#it would fuck up the layout :')

[wooyoungisbaby]

he sippy.

[mazeyphaedra]

HELIO CHOSE HER, BUT SHE CHOSE CASSANDRA.

Traci Brimall, Vive, Vive // Mitski, Goodbye My Danish Sweetheart // Unknown // Katie Maria, God is made of hunger and I am made of dreams // Ally Beardsley, Fantasy High: Sophomore Year // Caravaggio, Judith Beheading Holofernes // @inkskinned, When I’m sad, I write goodbye letters to the people I care about. Once I’ve said goodbye to everyone, I can go. // Ally Beardsley, Fantasy High: Junior Year // Florence & The Machine, Girls Against God // Hozier & Allison Russell, Wildflower and Barley

[bhaal-battle-beer-bard]

Astarion x Tav

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request: for @aristenfromwarsaw

Fangtastic days of our lives

➹summary: a comforting day/evening in the life of Astarion and his love Aristen after post-game settling down, takes an unexpected turn as Astarion while enjoying his new found life and love, sees something of interest…

➹pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Tav (Aristen by @aristenfromwarsaw)

➹content/tags: fluff, comfort, romance, smuty flirting, fun, slice of life, little tiny bit of angst and guilt

➹word count: 5,036

➹cameos: @evander-jane Devana Lysander @alpydk Ragnar @goromimii @pinkberrytea (by order)

➹a/n: another belated birthday present for @aristenfromwarsaw  Thank you very much for all the great photoshoots you always did for me, just like that. Such things really fill my heart with joy. I hope you like it. Thank you for trusting me with your Tav Aristen. I take writing other OCs really serious, because an OC is very personal thing and it is way harder to get them in character. I used the infos/backstory you gave me once about Aristen for the best I could.

📜🪶📜🪶💙🎻🫧🌹🌸🌹🫧🎻💙🪶📜🪶📜

Fangtastic days of our lives

Teak, mahogany, oakwood, dried tobacco with the hidden essence of vanilla. From somewhere the sweetness of honey and roasted nutmeg.

These were impressions of antique wood, boiling kettles, clanging beer mugs and laughing voices that filled the Elfsong tavern.

It was like a honey-colored, subterranean, starless sea.

A sea of ​​people, scents, voices and music.

A sea of ​​life that would envelop the coming evening when the sun would have completely disappeared, making way for the aurora again after the starry night.

Astarion was acutely aware of his surroundings. Perception meant survival.

But not today…not anymore.

He could simply explore and enjoy his surroundings while he waited for his beloved:

Aristen the storm sorceress and former daughter of Bhaal. She was able to walk in the sun and as a vampire spawn he had to wait until the sun had made the rays that were fatal to him disappear.

That didn't matter to Astarion. He was used to the night.

But he never wanted to go back to that cold, lonely life.

The Sorceress, along with the other companions, had freed him from slavery once and for all. But it was she alone who had given him back the vision of his eyes, of his entire senses. Astarion could sit in the tavern and just be, taking in the surroundings of life.

No more looking for victims. No more fear. Never again.

The Elfsong Tavern was full of life and he was part of it.

So after hundreds of years, Astarion could finally taste life again. See it. Hearing it with his pointy ears and feeling and smelling it warmly with the scent of pumpkin, butterscotch and spicy beer.

A quite pretty bard with white freckly tattoos on her face and braided crimson hair beneath her Tiefling horns played the lyre on the Elfsong stage. Astarion noticed dagger-shaped earrings on her pointed ears. The Avernus fire of her origins blazed in her blue eyes as she sang:

“Empty kisses, shallow words,

Fiery passion only hurts

When the sorrow takes an oblivion hint

Will you cure and begone with the wind…”

Astarion continued to look around while the sadly whispering voice reached his elf ears.

“I hope someone sings a song like that for me too. Such expressions of love really manage to make me weak,” sighed a tall black-haired woman, whose face bore at least as many tales of adventure as freckles.

"Me too. But I really hope that the ballad has a happy ending,” replied a long-haired beauty at her table. The human woman's wavy, light hair framed a gentle face with captivating blue eyes.

“Oh you heard that? Oh no! ", the adventuress, ashamed, put her hands on her head with her side-braided hair and covered cringing with embarrassment one of the green eyes. "I should stop talking loudly to myself."

The other woman laughed a little and her wavy hair swayed on the shoulders of the long, light dress with floral embroidery: “It’s all good. I won’t tell anyone else.”

She winked briefly.

“But tell me…” she took her hands away from her face with the little different eyes, “…you’re not from Baldur’s Gate either, right? You also speak with a different accent than me.”

"Correct. I come from the East..."

“What did she say? Sêlune guide me?”

Astarion was distracted by an almost desperate voice that sounded at least as concentrated and angry as it was beer-soaked.

He saw a barbarian sitting at the next table, holding his beer mug almost too tightly.

The raised dark blonde hair did not distract from the piercings and black war paint, which Lae'zel would certainly have approved of.

“Okay, can I memorize this Sêlune prayer or not?” he muttered to himself and downed the beer in one gulp.

Astarion had seen him before and that evening he had stared at Shadowheart the whole time. Was the barbarian building up – or drinking up - the courage to speak to Shadowheart next time?

The vampire was distracted from the barbarian when a pale woman walked past his table accompanied by a brown-haired man. He noticed them because they both had scars on their faces. But no, that wasn't it at all. Something else drew his attention to them...they smelled somehow, almost reeked of...swamp? No magic.

That same hidden scent of feymagic that came from the black haired adventuress with the freckles.

The woman's pale face was friendly, almost cheerful. She enjoyed the music and the sad ballad. Did she know the feelings and sad love that the Tiefling woman sang about?

Astarion was all the more struck by the face of the dark-clothed man with the scarred hands who accompanied her: he was rigid and joyless and his eyes had an almost malicious shimmer. He didn't seem to suit her. He walked rigidly like an aristocrat or a trained soldier, or was he rigid because of the blade - that was clearly visible to the Rogue - that he wore under his clothes?

The man's gaze fell on the bard's dagger earrings. But not only the brown-haired human looked at the earrings, but also a white-skinned, tall elf who walked behind him. Astarion didn't know what was more noticeable: his large deadly sword, the long white hair, the black tattoos on his face, or...or the earrings in the shape of a dagger that hung from his ears.

He nodded almost imperceptibly to the bard and she returned his nod briefly.

Frowning, Astarion averted his gaze and looked around the taproom.

Many of the guests listened attentively to the ballad. Couples in love held each other tightly and some wiped a tear from their face.

“…in the dark of the night I see your tears

Rubies glisten full of pain

Rage and misery

Don’t get lost in brandy, bergamot and rosemary”

The ballad finished gently and the bard stood up.

"Thanks! And now for the bard duet!”

With a wave of her hand, she invited her partner onto the stage.

Wild white hair adorned the scarred drow face. It looked like survival for Astarion.

She could be young and old at the same time, that's how it was always with the elves. Young pretty faces and centuries behind them. Sorrow, suffering, joy. Everything was possible.

The narrow waist with the subsequent curved hips and thighs with short pants was adorned with a weapon belt with a sword and a flute.

The skilled hand whirled out a shiny silver flute and the duo began to play:

„Two bards do the trick, because bards do it better

Drow or Tiefling, it doesn’t matter

Shiny white hair, or wagging tail

Their persuasion will never fail“

They quickly changed the melancholic mood and the silver flute had a captivating sound, as if it were a homage to a goddess.

“One plays the flute, the other smashes lutes

Buy us a drink and we’ll tell you who is who“

A Tiefling whose rosé colored hair matched her white pink frilly clothing cheered enthusiastically to the tavern song.

Astarion heard her applaud with a giggling laugh. Cute little laughs with a sweet smile upon her light face.

It was that kind of sweet laugh that told the vampire how innocent, unspoiled, kind and naive the person was.

Yes, the delicate Tiefling woman was a sweet, innocent thing, Astarion could tell that with just a sideways glance of his red eyes. The sweet and naive kind of girl that immediately fell for him. Who he easily ensnared and seduced for Cazador. Or was she one of the people he would have avoided because they were so naive...innocent, undeserving of it? He would probably have avoided her if possible because such a sweet, lovely person didn't deserve to fall victim to the vampires.

Astarion closed his eyes briefly and grimaced at the emerging memories that he immediately wanted to repress.

Thanks to his beloved Aristen, he no longer had to do this.

He was free.

Cazador dead.

All of Baldur's Gate saved, saved from the Empire of the Netherbrain and the Mind Flayers.

Yes, thanks to the blonde adventuress whose fate was forever intertwined with his and all her other companions, he had escaped his fate as a slave. Their courage and their determination, with the help of the other fighters, allowed him to defeat Cazador.

But not only that, the storm sorceress had also given him love and patience. And the confidence to be better than Cazador. He didn't need blood-soaked, soul-eating power to be safe, to be worth anything.

Astarion would never have to hurt innocent people against his will again.

All thanks to her.

And yet Aristen did not consider herself to be good, nor to be lovable.

She loathed herself for her actions as a born Bhaalspawn, which she only dimly remembered. No one could hate her more than she hates herself.

And perhaps it was even worse for her, imagining every day what atrocities she had committed in the name of the God of Murder instead of knowing for sure.

She didn't see herself as a lovable hero, a savior. Astarion wished so much that she could see herself through his eyes just once. Then she would finally forgive herself.

The problem was that the sarcastic vampire had never said that to her and perhaps never would. There would always be something gnawing inside him, at his battered heart, that would prevent him from casually revealing his innermost, deepest feelings. What if he did lose her to someone else one day?  If it would not be an arrow or observer to steal her from him? How could he then pretend that his vain heart had not been destroyed for all eternity?

Darkness crossed Astarion's face at all the thoughts and he shook his head with his white curls to drive them away.

Once again he let his gaze wander over the audience, while his pointy elven ears only casually listened to the singing of the bards. It was only thanks to his beloved Aristen that he was able to recognize the diversity of the guests gathered. To be recognized again.

It had once been a faceless mass. At some point, after all the years of slavery under Cazador, the people in the taverns had become nothing more than a uniform mush to him. Victims, cattle like sheep, to his master. Criminals who hurt him and whom he hurt in return and they became victims of the vampire lord.

Dark, blank faces.

Without eyes, without soul. Just like Astarion himself had felt.

But after Aristen came into his life - with the craziest tentacle adventure of his life - everything had gradually changed.

First he recognized her blue eyes, then her face. The smile of her lips plagued by guilt and bloody ghosts of the past. The same smile as his own.

Then he saw all the faces, the people, their stories and lives again.

He saw the colors. The differences and the similarities. He heard the voices, the laughter, the music. He noticed the scents and smells again. Astarion saw joy and life again.

A scent that stood out from the rest of the tavern's smells suddenly tickled Astarion's nose.

Orchid drifted discreetly from the front door.

A slightly tickling shiver ran over the tips of his elf ears, while Astarion was already peering towards the door with large, round eyes.

Like the true epiphany she was, a blonde woman made her way through the elven song. Her appearance truly stood out from the rest of the tavern's audience:

Her delicately pinned hair and a ladylike, sweeping blue dress made her truly look like a lady of name and rank.

Astarion smiled as he looked at Aristen's appearance.

She always made an effort to look chic and beautiful, no matter what the circumstances. Like a true lady who belonged in a ballroom and not a tavern.

A ballroom, not a bhaalroom.

But Aristen loved all facets of life and also sat in the meadow under a tree in the forest with her fancy dress on.

If Astarion had his way, then very soon she would be pressed into the grass beneath him with the dress rumpled.

He chuckled dirtyly to himself as he couldn't help but think of that thought. And before he even thought about the first visit to his grave together, he shook his head and pushed it all away from his white curls.

"Darling..." Astarion stood up after Aristen made her way to him, having spotted him with a smile beaming with joy, "...you give me all sorts of ideas as always."

“What do you mean?” the high elf asked in surprise and blinked in confusion because she couldn’t follow him.

“Nevermind little love,” Astarion grinned mischievously and briefly kissed her delicate hand in greeting. He gently stroked Aristen's hand again as he slowly lowered it.

“The sun has already set enough for you to go out, Astarion,” his lover informed him. She would pick him up when it was safe for him outside.

"I've already run errands from a few merchants," Aristen spoke as the two left the tavern.

"Nice. Then we can now buy the rest together. Have you got everything so far?” asked Astarion.

The blonde nodded as they stepped outside.

Astarion sucked the air outside the elfsong into his lungs. Had breathing changed since he became a vampire? After all, he was undead.

Astarion didn't know. He couldn't remember, it had been too long.

In addition, the past no longer counted - smiling, he glanced furtively at Aristen who was carrying the basket with the purchases - only the present and the future counted.

“Yes, I did the grocery shopping that wasn’t of interest to you,” the blonde laughed and winked knowingly. “There was wonderful blossom honey, I couldn't resist,” enthused the sorceress, rolling her eyes heavenly at the thought of it and licking her lips in anticipation of the taste of the honey.

“Then I can taste it from your lips and tongue,” Astarion whispered seductively.

"What?"

“Oh, nothing…” the pale elf just grinned again.

His pointed ears were suddenly tickled by the brush of her lips as she leaned in very close to him.

“I heard you very well, my dear,” she whispered to him, her blue eyes sparkling meaningfully at him after she leaned back and gave him a knowing smile.

The vampire laughed. It was a serious laugh. It went from its sonorous, seductive, dirty murmur to a deep rumble before dying out in a high-pitched spike.

“I saw such a beautiful pair of earrings in the window at the Glitter Gala,” sighed Aristen languidly after she continued the story.

“So why didn’t you buy it, darling?”

Aristen shook her head: “Because it’s not necessary. I prefer to save our money for important things. After all, magical artifacts are expensive and the most important thing is that we find something that makes you immune to the sun.”

Yes, that was the ambition and current mission of Aristen and Astarion: to find a way for the vampire spawn to walk in the sun again.

Their friends also kept their ears and eyes open.

Gale read every book that might contain useful information.

Shadowheart, as well as Lae'zel on her travels through the astral planes, always sent them messages when they heard about mysterious artifacts.

And Halsin and Jaheira also reached out to all their acquaintances from near and far.

"If you hadn't used so much of our gold to rebuild the city and help its people, then you could afford any jewelry you wanted," Astarion nudged her with his shoulder and winked knowingly. The slightly accusatory tone was just an act.

“You know I wanted to try to somehow make amends for my actions when I was under Bhaal's control. This will never work, I know that. I can't bring back the people I killed. But I can at least try to help those left behind. It's too little. It’s no consolation…but at least it’s something.”

There was sadness in the blonde's voice. The look in her blue eyes was sincere before they slid slightly to the ground.

Astarion didn't like that, so he decided to cover up the whole thing: "I don't know what you're doing with this penance and compensation anyway."

He casually folded his arms behind his head and sounded as indifferent as he could.

“But…” he grinned playfully at the blonde Sorceress, “we could visit The Counting House again with Minsc. Then we have enough money to play benefactors and buy jewelry and beautiful clothes.”

Aristen raised an eyebrow with an amused grin: "You want to volunteer to do something with Minsc, really?"

“Now that you mention it…argh…better not. You may find him amusing, but he's always bursting in to chatter about his hamster at the most inopportune times. The guard almost caught me picking the lock of the Tabernacle when he suddenly stood loudly behind me, screaming my name and his hug almost broke every bone in my body.”

“What did you want at the Stormshore Tabernacle outside of opening hours?” Aristen asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing!” Astarion quickly dismissed the topic. Too fast.

“What’s next on the list for today?”

“We really have to go to the Devil's Fee. It has finally opened since the devastating battle against the Netherbrain and the reprocessing. If there are special artifacts or information about them anywhere, it’s there!”

Astarion nodded eagerly and the two elves walked quickly through the streets of Baldur's Gate.

"Oh no! No no no!” Helsik shouted from afar as her eyes saw Aristen.

The Sorceress blinked in confusion at the violent reaction and she looked around to see if anyone else was behind her, as the shopkeeper thought she might be.

“Not you!”

"I? But…"

“Nothing but!” Helsik cut her off. “After last time, I already told you that it was too hot to be seen with you and that the store was off limits for now. After the fuss you caused with your little friend and the black-haired fuzzy head.”

Astarion grinned briefly. He knew exactly who the saleswoman was talking about. After all, they had learned of Bhaal's daughter's past and how she had been involved in the Grand Design.

“I have new business partners, so I don’t need loud attention, after all, hell operates quietly.”

“We don’t want to cause any problems, I swear!”

The vampire let his eyes wander over the lavish and devilishly mysterious display while Aristen soothed Helsik.

“We just want to buy an artifact or information. Nothing improper, nothing complicated, nothing dangerous. Just good old Mammon.”

“Child, you will never have as much gold as I want from you so that I can burn my fingers again because of you.”

"Are you sure? I'll pay any price...whether it's gold or otherwise. We're just looking for a way to break the vampire curse of being vulnerable to the sun. Please."

Helsik laughed briefly, compassionately, not maliciously: “Deary, at the Devil’s Fee we don’t break curses, it’s more about the other way. That should be clear to you from the name.”

“My Love…” Astarion slowly tore his eyes away from the display cases and stood next to Aristen again, “…let me talk to her. I think I can convince them better with less…emotional involvement based on old stories.”

“Are you sure?” Aristen asked, unconvinced.

“Of course, baby…” he was already pushed the Sorceress toward the exit, “…you go do the other errands in the meantime and leave this to me.”

Aristen left the devilish business and made her way to the large square of the lower city wall. She visited the arms dealers and her thoughts continued to dwell on the fact that if even devils couldn't find a way to free Astarion from his curse, who would?

She would never give up hope. Anyway, Helsik was probably right: if it was about help, then hell wouldn't be a good negotiating partner.

Maybe they should trust in nature, magic and clerics. The gods may not have heard Astarion then, but perhaps they could now request divine intervention?

The vampire could walk in the light of the Moon Maiden, perhaps Dame Aylin and Shadowheart could ask even more of Sêlune. Maybe she could expand her moonlight.

Perhaps…

“STOP IMMEDIATELY!”

Aristen was snapped out of her thoughts and the blacksmith who was stationed across from Sorcerous Sundries just handed her back Astarion's freshly sharpened dagger.

“COME BACK IMMEDIATELY!”

From the direction of the Devil's fee came rumbling, loud voices and, above all, lightning and sparks.

“Stop the criminal scum!” shouted a city guard. “Subject, let him stand still!”

“Where for?”

“That way!”

“Or rather there?”

“I thought I saw something in that direction…”

“Then I here, you there,” the steel armored guards rumbled.

The clatter of steel armor slowly faded from the blonde Sorceress's ears, but a perfume that differed from her own scent of orchid and rose reached her nose.

Aristen smelled cherries, musk, palmarosa, black pepper and…

“Does this belong to you, little mouse?”

…sulfur.

Raphael's slightly tanned complexion stood before her. His brown hair was done to perfection with meticulous work, as were his clothes. Large, sparkling brown eyes regarded her, both sublime and mischievous.

The devil in human disguise had the white-haired vampire in tow, holding him by the collar like a naughty schoolboy.

"Raphael..."

“So you still know my name. Ah…very good. Tell the wizard of yours that too. Hopefully he’s still looking for my crown?”

Aristen nodded: “We defeat the brain. The crown will then be at your disposal. That’s how it was settled.”

“Excuse me…” the vampire groused

The devil released Astarion, who grumbled and moved his shoulders.

“Stealing from a shop that has connections straight to hell, very very naughty.”

As was his style, Raphael moved his hands theatrically while his voice whispered mellifluously. The reprimand was more than just played as amusing.

“Anyway, you were there in vain. There is nothing to buy there that could solve the vampire's little “problem”. Otherwise they would all be walking around here freely in the sunlight. Or not?”

The devil made a sweeping gesture and looked around ostentatiously before laughing.

“I'll talk to Helsik and smooth things over, after all you don't sleep well in unmade beds like in clover. But tell your magician that it is my crown. When he finds it, he has agreed to hand it over to me immediately. Not to Mystra and he certainly shouldn’t get the foolish idea of ​​using it himself.”

“He is not my magician,” Aristen clarified briefly, “Gale belongs to no one but himself. Mystra also has nothing to command him.”

“Does he see it that way too? Or does he like to be walked on a leash? He always just does what others tell him. After all, his own decisions are the stupidest I've ever seen...and I've literally seen it all."

“You mean as stupid as wanting to rule the crown of Karsus?”

“Haha…careful, little mouse,” laughed Raphael. “Just make sure I get the crown as quickly as possible.”

“When Gale finds it, you get the crown. That was the deal. We stick to that. But you'll have to be patient. It wasn't intended that the crown and the stones would be lost again, but it was hard to prevent it when the Netherbrain fell into the sea during the fight."

“I'm surprised you're so relaxed about this. You can't put me on a leash as easily as you can put the vampire spawn on a leash. Or was it rather the other way around and you Astarion put the former Bhaalspawn on a docile short leash?”

Mischief sparkled in the brown eyes of the human-shaped Cambion. There was a subtle, biting, malicious provocation in his words, which he spoke with a sonorous purr, as always.

Astarion's face contorted a little and the vampire barely suppressed a roll of his ruby-colored eyes. For a moment he seemed like a disgruntled cat.

"I think I liked you better when you just rhymed all the time," Astarion replied sassy.

Raphael laughed briefly, unimpressed: “Whatever. Less dawdling and making long fingers, but more diving for the crown,” reprimanded the devil with a raised eyebrow.

The devil wrinkled his nose slightly at the vampire spawn before turning back to Aristen and giving her his full attention.

“By the way, greetings from your fiery friend Karlach and her rapier-wielding colleague Wyll Ravengard.”

“Why are you ordering greetings from Karlach and Wyll? Have you met them?”

“Well, those two made themselves quite a name all around Avernus,” Raphael smiled in his smug way, “furthermore, I greatly welcome their actions against Zariel’s forces.”

He made one of his swinging hand movements with his manicured fingers: “I would like to invite you all to my House of Hope to linger, relax and chat. So you can catch up. You know, the Crown of Karsus is the key that grants you access. And until that happens…fare thee well, little mouse. I hope I will see you soon, knocking on the door of my house.”

As was his style, Raphael bowed expansively and his scent of leather, cedar, lily, rose, oud, vanilla and sandalwood disappeared into a swirl of sparks and sulphur.

“He hasn’t forgotten his flair for great performances. I don't know whether I should admire it or whether he's starting to get on my nerves with it," Astarion sighed briefly before straightening his shoulders and straightening his doublet with a quick tug.

"Anyways..." the vampire turned to another topic, "...I think it would be a good idea if we get out of the immediate area while the city guards are wandering around here."

The elf touched Aristen's elbow to encourage her to leave.

“What did you want to take from the store anyway, in the first place?” Aristen wanted to know from Astarion, curious and skeptical.

“Well…” he started to press and scratched the back of his white curls, “…I saw something…”

"And what was so terribly interesting that you would risk to be arrested by the Flaming Fist?"

“Well...it reminded me of you...and...I thought you should have it. But Helsik is really a cutthroat bitch with exorbitant prices.”

Aristen smiled good-naturedly: “Oh Astarion…”

“However…here…”

The vampire held out a white silk scarf to the storm sorceress.

Aristen's eyes widened. You could see from the shimmer and the way the fabric fell that it wasn't just silk that was woven there. It was definitely the weave itself and more that was at work there. Depending on how it fell and how you moved it, a golden blue shimmered.

“The scarf reminded me of the one you told me about. You know, the scarf with your name on it that you were found wearing as a baby in the Bhaal Temple. It’s one of the few memories you have left.”

The vampire took out a borealis blue thread from his pocket and began to embroider “Aristen” into the scarf.

“I wanted you to have something that you could never lose, that could never be destroyed, that had your name on it. Because if something ever happened again that made you forget...that made you forget yourself, at least you would always have your name with you. Then you know that you are Aristen. Not the daughter of the murder god. Not the chosen one of Bhaal. No Bhaalspawn. Just you. You are Aristen.”

The vampire began to embroider an “&” sign into the scarf.

“And well…” Astarion began to shuffle uncomfortably again and focused entirely on his work so that he didn’t have to look his lover in the eyes, “…if you ever forget something again, then you’ll know that we belong together. I don't want you to ever forget me. And so you also always carry my name with you.”

The vampire finished his work and the white scarf now embroidered with new memories read: "Aristen & Astarion"

“There is nothing in the world that would ever make me forget you, Astarion,” the high elf spoke softly.

She closed the distance between the two of them and kissed Astarion. The elf slowly closed his eyes as their lips met. His cool, hers warm. He felt her breathing life into him as they kissed.

"Thank you so much," the blonde said after they pulled away from each other, "you can't imagine how much this means to me. I love you, Astarion."

Aristen held the silky, white and blue scarf in her hands, stroked the pale elf's blue embroidery and smiled. "I think this used to be the color of your eyes too."

She smiled softly, as soft as the silky fabric of the scarf felt on her soft hands. Hands too soft for the crimes they had probably committed earlier in the name of Bhaal. In a previous life.

Aristen raised her eyes, which were also blue, and caught Astarion by surprise. Speechless.

That rarely happened.

Very rarely did the vampire find himself without words.

“Ah, I…” he took a breath to say something, but he lacked a suitable response, so he could only hold his breath, taken aback.

The gentle look in his lover's eyes and her words had triggered something in Astarion that he still couldn't handle: affection, sincere love.

Towards him and in his own heart.

The white-haired vampire exhaled and smiled just as gently at his beloved Aristen.

He reached out his cool hand to her and placed it against her rosy cheek. The blonde nestled herself a little in the vampire's hand and her gaze lingered lovingly in Astarion's now ruby-colored eyes.

“You never stop surprising me,” his whispering voice sounded sincere and just as genuine was the smile he continued to give her.

It was a smile that acknowledged how happy he was, partly surprised, partly just realizing that he wasn't really surprised anymore. And perhaps that was what surprised Astarion the most.

It was a day like any other.

A day like any other.

One day in the rest of their life.

Their life together.

And it was beautiful.

And he would never want it any other way.

📜🪶📜🪶💙🎻🫧🌹🌸🌹🫧🎻💙🪶📜🪶📜

➹a/n: i just gave my own Tav Saulus a little cameo guest appearance  😉 in the style of AU I also inserted aristenfromwarsaws other OC Devana, like a little, what are all the other tavs doing when not being the main character

the great Tavs of my lovely mutuals also did a tiny cameo:

Nala Hartwick of @evander-jane

Thomas Rosewood and Nana of @alpydk

Lovely Vierith of @goromimii jamming with my Saulus, best bardic duo

Mavka of @pinkberrytea

I hope I did the slice of life good justice and you all could taste, feel, smell, hear the life through all the description of scents, etc.

[puppyeared]

I CANT USE CSS ON ARTFIGHT...............

[literallyneurodivergentandaminor]

KARAOKE NIGHT WITH @deathbars what are they singing?!??

sketches and seperated non-transparent trolls under cut!

[catboyolli]

Olli moments from Blind Channel: DOOMSDAY DIARIES VOL. 1

[shhh-secret-time]

To be honest, stardew valley has me in such a chokehold. It always has, even before the 1.6.

In such a way that my brain wants to smash my hyperfixation into it. So late at night I'll be awake thinking of this stardew/south park mashup.

Call that bad boy Star Park AU.

But no brain! Bad! We already have too much going on! You have a Secret Soulmate AU. Fantasy AU, A Cowboy AU story staring Kenny that's still in the outline phase, and these one shots!

(Look at the tags to watch me descent into madness)

[pictures-of-yxl]

[lifeintheworldtocome]

how do i draw a bathroom without making it look like the most fukcing weird minimalist instagram ass bathroom ive ever seen

[xumoonhao]

my friends!!! which arrows for the scroll bars do you prefer? i think both are fine but do u like the solid or non solid ones...please do tell me :3

[dexaroth]

lovely palettes. always. even just by scribbling random color spots on him outside of his normal head markings to test it out

it also works fine with his current markings

i also recolored that last one with his current blue palette (altered midtones though) and instantly my brain goes OOH saturated blue colors better. you love blue. blue so good, remember? BLUEE!!!

aeugh. if i up the saturation of the monochrome it looks a lot like the style of a past layout there. which works as well!.. but when i compare daron's blue palette and this monochrome one its like the mono loses all its charm even though i know i love that palette too.. its like the more saturated palette is eye candy and i cant get enough of it to the point everything else looks worse by comparison if theyre not vibrant. cmon man. let me enjoy different things

[nauticrowe]

I started playing bramble

[waywardsalt]

so. i've had an idea for a warrior cats fanfiction story, and have spent the last few years hammering out characters, the clans, how they work, the story... a whole lot of stuff. i've tried writing it before, and right now i don't have a current draft of early chapters, but I did recently write out a scene from much later in the story, and i'm pretty happy with it, soooo... here! a warrior cats fic scene i wrote in like an hour a week ago

By the time she led ShadeClan to the Gathering site, Emberstar felt her anxieties lessen. Her foreleg ached from the effort of the journey, but she kept her head high. Beside her, Acornfall glanced back at their clan, then nodded over to Emberstar. He led the clan down into the Gathering hollow, and Emberstar padded over to the slope up to the leader’s perch. PineClan and CliffClan cats were already quietly milling about in the hollow, and up on the overhang she could see Lakestar and Wolfstar waiting. There was no MoorClan scent among the gathered cats.

              Emberstar made her way up the slope she’d seen Gorsestar and Froststar before her traverse. It was a thin path, slowly becoming steeper and steeper as she slunk closer to the overhang, finally reaching the steep, gravelly slope that led up to the leaders’ perch. Down at the base of the cliff, she could see Acornfall joining the other deputies with a polite nod of his head, and Troutfoot was carefully weaving her way through the crowd to meet with the other healers. Emberstar twitched her whiskers when Lakestar and Wolfstar noticed her. She crouched and tensed her back legs and leapt up the slope.

              It wasn’t enough to reach the top, but she reached out with her forepaw and sunk her claws into the loose gravel and dug her back paws into the ground to keep from slithering back down. She slowly inched forward, moving a kittenstep at a time, but she kept her eyes fixed on the other leaders, more determined than ashamed of herself. Emberstar forced herself up the slope, but her heart skipped a beat when the gravel under her paw proved too loose to get a good enough grip- so close to the top, too. What a shame she had no other forepaw to lash out and find a grip with.

              Emberstar felt herself begin to slide back down the slope, but a pair of jaws grasped her by the scruff and hoisted her up onto the overhang. She clawed at the grass and stumbled a step when let go and turned to meet Wolfstar’s amused gaze. “Careful there, three-paw,” the CliffClan leader gruffly purred. “It’s bad luck to fall at your first Gathering as leader.” She brushed past Emberstar to sit back down next to Lakestar.

              With a huff, Emberstar followed her with a shake of her pelt. “I appreciate your help, but I would have been fine on my own. I suppose I owe you now?”

              Wolfstar’s whiskers twitched. “Are you saying ShadeClan is now in CliffClan’s debt?”

              The young leaders stared at each other, then broke out into amused purrs. Lakestar rolled her eyes and wrapped her tail around her paws. “So, you are ShadeClan’s leader now, Emberstar? Or is it still Emberblaze?”

              “It is Emberstar now. I visited the Moon Cavern for my lives only a few sunrises ago.”

              “May StarClan light your path as leader, then.” Lakestar stiffly dipped her head. Despite the brusque words, there was genuine respect in her pale eyes.

              Wolfstar’s own eyes were still bright with humor. “You’ll be great, I know it. What happened to Froststar, then?”

              Emberstar narrowed her eyes and turned her gaze to the gathered cats. “I’ll explain that once the Gathering begins. MoorClan is late tonight.” She surveyed the crowd of cats, peering straight down at the huddled healers. Sitting with her back to her PineClan clanmates, Flarelight was sitting close to Troutfrost. After a moment, she gazed up at the overhang, and her eyes met Emberstar’s. Her eyes grew wide and she stared at her littermate for a long moment until another healer got her attention. Then, as if she’d seen nothing, Flarelight flicked her tail and joined the conversation. Her twitching tail-tip was the only hint that she was distracted. Emberstar blinked. She’d become leader so recently that not even the other healers knew, much less the other clans’ warriors. In the crowd of CliffClan cats, she spotted Sunscorch, sitting with his fur brushing Moonwhisper’s, his eyes wide and his body stiff while he stared at his sister up on the overhang.

              Poor Sunscorch, so softhearted under those honed claws and strong limbs- he was likely to take the news of Froststar’s death the hardest. Emberstar held his gaze, blinked slowly, and turned her head to the sky. The moon was nearly overhead, and still MoorClan was absent.

              “You ought to start the Gathering now,” Wolfstar growled to Lakestar. “It’s newleaf, after all, and if MoorClan’s late then they’re late.”

              “We should wait,” Emberstar sharply mewed. “This is my first Gathering as leader, so it would be disrespectful to me as well as MoorClan if we begin without them. It may anger StarClan as well,” she finished in a murmur, flicking her tail-tip up at the sky. Wolfstar just bushed out her stormy gray fur and huffed.

              Lakestar gazed up at the sky. Emberstar looked over at her. For so long, as an apprentice, as a warrior, as the deputy, she’d never dared to be so close to the cold PineClan leader. But now, she was barely a tail-length from the sleek silver tabby, and they sat as equals in standing. Lakestar was likely at less than nine lives and Emberstar was without a right foreleg, but they were equals nonetheless.

              She was knocked from her thoughts by Wolfstar headbutting her. The larger cat nearly shoved her off-balance. “Glad to see that we’re both finally up here. I was waiting to see when you’d catch up, three-paw.”

              Emberstar licked Wolfstar’s ear. “You know I must take things slower than you.”

              “Who’d you pick as deputy?” Wolfstar leaned over the edge to inspect the group of deputies. “Hm- Acornfall?”

              “He’s a good warrior. Older than me by four seasons, so I trust his advice and his skill.”

              “I thought you would have picked Lavenderflash. Or maybe Darknose, you two always seemed close.”

              Emberstar gazed down at Lavenderflash, spotting the pure-black molly quickly- she was almost certain there was obvious fondness in her eyes as she looked at her former apprentice. “Lavenderflash is… young and still training her first apprentice. She is a good, loyal warrior, but not fit to be deputy or eventual leader in my mind. And Darknose…” The tom was sitting at the edge of the crowd, alone. “He is a possibility, but he still mourns his brother even all these moons later, so I don’t know if he would be the best choice.”

              Wolfstar made a sniff of approval, then her gaze snapped to the far hill. A yowl rang out, and the three leaders pricked their ears and the cats in the hollow turned to see MoorClan finally arrive, led by Applestar. Emberstar sat stiffly until she spotted Glowflame in the crowd, side-by-side with Orangeclaw. He joined the cats in the hollow with his clan while Applestar broke off to climb up to the overhang, and he seemed to murmur something to Orangeclaw before she angled her ears up at Emberstar. Glowflame looked up and spotted her, and his jaw dropped open. Emberstar couldn’t help but let out a purr of affection for her brother as he gaped in amazement at her.

              Applestar greeted the other leaders when he finally joined them, nodding briefly at Emberstar, and hurriedly sat down next to Lakestar, his mottled fur standing up along his spine. The leaders gave the cats in the hollow a few moments to settle down. In that time, Emberstar saw her littermates make their ways through the crowd towards each other. By the time Lakestar threw back her head and yowled to signify the beginning of the Gathering, Flarelight, Sunscorch, and Glowflame sat huddled together with their eyes trained on their sister. Emberstar met their gazes for just a heartbeat and felt the final icicles of her anxiety melt away.

She then turned her head to watch Lakestar as she began to announce her clan’s news for the moon, and reminded herself of what she had to announce when it was her turn. She was ShadeClan’s leader, now. StarClan had approved of her. Emberstar lifted her chin and, with a deep breath, finally settled into her place at the head of her clan.

[martyrbat]

favorite things - batman: legends of the dark knight #79

[ID: The cover for the above mentioned comic. In it, Batman is framed to be in the center of a wreath as he screams in agony. Surrounding him is fire. Following it is the subtitle page where we see the story's name (Favorite Things) and the creative team that created the story. It's shown with a peek of Gotham's horizon; where snow is elegantly falling in front of towering golden skyscrapers and tall, blue buildings. It settles on the rooftops of the last layer of the city, which consists of older buildings and water towers. A single gargoyle stretches into the panel in front of them all. END ID]

entire comic with ID below cut!

We fall with the snow, bearing witness to several vertical panels of random Gothamites that are outside on this frigid night. An older man clenches his newspaper in shock. A young couple drops the toys they just bought in fright, staring at an approaching golden light. In an alleyway, we see a cat jumping to a new trash lid to get away from what disturbed its rest – a peek of the corrupt far in the background. A young child with their mother points excitedly as their mother is still turnt away.

Finally, we see the cause for such reactions – the speeding, iconically sculpted car that's swerving between traffic effortlessly: the Batmobile!

Bruce Wayne, dressed as Batman, speaks into the extended microphone that's built into the car. He asks, “How's the party, Alfred? Anyone ask why I disappeared?” Alfred Pennyworth is shown talking into a revolving phone, smiling with slight amusement as well-dressed people dance and socialize joyfully in the background. Alfred reports back, “I told them you had urgent business upstairs, Master Bruce.” Bruce asks, “blonde or brunette?” Alfred answers, “Blonde, sir – I gather ‘gentlemen’ prefer them.”

However Bruce is unable to keep his own masquerade, his facade falling instantly. He rhetorically questions, “How could this happen, Alfred? I can't believe it.” Alfred gazes at an overhead window, the glass still shattered from an earlier event. He bon mots, “I'm afraid burglary is not an uncommon problem in Gotham City, Master Bruce. Even with our security. Perhaps we should invest in a large dog with a taste for the criminal classes.” Bruce remains unamused as he presses down even more on the gas pedal. He argues, “This is no joking matter. You know what they took. And you know why I have to get it back.”

He eventually enters a club just to immediately intimidate the party-goers. Underneath the sharp eye of the pink neon lights and glistening disco ball, he threatens, “I've already been to several clubs in Gotham tonight – you may have heard the ambulances. Save yourself some grief. Hand over Eddie Mulligan.” The crowd stares on until Eddie pops out! He announces, “Hi, Bats! Lookin' for me, big guy?”

Batman quips back, “Let's step into your office, Mulligan!” while throwing him through the door for the filthy restroom. He snarls at the two men still at the urinal to leave now as Eddie pleads for them to not leave him with Batman. They leave anyways as Batman yanks Eddie into a dirty stall.

Batman holds him by the collar and his head, forcing his head to hover over a toilet that has surely broken multiple sanitation regulations. He warns, “Talk to me, Eddie! Half of Gotham’s low lives come to you to celebrate a score. I’m after a gang who specialize in robbing big houses. Fill in the blanks or you and that drug store in your jacket are down the toilet.” Eddie swears, “I don’t know nothin', man. On my mother’s life–”

Batman calls out his lie as he shoves his head into the toilet’s bowl. “Your mother died when you were four, Mulligan – try again!” He lifts Eddie’s head, who still insists that he doesn’t know anything. Deciding the waste of time isn’t worth losing the convict’s trail; the Dark Knight storms out of the restroom, leaving the now dirty man on the even dirtier floor as he still murmurs his swears that he doesn’t know who's to blame for the robberies.

Fire blazes around a black bat emblem. We pull from it, revealing the incendiary weapon set to destroy a museum. Police Captain Jim Gordon murmurs, “Madness. Fire-bombing a museum… to call attention to this.” He asks if there's any witnesses to the accompanying cop. He answers, “A woman thought she saw a couple of Joy Boys running away from the blast.”

Gordon turns from the roaring flames and questions, “Joy Boys?” The cop explains, “Weird kid gang, Captain… Crazy about the Joker. Like to show how they hate the Batman, pullin' stunts like this. Or maybe they’re just celebratin' the season. Christmas comin' an' all…” Gordon mutters, “Just when I thought this place couldn’t get any sicker. Madness.”

Snow continues to fall outside a building, glowing signs advertising an adult-only cabaret named ‘Eye Spy’ and the promise of a live stage show inside. A middle-aged blind woman is shown in a brown, thin jacket over a semi-sheer cover that's attached to her short, pink dress. She climbs into a taxi's backseat as the driver teases, “Nice flowers, Tabitha. Got a secret admirer?” She laughs at her friend and tells him, “Hahaha! Not for a long time, Arnie. These're from the Batman. Had them delivered after my show.” He recoils at the revelation! “He's real?! What's he after?” She coyly smiles and dips her nose to the bouquet of red roses. She reminds him, “I got no eyes but I got good ears, Arnie. Batman wants to know what I've heard about these organized break-ins at all the city's plush mansions.” Arnie scoffs, “Typical. Superheroes always look out for the rich g–”

The start of his unimpressed rant is interrupted by a Joy Boy slamming his hand against the window! He and the rest of the Joy Boys have a mask on of the Joker's grinning face and purple jacket with green pants to mimic the villain's suit. He demands for Arnie to get out of the car as more of the posse circle the car. Arnie flees, leaving Tabitha to the mercy of the gang! She calls for him before suddenly being jerked out of the vehicle! She asks in a panic, “Who are you? What have you done to Arnie?” The leader of the gang speaks, “Good evening, madame. I can’t help noticing you’re blind. Never mind, my dear –”. One of the men holding her suddenly punches her, causing her to collapse! The man continues, “there are some things in life it’s best not to see.”

Batman drops down promptly, sending the abusers down into the snow as he lands on them! He growls, “And one has just dropped in on you. Joy Boys… Your choice of role models stinks!” He decks another member as Tabitha asks repeatedly what’s happening. The leader taunts, “You won’t catch me, Bat-slime! I’ve got the fastest legs in Gotham City!” Batman speaks into a hidden voice commander and calls for the Batmobile before muttering the three magic words: finish the job!

The criminal is caught in the glaring headlights of the Batmobile before it automatically drives! The man lets out a blood curdling scream. Batman reassures Tabitha as he helps her up from the snow, “Scared senseless more than hurt. The car caught him at a glancing angle. Let's see if we can salvage any of your flowers.” He cordially keeps an arm wrapped around her upper back and tucks a red rose gently in her blonde hair. “There's one. Pretty as a picture.” She looks up, revealing her bruising eye. She asks, “D-do I really still look pretty, Batman? After all these years?” He smiles down at her. “More than pretty, Tabitha. You look beautiful…” He starts guiding her away from the scene of the attack as he softly prompts her to tell him what she knows about the break-ins.

Afterwards, Bruce is back in the Batmobile as he reports back, “I've got a name, Alfred. Not much else. The outfit's called ‘the Chessmen’. Their leader calls himself ‘King’, apparently.” Alfred comments, “Really? A bit obvious, wouldn't you say, sir?” Bruce snaps, “Everything about them is obvious… except where they are now, dammit!”

Alfred continues ironing Bruce's cape in the Batcave as he calmly notes, “You sound a little erratic, Master Bruce. Might I inquire when you last slept?” He dismisses his surrogate father's concern, promising, “I had a nap, old friend. I feel fine.” But Alfred presses, “Tell the truth and shame the devil!” Finally, Bruce reluctantly confesses, “Two or three days ago. You know I can't sleep, Alfred. Not 'til I get it back.”

He swings onto the roof of GCPD headquarters, where Jim Gordon is already waiting for him next to the Bat-Signal. Gordon informs, “We got an anonymous call. A direct lead to the gang who robbed half the town's mansions.” Batman exclaims, “The Chessmen! Where–?” Gordon sighs. “It's gotten… Complicated. The chief saw headlines. Insisted on a swat team. They messed up. What should have been a simple raid has ended as a hostage situation – Dammit! If he'd left it to my men or you…” Batman at once leaps off the building, having all the information he needs. His cape flares out as he vows, “Leave it to me now, Jim.”

At the scene, we see the SWAT team waiting outside in utility body armour and holding assault rifles. The chief speaks into a megaphone, “Listen up, Chessmen! This is Chief Yeats! Release my two officers and we can negotiate a deal!” The leader of the Chessmen, King, is standing in the window with a handgun pointed at a cop's head. He has the design of the king chess piece tattooed on his forehead and a purple mohawk. He shouts back, “No deals, pig! Take one more step and I blow a hole in this babe's head! I mean it, Yeats! We already wasted her partner!” The second cop lays dead at his feet.

One of the Chessmen with a rook tattoo apprehensively expresses, “This is too much, King. I thought we said no one was gonna get hurt.” King demands, “Shut up, Rook! Do what I say or we're dead men!" A voice from above booms, “You're worse than that – You're mine!” Suddenly Batman drops down while throwing a smoke bomb! He moves in stealth, avoiding the blind, erratic shooting from the panicked men that's trying to kill him and knocking them all unconscious as they scream, “He's on his own–!” “Rush him!” “Can't see him! Where'd he go?” “Over there!” “Blow his head off, Bishop!” He cries out, “He's moving too fast! Like an animal! A damn ani– ungh!” The Caped Crusader takes him down.

The smoke starts to clear, revealing that Batman is the only other man standing as King holds the hostage in front of him. He warns, “Stay back, Batman! We just wanted to rip off some rich guys! Give ourselves a little Christmas present! We didn’t want anyone to get hurt!” Batman growls, “Tell that to the officer down,” as he opens a small department on his belt and clicks a mysterious button.

Suddenly, screeching fills the air before a frenzy of bats burst into the building! King releases the hostage as he immediately gets swarmed by the bats. He screams, “Get them off me! I can’t stand– AAAA! Please! For the love of god! Get them off me!” The bats eventually flee, leaving King on his knees and the reveal that Batman and the hostage are nowhere to be found. He stammers out for his already defeated backup. “Ch-Chessmen? Where are you, Chessmen? K-King under attack.”

Batman suddenly appears, making the obvious pun in his triumphant, “Checkmate, King!” He continues to be unfunny as he shouts, “Game over!" and punches the man, knocking him back on the ground. Batman stands towering over the defeated criminal as he finally gets to demand, “I'm out of patience, King. The loot. Where is it stashed? Talk.”

The bellicostic police chief leads the SWAT men up to where the hostage situation was taking place, warning them to be very careful. They finally reach the floor and burst through the door, announcing, “Police! Freeze!” But to their dismay, they see the five Chessmen tied up on the floor as King hangs upside down above them. Chief Yeats yells, “The damn bat! That damn bat beat us again.”

One of the SWAT officers points out a note attached to King. It reads: ‘Act like a police chief, not a publicity hound, Yeats… or I'll have to act. I won't always have more urgent business like tonight. B.’ — The chief warns the men, “You didn't see this… Get me? But… uh… tell any news teams to throw focus on… uh… the heroic officer-hostages… Hey… It's the holidays, right?”

We join a single father sitting in a squalid apartment with his two little boys. The children sit on the floor in front of a plugged in space heater as they watch a small television that’s sitting on top of a cardboard box. A clothesline hangs over their head as the despondent man sits in front of the window, somberly waiting for the Dark Knight's arrival. Without turning, he addresses Batman. “I knew you’d come. I’ve been waiting here for two days. Thank god it’s over.” The children turn with a shout, pointing at Batman before running to be held by their father.

Batman asks, “You’ve been holding stolen goods. Where are they?” The man answers, “I already gave them back, Batman. Honest.” Batman queries, “You gave them back?” The father bows his head as he confesses, “Yeah. I was paid to stash them until the heat cooled off. But… I couldn’t keep those things. They didn’t belong to me. Don’t throw me in jail, Batman. It was me who tipped off the cops. It was me who told Gordon where they could find the Chessmen.”

Batman gently questions, “Any particular reason?” as the man starts to weep. “I'm not a thief, Batman. I just needed some money to feed my kids. Please, Batman! Please don't throw me in jail! The kids need me, Batman! Little boys shouldn't be left on their own.” The children start to cry and stare up at the Dark Knight as he looks at the cordolium scene. He agrees, “Okay. Just don't do it again.” And with a swoosh of his cape, he's out the door. The father looks up in shock at his agreement but the only evidence of Batman's presence being a roll of hundred dollar bills that's now sitting on top of the table.

At the Wayne Manor, we're in a child's bedroom. Dolls are perched serenely upon a chair. A toy house that'll never become a home lays next to a small rocking horse who's riding days are long gone. In the center of the room is a circular train track, where Bruce Wayne sits in thought. Still half dressed in his costume, he stares at a bright toy train. Alfred softly approaches. “I see you managed to recover it, Master.” Bruce murmurs, “My favorite thing. The last thing they ever gave me, Alfred. The last present from my mother and father… and I almost lost it.”

Alfred reassures him, “Not to worry, Sir. It's safe and sound in your old bedroom now.” Bruce continues to look at the little train. “You're right, old friend. Right as always.” Alfred gently prompts, “It's getting late, Master Bruce. Almost dawn. Time for bed, I think.” Bruce shifts to his knees, finally prying his eyes away from the toy and the memories it holds to look at his lifelong friend. He quietly agrees. “Yes, Alfred. Time for bed.”

We end on a distant view of the Wayne Manor, the ombré pink and purple sky casting a light on the pure white snow. A promise of peace after a restless, cold night.

END ID]

[gutsfics]

well now you have to tell me how it's like a community center ofc

idk if community center was quite the right term, but bc of how involved they r in the community, the theater has absolutely become a bit of a "third location" type thing in their town. yknow like not home not work but somewhere you can spend time? since its a theater it is for the most part film centric, but its not like the whole building is one big auditorium so there's space for other things

repeating this for the sake of keeping my thoughts in order, they have that partnership w their local library. library card holders can "check out" tickets to new films and when the library wants to have an event that's a bit too big for one of the event rooms, they can rent out the lobby of the theater, or one of the auditoriums if its a movie based events

there's a sort of second floor to the lobby that leads to access to like. special vip balcony seats (which are vip in the sense that the chairs are different and you have to pay a little extra) and up there there's a sort of cafe-like place that a lot of clubs meet in. & u dont have to pay anything for your club to meet there, you just have to let an employee know so that they can tell you if there's space available for your club that day

& there are plenty of Film Viewing And Discussion groups that meet there and its super easy to get your own set up. Thomas and Avalon actually host one themselves specifically, its for Queer Film Discussion :) (also they usually attend any other film discussions happening bc they just really love talking about movies w people)

also. have you just finished making a movie and you live in <insert whatever i decide to name the town here>? GOOD NEWS. Thomas and Avalon are Already setting up the debeut for your film and have invited the whole town. theyre super involved with the local filmmaking scene & love to support local filmmakers as best they can. theyre already hyping the fuck out of your movie. they love you <3

theres absolutely other stuff that theyd do, but im trying to to say anything that would be too wild and out there for a theater to do lol lmao

[dravanias]

i feel like this needs more sauce