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chaoticbardlady99 · 11 months ago

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Repose, My Love, I Have Sinned Enough (Astarion x F! reader)

CW and just content- violence, brief description of gore, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, brief mentions of sexual shiznet

Synopsis- You are a cleric of Kelemvor- a God that detests the undead and resurrection due to it disrupting the natural process. However, the Pale Elf you met in the aftermath of the mind-flayer incident is important to the bigger picture.

You’ve defeated Cazador and Orin, but Bhaal Cultists are still at large and they are specifically looking to kill you.

Song for this particular one shot is Eternally Yours by Motionless in White. Title is derived from the song.

Author note- I can’t remember when I recently read a few concepts on tumblr that I integrated into this writing (I.e. a God did answer Astarion’s prayers- I put my own twist on it, used a line from the game in a different spot for plot reasons). If anyone wants me to write any spin offs about specific moments, please let me know cause I love these two and I lowkey want to write mutually consensual ‘Gods I cannot stand you’ sex.

Hope you enjoy!

Photo belongs to @cheekylittlepupp on Tumblr

You hated him.

Astarion Acunín was single-handedly the worst thing that could have happened to you.

And you had quite literally fell out of the fucking sky with a tadpole in your head.

“My apologies” your ass. The minute he held that knife to your throat should have been enough. He duped you and he duped you good.

Overtime, you thought that Astarion was a pompous ass and you hated him for his existence- everything your God, Kelemvor, rejected. In spite of it all, you still let the man drink from you when he needed blood.

Kelemvor heard your prayers and allowed you to work with Astarion with no retribution to you. Being a part of a Divine plan to save the world has ultimately saved the Spawn.

Oh and Astarion despised you just as much- maybe even more. You were a threat to his safety- only allowed to protect him because your God had allowed it. So what happened once you no longer had need of him?

The two of you fought like cats and dogs, but your actions towards each other were in direct opposition with every nasty word you flung at each other.

The second week into the journey had demolished your armor and destroyed your only camp clothes. You had been silently upset about the endeavor- knowing there won’t be anyone selling any lounge clothes until you get to Baldur’s Gate.

The armor was an easy replacement- people sell plenty of that shit apparently.

You had asked everyone in camp (minus Astarion) if they either knew how to sew, had an extra blanket or cape you could use that they didn’t need, or had an extra shirt. Everyone told you no, but they would keep an eye out.

You tried your best to stitch it up yourself, but the thing had been a damn mess. You were sitting in your bra and leather pants while successfully tangling your shirt with the string.

You had finally had it and screamed at the top of your lungs. You threw the shirt on the floor of your camp and walked off with your Mace. It took an hour of hitting a tree and two wild hog kills before you had calmed down enough to attempt to return to your work. It was almost evening when you left and now it was getting dark as you got back- still in only your (sports like Karlach’s armor btw) bra, leather pants, and your flimsy camp shoes.

Gale had been thrilled to have the fresh meat, but had made you feel horribly embarrassed because he was trying to not gawk.

You had been a good sport about it- ignoring it entirely- and then went back to your tent to try to have something resembling a shirt before dinner.

Except the heap of string and cloth that had been strewn everywhere was gone- your shirt was perfectly stitched up and folded. There was a note attached.

So Gale doesn’t die from a boner induced stroke- Astarion p.s. I still hate your guts.

You gave him the Necromancy of Thay as a thank you and with the condition that Gale never knows.

You’ve also surprised him a multitude of times. You knew the right thing to do was to give him over to Galendral. It was just you and Astarion. You could team up with the monster hunter and just tell the group it had been a sudden “oh shit now I’m allergic to fire” moment.

Instead you helped Astarion kill the man and oooed and aweed over his very nice crossbow together.

Or the time that Araj wouldn’t stop asking him to drink her blood. You got so fed up that you knocked her out cold, woke her up, asked if she got the message, she said yes, and then you knocked her out cold again. Just because it felt good at that point.

“A woman after my own heart.” Astarion teased.

Your companions would frequently yell at you to get a room and you’d both scream about how awful the other is before storming off.

However, the two of you were formidable in battle when you worked side by side. It was the only time the group had any reprieve from your bickering. He stayed close to you and refused to let you go anywhere without him. You finally confronted him on it when he complained for the millionth time about all the walking.

It ended up with you two fighting in front of a very knowing Karlach and Shadowheart, yelling at each other nonsensically, and then Astarion suddenly broke up the fight by saying, “it’s not my fault your God won’t let me resurrect you if you die doing something stupid- which is very possible knowing the nature of this group!”

He stormed off in a huff and you shut up pretty quickly after that.

A flip had switched in your relationship following the first major fight the group had engaged in.

While making your way through the Goblin Camp- you had been injured fatally while trying to protect Gale from Minthara. You had been laughing and borderline crying with the irony of it all- you were allowed to keep the Spawn alive and anyone could resurrect him- but you got to sit there and die. For the first time- you aren’t comforted by the fact that your God will be waiting for you. In fact, all you can think about is Astarion.

Shadowheart was helping kill Priestess Gut and Halsin was in the middle of trying not to be killed by Dro Ragzlin. It was only you, Gale, and Astarion fighting and you are completely out of magic to heal yourself. You swallowed against the lump in your throat and took one last conscious ragged breath. You had let the world start to fade to black and the last thing you saw was Astarion running towards you.

Then you woke up next to the fire hours later with Astarion sitting on the log next to you- his book casting a shadow over his face.

Shadowheart told you that Astarion had practically half dragged her to where you were as Gale was forcing your unconscious body to take healing potion after healing potion. She told him not to worry- they could always resurrect you. Shadowheart says she regrets even uttering those words.

“Are you that incredibly unobservant or are you that ignorant, Sharran?” Astarion snarled, “she’s a Cleric of Kelemvor- resurrecting her would quite literally ruin her life so you better have a better back up plan than that.”

Astarion had been a mess and when they tried to put you in your tent- he had gotten pissed at them even more.

“She sleeps next to the fire, you incompetent fools,” he scoffed, “you can’t honestly expect her to heal in the coldest fucking corner of camp in that shitty excuse of a tent.”

You didn’t know how it happened- let alone twice, but you and Astarion did end up sleeping together. Kelemvor disapproved greatly (making it known after you helped Astarion kill a devil for Raphael) and you pushed Astarion away when he asked you to try to be in a relationship with him.

When he asked why- you told the truth. You were always meant to be enemies- you had allowed this to go on for too long and you should never have indulged in feelings that were silly- foolish even. Astarion’s heart was broken and he has been bitter towards you ever since.

You are the only one who knows that every word you said felt like you were being given a thousand papercuts. You want him so desperately- in every sentimental way you can think of.

But you are nothing- basically powerless- without Kelemvor. You can’t protect Astarion if you have no magic or the ability to heal.

The only exception to his bitterness was the day you barely saved him in time from Cazador.

You had found a blood stain next to his bed when you went to check on him. You had a weird feeling that you needed to. Astarion told you he had to grab something from upstairs before joining you all for a drink.

You had never run so fast- shouting at your companions to get in their gear and meet you at the Crimson Palace. Your lungs hurt as you raced through Baldur’s Gate with angry, vengeful tears streaming down your face.

You had basically demolished every single creature and person who was in your way- your abilities against the Undead coming in handy. Cazador had barely started the ritual when you came in and began slaughtering all the creatures guarding him- your companions were on your heels and came just in time.

You were able to focus on killing Cazador and stopping the ritual. You succeeded. When you released Astarion from his bindings so he could finish Cazador once and for all- the first thing he did was pull you into him and he clung to you for dear life.

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

Astarion decided not to ascend by some miracle. He still hasn’t told you why.

He took you to his grave and asked if you would give your blessing for his new birthdate. You had been absolutely bewildered- saying that is for your God to say, not you.

“I don’t care about your God, Tav,” Astarion said with desperation, “I just want to know you acknowledge that I am living- that I’m worthy of this new beginning. If you don’t feel that way or you just can’t- I will never bother you again.

“But if you do feel that way… please,” he stared at you earnestly, “you are the only one I know worth worshipping- yours is the only blessing I want to have.”

Kelemvor had told you you were on thin ice in a dream that night- your blessing had meant the world to Astarion, but was a cardinal sin to your God.

Kelemvor didn’t have anything to worry about- Astarion went back to being bitter and hateful towards you two weeks later anyway. One day you went from being friends to him bringing partners to fuck in the private room on your floor. He was also back to arguing with you and being nasty as all get out.

You don’t know why the Wood Elf at the Carnival specifically sought the two of you out the other day. You both scoffed at the idea, went into it expecting it to be a disaster, and then promptly avoided each other in the aftermath.

She told you your love for each other is impenetrable.

Considering the current situation- you think it was all just a shitty carnival trick.

It’s moments like these, as you watch him flirt with a very beautiful woman across the room at Elfsong, where you cling to those moments of intimacy you had been able to experience with him.

You are always heartbroken when he brings someone to the private room. It’s close to your bed and you can hear everything.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pretend you are okay with it today. You couldn’t pretend to be ‘just fine’ or unfazed. A child had died under your watch and you had barely killed Orin- the battle was gruesome and you saved Lae’zel in time (Thank Gods).

It has been a hard day. You are incredibly tired and your tipsy brain is grieving the fact that you don’t get to curl up next to him at the end of the day anymore. You haven’t been sleeping well since you stopped sleeping next to him- your nightmares came back in full force.

Your heart is entirely crushed like your spirit. You are certain that it’s beginning to show on your face and it makes you feel gross. You try not to be too obvious with how much you want to leave, but your little walk- sprint is far too awkward and telling.

There are plenty of Taverns to drink from with plenty of people to talk to. It may only be an hour and a half before the sun rises, but tomorrow is a day off so who cares? Besides, Baldur’s Gate never sleeps.

You don’t see Astarion watching you leave, the woman in front of him storming off in envy.

You don’t know that Astarion saw how you looked his way when he got closer to the woman in front of him- let alone that interacting with another person this way instead of being with you makes him equally as heartbroken.

None of these encounters felt right nor did they feel good. He had declined to Ascend- taking it to heart when you said you want him to be a man he can be proud of. Not to mention, you had destroyed an entire palace (Godey was scattered all over the halls) to get to him when he had been sitting there begging Selune of all fucking people to alert Isobel, Dame Aylin, Shadowheart- literally anyone- that he needed to be saved. Then he threw Jergal out there as a “fuck it, let’s try it” and not even 30 minutes later- you were there. Your eyes were full of bloodlust, anger, and vengeance.

Enemies to Lovers to Friends to Enemies again. Both of you are evidently in love with one another and cannot be together because Kelemvor said “psych”. The bards in Faerun will have a field day when that information comes out.

Ever since your display of brutal vengeance, he silently begged for you to finally just be with him. The light touches, the flirty conversations, the yearning looks- just denounce Kelemvor already!

There are plenty of Gods! Jergal could be fucking hiring for all Astarion knows at this point. It’s not like the ancient God of the dead and scribes wasn’t in their camp. He gave Withers a very suspecting look when they got back to camp- the skeleton merely bowed his head in acknowledgment.

Astarion had waited for two weeks- hoping maybe you had a change of heart and just needed the time to come to peace with it.

Nope. Absolutely nothing but friendship so he went back to trying to make you jealous. He knows it’s childish. What were you supposed to do? Denounce your God? The same God that had been there for you when your mother died in your childhood? No- that was and is unfair of him. He doesn’t know what to do anymore.

Astarion just wants one last moment- a tryst even- before you have to become enemies again. His heart aches for you- he adores you and he even admires your dedication to your faith. You’re passionate about the work you do- helping families grieve, providing them assurance that their loved one is safe on the other side, and saving towns from Undead individuals who truly mean harm.

If only he had met you in a different time period- before he was a Vampire- maybe then he could have been with you without the consequences. He couldn’t live with the crushing guilt of making you turn away from your God for him. Astarion can’t ask that of you and he knows he needs to stop trying to manipulate you into it as well.

He leaves the bar and searches the street for you. Astarion is relieved you haven't gotten very far. Bhaal cultists are still on the rise and with their leader freshly dead by your hand- well, it’s safe to assume you made enemies of the cult very quickly.

On the other hand, you continue to be lost in your confusing daze of emotions. The battle against Orin is far from your mind right now and Bhaal cultists aren’t even a thought.

What do you do when the person you want is someone you can’t have because your God says no? People don’t write books or scrolls for this kind of stuff.

Do you run away? Do you let them figure out the Elderbrain on their own? Do you denounc-

No, you think sharply whilst pushing the thought out of your mind. You can’t just stop worshiping Kelemvor.

Or can you?

Your internal war has given you tunnel vision in your pursuit to find the nearest bar- so much so that you don’t see the Bhaal assassin begin his attempt at your life from the alleyway.

You wouldn’t have known you were mere seconds from dying if you hadn’t been roughly pushed to the ground, landing flat on your face.

You scramble to your feet and what you see horrified you. The Bhaal assassin is standing over Astarion- who is now well and truly dead- his throat slit to the bone and a massive wooden stake in his chest.

The scream that tears through you is animalistic- the Bhaal assassin’s eyes widen. You paralyze him and use telekinesis to fling him into the dark alley. You break his arms, his legs, his jaw- the man is gurgling out for help. You mutilate his entire body- avoiding his head. The man is barely clinging to life when you light his entire existence on fire with the Blood of Lathander. You watch as his face melts off and you relish in his fear until his eyes no longer exist.

You almost forget that Astarion is dead. Almost, but only because you refuse to believe it. You drag him into the alley behind some boxes to shield the scene from onlookers. You gently pull the wooden stake out and press on his sternum with your fist.

“Astarion,” you croak, “Astarion- my love- please wake up.”

You are in front of him and trying so hard to see if there is any possible sign of life- you are throwing all of your healing magic at him as you beg him to get up. He can’t be dead. If he’s dead you can’t resurrect him and if you can’t resurrect him…

Your head is spinning and you feel like you can’t breathe.

This is the way of life.

That is what the doctrine teaches. Astarion lived 200 years too long- this is what was always supposed to happen.

You try to walk away- several times actually, but your heart cries out every time in protest.

He’s alone- don’t leave him. He can’t be alone right now. He’s probably so scared and-, You think.

You inhale and exhale- looking at him. You had closed his eyes so that the emptiness no longer haunted you. Nothing about this rest looks peaceful. His lips are still contorted in pain.

I can bring him back- there’s no time for for our companions. Kelemvor will take his soul when the Sun has come completely over the horizon.

You peer out at the sky- the purple sky was already turning to pink. You need to make a decision now and the decision is clear to you. You dump out the contents of your smaller bag of holding and the reincarnation scroll Astarion insisted you keep after the Goblin Camp hits the ground.

You can lose your God. There are many others- maybe even one who will let you love who you want to. On the flip side, there’s only one cheeky vampire rogue that makes you happy though and you can’t let that go.

You open it- the parchment burning your hands and you can feel your power being ripped from you.

Kelemvor is quick- as soon as the incantation leaves your lips and Astarion jolts back to life- you feel all your magic leave your body.

You feel cold, but all you can do is stare at him and cry silently. He’s alive and that is worth far more than any God’s blessing.

Astarion is coughing- touching his chest and throat as he becomes reorientated to his surroundings. Then he looks at you- his eyes going wide when he sees the used Scroll of Revivify in your hands.

“You-“ he chokes on his words, he looks at you with tears in his eyes, “you brought me back.”

You nod back and your lip trembles- you want to wrap your arms around him. You want to feel him hold you back- you want to know he’s alive.

“Why?” Astarion huffs in disbelief, “Kelemvor-“

Really!? Now he cares what Kelemvor THINKS!?

“I could give a shit less what Kelemvor thinks! You- you!,” you snap and throw your arms in the air, “you prick! I want you! I chose you! If I knew you’d be ungra-“

You are pulled into his lap with lightning speed and his lips are pressed roughly against yours. You are flush against each other as if you mean to consume one another. The kiss is sloppy, needy, and full of want- you finally have to break the kiss and breathe.

When you open your eyes to look at him- you are almost rendered breathless immediately after you inhale.

The warm oranges and pinks make him look like an ethereal creature- something celestial instead of undead. Astarion’s smile is a thousand times more bewitching in this light. Astarion is your Heaven and he is your home.

“I’ve missed you,” you say heavily, “and I hate every weirdo you took to bed,” you sniff and wipe your tears on your sleeves “- not cool by the way.”

Astarion’s face is quickly swimming with guilt and he rubs soft circles into your hips with his thumbs. Stray tears are falling down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry Darling- I was being childish and I guess I thought I could… get you to be with me one last time if you were jealous enough.”

You squint at him through unamused, wet eyes and he chuckles nervously- his smile reflecting the “my bad” expression.

“You’re lucky I only had one resurrection scroll on me- otherwise I would kill you right now and bring you back again,” you say with a huff, “or maybe not. You are very beautiful.”

“Why thank you,” Astarion flashes a cheeky grin, “you could stand to mention it more, my Love.”

You roll your eyes at him and you cup his face with your hands- pulling his mouth up to yours to continue pressing soft kisses to his lips. You stay that way until your stomach growls and you flush in embarrassment.

You head back to Elfsong, hand in hand, undeath and Gods no longer keeping you apart.

“Wait,” Astarion stops abruptly and looks around, “what about the Bhaal Assassin? Did he get away?”

You chuckle awkwardly and scratch the back of your head, “I definitely didn’t fatally mutilate him and then burn him alive with the Blood of Lathander… if that’s what you are asking…”

Astarion blinks twice before he throws his head back in laughter, “how quickly did you start that endeavor?”

“Uh… maybe a second or two, give or take,” you frown, “why?”

Astarion rubs the worry from your brow with his thumb and places a chaste kiss on your lips. He smiles down at you cheekily.

“You couldn’t wait 10 seconds before being an absolute freak?”

You beam at him, “for you? Never.”

*************************************

How peculiar.

A die hard Kelemvor Cleric renouncing her faith and celebrating the rebirth of a creature with 200 more years than he was supposed to have under his belt, Withers thinks while striking Astarion’s name off the record, I have much to learn. Matters of the heart are tricky- or so it seems.

Withers had, in fact, responded to Astarion’s prayer. Hells- he answered multiple times about 28 years ago when you were brought into the world. It took a lot of generations to get to you, but it eventually happened within the last 200 years- did it not?

You and Astarion were either meant to collide in one of two ways because Astarion had prayed for two separate things on multiple occasions. One of those prayers was to let him die and the other was to be saved- to eventually be given the opportunity to have a happy life.

You would either kill him in the name of your God and eventually become Kelemvor’s Chosen or you would fall in love with each other and you would denounce Kelemvor- ultimately finding a new God in the chaos. One that doesn’t dictate your romantic relationships, but maybe is a little judgemental of them. Kelemvor and Withers left that to your own free will- Kelemvor testing you time and time again.

The future was leaning heavily towards you becoming Kelemvor’s chosen. It had surprised Withers and Kelemvor when the scales of fate had changed.

Withers watches with neutral eyes as you and Astarion sleep on Astarion’s bed- curled around each other for a post breakfast nap.

Astarion is an enigma to Withers. Vampire Spawn rarely think of others outside of the people they knew in their past. The man had approached him at camp during the early days and flat out asked him if he was Jergal. Withers declined to answer.

The boy is smart- Withers will give him that.

Both parties look content, peaceful, and happier than they had in the last several weeks. Withers returns to his list and his curious thoughts.

The girl has lost her powers- exchanging them for love and she sleeps like a babe.

How will she complete her destiny now, Withers ponders, already knowing the answer.

I could use a cleric or two again…

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #karlach #bg3 #astarion x f! reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion acunin #astarion x female reader #bg3 astarion

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the-mortuary-witch · 5 months ago

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ASMODEUS

WHO IS HE?

Also known as Ashmodai, Asmodeus, Asmody, Asmoday; appears as a Great King 'Asmoday' in the Ars Goetia, where he is said to have a seal in gold and is listed as number thirty-two according to respective rank. He "is strong, powerful and appears with three heads; the first is like a bull, the second like a man, and the third like a ram or a goat; the tail of a serpent, and from his mouth issue flames of fire." Also, he sits upon an infernal dragon, holds a lance with a banner, and amongst the Legions of Amaymon, Asmoday governs seventy two legions of Spirits.

Asmodeus is one of the “seven princes of hell,” a demon whose wickedness is matched only by his talent. He specializes in spreading lust, and he doesn’t just prey on common people. Kings, queens, and even divine beings have been affected by his touch!

BASIC INFO:

Appearance: a strong and attractive young man with shoulder-length black hair, fiery orange-yellow eyes (like burning embers), black draconic wings, and ram horns. When angered, his hair catches in flames and burns to become short, blazing like embers. His horns become more prominent, and his eyes become even more fiery. He goes into battle with a staff or sword commonly, but sometimes with a mace. The dragon he is sometimes seen riding is a trusted friend of his from ages past. He can also appear as a bull or ram, which are aspects of his. His traditional art which shows him as having three heads is simply a symbolization of this.

Personality: Asmodeus is tremendously strong at heart and holds a great deal of wisdom and passion. Overall, he has a very resilient and noble attitude, and is also connected to lust and domination, as he indulges in sexual pleasures. Asmodeus enjoys luxury and sensuality, but can also be very dark and serious when needed, and can become quickly impatient with those who earn his disfavour. He can also feel war-like at times, but in a way that is similar to heroism. But his darker side, however, is called Asmodai, who is one of the most destructive and terrifying of all the demons.

Asmodeus is a master of emotions and knows how to rapidly gain favour by playing to the emotions of crowds, masses, or even single persons. He doesn’t have to lie, he simply uses emotional reasoning to appeal to peoples’ hearts in order to be convincing. He tends to be very kind-hearted, loyal, passionate, and steadfast.

Symbols: upside down red pentagram, cards, snake, crown, scorpion, seal of Asmodeus, money, the element air, and gambling

King/God of: demons, lust, passion, sex, valour, inner-strength, knowledge, craftsmanship, and the pursuit of power.

Culture: Demonic and Jewish

Plants and trees: rose, mint, sunflower, blackthorn tree, mandrake root, belladonna, nightshade, yew tree, lavender, poppy, cypress tree, jasmine, and snakewood tree

Crystals: leopards skin jasper, carnelian, peridot, ruby, cinnabar, black tourmaline, red jasper, and garnet

Animals: bull, snake, scorpion, ram, cats, and rooster

Incense: frankincense, rose, vanilla, cinnamon, and dragons blood

Colours: red, black, yellow, and silver

Numbers: 32 and 3

Zodiac: Aquarius

Tarot: The Devil, King Of Wands, and 6 Of Swords

Planet: Venus

Days: Friday the 13th, full moons, Valentine’s Day, Beltane, and Litha

Parents: Agrat bat Mahlat and King David

Siblings: N/A

Partner: Bensozia, Lilith, Sarah (the daughter of Raguel), and possibly many other demons and spirits

Children: N/A

MISC:

• Lust and carnal desires: Asmodeus is said to have great power over matters of lust and sexuality, and is often depicted as a seducer and temptress.

• Love and passion: he is believed to be able to stir up powerful emotions of love and passion in humans, leading them astray from their true path.

• Sexuality and physicality: Asmodeus is associated with the physical realm and is said to have great understanding and influence over the physical body.

• Material wealth and luxury: sometimes portrayed as a being of great material wealth and luxury, and is often depicted surrounded by opulence and excess.

• Power and authority: Asmodeus is a high-ranking demon in the hierarchy of hell, and is believed to have significant power and influence over humans and other supernatural creatures.

•’Use of seductive and manipulative techniques: Asmodeus is known for using charm, persuasion, and deception to achieve his goals and manipulate others.

FACTS ABOUT ASMODEUS:

• He HATES water, shellfish, seafood (especially fish), complaining, and pettiness.

• Known for his gambling or being over gambling.

• He is also associated with music, battles, and vengeance.

• He rules over the gambling houses of Hell and can bestow luck in gambling and loves to play poker and blackjack in the astral with his practitioners.

• Can be invoked to help with justice or vengeance spells.

• He dislikes birds, but likes cats.

HOW TO INVOKE ASMODEUS:

When working with Asmodeus, it’s important to approach him with respect and caution. Remember that he is a powerful demon and should be treated as such. Be open to receiving his gifts of passion, sex, valour, inner-strength, and more, but also be prepared for his darker side. If you’re looking to connect with Asmodeus on a deeper level, try meditating with his enn (Ayen avage aloren Asmoday aken) or creating a sigil in his honor. And always remember to thank him for his gifts and offerings.

Here are some additional tips for working with Asmodeus:

• Build a relationship: Like any deity, building a relationship with Asmodeus takes time and effort. Try making regular offerings or dedicating a space in your home to him. You can also try researching more about his history and lore to deepen your connection with him.

• Focus on inner strength: Asmodeus is known for his rulerships of inner strength, which can come in handy when facing obstacles or challenges in life. Try working with him to cultivate this quality within yourself, and remember to thank him for his guidance.

• Use protection spells: Asmodeus can also be called upon for protection, especially in matters of the heart. Try creating a protection spell or talisman with his sigil to ward off negativity and attract positive energy.

• Connect with sexuality: Asmodeus is strongly connected to sexuality, making him a great deity to work with for matters of the heart and relationships. Try connecting with him through sexual energy or using his energy to enhance your own passion and desires.

• Always show respect: When working with Asmodeus, it’s important to always show respect and approach him with caution. He is a powerful demon, and should be treated with the reverence and respect that he deserves.

Another fun way to work with Asmodeus is to create a vision board that reflects his rulerships. Cut out pictures and phrases that represent passion, sex, valour, and inner-strength, and arrange them on a board or piece of paper. Place this vision board on your altar or carry it with you as a reminder of the gifts you’re seeking from Asmodeus.

PRAYER FOR ASMODEUS:

"Oh mighty King Asmodeus, ruler of the underworld and master of the infernal realms, I call upon you in this moment. I beseech thee to draw near and manifest your presence before me. By your divine power and authority, I seek your guidance, protection, and assistance in the matters that concern me.”

 “I acknowledge your greatness and offer my respect and devotion to you. Hail Asmodeus, King of the Fire and Ruler of the Underworld!"

SIGNS THAT ASMODEUS IS CALLING YOU:

• He shows up in your dreams.

• Shows up as the King of Wands when using tarot cards.

• Feeling of being watched or accompanied by a supernatural presence when alone.

• Seeing or drawing toward animals associated with him (bulls, snakes, scorpions, rams, cats, and/or roosters).

• Unusual dreams or vivid visions, often involving themes of love, lust, or sensuality.

• Experiencing feelings of intense desire, passion, seductive, or sexual energy (in my personal experience).

• Feeling a sense of connection or communication with a supernatural entity or presence, especially during meditations or rituals.

• A sudden need or desire to explore darker or taboo aspects of your personality or desires.

• Feeling a stronger connection to the elements of fire or earth.

• Observing unusual synchronicities or patterns in your life that remind you of him.

OFFERINGS:

• Sexual acts.

• Roses.

• Cards.

• Frankincense.

• Dice.

• Food and drinks: pineapple, oat meat, alcohol (red wine, spiced rum, and whiskey), spicy food, lemons, limes, chestnuts, honey, chocolate, and natural made lemonade

• Bull, ram, or narwhal horns.

• Sunflowers.

• Black or red candles.

• Shadow work.

• Carnelians.

• Axes.

• Maces.

• Ornate swords.

• Money.

• Cinnamon scented candles, incense, perfume, (anything cinnamon scented overall).

DEVOTIONAL ACTS:

• Participating in activities that he may appreciate, such as creative pursuits, sexual expression, or pursuits of power and control.

• Boundary work.

• Leaving offerings such as wine, herbs, or flowers on his altar.

• Engaging in acts of passion and pleasure.

• Working towards personal goals and desires related to sexuality, power, and success.

• Singing and overall talking to him.

• Making a meal in his name.

• Shadow work.

• Knowing how to stand up for yourself.

• Learning to stand up for others.

• Lighting a candle or incense in honour of Him.

• Coming to terms with your sexuality.

• Body worship.

#fyp #fypシ #fypシ゚viral #fypage #fyppage #tumblr fyp #satanism #satanist #deity #deity work #king asmodeus #demon #lust #information #helpful #occult #masterlist

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thecreaturecodex · 8 months ago

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Demon Lord, Orcus

Image © TSR Inc, by Todd Lockwood.

[Sponsored by @tar-baphon. Orcus is one of the iconic D&D villains, and through the SRD and plausible deniability (he's a Roman god!), he's in Pathfinder as well. In Pathfinder, he is deliberately not a power player, and my flavor text takes that already metatextual decision and runs hog wild with it.

A note on the art: I feel like Orcus is emblematic of when D&D was seen as dangerous, and this piece absolutely feels like it should be the cover of a Black Sabbath album. It's no surprise that I was fascinated with the anti-D&D strain of the Satanic Panic when I was a kid. Also, although there has been some course correction in the 5e era, there's a trend with Orcus in a lot of art, including his official Pathfinder depiction, of making Orcus buff. Let Orcus be fat!]

Demon Lord, Orcus CR 28 CE Outsider (extraplanar) This humanoid is a corpulent giant with skin mottled like a decaying corpse. He has great black bat-wings growing from his shoulders, hooves for feet, and the head of a goat. He clutches a short staff, tipped with an oversized human skull.

Orcus, Prince of Undeath CE male demon lord of death, necromancy and wrath Domains Chaos, Death, Evil, Magic Subdomains Demon, Divine, Murder, Undead Favored Weapon heavy mace Unholy Symbol a goat’s head with curving horns Worshipers liches, necromancers, sapient undead Minions boneclaws, deathdrinkers, demons, other undead For information on his Obedience and boons for his worshipers, see Book of the Damned

Orcus is one of the most powerful demon lords in the Universe. But not on Golarion. On that world, his is one of a number of undead cults, and not nearly the most popular. Orcus has a clear hierarchy to what undead he considers truly worthy, with those created from contagion seen as inferior to accident, and those inferior to those who intentionally seek out undeath. His most dedicated worshippers on Golarion are liches, some of whom have learned the secret of crafting a phylactery by teasing apart the Prince of Undeath’s wisdom from his threats. The followers of many other undead-focused religions, particularly vampires and ghouls, see Orcus as pretentious and unworthy of dedication, although few are foolish enough to directly oppose him.

Orcus himself knows that his star has fallen. In his extensive research into planar lore, Orcus has learned that he was once the most feared being in another universe, who went on a killing spree that left several gods dead and an entire race of lawful outsiders duped into being his pawns. That Orcus cannot accomplish this level of power in this version of reality vexes and frustrates him, and he takes his rage out on his minions as much as he does his foes.

Orcus is a genius tactician, although his temper sometimes gets the better of him. He enjoys combat as a distraction from his cosmic-level sulk, and as a way of expressing his power over others. He typically opens combat with a time stop to summon allies and cast defensive spells on himself, and then unleashes a potent death effect as soon as the duration expires. Against creatures that can resist his negative energy and poison, he uses dispelling magic. On more than one occasion, Orcus has beaten a cocky archmage to a pulp by centering an antimagic field on himself and wading into combat.

Orcus in the Great Game Orcus’ response to the brewing theomachy between Mormo and Lamashtu is cautious optimism. He desires more power in the Abyss, and Lamashtu could open the door for him to seize it. Kabriri and Zura are at the top of Orcus’ hit list, but views a direct assault on them as currently too risky to be worth the effort. If one of them were to make a move against Lamashtu and be punished for it, or if they were struck down in the scramble for power following Lamashtu’s (theoretical) demotion or demise, Orcus would happily swoop in to finish them off. And if Mormo is capable of legitimately slaying a god, Orcus will be very keen to study her techniques.

Wand of Orcus (major artifact) The Wand of Orcus is the Prince of Undeath’s scepter of office, and it never leaves his side. Lesser versions have appeared in the Material Plane, often created by Orcus or one of his high-level clerics. The real Wand of Orcus is a Huge +5 anarchic, unholy heavy mace. In the hands of a demon, it grants a +4 profane bonus to Armor Class. The first time the Wand of Orcus strikes a living creature in a round, that creature is subject to a slay living spell (DC 30). Weight 24 lbs.; CL 25th

Demon Lord, Orcus CR 28 XP 4,915,200 CE Huge outsider (chaos, demon, evil, extraplanar) Init +11; Senses arcane sight, darkvision 120 ft., detect good, detect law, Perception +48, true seeing Aura frightful presence (120 ft., DC 36), undead obedience (120 ft., Will DC 36), unholy (DC 28)

Defense AC 47, touch 23, flat-footed 40(-2 size, +7 Dex, +4 deflection, +4 profane, +24 natural) hp 709(33d10+528); regeneration 30 (deific or mythic) Fort +31, Ref +29, Will +34 DR 20/cold iron, epic and good; Immune ability damage, ability drain, charm, compulsion, death effects, electricity, energy drain, petrification and poison; Resist acid 30, cold 30, fire 30; SR 39 Defensive Abilities Abyssal resurrection, freedom of movement, negative energy affinity

Offense Speed 40 ft., fly 60 ft. (average) Melee Wand of Orcus +51/+46/+41/+36 (3d6+20 plus 2d6 chaos and 2d6 evil/19-20), claw +44 (1d8+7), sting (2d4+7 plus poison), gore (2d6+7) or 2 claws +46 (1d8+15), sting +46 (2d4+15 plus poison), gore +46 (2d6+15) Space 15 ft.; Reach 15 ft. Special Attacks epic spellcasting, powerful charge (gore, 4d6+22) Spell-like Abilities CL 28th, concentration +38 (+42 casting defensively) Constant—arcane sight, detect good, detect law, freedom of movement, true seeing, unholy aura (DC 28, self only) At will—animate dead*, astral projection, blasphemy* (DC 27), circle of death* (DC 28), create undead, enervation*, greater dispel magic, greater teleport, plane shift* (DC 25), telekinesis* (DC 25), unholy blight* (DC 24) 3/day—control undead (DC 29), create greater undead, energy drain (DC 31), finger of death* (DC 29), quickened greater dispel magic, quickened harm*, summon demons or undead, symbol of death (DC 30) 1/day—power word kill*, time stop*, true resurrection, wail of the banshee (DC 31) * Orcus can use the mythic version of this spell-like ability in his domain Spells Prepared CL 20th, concentration +32 (+36 casting defensively) 9th—energy drain (DC 33), etherealness, mage’s disjunction* (D, DC 31), overwhelming presence (DC 31), soul bind (DC 33), wail of the banshee (DC 33) 8th —cloak of chaos (DC 30), fire storm* (DC 30), greater spell immunity, horrid wilting (DC 32), orb of the void* (DC 32), protection from spells (D), unholy aura (DC 30) 7th —control weather, destruction (DC 31), greater scrying (DC 29, x2), repulsion, spell turning (D), waves of exhaustion 6th —antilife shell, antimagic field (D), banshee blast (DC 30), blade barrier* (DC 28), geas/quest, harm* (DC 30), mass bull’s strength 5th —dispel good (DC 27), flame strike (DC 27), greater command (DC 27), mass ghostbane dirge (DC 27), righteous might, suffocation (D, DC 29), vampiric shadow shield 4th —contagion (DC 28), death ward (D), divine power (x2), rest eternal, sending (x2)*, tongues 3rd —bestow curse (x2, DC 27), prayer*, protection from energy, rage (D, DC 25), ray of exhaustion, vampiric touch*, water breathing 2nd —bear’s endurance (x2), death knell (D, DC 26), desecrate, owl’s wisdom (x2), resist energy, spiritual weapon* 1st —bane (DC 25), divine favor (x2), entropic shield, identify (D), ray of enfeeblement* (DC 25), sanctuary (DC 23), shield of faith* 0th—bleed (DC 24), detect magic, light, read magic *—Orcus may use the mythic version of this spell in his Abyssal domain

Statistics Str 40, Dex 25, Con 42, Int 30, Wis 35, Cha 31 Base Atk +33; CMB +50; CMD 71 Feats Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes, Craft Magic Arms and Armor, Craft Rod, Craft Wondrous Item, Flyby Attack, Greater Spell Focus (necromancy), Greater Spell Penetration, Improved Critical (heavy mace), Improved Initiative, Hover, Multiattack, Mythic Spell Lore (B), Power Attack, Quicken SLA (greater dispel magic, harm), Spell Focus (necromancy), Spell Penetration Skills Bluff +46, Craft (alchemy, weaponsmithing) +46, Fly +36, Intimidate +43, Knowledge (arcana, planes, religion) +46, Knowledge (dungeoneering, history) +43, Perception +48, Sense Motive +48, Spellcraft +46, Stealth +35, Survival +45, Use Magic Device +46 Languages Abyssal, Common, Draconic, Infernal, Necril, telepathy 300 ft. SQ demon lord traits, master of death

Ecology Environment any land or underground (Abyss) Organization unique Treasure triple standard (Wand of Orcus, other treasure)

Special Abilities Aura of Undead Obedience (Su) Any undead creature within 120 feet that attempts to make a hostile action against Orcus must succeed a DC 36 Will save or be unable to take that action, wasting it. The save DC is Charisma based. Epic Spellcasting (Ex) Orcus gains Mythic Spell Lore as a bonus feat. Once per day, he can use one of his spell-like abilities or spells as if it was a mythic spell without spending a use of mythic power. This allows him to use a mythic spell or spell-like ability outside of his Abyssal domain, but he cannot augment that spell or spell-like ability by spending additional uses of mythic power. Master of Death (Ex) Orcus applies his Spell Focus and Greater Spell Focus (necromancy) feats to his spell-like abilities. Death effects created by Orcus, including the Wand of Orcus in his hands, ignore immunity to death effects except for those granted by creature type, or from deific or mythic sources. Poison (Ex) Sting—injury; save Fort DC 42; duration 1/round for 4 rounds; damage 1d6 Str and 1d6 Con; cure 2 consecutive saves. A creature reduced to 0 Str by Orcus’ poison cannot breathe and begins to suffocate. The save DC is Constitution based. Spells Orcus can cast spells as a 20th level cleric, and can prepare necromancy spells from the sorcerer/wizard list as if they were cleric spells. He gets access to domain slots, and can fill them with spells from any of his domains or subdomains. He can also spontaneously cast inflict spells as an evil cleric can. Summon Demons and Undead (Sp) When Orcus summons demons, he can also summon undead creatures.

#orcus #demon #demon lord #pathfinder rpg #pathfinder 1e #D&D #satanic panic #todd lockwood #undead #outsider #necromancer #sponsored post #demigod

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ramayantika · 1 year ago

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Krishna (mystery academia)

I was inspired from that old Vishnu post and that Delhi vala post so here we go. No idea how this will turn up though par dekhte hain.

No, it can't be a dream. You have pinched yourself twice, and your sister has been calling your name out from the past five minutes, but you can't help yourself. Your eyes are transfixed at that giant grey cloud hovering majestically in the sky. A face is etched on the cloud. He looks enchanting.

Your books have fallen on the floor. A mysterious flute tune rings in your ear. You haven't heard it anywhere recently, but the melodious tune starts to grow too loud. Look carefully, who is the girl in a pink saree, her golden bangles blind your vision and you hear a boy's sweet laughter before your legs give out.

It's Janmashtami night. The clock struck 12 and kids from your society broke the pot. They jump around in getting some money from the dahi handi while the adults clap and call their kids to come home. Everybody chants jai shri krishna and bows down folding their hands. You too close your eyes. Once you raise your head to look at the Krishna murti, your eyes see a person standing behind the murti, twirling a flute with his nimble fingers. Someone snaps their fingers beside your ear. The figure vanishes.

'yada yada hi dharmasya glanir bhavati bharata abhyutthanam adharmasya tadatmanam srijamyaham' Goosebumps rise on your skin and a divine vision graces your being. The sun and the stars collide, but everybody keeps breathing. The sound of a conch fills your mind and you see someone larger than any human, than any other organism on earth stand in a battlefield. He looks fierce once and then in a blink turns as calm as a river.

'paritranaya sadhunam vinashayacha dushkritam dharma sansthapanarthaya sambhavami yuge yuge' Tears flood down your eyes as you wake up from yet another dream of this all pervading misery encircling the world that has given itself to crimes and murders, forgetting that the quest for lust, greed, pride and ruthless power has gone in vain. Once again you stand on a battlefield witnessing hundreds and thousand of mighty warriors flanked by their elephants and horses. On your side stands one man. Just one man -- wielding a chakra and a large mace. He charges off at every soldier. In seconds bodies pile up on the battlefield and a guttural cry pierces your ears. The lone warrior clutches every fallen body and weeps.

The sweet smelling fragrant chandan makes you smile. The old temple priest, a gentle soul patiently applies tilak to all the devotees. After ten people comes your turn to apply the tilak. The priest's eyes brighten as if he has known you since long. You don't know him. This Krishna temple is far away from your home. The priest looks back at the beautifully decorated Krishna murti and smiles. You blink and turn your eyes to a pillar beside the garbhagriha. There stands a boy too gorgeous to be real, a form so enchanting that it etches itself on your eyes. You feel your heart thumping as the fragrant chandan clouds your senses. You are about to fall, but that lovely looking boy catches you in his arms. Flowers fall on your head and a sweet voice whispers, "Will you finally come back, sakhi?"

The night sky is full of stars tonight which is highly unusual for this busy city. Two stars gleam the brightest. You try to figure which constellation they belong too until hundreds of stars come together forming an image of a peacock feather.

At Prem Mandir in Vrindavan, you eagerly watch all the moving sculptures showing different pastimes of Krishna. Somewhere nearby, a group of ladies are singing Meerabai's songs. Your feet tap on their own accord and you feel yourself sway. When did you raise your arms to the sky and twirl? Nobody knows. Your family watches you laugh and dance in the temple. You look at no one but Krishna. The handsome boy from the temple is back again wearing bright yellow clothes -- not too hard to miss. A rough shake on your shoulders makes you open your eyes. The devotees in the temple are staring at you, but you blush in awareness of a certain dark one looking at you.

You sit gazing at the cool waters of Yamuna, the river which played an important role in Krishna's life. She saw his arrival into Gokul and his departure to Mathura. The texts and the old say that she later accompanied him as his wife to Dwaraka. You bow your head at her and dip your feet into the water. Nobody is at the ghat, it's all quiet and peaceful. Yamuna cools your body and a sense of calmness pervades your mind. You feel yourself slipping somewhere. The river like a gentle mother's touch touches your skin. "Do not fear, friend."

The car is about to cross the borders of Vrindavana. You feel your heart cry for an unknown separation. All these nights, you heard female voices whispering, "do not leave." At dawn you woke up with the sounds of a flute and sometimes your evenings were blessed with a boy gracing your hotel's terrace at sunset. He carried a peacock feather with him. You never shared a word with him nor did he with you. The steep silence yet felt comfortable.

Should I stay? Should I go? Should I call that boy and say goodbye, but how do I find him? What is this feeling in my heart? I feel it break into pieces. The driver caught your eye in the mirror and you hear a screeching break, The small flute replica hits the backside of the mirror and there you see a divine view once again.

Surrounded by cows, his feet crossed, he stands with a flute donning yellow garbs. You see the sun and the moon in his eyes. The universe gleams in his limbs. He appears magnificent. The divine sound of the conch rings again and you fall at his feet. 'I am all yours, Shyam.'

'Glad to have you back finally sakhi...' Red palms touch your forehead and the figure in front shines with bright white light like a halo around him. A lotus flower is placed on the last page of your book over Krishna's photo. The afternoon sky is now grey and far away you see a dark cloud emerging towards you.

"It shall start again, isn't it?"

Tagging the sakhis: @sanskari-kanya @shut-up-rabert @krishna-sahacharini @ketchup-jar-ka @arachneofthoughts @jessbeinme15 @ma-douce-souffrance @tumhari-bhairavi @manwalaage @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @reallythoughtfulwizard @bambioleo @morally-gayy @krishna-priyatama @kaal-naagin

#krishna #mystery academia #krishnablr #hindublr #desiblr #indian gods #desi aesthetic #samridhi writes

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windswept-ocs · 3 months ago

Note

"Oh- Well-"

-> She gets a little flustered with being put on the spot, needing a moment to think before she speaks.

"I believe our safest bet would be to exclude Bone Mace... Even if we did want to, I doubt he'd come. He's always "too busy" despite having that silver spoon in his mouth..."

-> An elderly female demon entered Thieves' Den, staring around with curious eyes. This wasn't HER Thieves' Den and she knew it, but she couldn't help but be curious. - @windswept-ocs [WOODSTAFF]

Glory is rearranging things in their semi-outdoor office, their second set of smaller insect arms flexing slightly as they move some things from their bamboo bookshelf.

Lanterns hang overhead, the furniture is made of bamboo & light colored woods, earthy & natural decor adorning the bookshelves & tables. There are weapons & other sharp objects displayed on the wall, & flora in the shape of the Thieves Den logo.

They don't seem to notice the other leader. Glory is also in a less casual 'mode', their blindfold off, being discarded on their desk.

#woodstaff ic #glory interaction #bone mace mention #leaders of divine nature / woodstaff and glory

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magnoliasandarson · 2 months ago

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the little engine

Timothy Drake was running on fumes. Whatever drive he'd had- whatever divine fuel that had once pushed him through sleepless nights and unwinnable fights- it was gone. Used up.

It left a chasm in his gut, the phantom burns of righteous fire and the knowledge that no matter how tired he was- he couldn't stop.

There was a slow escape of blood oozing from his ruined cuticles, like sap bleeding from a weather-beaten pine, it smeared onto the faded letters on his keyboard. His fingers didn't cease their frantic tapping, every fifth tap erasing the previous three. He couldn't think right. None of the words or numbers were the right ones, but he had to do this- he couldn't stop.

His eyes flickered across his darkened apartment to the framed pictures of his friends, fuck, he hadn't spoken to a single one in days. Between patrols, board meetings, city works projects, and cold cases he hadn't slept more than twenty total hours in the past week. They must hate him by now, he had sworn to message everyone but the great Timothy Drake was incapable of keeping a promise. His eyelid ticked as he downed the rest of his coffee in one go. It didn't matter if he was a bad friend, a bad brother, a bad son- he had a job to do, and he couldn't stop.

There was pain now, wrapping around his skull like a vice. He tugged at his hair and scrubbed his face with bloody fingers, grimacing at the tacky feeling of half-dried scabs. It felt like he had been maced, his eyes burned so horribly. But he clicked send on another solved case and opened the next, there were people out there that depended on him- he couldn't stop.

The sun was rising at his back, its warmth adding to the uncomfortable sweat that had started beading on his skin. A stray beam of light caught his darkened computer screen, and for a horrible split second- he saw himself.

If you were to ask him what happened next, he would smile an odd half-smile and say he finally took a nap.

But that wasn't entirely true.

The glimpse of his face- the heavy bruising under his eyes, the way his bones stood out against his skin, the cracked and bloody lips- it poured ice cold water on whatever embers had been left in his chest. He snapped his laptop shut and pushed it away, launching up from the table and shoving his chair several feet back. Air flooded from his lungs and tears, hot and acidic, carved their way down his face into the cuts on his lips. He careened to the floor in his kitchen, heaving and gasping- he couldn't breath but he couldn't stop.

Hours later, he would wake up again in darkness. The moon auspiciously absent in the sky, Tim Drake would see the dozens of emails marked URGENT, the notes from Oracle about suspected movements, the texts from friends asking how he was- and he would force himself to get off the floor. Because Timothy Drake was a hero, and he couldn't stop.

#tim drake #timothy drake #timothy drake wayne #red robin #dc red robin #dc comics #dc universe #batman #robin #batfam #titans #young justice #tim drake red robin #oracle #bruce wayne #oracle dc

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larsisfrommars · 10 months ago

Text

The Light Won’t Die

Halsin x Tav

Rating: E for Everyone

Chapter: 1/??? (Next Chapter ->)

Word Count: 732

Genre: Adventure, Hurt/Comfort

Content: Halsin x Male!Tav, Fighter!Tav, The Blood of Lathander the goodest weapon, Act 2, The Shadow Curse, Halsin has unresolved PTSD and not enough people talk about it, Tadpole anxiety.

“Tav was haunted by the gnawing desire to pry into the Druid’s thoughts. He wasn’t sure whether that desire belonged to him, or to the mindflayer tadpole burrowing in his skull.”

———————✨🌿✨———————

The events at Crèche Y’llek had been harrowing to say the least. The return to camp was arduous, spells depleted, muscles aching. But the rewards had been undeniable.

Tav twirled his new mace in his hands “The Blood of Lathander” the beastie was called. Tav was not a holy man, but he’d be a fool to reject the aid of the divine. Especially one so tied to the daylight as Lathander when they approached a place so dangerously opposed to it.

It glowed with the warmth of day even as the sun sank behind the mountains for one last evening. With its sinking Tav’s stomach followed suit, he was not afraid of the dark. Did not fret even that the shadow curse would get the better of his ever mightier band of misfits.

But he would miss the sun.

Tav’s heart twinged knowing he was not the only one who’d be denied this simple pleasure. Who’d been denied it before for far longer than he would have to endure, he realized a bit shamefully. Yet he found they were not the ones he felt the most concern over.

Tav felt a large hand on his shoulder, to whom it belonged was unmistakable. As though his thoughts had summoned the Archdruid to his side. He looked up at the elf before they both turned their gaze to Tav’s prize once more.

“A fine weapon, you were wise to seek it out before approaching this place. The land now crawls with undead, all that’s left of those who could not escape.”

Halsin’s gaze turned toward the gnarled path ahead of them warily. The edges of the curse already made themselves known in a trail of dead animals and gnarled, diseased looking tree trunks. That alone Tav was sure would be enough to burden any Druid’s heart. Though based on what Halsin had told them so far, Tav had a gnawing sense there was more to it than that.

“How did you? Escape I mean.”

Halsin’s breath caught and grip on Tav’s shoulder squeezed somewhat before departing from it. He’d surprised him. Wherever Halsin’s mind had gone, it was no where pleasant.

“Apologies, I was… lost in thought. Perhaps that is a story for another time. Better to prepare for the spring than to dwell upon the strain of the winter.” He cracked smile that neither of them believed as he tried to move on to other matters.

“Anything more you could tell us would be helpful, if it comes down to it…“ the looming possibility of failing hung unspoken in Tav’s words.

“If things turn for the worse, then I shall tell you. I have spent a great deal of my long life seeking a way to end this curse. I don’t think it behooves us to speak of failure before we’ve even begun.” Halsin replied in earnest.

The normally affable Druid had a slight edge of desperation to his voice that bid Tav turn away from this line questioning. So he bit his tongue for the time being.

“Of course, sorry. I almost forgot that not all of us are heading to this place due to unwelcome guests. I’m sure lifting this curse means a lot to you.” Tav responded, sympathy seeping into his final words.

“Yes, it does.”

With that, Halsin walked away. Leaving Tav with a further steeled resolve, and a leaden ball of apprehension in his heart.

Though the camp chattered in its usual manner, nervousness, curiosity, and from their Cleric an unusual level of excitement. Tav felt disconnected from them all, save for the large elf across from him.

Though no words were exchanged, a mutual understanding of the gravity of what they must do hung between them. Halsin it would seem taking the majority of the weight, given his stony expression. The usual warmth in his eyes dampened, but not altogether smothered, to Tav’s comfort.

It was peculiar, considering that if they chose to, the party could read one another’s thoughts, save for Halsin. Perhaps it was the notion of forbidden fruit. Tav was haunted by the gnawing desire to pry into the Druid’s thoughts. He wasn’t sure whether that desire belonged to him, or to the mindflayer tadpole burrowing in his skull.

That worried him more than anything than he had heard shadow curse may throw at them. He resolved to respect the Druid’s privacy. No matter how much he wished to know what motivations lie behind his abdication and plunging into danger. No matter how concerned he felt for the Druid’s wellbeing. Even though it would be oh so very easy to enter his mind.

No, Halsin would come to Tav freely, or not at all.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin silverbough #BG3 fanfic #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #halsin x male reader #halsin x male tav #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #fanfic

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warsofasoiaf · 3 months ago

Note

Say while setting it up one of the barrels of wildfire under kings landing exploded and the whole city goes up before the rebels arrive what happens next

Well, the rebels advance to find the city destroyed, small pockets of fire burning, but for the most part the city would have essentially been fantasy napalmed out of existence. 500,000 people and the largest cultural and economic city of Westeros gone in an instant. That makes administering a new Seven Kingdoms very hard, unless Robert can successfully paint the explosion of the city as divine judgment against Aerys Targaryen for his tyranny. With Robert's connections to Jon, Eddard, and through those two to Hoster, he has the social clout to keep a lot of Westeros together in the short-term.

Tywin is still alive, but Jaime is dead, which makes Tyrion the heir apparent to Casterly Rock. Elia Martell and the Targaryen babes are vaporized, so Doran is put out but not excessively so. Rhaella likely still declares Viserys the next King of Westeros, and the rebels need to build a fleet to take the fight to Dragonstone. Mace Tyrell likely lowers his banners without a fight at Storm's End in the face of supernatural armageddon at King's Landing.

The big thing I see is that the aftermath would be hard to administer. Robert may become an itinerant king, moving between the many large holdings of Westeros and using wherever he was similar to the kaiserpfalz of the Holy Roman Empire. Otherwise, the destruction of King's Landing might be interpreted as a sign of the gods that the Targaryens were smitten by their blasphemy and the Seven Kingdoms dissolves into component kingdoms albeit with the Southron Ambitions bloc tied together through marriage and fosterage.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

#what if #robert's rebellion

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xielians--lver · 9 months ago

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Divine Warriors

Here is some info dump about MCD's Divine Warriors in my rewrite, not all of this is known to the public of the mortal realm (especially the stuff about Shad.)

Irene the Matron: There isn't much known about Lady Irene's past, the only evidence they have are the scriptures Enki had written. Though most were burned. It is a common concept that she grew up in a small village (later Scaleswind) in Ru'aun. born from the ash of a god they say. She is incredibly strong, having healing magicks and the ability to bring those back from the dead as well as other abilities (mainly dimensional), Irene did not have a weapon. She can also change her form into a man but she rarely ever did this and it's said that she hated the form. After her disappearance (presumed death) which was 40 or so years after the fight with Shad. She was worshipped more commonly, which her worship later became widespread. Irene is worshipped as the god of medicine/health, the afterlife, agriculture and hope. She is associated with doves (because of her wings) and lavender, around churches and royalty/nobles homes, you will see statues of doves and fields of lavender. It's said that natural forming fields of lavender are places blessed by Irene. Although mainly worshipped in Ru'aun she is seen and heard all over the world.

Menphia the Fury: She grew up in Tu'la near the capital, one of the very few in Tu'la who was human. Menphia came from a well off noble family, she was a strong girl who could wield almost any close combat weapon. She became one of the princesses' guards at the age of 19. There was a rumor that Menphia and the princess were having an affair but it was never denied nor confirmed. She became a protector of Irene and later one of the Divine Warriors, she also had a pet tiger. Her magicks are very limited but they consist of strength and speed. Menphia used multiple different close combat weapons (swords, maces, battle axes, etc). She died during the fight with Shad to save Enki. She is worshipped mainly in Gal'ruk and Tu'la and usually by guards or soldiers. She is worshipped as the god of rage, strength, war, and courage. She is associated with tigers and fire. Her statues always have a tiger at her legs.

Shad the Destroyer: Not much is known about Shad at all, Enki himself destroyed practically everything that he had written about Shad. Them and Irene were close, the common conception was that they were lovers. Irene and Shad had a fight because he was a danger to mortals. Irene sealed Shad deep inside a mountain for 10 years, he later escaped and caused havoc. Although Irene and many of the other warriors had pushed her to their breaking point it was Shad himself who decided to be spiteful and become the Shadow Lord. Xavier was the first ever shadow knight. Their magicks consist of strength, telekinesis, and break dimension barriers. She can change their form much like Irene, to a woman, man, or a form of neither. He seems to enjoy this unlike Irene. Many depictions of Shad are different in gender because of this. Very few mortals worship him but she is seen as the god of deception, chaos, death, and tragedy. He is commonly associated with crows and lily of the valleys.

Enki the Keeper: Enki had many journals detailing both his and the other warriors lives yet he either burned most or hid them away, very few were actually found. He grew up in a home of warriors in Gal'ruk but despite this he became a scholar. He is known to have been in love with many, Menphia, Irene, Esmund's brother. Likely Xavier too. He was born without any magicks but he did know a bit of witchcraft. His abilities after getting a relic were; un-human observation, speed, and levitation. Enki barely fought but when he did he used an ink brush (much like Qiu Yongsi from Tianbao Fuyao lu). Enki died 5 or so years after the battle with Shad. He is worshipped in Gal'ruk and is a common figure head for literature. He is the god of; ink and paper, literature, language, and love. Enki is commonly associated with owls and snow.

Esmund the Protector: Much is known about him as he was the eldest son of one of the most well known historians, Ruthin Ro'meave. He grew up in Ru'aun, he became a guard and later became a Divine Warrior. Esmund was commonly known for his beauty that rivaled Irene's. He was deeply in love with Irene which caused a strain between Irene, Shad and Esmund. His younger brother was horrifically injured during a battle while under Shad's watch which caused Esmund to become even more resentful of Shad. Despite wanting to help defeat Shad he decided to stay behind and protect. He died 30 years before Irene's disappearance. He is worshipped in Ru'aun usually by Lords of villages seeking protection. He is the god of; protection, safety, loyalty, victory, and family. Esmund is associated with shields and jewlary.

Kul'zak the Wanderer: They grew up near the docks of Tu'la, they were a meif'wa. They helped with travel when ships docked on Tu'la. Kul'zak was the first Divine Warrior after Irene, and a nomad. They were a very good bard and a little mischievous. They were the oldest of the Divine Warriors and the one to have kept them all together. After the Divine Warriors split they traveled and spoke of legends for 10 years before dying. Unlike the other Divine Warriors they aren't worshipped in one place, they are worshipped as the god of; travel. merchants, alcohol and music. Kul'zak is associated with intoxication and the flute.

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