to speak.”

Dafni took hold of his arm and twisted as hard as she could manage. Did he think her a helpless child? A maiden, too frightened and frail to fight back? With a sharp jerk, she slammed her head into his jaw. Her captor recoiled, losing his grip just long enough for her to break free.

A dull throb began in her head, but anything was better than a slit throat. He snarled at her, spitting out a mouth full of blood. Dafni drew the long sword at her hip, holding it between them.

“Come near me again, and by the Seldrine, I swear, I will cut that smug head right off your shoulders!” 

“You rotten brat!” He growled, “You’re in league with them, aren’t you? Those tentacled –”

Astarion winced, his gut twisting as a wave of vertigo washed over him. He clutched at his scalp, the sharp, nauseating pain behind his eye slowly melting into something else entirely. 

Visions of an ancient forest so lush and vibrant it could have been ripped right out of the pages of a fairy story. Sunset-drenched marble columns and spires wrapped in crawling vines. The sound of feminine laughter.  The bright, spicy-sweet smell of laurel on a temperate breeze. Wanderlust. So deep he felt it in the marrow of his bones.

Memories, he realized. Not his, but hers. Fragments of her life unfolding before him to him in a rapid reverie. 

Chipping, cornflower blue paint, and creaking floors. A shabby townhouse. An elf with mousy brown hair and a sweat-laden brow. The sound of her teacup clattering softly against its saucer in her shaking hand.  The sharp, minty scent of willow bark and creamy elderflower mixed as he twisted the pestle in his hand. The crunch of gravel beneath his boots on the way to the city gate. Nostalgia and homesickness as the old oak trees of the Cloakwood came into view. 

A prayer on his lips as he twisted and writhed against his restraints. Confined to a pod, helpless as the Mindflayer approached, a wiggling tadpole between its gnarled fingers. The taste of sick that threatened to escape his throat. Like ice and shadow, a whisper of darkness crept beneath his skin, calling for vengeance.

“They took you too. I saw it during... Whatever just happened.” He offered her a crooked grin, his voice playful as he continued, “And to think I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards. Apologies.”

He saw her relax a tad as he sheathed his dagger. He scooped her bow up from the dirt, offering it to her with as apologetic a look as he could manage. 

“Apology accepted. I suppose I might have done the same if I thought you were a thrall.” Her expression softened, and she extended a courteous hand, “I’m Dafni, by the way. Practitioner of Corellon’s holy arts, ranger of what I’d like to think is above-average skill, and I suppose, as of today, fellow tadpole haver. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Astarion,” He offered her a shallow bow, taking her hand into his own, “and I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine, darling.”

Her pulse quickened as his lips brushed against the back of her palm. He had caught a whiff of her on the ship, but he hadn’t been able to truly appreciate the nuances of her scent at such a distance. She was floral, woodsy, and tart, with a subtle earthy sweetness that made his mouth water.

“ Astarion, ” She said, speaking each syllable of his name as if she were savoring it, “What a pretty name.”

A shiver slipped down his spine. He had never given his name much thought, but something about the sound of it in her melodic elven accent felt almost intimate. 

 “Well, aren’t you a dear? As much as I'd prefer to stand here and listen to you say my name, I think we may have more pressing matters to attend to.” He said, gesturing to his temple,  “Do you know anything about these worms?”

The cheer fell from her girlish face. Her lower lip snagged between her teeth as she drew in a sharp breath. “I met a woman aboard the ship. She told me they would turn us into mind flayers if we didn’t get them extracted in time.” 

“Turn us into….” Astarion let out a burst of bitter laughter. “Of course, it will turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?” 

A frown touched the corners of her mouth. Her heart ached for him; his tone may have been glib, but beneath it, there was a genuine pain. A world-weary resignation she hadn’t accepted from someone so bold. 

“Hey,” She spoke in a quiet, comforting voice.“I know things look pretty bad, but that means they can only get better, right?”

She offered him a small, hopeful smile, placing a gentle hand on his arm. She cringed as she felt him go stiff beneath her touch. Dafni’s face grew hot. She pulled back immediately, tucking the offending hand behind her back. With the exception of their introductory rituals, most denizens of the Material reserved touching for acquaintances and kin. A lesson she’d learned the hard way after a few humiliating encounters. 

She watched as a touch of chagrin flashed across his pretty face, fading the moment his gaze flicked up from the withdrawn hand. An easy smile formed across his lips. Blite and rakishish, but his eyes still held a touch of uncertainty.  

His reaction felt practiced as if his discomfort mattered far less than the risk of it being perceived. A furrow formed between her brows, her lip catching against her bottom teeth as she bit back her apology. It would be best to drop it. She suspected an apology would draw more attention to his reaction and embarrass him further. 

Dafni tried to keep her tone even, as if nothing had happened, “Maybe it would be a good idea to look for a cure together. There is safety in numbers, after all. Maybe we will get lucky and find the gith woman from the ship or another survivor who knows where we might find a cure.”

Astarion’s posture relaxed slightly, his head tilting to the side as he considered her offer. Dafni could feel her pulse quicken with each passing second. Truth be told, she was desperate for him to accept her proposal. The idea of facing such a task alone was more than a little bit daunting, and despite having made his acquaintance at knifepoint, there was something about him that set her at ease. Perhaps it was the comfort of being among her people; maybe it was his playful charm, she couldn’t say. But, she was confident she would feel much better if they stuck together. 

Dafni let out a breath she hadn’t noticed she’d been holding when Astarion responded, “You know I am usually more of the go-it-alone sort, but you do seem like a useful person and to know. If we could find an expert– Someone who knows how to control these things… We might still have time. Very well, I accept.”

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

major life event sads have sent me back into the arms of yder, and i've got a fresh playthrough going for her. here she is all wintered out! on the horrid squidboat! in hell!

most of her expressions look vaguely 'confused puppy,' which is not what her vibe actually is, and this is one of the few times where i've been able to catch her looking sour. she was trying to go home from work and got fuckin' abducted, this blows.

me @ posh: [insane gibbering]

couldn't put her on vogue bc her legs are tooooo loooong. but i hc that her eladrin states, besides seasons, also change her height. summer is her tallest season, winter is her shortest, and she's probably around 5'5-5'6 here.

i like storytelling through changes in hair. hers is filthy here, and she hasn't had a brush for it. it looks scrungly.

HI BABEEEEE

"oh shit, he was violent from the get-go instead of hiding it, he should totally be my apocalypse roommate."

[clenches fist] he's just the most of all time.

field trip into a stinking ass rotting squidboat with bae <3 gonna kill a mindflayer with my boot <3

okay but legit, she is NOT barefoot for pervert reasons or stereotypical elf reasons, i just hadn't gone to the grove to buy her usual camp boots yet ): and she is just hot ):

big booty and gale time

new hair! in canon she only has one arm due to backstory event, and she uses mage hand as a temp replacement.

bitch what

gdi i love him

[cannibalisticskittles]

OC + Random Associations

tagged by @fiendpact, thank youuuuuu <3

Animal: i always waver between a dog and a cat with her – she's got the teeth and claws of a cat, the propensity for sleeping in and laying around in random bits of sunlight, and her mouth has a bit of that catlike :3 curve, but she is also extremely full of love in a way that radiates out from her much like a dog enthusiastically wagging its tail around exciting new people. either way tho – house pets that will love you deeply and also grievously wound someone who tries to harm you.

Colors: gold + vibrant blues and greens

Month: september?? i will be honest, i hadn’t had a month association before 

Songs: make the grade - jack conte, i won't hurt you - the west coast pop art experimental band, my dog’s eyes - zammuto, existential crisis hour - kilo kish, birdsong - regina spektor.

Number: 1 because she always feels lonely maybe, haha

Plants: asphodel – and I always think of strawberry blossoms when I think about what flower would best fit her, even though she is Very Allergic To Strawberries. sorry babe, but the imagery of the humble little strawberry flower is just too fitting.

Scents: ash, sulfur, whatever the hell bat guano smells like bc of all her spell components – but also something pleasantly warm and earthy, like rocks in a hot spring

Gemstone: i feel like i’ve got to go with amethyst bc. purble. 

Time of day: late late late at night, creeping into the very early morning, when the world is quiet and you can’t help but hear your thoughts (or your worries) clearer than ever before 

Season: autumn – the warm colors and dry crackle of shed leaves for her well, and even more so because she’s recently accepted the patronage of equinox, an autumn eladrin-flavored archfey

Places: caves with bioluminescent plants/fungi, places with strange and magical flora like the feywild, but also busy, crowded city streets where it's easy to get lost in the noise 

Food:  stew! and traveling rations like hardtack or jerky or dry, aged cheeses – things that would keep for a long time on the road. she’s an obligate carnivore, but she does try to pad her diet with as much non-meat as she can.

Drinks: really shit ale that you can buy in bulk at the local tavern as you daydrink with your adventuring party and discuss what steps to take next to fulfill your quest as you also take turns sneakily refilling your friend’s mug so that he remains convinced that it’s magically self-sustaining. (and also, a shitload of water. to wash down the dry ass jerky and hardtack.)

Element: fire

Seasonings: cinnamon and clove! also maybe saffron because she spent so much of her life traveling with trading caravans and saffron seems like the kind of coveted shit that would justify long-ass journeys by guarded caravan.

Sky: night, somewhere in the wilderness where it's so dark that the stars fill the sky everywhere you look

Weather:  hot, dry, windless summer days – if faerûn had wildfire watch levels, it would be stuck on extreme 

Magical power: fireball babyyyyyy (+ a dash of hellish rebuke)

Weapons: daggers. and more daggers, hidden in various places on her body. and teeth. so many sharp teeth. 

Candy/Sweets: honey candy, soft caramels – and pop rocks. she would be delighted by pop rocks.

Method of long distance travel: walking. just… long slogs on foot. walking across distances that are truly miserable to traverse – the sort where you’re ready to give up halfway through but can’t, because turning back would take as long as soldiering on, so you soldier on anyway? that. 

Artstyle: my memory of art styles has not really been brushed up on since my middle school days, i admit, but i think i lean towards impressionism for her

Fear: being useless, being alone, being Known; and, of course, the combination of those fears combined – having someone get close enough to her that it feels like they really know her and see her for who she is and then reject her as not being worth their time. 

Mythological creature: fairies/fae! they're beautiful, terrible, awful little winged shitheads and she adores them. and, to a lesser degree, unicorns, lmao. an association with and an assumption of goodness while also being fully willing and capable of skewering someone.  

Piece of stationery: an old, old notebook filled with small, cramped notes; various plans and calculations and details about people she comes across (‘naming day is just before the winter solstice; remember, they dislike most sweets and pastries’)

Three Emojis: 🥰🔥✨

Celestial body: stars, but distant and far off – she views herself as one of many, not standing out, and she’s very content with that! (imagining herself as one star in a sea of stars would delight her, actually. would feel a little less lonely.) perhaps she is a sun to someone, but that will never be how she sees it.

tagging @amphyn, @biknuckles, @brekkie-e, @fangmich, @lesbianaloy, @meishuu, @riddlcr, @stellamancer, @wasserpl – no pressure tho, haha

[amuhav]

what was your inspiration to create your main oc? (pass the question on)

I'll go with Tayuin, since all my legacy sims were all basically born in-game and were originally influenced by their in-game traits lol. (also I'm on a Tay fix right now, fite me)

I still maintain that Tay was a fluke in almost every way lmao. His face was my first real attempt at TS4 CAS, and tbh he had no right to come out that cute. And I stg I was possessed writing his CotS entry post, I just typed uncontrollably for five minutes and read it back like, "where TF did all this come from???" Even now I go back to it to recheck what tf I wrote to make sure I don't contradict it too much lmao. I made him a faerie because @simlit already had a lot of elf entries for Chosen of the Sun, and I wanted to do something a little different, but didn't feel confident enough with TS4 to do anything too extra lol. also I like faeries fite me.

Long under cut lmao. TLDR; D&D was definitely my biggest inspo lol.

I've always liked the concept of Eladrin elves from D&D, but never vibed with the whole "swapping seasons based on their mood/swapping seasons changes their mood and personalities" thing. I dunno, them changing on a whim just seemed to defeat the purpose of them being "season" based? Why is their connection to summer entirely based on them being angry? Why is that any more unique than the "fire = angry" fantasy trope? I preferred the idea of each season having a much more profound effect on an individual, rather than "I'm angry so now I hit harder" or "I'm sad, so now I control ice" *shrug*. So, I stole inspiration from them and made it my own lol.

Tay's specific broken winter/spring connection thing partially came about from the limitations of TS4 (feckin swatches not being the exact colour I want *grumble grumble*) and also from approaching the whole thing like I was making a level 1 RPG character. Indulging in making them unique, giving them an interesting backstory, but not making them brokenly OP. (Dungeon Masters don't mind special, but no one likes playing with someone trying to act all-powerful at lvl 1 lol)

As for his personality, that was originally inspired by my favourite Dragon Age Origins OC, Benelf. I have replayed him... way too many times lol, his name changing a couple of times (the oldest one, Tanuin, even being the inspo for Tayuin's name). But his personality was always the same in my headcanon. He was a city elf, tragic backstory, an archer, always putting on a sweet, naive, overly good, somewhat helpless persona, but actually snarky and cynical inside, persuasive and able to manipulate others into seeing things his way, or doing things for him. While not entirely analogous, (Benelf still does things for the greater good overall lol) he was definitely the base I used to build Tay upon.

[alastormanifest]

@zahryaofspring​ location: Rome, the STREETS notes: a tour of the city, on foot (but not zahrya’s feet)

The Spring chancellor had been in full bloom, literally, he’d dissipated into like... Wind and flowers and floated around the city. It was nice, for Zahrya anyways, Alastor supposed he could feel the eladrin at the tips of his fingers but that hardly compared to actually having the other’s body pressed against his. The feel of the chancellor’s lips against his own. Alastor was... Addicted, in love, and ready to start the family that Vivianne had promised. There was a conversation that he needed to have with the Spring fey, a question to put forward, and some news that Alastor wanted to share. A vision of the future and the children that the two of them were going to have. He knew it was delicate, but the deed was done, and if not then - then the next time or the time after that. Alastor wanted a family now, just as much as Zahrya did. 

Each step was a labour, but Alastor just kept putting one foot in front of the other as he made his way up Velian Hill towards the ruined temple of Venus. Sweat pooled from his frame as Spring officially swept across the city, bringing with it the preceding temperatures of Summer. Alastor intended to bring Zahrya to Dante’s after this, a bloodbath of festivities was something that he was certain that Zahrya would enjoy. Perhaps, when they were done, they could find someone new for the garden: fresh fertilizer, as a treat. 

Alastor grunted as he gripped tighter onto Zahrya’s thighs, the eladrin was basically solid muscle and he’d only filled out further with the definition of Spring. Denser mass with an added layer of foliage that sprouted here and there. Vines and flowers and weight. Alastor was strong, but he’d been carrying Zahrya on his back since they’d left their private garden. Still, he would not have had it any other way. “We’re almost there,” Alastor breathed, “can you see the top yet?”