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WHAT IS UR FAV FOOD (if u wanna keep this friendship u better say burrito)
Oop just saw this.
Burritos and my dad’s sausage bread. U know the one.
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— PLACES TO SCRIPT (HOGSMEADE)


˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
🪼 — THE HOGSMEADE TROLLEY glides through the village on invisible tracks, its smooth wooden exterior adorned with shimmering silver and gold filigree and glowing lanterns that cast a warm, inviting light. Enchanted to give off the sounds of lightly ringing bells, you can hear it coming from a block away, and it carries passengers from one end of town to the other without needing a driver Inside. Riders can sit in cushioned seats to enjoy their journey, or more haphazardly stand or hang off the side while holding onto the bar
🪼 — THE SORCERER’S SCONE is a charming bakery tucked away in a cobblestone corner of Hogsmeade, where the sweet scent of fresh pastries and the soft glow of fairy lights lure passersby inside. The shelves are always stocked with warm, buttery croissants, cakes that shimmer with enchantments, and delicate sugar cookies shaped like miniature broomsticks
🪼 — VELVET & LACE is Hogsmeade’s premier formal wear boutique, offering a dazzling collection of enchanted gowns, tailored robes, and wizarding suits. Each garment is crafted to ensure a perfect fit, making it the most-wanted destination before any dance or event. The shop’s opulent interior, adorned with floating mirrors and soft candlelight, makes every visit feel like a step into a royal castle
🪼 — FLOREAN’S FROSTED FLAVORS is a cozy ice cream parlor known for its enchanted scoops that sparkle, swirl, and sometimes change colors. With a constantly changing menu of magical flavors like Butterbeer Swirl and Fizzing Chocolate Chip, it’s a favorite spot for students and locals alike. The atmosphere is warm and filled with the soft hum of chatter and the occasional laughter from the enchanted toppings misbehaving

˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
🪼 — THE ENCHANTED EASEL is a whimsical arts and crafts shop where paints shimmer with magical hues and quills sketch on their own. Shelves overflow with supplies from self-weaving yarn to enchanted parchment that animates drawings. It’s a hot spot for creative witches and wizards seeking the right materials for all their different hobbies
🪼 — MAGIC MIRROR is a luxurious shop nestled in Hogsmeade, offering a wide range of magical makeup, hair products, and skincare potions. With shimmering shelves stocked with enchanted creams and shimmering powders, customers can indulge in the finest products, crafted to bring out their inner radiance with a little magical help
🪼 — THE QUAFFLE CLOSET is a cozy, no-frills shop tucked away on a side street in Hogsmeade, offering an eclectic collection of secondhand robes, dresses, and accessories at remarkably low prices. The shelves are stacked with vibrant, well-loved garments from past seasons, with charms used to make them look refreshed. Though humble, it’s a favorite spot for students looking to snag a deal or find something truly unique
🪼 — PRIMWICK’S PIES is a cozy, magical pizzeria in Hogsmeade, where wood-fired pizzas are crafted with enchanted ingredients and topped with a multitude of flavors. The rustic interior is warm and inviting, with bubbling cauldrons of sauce and enchanted ovens that hum with a gentle, glowing heat
🪼 — THE BLOOMING BOUGH is a charming florist shop where blooms thrive in year round, regardless of the season. Enchanted roses change color with your mood, and whispering vines curl gently around curious hands. The air is filled with the scent of fresh flowers, and the skill of the florists make it a favorite stop for romantic gestures and seasonal celebrations

˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
🪼 — SHEAR DELIGHT is a cozy, inviting hair salon and barbershop in Hogsmeade where both wizards and witches come for trims and new styles. The atmosphere is lively and friendly, endless amounts of gossip is spilled between stylist and client, and customers leave looking their best
🪼 — OPAL & ONYX is a charming jeweler’s shop in Hogsmeade, its windows sparkling with an array of enchanted rings, necklaces, and bracelets that catch the light in mesmerizing ways. Each piece is crafted by hand, many are imbued with protective charms. Whether seeking a gift or a personal keepsake, the shop offers something for every occasion
🪼 — MOONLIT MYSTIC is nestled between two towering oak trees at the outskirts of town, draped in rich velvet curtains and flickering candlelight. Inside, an ornate crystal ball rests on a velvet cushion, surrounded by ancient tarot decks and incense smoke that dances in the air. You can pay to have your fortune told here, though it’s still unconfirmed whether the elderly witch is a talented divinator, or a scammer
🪼 — THE SALTY TIDE is a cozy seafood restaurant in Hogsmeade, where the air is thick with the scent of freshly caught fish and magically created ocean breezes whistle through the windows. Its rustic wooden tables and softly glowing lanterns illuminate the walls, which are lined with aquariums filled with shimmering fish. The menu features a variety of magical and muggle-inspired seafood dishes
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
#shifting to hogwarts#hogwarts dr#hogwarts scripting#reality shifting#shiftblr#shifters#shifting antis dni#shifting blog#shifting motivation#hogwarts aesthetic#hogwarts headcanons#hogsmeade#scripting ideas#shifting script#hogwarts shifting#hogwarts shifting script
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[INDEX] Sonatina of the Perverse and Intoxicating Service (Completed)
"Even if I'm laughed at and ridiculed, I like living freely as I please, however I feel like it. If I can't do that, it’s better for me to just turn to stones."
Characters: Shylock, Owen, Oz, Mitile, Akira.
I don't know what I'm reading 80% of the time I translate this because it sounds like a fanfiction but apparently, it's not.
Also, should I warn that there is collar and chain involved....
Episode 1 Episode 2 Episode 3 Episode 4 Episode 5 Episode 6 Episode 7 Episode 8 Episode 9 Episode 10
This Sonatina is actually a really interesting read because honestly, we rarely see these two interact. Although I feel the "similarity" between them is a bit forceful (as individuality is something all wizards have anw and not just them), the portrayal of Shylock in this event is well done. I always like his crazy side more than the gentle, polite side because we all know he is not just your local friendly bartender. So, seeing him bet his life just to make an "according to keikaku" moment at the end, is pretty awesome.
Wish they could dig more deeply into Shylock's loneliness tho.
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Your dashboard if you were in a d&d fantasy world still involved in fictional erotica discourse part 2

⛰️ berenicesblade Follow
now that the new Mountain Angel volume has come out can we please tag spoilers, some of us are still waiting for our pigeon mail
🦚 faeynadaughter Follow
you can access the volume in full on TomePlane!
🎭 bardcampistrash Follow
until TomePlane acknowledges that its interplanar storage is made possible by binding aboleths to the plane and killing them then we are going to continue not using that platform, thanks
🦚 faeynadaughter Follow
aboleths killed my cousin who was a royal cleric. ill never understand why theres a whole movement to protect abyssal creatures when theyve caused so much damage to our kingdoms. and disliking a pocket dimension which provides thousands of people access to books? your attitude reeks of anti literaturism and mal-aligned virtue signaling and im not sure which is worse
🫒 tenthday237 Follow
Aliizya gets pregnant on page 62
⛰️ berenicesblade Follow
banished
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🏰 finchtruther Follow
okay but the way that faelor finch writes every song that perfectly fits pennbiel liiike its giving closet fangirl
🧭 waywardwarlock
seriouslyy!! like what else is "give me your unmarked hand / in the shadowfell we won't be a secret" supposed to be about if not pennipher and corabiel
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🌫️ cloudgiant-snailboy Follow
yall please dont fill up the unseen servant tag with your super fucking weird smut posts im just looking for tips on how to find my unseen servant
🪡 scç-writer
the search function on tomeblr does need to be updated but we dont have to kinkshame :)
🌫️ cloudgiant-snailboy Follow
the site is being overrun by virgin degenerates
🍯 treebarkhookhandwagondoor
sounds like you need Wilam the Wizard with Wandering Hands to help you summon the unseen stick in your ass
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🗝️ crypt-princess Follow
so whose going to be the first to commission a painting of that scene with Aliizya and the beholder 👀
🍎 bloodmaledickening Follow
i already asked my local artisan he said he's gotten two other commissions for the same scene lmao
🐁 softbarbarian
girl i commissioned a tapestry
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🕯️ andersfirelight Follow
friendly reminder that devil deals are a real thing that a lot of people fall victim too and that demons are malicious and do destroy peoples lives if theyre not careful so please be careful when consuming works like Hellionfinity which romanticizes devil deals and fiendish soul contracts
🌾entangled-farmer Follow
imo any work of fiction that involves a romance between any type of fiend is not just problematic but harmful
🕯️ andersfirelight Follow
i used to be indifferent to books that had devil romance interests because like thats their whole thing theyre seducing people to get their souls and the mc overcomes it, but reading through the replies i see that Hellionfinity actually ends with the devil character as the main romantic lead which is super problematic in terms of power imbalance and the fact that he has a redemption arc is so out of touch especially since our military is finally recovering from the azgurian assault
🧚🏻♂️arms-of-faelor
helliofinity also has a scene where the main character uses a soul coin that an imprisoned mortal gave him and he uses it to bring the devil out of avernus so he doesnt fully die and no one in the book mentions it or talks about how messed up it is to use soul coins and we never see the now bound to hell prisoner ever again
🕯️ andersfirelight Follow
hellionfinity officially cancelled on my end!
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☘️ celest-ial Follow
moment of silence for all the customers waiting on drink orders while the tavern wench gets her back blown out by a new guy every night ✊😔
🦁 king-killa Follow
the gods work hard but Girthy Gladys gets worked harder
57,022 Notes

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme
paladin and warlock romances are OUT! cleric and necromancer romances are IN!
🪭 royalcoinpurse Follow
the only thing a cleric should do to a necromancer is beat him to death so she can revive him and kill him again
🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

❇️ arch-dryad Follow
i think we need to analyze why we're so quick to place women in categories of devious seductress or healer in romance novels as if that hasnt been the pervasive trope that holds magic-touched women back in our actual society
🍯 treebarkhookhandwagondoor
why do you assume these fictional tropes are mf couples only? can a gay cleric not beat his gay necromancer boyfriend to death?
🎲 beholdersbeholdingme
and off! beat him off cmon guys
5,275 Notes

🧀 weremouse Follow
yall ever be talking or whatnot and feel like no one understands you
🪨 sebrenenogdon Follow
ᛄᚠ ᛡᚢ ᚳᚪᚾ ᚱᛁᛞ ᚦᛄᛋ ᛡᚢ ᚺᚪᚠ ᛏᚢ ᚱᛁᛒᛚᚪᚷ ᚦᛄᛋ
🧀 weremouse Follow
say that shit fr (<- looking around clueless)
🪨 sebrenenogdon Follow
ᛋᛁᚱᛁᚪᛋᛚᛁ
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🌠 crownofstars
remember when that person made a call out post for the author of ilairepeler for using a ghost writer and it turned out the author was an actual ghost. writing. like a literal ghost writer. like.
🍄gnomestool Follow
arent you the dwarf that fucked a slaad
🌠 crownofstars
how would you like to become a ghost so you can write more witty comments like this for eternity
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#round two please laff i did this at work#fantasy dashboard#tumblr dashboard meme#dungeons and dragons#d&d#bg3#dungeon meshi#my post
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maybe this is too niche or wtv but you know how you mentioned the stardew valley soundtrack in your sex pollen lads fic. ok so. in your glorious mind palace, what would you envision the lads men like as stardew valley bachelors??? LIKE would raf be like elliot and live near the sea in a shack or would it be more bougie??? instead of an aspiring writer he’d be the mysterious and talented artist….would zayne be the town doctor with the crush on the new farmer (mc) that drops by and warns her about the mines but it’s just an excuse to talk to her. sylus would be like the wizard living alone and kinda distanced from the townsfolk and xavier would perhaps be another adventurer that sometimes teams up w mc on mine explorations and and calendars would be your personal farmhand bc he just wants to help and be near you and and and AHHH ive never thought of this concept before until i read that offhand comment on your au 😭😭😭 brain rot to the max i fear

lads as stardew bachelors ⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°
HELP nothing is too niche and i mean nothing.
***even though i know this isn’t what you meant, my mind immediately went to how similar xavier and sebastian are in terms of personality and lifestyle like 😭 deepspace hunter career aside ofc, they’re both on the reserved, lowkey side and wake up hours after everyone else lmao (i digress)
xavier would be the local sheriff, deeply concerned with the town’s welfare even if he isn’t always the most punctual (zzz). he’s a chill, laid-back guy on the surface but when it comes down to it, he knows how to deal with the mischief makers!! he’s buddies with linus and buys him a meal from time to time, and though he never directly participates in town events, he’s always there to offer his support in other ways. i also hc that he feeds the stray cats (along w sylus) 😻
ur so right, rafayel would totally live in an elliot shack by the sea 😂 but he would also appear as a humanoid ocean creature(?) who shows up every now and then while you're fishing to say strange cryptic things and give you weird magical gifts. you don't know him and goofy land rafayel are the same person but find out eventually when you reach a high enough level of friendship/romance with him.
sylus IS the wizard. u hit the bullseye with that one bc i tried so hard to think of an existing bachelor that matches his vibe and failed. but lord imagine sylus as an enigmatic sorcerer who teaches you magic and gifts you potions and is intimidating at first but turns out to be such a darn sweetheart once you get to know him.
and yes, zayne is the town doctor, but slightly different from harvey in that he's a little shy. he's got a bit of a complicated past that needs unpacking—mainly to do with him giving up his dreams of becoming a big-city doctor to stay in the valley and look after the people he loves most. after so many years of status quo (and maybe a pinch of resentment), you come along and he's hit by a whirlwind of love <3
caleb has something to do with the railway station. don't ask how i came to this conclusion. i just know it in my heart that he's either the sexy mechanic who stops by for a beer once in a while or the equally sexy train conductor who unknowingly seduces everyone in town. he's friendly but he's got an edge to him. and one hell of a mysterious past... 🤔
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So here's Obito.
Kakashi.
Read more info ⬇️
Obito is a half-elf who lived with his family for two decades, helping them. I imagine it as a small village with friendly people. Happy childhood with his parents . Average cottage life, a small sheep herd, garden and a bunch of pumpkins.
His parents ran away so they can be together. (I like half-Senju! Obito too much). Senju is a human clan and Uchiha are elves who hate each other. Boom. Drama.
One night, there was an attack on the village. It was Uchiha, a young elf, and Warlock. He killed Obito's parents (Itachi is a different story, and it's very raw, so bear with me). Obito manages to survive. He found refuge in the form of an old elf paladin who helped him. (Of course, it was Madara's setup)
He trained Obito. He became stronger and made an oath with God of Justice (Tyr if you wish, but I'm thinking do not mention any of the DnD canon names and Gods), so he became a Paladin of Devotion. He began to travel the world saving people and helping them.
But at one moment when he needed help the most, no one came to his aid. He began to contemplate the world and the gods. A moment in which an event occurs in direct opposition to Obito's oath and his God's domain. It's simple, but such a traumatic event can make one view the gods as selfish, callous, and inconsiderate of mortal affairs that do not affect themselves - which in turn leads to disillusionment with oath. As a result, he broke his oath because the gods did not like that he began to pry into their dark affairs. (Canonical hatred of the Shinobi system and rules dnd style and without Rin's sacrifice.)
I can imagine Obito becoming Oathbreaker because he wants to achieve justice but in his own, wrong way. He claims that God betrayed him. Obito is blinded by power and his hunger for it.
Obito returns to Madara and tells him about that. He is agitated by the disappearance of his power. Madara tells that he has to make a new pact to gain powers. Thus Obito was lured into making a pact with the goddess who now gives him power in exchange for his soul. Obito kills Madara. He's now an Oathbreaker Paladin and Warlock whose Patron is a moon Goddess herself. (I wanted it to be a Tharizdun, The Chained Mad God, but changed my opinion. Tho still sounds cool) So Obito was tricked into a pact.
Obito is traveling the world and destroying the Cults. He's 62 when he met Kakashi in the woods, running from an Owlbear. They fight together, but Obito gets hurt. They return to Kakashi's camp. A bit of talking and my writing.
"The gods betrayed me." Obito growled. "They betrayed us all. They claim to be benevolent, but all they care about is power, status, and their own selfish gains." Kakashi was surprised by the paladin's disdain for the gods. It wasn't often that he met someone who outright scorned the gods, especially a paladin. "I see," he said, continuing to tend to Obito's wounds. "You're quite the blasphemer."
So Kakashi is also trying to find a local cult. They decided to travel together. (There's a plot!)
Obito looked at Wizard with a steely gaze. "I no longer align myself with the gods, nor do I seek their favor. I have become an instrument of my own destiny, and I answer to no one but myself."
But Obito does not even suspect that Kakashi is looking for a cult not just to destroy it. But that's a story for another time.
Here's some stats and info for character sheet list in my head for nerds like me.
8 14 16 8 12 20 (STR, DEX, CON, INT, WIS, CHA) Level 14 8 Paladin 6 Warlock Oathbreaker (Aura of Hate, Control Undead, Dreadful Aspect) The Great Old One Pact (Mortal Remind) Pact of The Blade (Binded Weapon, CHA based)
#little gremlin obito#obito uchiha#украрт#dungeons and dragons#artists on tumblr#naruto#obkk#kakashi x obito#укртумбочка#український tumblr#dnd au#dnd art#paladin#oathbreaker#warlock#naruto au#naruto fanart#obito fanart
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On Thursday, February 20, 2025, I got hit by a freight train.
Let me explain…
When I saw @wizard-loving-wizard post that Aabria was teaching a free masterclass in Hamilton, Ontario, I was crushed.
I live in Montreal, Quebec, which is a seven-hour drive from Hamilton. Round trip tickets would have cost me ~$200, which would have been perfectly affordable if it wasn’t for the dire financial situation I’ve been in for the last several months. I felt like I was missing out on a dream come true because I was just too much of a fuck up to reach out and take it.
I retreated to my Aabria appreciation post on Discord and vented about my inability to attend the event. Fifteen minutes later, a fellow Aabria fan, who I will refer to as “Ruby” replied, “Tell me how much it costs to get there and back- I will sponsor you.”
I almost immediately refused. They explained that they wanted to pay my way as a birthday present for themself, because they really wanted to see me follow my dreams. So, I decided to look up the current ticket prices. I did my research and learned the most efficient route was to take a bus from Montréal to Toronto, then from Toronto to Hamilton. Four tickets, round trip. Then, I registered to get my ticket for the masterclass, just to make sure I didn’t secure bus tickets only to find that the class had sold out.
I asked around some local social media groups to see what options I had and found someone who was looking to trade a bus ticket from Montreal to Toronto on the exact date of the event. They ended up trading me the ticket in exchange for a faux fur blanket that I forgot I had. Ruby congratulated me for snagging one of the tickets, but reminded me that their offer was still available.
I kept looking, in the hopes that I would eventually find a way to get from Toronto to Hamilton, and then back home again without having to accept freely-given financial support (no, I don't have a therapist, why do you ask?), but I had no such luck. I felt like I was on a perpetual roller coaster of hope and disappointment, but every time I got discouraged, I hummed “Impossible” from Rogers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella to myself – the Brandy and Whitney Houston rendition, specifically – and kept going.
On Wednesday, I had to accept that I probably would not be finding any more bus tickets on my own, so I thanked Ruby for reiterating the offer and told them how much I needed for the remaining three tickets. They sent me $200 regardless.
I bought the rest of the tickets and left for Toronto at 6:30 am Thursday morning.
On the way to Toronto, I got a Spill notification (Spill is a Black-owned social media app) reminding me about the weekly “Advanced Audacity” lecture series I had signed up for. It suddenly hit me that, last Thursday, I had said that I simply didn't have the funds to achieve my dreams. Naya, the audacity coach running the lecture series (yes, audacity coach) asked me what dream I didn’t have the funds for, and I said “becoming a performer/storyteller in the TTRPG space.” And there I was on a bus to McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario to watch Aabria Iyengar teach a D&D storytelling masterclass, exactly seven days later.
Wild.
I got to the venue safely and settled in for the show. It was phenomenal, unsurprisingly. Aabria was joined on stage by four local D&D players, one of whom was a Black woman named Renée. Aabria began by giving a short talk on storytelling within the context of D&D (and the sociocultural implications that come with it), before spending the rest of the show DMing a brilliantly thrilling one-shot. I took notes throughout the entire event and had a lot of fun writing speculative marginalia about the thought-process behind her storytelling choices and jotting down the insights she shared as she paused to explain why she was doing something the way she was doing it.
I was also particularly struck by Bubbles, Renée's unsettlingly over-friendly Tiefling character. At some point, I leaned over to @wizard-loving-wizard (who I met and got to sit next to at the event) and whispered, “Bubbles is the Tabby to my Evan Kelmp.”
After the show, Aabria sat on the edge of the stage to chat with audience members, and my wildest dream of being able to nerd out about storytelling with Aabria Iyengar… was immediately shattered when she looked over at me and I reacted like Troy Barnes meeting LeVar Burton. I broke eye contact and starred at the ground, absolutely furious with myself. Thankfully, I remembered that I wanted to ask Aabria to record a video message for Ruby, so I did end up meeting her.
I told her about the blanket–bus ticket trade and Ruby's generosity, and then I tried to ask for a video message, but I just said "Um," forever until she asked me if I wanted to send Ruby something. I jammed my phone into her hand, and she said, "Oh, I'm doing it?" and I said, "I DUNNO," to which she replied, "No, we're all in this now!" turned into a selfie stick, and recorded a minute long heartfelt message for Ruby with WLW and I just kinda hanging out in the background. Then she asked me if I wanted to take a photo with her. After the photo, she said something that I cannot remember, but I remember saying, "I am not here," in response, to which she replied, "No, don't dissociate!" And then I dissociated, and I don't remember what happened between that and saying goodbye, but I do remember that after I said goodbye, I said, “Flee the scene!” and legged it.
So, I didn’t exactly get to discuss any of the notes I had taken, but I did meet Aabria Iyengar, and that alone is a dream come true, even though I became a version of myself nobody has ever seen before and I hope to God no one ever sees again, because, what the fuck… was that.
Anyways.
WLW couldn’t stay for the after party but kindly dropped me off. I was starting to get pretty tired, and I was disappointed that I didn’t get to properly talk to Aabria, so I didn’t actually want to go anymore, but I also didn’t want to give up on having the opportunity to have a conversation about storytelling with somebody. So, I went inside.
I spent a long time just kind of standing in a corner by myself until I worked up the courage to approach someone else who was also just kind of off to the side, and we ended up striking up a conversation. We chatted about the show, and as we spoke, I slowly came to the realization that most of the people who came out to the masterclass were motivated by an interest in D&D.
Now, this sounds like a dumb realization to make after traveling for seven hours to attend a D&D masterclass, but it was an important one, because I don’t give that big of a fuck about D&D. I’ve never played a single TTRPG in my goddamn life. Would I? Sure. But D&D had nothing to do with how desperately I wanted to go to that masterclass. I was drawn in by something else.
Last Thursday, Naya the audacity coach said that one of the ways we think ourselves out of our dreams is by assuming that everybody would be doing what we want to be doing if it was something that anybody could just up and do. But that assumption is false. Everybody has different dreams. Not everybody wants to be doing what you want to do. And I looked around the room and saw Renée on the other side and realized we were the only Black women there.
I didn’t feel quite up to breaking the ice, but thankfully my conversation partner wanted to go ask Renée what Bubbles’ class was, because she had the other three pretty much figured out. So we walked over and joined the conversation. Bubbles turned out to be a druid, and the reason she was hard to identify was because Renée did not take a single combat action during the entire one-shot and Bubbles was still a fascinating and engaging character nonetheless. I’m not exactly sure where the conversation went from there, but I remember getting really excited because Renée said Bubbles’ whole “unaware that she’s freaking people out by being too friendly” vibe really resonated with her, and I excitedly told her that it really resonated with me too, and then there was this lovely moment where Renée started talking about how much harder it is to be a weirdo when you’re already a visible minority, and she started a phrase that ended with “when all they see is,” and she looked me right in the eyes and paused for the tiniest fraction of a second before saying, “sharp teeth and horns.” I already knew how common it is for a Black person to play as Tieflings, but using a Tiefling as a literal metaphor in order to talk about your experiences as a Black person while physically, not figuratively, but literally standing in a predominantly-white space and simultaneously protecting that expression of self from getting hijacked and repurposed as a teachable moment for the benefit of everybody else in the room but you absolutely blew my mind.
I have strongly identified with the song "In My Own Little Corner" since the first time I heard Brandy sing it as Cinderella, but "Impossible" didn't resonate with me until I watched the first episode of “Burrow’s End” on YouTube and Aabria became my Storytelling Fairy Godmother. Since then, I’ve been hearing “Impossible” playing from some vague, untraceable location in the distance that I had no real hope of finding. But, on Monday, it crystallized to a single point over Hamilton, Ontario, and on Tuesday, it started getting louder, like the horn of an approaching freight train, and it kept getting louder, until Thursday, February 20, 2025, the freight train hit, and I’m different now.
Fuck it, I’m different now.
It was Impossible for me to go to the masterclass, so somebody else sent me. And it was Impossible for me to achieve my dreams because if they were possible, everybody else would be doing it too, but I just sat in a room with 300+ people who don’t want what I want, so…
I’ve never been fired, but I did find out that I’d used up all my student funding last semester in the middle of midterms when I was too stressed to do anything about it, and I haven’t been able to pay rent since September. So, fuck it! I have the audacity. This is my Doechii moment now.
I’m going to go to a bunch of studios and ask if they have any internships open and ask questions, and by that I mean I’m going to connect with the Renées and the Aabrias, and all the other Black women storytellers, and talk to them about creating, and playing, and performing, and critiquing games, and stories, and characters, and worlds.
I’m going to message Renée and tell her I really enjoyed talking with her about her unique approach to gameplay and I’m going to ask if she’s free to chat more about it.
I’m even going to tag @quiddie and not even panic a little bit about it. Sup prof, lecture was sick, do you do… office hours…?
Anyways, that’s the story of how I got hit by a motherfucking freight train.
#long post#aabria iyengar#black women#black tumblr#I was nervous about posting this but one person reblogged and said they’re glad they read this and now I’m very glad I posted this#pulling The Chariot on Tuesday was wild#as usual I am only realizing I was having a panic attack after the panic attack#that’s what that was I was having a panic attack oops
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Tiny Match-maker

Bucky Barnes x Single mom!Reader Fluff
Adjusting to his new life outside of the superhero business, Bucky makes the acquaintance of a very young, inquisitive girl.
Just a meet-cute scenario with Bucky, that I might just write a part 2 for if people are interested in it.
Word count:1,853.
Masterlist // Bucky Barnes Masterlist
It wasn’t often that Bucky found time for himself. Between the busy and at times chaotic line of work he found himself in, it didn’t leave a lot of time to do the things that the average person could do.
Doctor Raynor suggested that taking a step back from the heroic, android, alien, wizard-crime-fighting lifestyle might be just the thing that he needed. To take some time to do the things that the everyday person took for granted.
So that’s why Bucky found himself for the first time in a long while browsing the aisles of his local grocery store, standing in the middle of the dairy aisle, pondering if there’s any real difference between getting oat milk or almond milk.
He’s brought out of his thinking when he feels something collide with his shins. Something, or rather someone. A young girl, she couldn’t have been more than three, maybe four years old. Her hair that is tied up into two bunches on either side of her head bounce slightly as she crashes into him.
He looks around himself, apart from him and this little girl, the aisle was otherwise empty.
What was he supposed to do? He’d rescued thousands of civilians time and time again, but this little girl was just standing there, wide-eyed and innocently looking up at him.
“Hi! My name’s Lottie!” the little girl introduces herself with a big gap-toothed smile.
Bucky crouches down ever so slightly to meet her smaller stature.
“Hi there, Where are your parents, huh? Are you lost?” he asks, keeping his voice soft when talking to her.
Just as the little girl opened her mouth to answer, a woman came running down the aisle, slightly out of breath and with a look of panic on her face.
As she gets closer, Bucky takes in her appearance, she's pretty. Really pretty. The kind of effortless beauty that has a faint blush rising to his cheeks.
“Charlotte!” the woman calls out as she comes closer to the little girl before scooping her up in her arms and hoisting her on her hip. “What have I told you about running off like that?” you gently scold her, although the scolding is more out of your own worries about your little girl.
“Sorry mommy.” she murmurs quietly as she tucks her head into your shirt.
“I’m so sorry, sir, I hope she didn’t bother you too much.” you smile apologetically at the man in front of you. He was tall, broad and far too handsome for his own good. With soft dark brown hair that fell along his jaw, pretty pink lips, the most beautiful stormy grey-blue eyes, and just the right amount of stubble grazing across his angled jaw to have you blushing as he looked your way.
“Oh, hey, no harm done, she seems like a sweet kid.” he smiles, his voice is deep and rich, with a slight raspy gravel.
“Yeah, she is, although it would help if she wasn’t so much of an explorer, it’d be a lot easier to keep my eye on her otherwise.” you laugh.
“No, the world needs more explorers I say!” the handsome stranger joins in with a friendly chuckle of his own.
“Well, I can see you’re busy, so we won’t keep you any longer..” you string out the end of your sentence, when you realise that you don’t actually know your new friend’s name.
“James. My name’s James.” he says, gesturing to himself. You tell him your name in return with a friendly smile.
“Well, it was nice talking to you, James.” You smile before turning back down the aisle.
Bucky watched as you walked away from him, and he couldn't help but hope that he might run into you again.
“Look, all you gotta do is go down there, tell a few old man war stories, answer some questions, maybe have your picture taken a few times and that’s it” Sam explained.
Sam had signed Bucky up to tell a few stories to the kids at the school downtown. A few about his life back in the day, and his life now. Sam thought it might be good for his public image.
“Just because you’re Captain America now, doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do, Sam.” Bucky grumbled.
“When Steve gave me the shield, he did warn me it came with the custody of one grumpy super-soldier.” Sam laughed a wide, gap-toothed smile at his friend.
“..And that’s why you don’t let your best friend sign-up to be a government ordered science experiment.” Bucky smiled, as he finished his talk with the assembled group of young students in the small, but colourful classroom.
“Wonderful, and does anybody have any questions for Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher asked, as she stepped out beside Bucky.
“How did you lose your arm?” a young boy blurts out, quickly raising his hand.
“Timothy!” The teacher is quick to gently scold the young boy, but Bucky quickly steps in before she can make her point.
“It’s quite alright, I don’t mind answering this question.” He assures the teacher, before turning to the young boy. “I-uh-I kind of lost it when I came up against a bunch of bad-guys, who weren’t very nice at all.” Bucky thinks carefully about how he was going to word his answer, especially for this 5-year old kid. “..But it’s all good now, because I’ve got the super-strong metal one.” he shows off by rolling up the sleeve of his deep-red henley shirt.
“Are you and The Falcon really friends?” another young boy asks from where he’s sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of Bucky.
“Well, we’re team-mates, so I guess I’d call him a friend, but really he only hangs out with me because I make him look cool.” Bucky jokes with ease.
“Mr. Sergeant Barnes.” A tiny hand shoots up amongst the group.
Bucky looks out and there sat at the back of the class is the little girl who ran into him at the grocery store at the weekend. Her bouncy curls tied up in two bunches on either side of her head.
“Yes, Lottie, you have a question for Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher prompts.
“Are you single? I think my mommy would really like you.” She smiles in that innocent way that children do, unaware of the slightly impertinent question she was asking.
Bucky flushes scarlet all over, a blooming heat settling over his features.
With a laugh and a nervous scratch to the back of his neck, he gathered himself together enough to answer the young girl.
“I am, and I’m sure your mommy is a wonderful lady, but I think it's best that we don't talk about her private life when she's not here.” Bucky stutters out, chosing his words very carefully.
The school bell suddenly rings into life, signifying the end of the day, and the children are all quick to get up from the carpet and make their way towards their coats and bags that are stowed away in their cubby holes.
“Ah ah, kids! What do we say to Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher prompts
“Thank you Sergeant Barnes.” The children say harmoniously.
Bucky shrugs on his dark leather jacket as he makes his way out of the school, watching as all of the kids rush off to find their parents.
He was just about to head off to the school’s parking lot, where he’d parked his motorbike, when he sees the same girl from the classroom, the very same one who had bumped into him at the grocery store, this time her tiny hand tugging her mother across the playground and straight towards him.
“Mommy! This is the man who came into class today to tell us stories!” Lottie bubbled excitedly.
You stepped closer to Bucky and he swears that you got even more beautiful than when he last saw you for that fleeting moment.
As you get close enough to him to fully see his face you are met with the piercing blue eyes of the familiar stranger who you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since you’d bumped into him at the supermarket.
“Mommy! This is Mr. Sergeant Barnes! He told us all about working with his friend Captain America!” Lottie blurts out.
You had recognised him from the moment you saw him in the store, but out of courtesy to not embarrass him, you pretended that you didn't know about his life as an avenging super-soldier.
“Mr. Sergeant Barnes?” Your voice raises in a teased question.
“Just James is fine, Ma’am.” Bucky clarifies, extending a warm hand out in a friendly greeting.
In return you shake his hand and tell him your name.
“So, it seems that we’re meeting again, James” You smile
“Hah, yeah.” He smiles back fondly with a warm chuckle.
“So you’re the one who’s been telling my daughter all these fantastical stories?” you pose, eyebrow arched.
“Just something I do as a way of working with the local community. Helping young kids to learn about their history from first-hand accounts.” he explains.
“Well, that's a very sweet thing to do.” you smile.
“Mommy.” Lottie whispers as she tugs at the sleeve of your jacket. “He said he was single too!”
“Sorry about her, she likes to play match-maker.” you apologise, hoping that things hadn’t taken a turn for the awkward.��
“It’s okay.” he laughs it off. “She’s a cute kid.”
“Yeah it’s just been me and her from the start, it’s been tough at times, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Oh? Well she seems like a wonderful young girl, and that’s only testament to having you as her mother.” he says with an earnest smile tugging at his pink lips.
“Come on now, Lottie, let’s head home, and let Mr. Sergeant Barnes get back to his life.” you say to your daughter as you begin to make your way out of the school’s playground.
“Wait!” He jogs across the school years to catch up with you before you can leave. “and you can absolutely tell me if I'm just reading this whole situation all wrong, but I'd be a fool if I didn't at least ask you if you perhaps fancied meeting up and getting coffee..at least meeting on purpose this time.” he blushes adorably.
“You know what, I'd like that actually.” You nod. “Let me give you my number and you can text me whenever you're free and we can set something up.”
He hands you over his phone and you enter your number in and text yourself so you have his number on your phone too.
“Here you go,” you say as you hand him over his phone. “It was nice seeing you again, James.”
“Bucky.”
“Hm?”
“My friends call me Bucky.”
“Well, Bucky, I hope to see you again, sooner rather than later.”
“You can count on it.” He grins back with a cheeky wink.
Bucky walks back to his apartment with a confident stride, he'd have to thank Sam for signing him up for this gig, that's for sure.
@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @impmunson
#bucky x reader#Bucky Barnes x reader#Bucky x reader fluff#Bucky Barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes fluff#Bucky Barnes fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#Tiny Match-maker
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❛ pairing: Astarion/f!Tav; Astarion/f!OC (Ysera) ❛ word count: 8k ┊ ❛ rating: 18+ MDNI ❛ tags/cw: piv sex, fingering, oral sex, masturbation, blood drinking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, aphrodisiacs, rough sex, soft dom Astarion, with a liiiiittle bit of fluff at the end if you squint. as a little treat for myself. c:
‣ preview: She hasn't even finished before Astarion has tugged her forward, crashing their lips together with enough force that it knocks the breath from her lungs. And oh, if their mouths don't slot together just right, as if this was the only logical course of action for the both of them.
And when Astarion growls into her mouth and fists a hand possessively in her hair, everything but the taste of him, the familiar scent of rosemary and bergamot that infiltrates her senses, and the feel of his body as he presses her into the wall and grinds his hips against her fades into oblivion. AO3 ┊ series masterlist
The Underdark is hardly the most inviting place to make camp for the evening, but it's also not the worst place to they've stopped to rest along their journey. A forest of massive, vibrant mushrooms rises along the outskirts of their encampment, iridescent caps catching the light from their fire and reflecting back the most dazzling array of colors. If she can ignore the occasional eerie noises that echo off the cavernous walls, the place almost feels cozy, like some enchanted forest straight out of one of her childhood picture books.
There's a pot of stew simmering over the fire, the savory aroma of meats and vegetables enticing Ysera out of her tent the moment she's finished constructing it for the evening.
Gale catches her eye from across the fire, where he sits tending to their evening meal. A friendly smile beckons her over, and she gazes curiously into the pot when the wizard lifts the lid to add a handful of diced potatoes to the mix.
She's been studying his methods for the past several weeks, asking all sorts of questions about any number of things he's doing. And to his credit, Gale has answered every one of her relentless inquiries with as much enthusiasm as the last, eager to impart his knowledge upon her. She hasn't yet had the opportunity to apply her newfound skills, but she's working on convincing him to let her cook something for them all soon.
“That smells amazing, Gale!” Ysera says, laying a hand over her rumbling stomach. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
She doesn't bother to sit, hovering over the fire and shifting her weight from one foot to the other with restless excitement. After a long day of travel, the thing she wants most is a warm meal in her belly. Gale thanks her for her compliments and pauses a moment in thought.
“As a matter of fact, there is,” he concludes, holding up a finger as an idea strikes him. “I've read about a certain mushroom native to the Underdark with a flavor profile that should compliment this particular stew quite nicely.”
“You want me to go find some for you? I can, but…” Ysera bites her lip nervously and tilts her head. The last thing she wants to do is disappoint him. “I'm not certain I know what you're looking for.”
The smile that crinkles the corners of Gale's eyes is infectious, and Ysera can't help but beam back at him.
“Not to worry!” he assures her. “Just a moment…” Gale secures the lid over the pot and rummages through a stack of books beside the fire, and Ysera catches a few glimpses of their titles and contents. Local guidebooks. Cookbooks. And finally, a thorough compendium of Underdark flora and fauna. He thumbs through this last book before stopping on a particular page filled with field sketches and various tidbits of information. His eyes scan the drawings and he points to a mushroom near the bottom of the page, one with a short, fat stalk and a tall, plump cap. It looks unassuming, and certainly far less vibrant than most of the fungi that seem to grow here. One could easily mistake it for the same variety she's seen growing on the surface.
“Here we are,” Gale says, tracing his finger over the words beneath the picture. “According to this, they can most commonly be found in the dark, damp caverns here in the Underdark. There's a cave not too far from here that should be the perfect place to harvest them, if you're up for the task.”
Ysera's tail swishes two and fro as she gathers the book in her hands and nods. She gives him a salute before grabbing her pack and bounding off towards the direction he's told her to start looking.
“Okay,” Ysera calls over her shoulder. “I'm on it!”
––––––––––––––––––––––
Although the Underdark is full of horrific creatures with sharp claws and dripping fangs, many of them, Astarion has found, are quite inedible. He's had just enough thick, astringent blood to temper his hunger, but the empty ache in his stomach remains. Even the bloated, putrid rats that Cazador used to feed him were only half as foul as the wretched creatures he had stumbled upon tonight.
He grumbles under his breath as he saunters back into camp, intent on finding Ysera and convincing her to let him steal her away for a quick bite. He'd only just fed on her the night before, but no matter how often he does, it never seems to be enough to keep him sated for very long. He thinks about it – about her – so often now that he's certain she's bewitched him.
Astarion can practically taste her blood on his tongue, the way it always pours in crimson rivulets over his lips and down his throat when she lets him drink his fill of her. The satisfaction of it is something that he hasn't been able to find anywhere else, the warmth he's gradually come to crave even more than the sun. And here in the Underdark the absence of the sun has only made him that much more ravenous.
It only takes a few minutes for him to search their entire camp, but she's nowhere to be found. When he hadn't found her in her tent, he'd selfishly hoped to find her in his own, as though she might have anticipated what he needed from her and saved him the trouble of tracking her down. He'd drawn back the tentflap with a flourish, an easy smirk spreading across his lips, only to be greeted by nothing more than what few belongings he had managed to scrounge up along their travels.
Karlach snickers at him when he wanders back into the middle of camp and makes an exaggerated huff of annoyance. She leans over to Shadowheart, who's sitting next to her, and whispers something into the cleric's ear that makes her cover her mouth and laugh.
Astarion scowls at them both and taps his foot in annoyance.
“If the two of you are done gossiping, ” he mutters, “perhaps you'd like to tell me where Ysera is.”
Shadowheart pauses unbraiding her hair and shrugs. “Gale sent her out to fetch some mushrooms for the stew.”
Something like concern flickers over Astarion's face before he schools his expression into one of aloof indifference.
“Alone?”
Karlach's face splits open in a wide, toothy grin.
“You worried, Fangs? How cute.”
Astarion turns his nose up and scoffs incredulously.
“Of course not. Don't be ridiculous.” He folds his arms over his chest, but the sight of him pouting like a petulant child is hardly convincing. Another figure moves into his periphery, and Wyll joins Karlach and Shadowheart, taking several swigs of his bottle of wine before offering Astarion a look of genuine sympathy.
“Relax. Have some faith in her – she's perfectly capable.”
Astarion's expression sours. Of course Ysera is capable. He knows it better than any of them. But he's seen also seen her bumble through the woods and trip over one too many rocks to know that she's equally capable of walking straight into disaster, especially here in the Underdark where even the plants are hostile. It doesn't sit right with him that she's gone off on her own, and not only because she's his most reliable source of food for the time being.
“How long has she been gone?” Astarion questions.
Wyll, Karlach, and Shadowheart exchange glances, and even Gale seems concerned when Astarion throws a quick look in his direction.
“Come to think of it,” Gale admits, “she probably should have been back by now.”
The unease Astarion feels is foreign; he's used to worrying only about himself, and the realization that his thoughts have been preoccupied on her for the last several moments makes him especially irritated. He waits for someone else to intervene, but when none of them do he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily.
“Well, let's not all get up at once, hmm? I’ll fetch her.”
––––––––––––––––––––––
Ysera hums an absent tune to herself as she follows the path towards the cave. The farther she walks, the more familiar she becomes with her surroundings; she remembers the swaying lavender mushrooms that towered overhead the last time the party came through the afternoon prior, glowing brightly in the darkness. She follows them like a beacon, retracing the way they'd come before.
After a while, she comes upon a fork in the path, and a cursory glance tells her she should head left. The cave Gale had spoken of lies not too far ahead, and she picks up her pace as she navigates her way over a few jagged ledges. When she reaches it, she finds that the mouth of the cave is barely large enough to accommodate her, and she clutches Gale's book to her chest as she squeezes her way inside. The darkness inside swallows her entirely, and if not for the colonies of bioluminescent blue mushrooms scattered about the immediate vicinity, she'd be hard pressed to see much of anything, even with her darkvision.
The faint blue glow illuminates the cave walls just enough for her to navigate through the inky blackness, and she stops dead in her tracks when she comes upon a particularly large mushroom. Crouching beside it, Ysera reaches out tentatively and pokes it with the tip of her finger, delighted by the way it seems to shudder from her touch. She does it again, and as the cap scrunches up she almost imagines it furrowing its brow and scowling at her. The surface becomes glossy when it excretes a thick mucus, and she can't help but prod at it again. The substance burns her finger and she jolts backwards, tumbling onto her back as she frantically wipes her hand clean on her robes.
Ysera glares daggers at the offending mushroom before getting back on her feet and continuing deeper into the cave. There are fewer mushrooms here, and it's quickly becoming impossible for her to navigate on sight alone. And at any rate, she certainly won't be able to refer to the pictures in Gale's book.
A trio of brilliant blue light bursts forth from her fingers as she casts a quick Dancing Lights cantrip, squinting as the cave slowly comes into focus. Ivory stalactites descend from the roof, water dripping onto the walls and the floor of the cave and collecting in several tepid, shallow pools.
There are no mushrooms here that fit the description of what she's looking for, and Ysera spins on her heel to check another direction. A pale, grisly face emerges from the shadows when she turns, and before she can register exactly what it is she's looking at, she screams and swings Gale's book with as much force as she can muster. The sound of splintering bone and viscera pierces through the cave as the thing shatters into a thousand pieces, and the book flies from her hands before colliding with the rock along the back wall and tumbling into an empty crevice.
Ysera's heart thunders behind her ribs as she takes several deep breaths to calm herself. What's left of the grinning skull of the beast that died here grins back at her in a mocking fashion, and in a fit of frustration she summons a bolt of blazing fire and hurls it into the corpse, disintegrating it.
After storming across the cave, she peers down into the place where Gale's book vanished and groans when she realizes how deep it's wedged between the rocks. Even when standing on her tiptoes and reaching in as far as she can, her fingers don't seem to come anywhere close to snatching it.
Ysera deposits her pack on the ground and wedges herself into the crevice, bent at the waist as she wriggles herself closer towards the book. A quivering mass of bright orange mushrooms lines practically every surface of rock here, and when she accidentally brushes her hand across the spongy caps a cloud of spores explodes and obscures her vision. Her nose tickles when she breathes them in, nearly slamming her face into the wall when she sneezes.
A warm, fuzzy feeling envelopes her body like a blanket, and she can't be certain if it's the mushrooms or the fact that she's practically hanging upside down that's making her feel lightheaded. She presses on regardless, determined to retrieve Gale's book and avoid having to share thre embarrassing story of how she lost it to begin with.
At last her hand clasps the leather spine, and Ysera sighs with relief as she pulls it free from another bed of those peculiar orange mushrooms. But when she tries to back out of the crevice, she only succeeds in wriggling helplessly, wedging herself even deeper. No matter how hard she struggles, she makes little progress.
Ysera lets out a pitiful wail. She curses the mushrooms, curses Gale's book, curses whatever stupid thought had convinced her to come all this way without bringing anyone along with her.
It would be less pathetic if she had simply fallen over the side of a cliff and plummeted to her death.
“This is so humiliating,” she mutters dourly. “Astarion would never let me live this down if he was here.”
She's too caught up with wallowing in self-pity to hear the footsteps that sound behind her, soft footfalls that she should easily recognize by now.
“Right you are, darling,” a familiar voice purrs. The amusement in his voice reflects the mischievous smirk that curves his lips, all traces of his earlier concern erased the moment he found her thrashing around like a rabbit stuck in a trap. “This is quite the predicament you've found yourself in, isn't it?”
It only takes Ysera a moment to recognize his voice, and her tail perks up with excitement.
“Astarion? Thank the gods.” She squirms again when she doesn't hear him step any closer, face heating as she realizes how ridiculous she must look.
“Stop gawking and help me!”
Astarion doesn't bother sparing her the effort it would take to mask the snickering laugh he lets out as an answer. Hands in his pockets, he strides smugly towards her, clicking his tongue in disapproval.
“I don't think you're in any position to be making demands – where are your manners?”
Ysera kicks her legs in one last, futile attempt to free herself and flattens her tail dejectedly.
“Oh, you're terrible, ” she whines. “Go back and send Halsin instead, he's much nicer than you. Taller. Stronger. Not nearly as handsome, but I'll make due.”
Ysera's teasing backfires when she hears Astarion turn, his steps purposely noisy as he begins to walk away. He'd never abandon her, of course, but that doesn't mean he can't have a little fun in the meantime.
“A wonderful idea,” he says with a wave of his hand. “And in the meantime, I can tell everyone exactly how our esteemed leader ended up in such a sorry state.”
She can't see him, but she knows him well enough to know he's grinning ear to ear. The thought of anyone else finding out about this – and especially from Astarion – is mortifying.
“H-hold on,” she stammers, “there's no need for that! I’d hate to inconvenience you.”
Astarion slows to a halt and pretends to consider her offer.
“Not to worry, my dear,” he assures her, “It would be my pleasure.”
She's quite certain it would be. The bastard.
“All right, you win!” she concedes, pleading with him not to leave her. “Just get me out of here. I think something just crawled on my face.”
Finally, Astarion takes pity on Ysera and steps behind her, placing his hands on either side of her waist. The instant he makes contact with her, a surge of pleasure blooms between her legs and ripples through her body, wiping her mind clear of all coherent thought. Astarion glides his hands over her robes to get a better grip and through the haze inside her brain she thinks she hears him say something to her, but she can't quite make out the words, drowned out and seemingly too distant for her to hear.
The way he holds her evokes the sudden memory of a night not so long ago, when he had her bent over in a similar fashion, driving into her from behind as she bit into her pillow to stifle her mewls and whimpers. Her mind lurches towards the memory as it comes into focus, tries to seize it, but Astarion's voice cuts through her recollection like a knife through silk.
“Are you still with me, darling?”
“Huh?” She blinks and the memory is gone, but when his fingers inadvertently brush against her stomach she grits her teeth and bites back another noise she's certain he hears anyway.
“Oh… yeah,” she manages with a shaky laugh “I'm – I'm good.”
Astarion's hands tighten and he gives her a good tug, and after a moment it feels like everything is spinning as she tumbles out of the crevice and nearly loses her footing before Astarion steadies her. She quickly separates from him even as it makes her body ache for his touch like a wilting flower reaching for the sun. Astarion arches a puzzled brow but before he can question her odd behavior, she's thanking him profusely for helping her.
“You’re a lifesaver. Gale would have been awfully disappointed if I came back empty handed. Anyways…”
Ysera holds out Gale's book to inspect it for damage; there's nothing she can see with the exception of the blanket of neon orange spores that cling to the cover and the edge of the crisp white pages. She blows them free, watching as they scatter in the air like a thousand tiny fireworks. Astarion sputters and coughs as they drift close, waving them away with his hand.
Ysera offers him a sheepish grin and makes an apologetic face. “Oops. Sorry about that.” She calls on her Dancing Lights with a flick of her wrist and directs them towards the direction she had been heading previously. They cast the rocks in a soft glow as they hover in midair, and Ysera spots something promising tucked into the back of the cave, the familiar stocky mushrooms from Gale's book bathed in blue.
“I think the mushrooms Gale needed are back here,” she says, motioning with her thumb over her shoulder. “Give me a hand, will you?”
Upon closer inspection, Ysera confirms that they are indeed the mushrooms Gale had tasked her to bring him, and she sets the book aside before digging in her bag for the dagger Astarion had pocketed for her off of one of the dozens of goblins they'd killed while infiltrating the Selûnite temple several weeks prior.
The razor-sharp edge of the blade slices cleanly through the woody mushroom stalks, and Ysera deposits a handful of them into the pouch on her hip. Astarion fills the space beside her, the gleam of his own dagger reflecting the magicked light that circles overhead. He makes quick work of them with his nimble hands, carving through them as cleanly as he does his enemies.
Once he's gathered half a dozen mushrooms, he holds out his hand to pass them into Ysera's open palm. Their fingers brush when Astarion withdraws his hand, and a flash of heat ignites inside her again at the point where they make contact. This time, without the barrier of her clothes to interfere, it spreads through her body like a ravenous blaze, as if she is nothing more than dry kindling waiting to be devoured by the flames.
Ysera's eyes snap up to his face, and her mouth falls open when she finds that same heat reflected back at her, Astarion's eyes narrowed with clear intent and trained only on her. Her mouth is dry when she swallows and clears her throat, turning away the moment he starts to say something.
Another barrage of impure thoughts assault her fraying mind, flashes of all the ways he could take her here. Against the wall, on her knees; hells, she'd even risk the unforgiving surface of the cave floor if he wanted it. Her pulse quickens and she shakes her head to temper herself, loosing a long breath.
Although she busies herself with gathering more mushrooms, Ysera feels compelled to look sidelong at him from time to time, as if tethered to him by a taut thread. She steals quick little glances out of the corner of her eye with every handful of mushrooms she drops into her pouch, focusing on a different part of his face each time. His hair, perfectly styled in those elegant curls. The rich, carmine reds of his eyes, so alluring in the low light. His skin is almost impossibly smooth, pale except for the tips of his ears, which are still rouged from feeding on her the night before.
If she thinks about it too much, she's going to go insane. Gods, has he always been this handsome? He's always cut a fine figure, but if he looks at her again with that predatory gleam in his eye she doesn't think she'll be able to contain herself.
Ysera neglects to realize her hands are still working along as she openly stares at him now, and when the tip of her blade unexpectedly bites into her thumb she hisses through her teeth and cries out in pain.
“Ah–!”
She twists her hand to inspect the wound, but the scent of her blood draws Astarion's attention like a moth to a flame and he snatches her wrist without thinking and pulls her hand towards him. He wets his lips before pulling her injured thumb into his mouth, and despite the coldness of his body, the only thing she can feel is heat, heat, heat. The flames lick at her from within, pooling low in her belly.
“Astarion…”
Their eyes meet again, hers wide and wild and his, sharp and hungry. He says nothing and instead chooses to sweep his tongue over the pad of her thumb, groaning when he gathers a bead of her blood and swallows audibly. He sucks gently to coax more of it to the surface, his own hunger roaring like a caged beast.
Ysera's stammering heart is set free beneath her ribs, and she turns to face him.
“Astarion,” she says again, surprised by the blatant want that twists her words into a desperate plea. The heat building within her is stifling, and she shudders as a bead of sweat rolls down her spine. Her mind reels, and she's certain the only thing keeping her upright is the firm grasp Astarion still has on her wrist. His touch sears her like an icy brand, but instead of recoiling from it, she leans towards him, seeking more.
“I need you to kiss m–mmph!”
She hasn't even finished before Astarion has tugged her forward, crashing their lips together with enough force that it knocks the breath from her lungs. And oh, if their mouths don't slot together just right, as if this was the only logical course of action for the both of them.
And when Astarion growls into her mouth and fists a hand possessively in her hair, everything but the taste of him, the familiar scent of rosemary and bergamot that infiltrates her senses, and the feel of his body as he presses her into the wall and grinds his hips against her fades into oblivion.
The cave wall is rough and wet when her back collides with the porous rock, but his hand cushions her head with a gentleness she doesn't expect. But she wants him to be rough. She wants his hands on her, digging into her skin, his fangs in her throat, consuming her until there is nothing left.
More than anything, she wants to be his, in every possible meaning of the word.
One by one, the Dancing Lights are extinguished as Ysera loses her concentration on the spell. The cold stone tames some of the roaring flames inside her, but it's not nearly enough to quench the tendrils of heat that electrify her when Astarion roughly yanks her robes open and pushes them over her shoulders. A pleasant warmth rolls off her skin as his hands rove over her body, and she gets her wish when he pulls her shirt over her head and roughly palms her bare breasts. Her nipples stiffen under his thumbs as they brush across the sensitive peaks, and when Ysera throws back her head and lets out a pathetic whine, Astarion takes the invitation to bury his face against her throat.
He's still so hungry, and his mind is addled with a feeling he can't quite name that compels him to continue. He doesn't think, just feels, moving against her with mindless purpose. The pull of her blood is a sharp cry against his senses as it pounds through her veins like the sweetest succor. His lips are as soft as gossamer as he mouths at the marks on her neck, silently asking for permission to take what he needs from her.
Please, his lips say. I want you. I need you.
With her palms braced against the wall, Ysera struggles to remain upright, pressing her thighs together to grant herself some relief from the aching need that grows stronger by the second. Sparks surge from her hands and electrify the crisp, damp air, and Astarion jerks away from her neck when a jolt of lightning arcs between his lips and her throat.
Fear colors her expression, her eyes frantic as she begins to apologize for losing control of herself. Usually Astarion's presence alone is enough to corral her magic, but her thoughts have become too erratic and untethered for her to maintain her focus.
“Are you hurt?” she asks. She worries her lip between her teeth, casting her glance down at the ground. The lack of contact between them is agony.
“No,” Astarion answers, voice heavy with want. He clasps her chin between his fingers and calmly guides her attention back towards him. The sharp smile he wears barely conceals the points of his fangs as he smirks deviously at her.
He knows exactly what it does to her, lifting his brows playfully as she squirms impatiently beneath him and arches her back into the hand still hovering over her chest.
“And besides,” he drawls, “where's the fun if there isn't at least a little danger involved? You know how that gets me going, sweet girl.”
Before he nuzzles against her throat once more, she rolls her eyes and huffs emphatically. She does her best to force the strained cadence from her voice and deadpans, “Is it too late to ask you to get Halsin again?”
Even as she asks, she rolls her hips against him, breath catching in her throat when his fangs graze her skin.
“Please,” Astarion scoffs. “As if he could satisfy you even half as well as I do. You must set your standards a little higher, darling.”
Tell me you need me too.
His tongue laves against the raised punctures he's left on her neck from at least a dozen feedings, and despite herself she keens with a desperation that surprises even Astarion. The sound of it makes his cock throb in his pants.
“Well right now, I'm feeling quite unsatisfied,” she grumbles, panting as Astarion nips her throat and resumes kneading her breasts. He rolls her nipples between each of his thumbs and index fingers, pinching and pulling hard enough to draw another sob from her trembling lips. He can smell the arousal gathering between her legs, knows that if he were to dip his hand beneath the waistband of her pants that he would find her absolutely soaking.
“Are you not enjoying yourself, my dear?” he asks with perfect, feigned innocence. “Allow me to remedy that.”
He has just enough self control remaining to tear himself away from her throat, instead crouching just low enough to pull one of her nipples between his teeth and bite down on that instead. Ysera cries out as a wave of pleasurable pain erupts inside her, her entire body going rigid from the shock of it before she falls slack against the wall.
“Astarion…!”
Astarion soothes the mark he's left on her with a series of tortuously slow passes of his tongue, and just when her breathing calms he bites down again, eliciting the same response. Her cries rouse his cock even further, and the front of his trousers grows damp with precome.
“Oh, you like that, don't you?”
His voice cracks as he struggles to maintain his composure, but Ysera is too far gone to notice, focused solely on the feel of his hands and his mouth as they pleasure her ceaselessly. If he keeps touching her like this, she's certain she'll combust. It always feels good when he teases her like this, but there's something about this time that amplifies everything tenfold. Vaguely she remembers the mushrooms, but before her mind can coalesce on the topic at hand Astarion nips her skin again, hard enough to draw a trickle of her blood to the surface. He laps at it eagerly, impatiently waiting for her response.
“Y…yes,” she finally croaks, hands scrambling for purchase on the stone behind her. Her nails dig into the wall, muscles straining with the effort it takes to steady her shaky limbs.
“And to think you doubted me.”
Astarion can no longer resist the urge to fill her sweet cunt with his fingers, eager to wring as many desperate little cries as he can from her before she resorts to begging for his cock.
It's not a matter of if, but when. Of that much he is certain. Astarion can't recall a time when she's been so delightfully plaint beneath his hands. Nor can he remember feeling so warm, imbued with this strong a desire to have her screaming his name as he lays claim to her until his strength is completely spent. It dominates his every thought, guides his every action.
He's barely managed to tug Ysera's pants down to her knees and slip his hand between her legs before she's coming for him, the first press of his finger against her clit enough to send her spiraling. Her hands slip from the cave wall as she throws her arms around him, riding the fingers he shoves greedily into her spasming cunt to savor the way her walls flutter around them. His hand comes away slick with her arousal, and he makes a point of staring directly into her half-lidded eyes as he enjoys the taste of her.
“Again,” she groans. “Make me come again, Astarion. I need more.”
Astarion swallows thickly and sinks to his knees before her with little flourish. Ysera watches his pupils dilate as his throat bobs, eyes trained on the spot between her legs. He tugs her pants the rest of the way off, discarding them somewhere in the darkness behind them.
She parts her legs to bare her slick center to him. Her cunt clenches in anticipation, the promise of his tongue bringing her the relief she needs making her mouth fall open as her breathing grows ragged.
They exchange a heated glance. Astarion's eyes darken and his lips twist into a smirk before he descends upon her, sinking his fingers into the soft flesh of her thighs and tugging her hips closer to his face.
He feasts on her like a starving man, groaning the moment he tastes her arousal on his tongue. His lips wrap around her clit as he suckles at the tender bundle of nerves, tongue flicking in quick, teasing strokes.
Ysera cries out as her body shudders violently. She tries to buck her hips but Astarion's hands hold her firmly in place, pressed against his eager mouth. His eyes flick up to look at her along the length of her body, pinning her when she meets his intense gaze. They are the color of vibrant rubies, simmering like the embers of a fire that's waiting to be coaxed back into a conflagration.
“Astarion!” She whimpers his name like a litany, again and again, thrusting her hands into his hair. They weave through his curls and she holds him tight, throwing her head back as another wave of ecstasy rips through her. His tongue laps at her center, parting her slick folds as he tastes and tastes and tastes her.
“So good… you're so good, Astarion…”
The sound of Ysera's praise is music to his ears, and his cock throbs almost painfully between his legs. When an undignified groan slips from his own lips, Astarion shoves a clumsy hand inside his pants and tugs his cock free of its confines, fingers wrapped tightly around the base. The next moan he releases between her legs as he pumps himself is downright obscene.
Ysera cants her hips upwards to entice Astarion's attention to where she needs him most, and he willingly complies. He inhales sharply before pressing his nose against her clit, face angled so he can thrust his tongue inside her cunt. With his face buried against her, she writhes and trembles like a leaf in the wind, reduced to a whimpering mess within seconds. Her hands grope blindly at him, alternating between carding appreciatively through his hair and tugging on his roots.
A whirlwind of sensation overtakes her. The cave echoes with her pleasure, choked sobs that taper into high-pitched whines. Thinking feels like wading through deep water. Her mind feels sluggish and hazy, delirious with pleasure as she grits out the syllables of his name.
“Ahh…star… gonna, I'm gonna… oh, gods…”
Astarion lets her grind her hips against his face, curling his tongue inside her as he swiftly brings her to completion for the second time. He prides himself on how quickly she shatters on his tongue with a strangled moan, thighs clamped tightly around his head as she rides him with every wild jerk of her hips. He jerks his cock with rapid corkscrew motions, rocking his hips into his hand and chasing the blinding pleasure that rises up to meet his eager thrusts.
Before he can stop himself, he spills himself over his hand and down the front of his pants, grunting as he works himself through the cresting wave of his orgasm. His cock pulses and still hangs heavy and full when he releases it, just as hard as he'd been when they started.
When Ysera is satisfied, her entire body goes slack and her knees buckle so she's supported only by the wall at her back and the hand Astarion still has clamped around her hips.
He pulls away, lips and chin glistening with her slick, and his skin almost seems to shine in the dim blue light from the bioluminescent mushrooms that grow around them. Ysera's chest heaves as she pants for breath, eyes falling between his legs as she finally sees the mess he's made of himself, both of his and her own making. She feels a tinge of dismay that he didn't finish inside her, but when he gets to his feet, the way his cock still bobs between his legs and presses into her stomach when he leans in to kiss her reignites something feral inside of her.
“You're not done, are you?” she asks shyly. Astarion huffs a laugh and they share another kiss, Ysera releasing a soft moan when she recognizes the taste of her on his tongue. She lets him kiss her for what feels like an eternity, slow and sensual, until the strength returns to her weary limbs. He pulls away only when she needs to breathe, pressing his mouth against the shell of her ear.
“Not even close, my sweet. Now be a good girl and turn around for me, won't you?”
Ysera obeys without further encouragement, pressing her breasts against the wall and hissing as the heat from her body leeches into the slick stone. The texture of it is rough against her nipples, and she bites her lip and waits impatiently as Astarion finishes undressing behind her. She chances a glance over her shoulder, blatantly ogling his naked form as he slides up close behind her. He nestles his cock in the curve of her ass, leaning in to nip playfully at her ear.
“What do you think?” he purrs. “Can you give me another one, darling?” His breath fans out over her spine and she shudders, nodding. “Uh-huh,” she says softly. “Gods, I don't even know if that will be enough. But the others –”
“Can wait,” Astarion finishes for her with a snarl. “Forget them.” He flattens his hand against the space between her shoulder blades and shoves her forward, pinning her flush against the wall. Coaxing her legs open with his other hand, he lines his cock up with her entrance, brushing just the tip against her. Ysera wriggles beneath him, tail circling his leg and holding fast as she begs him to fuck her.
Astarion clicks his tongue and weaves his fingers into her hair, wrapping the strands around his wrist to give him leverage.
“What did I say before about manners, Ysera?” he says sternly. The harsh, guttural tone of his voice nearly brings her to her knees again, and she stammers a breathy, “P-please.”
“Very good.”
Astarion yanks her head back at the same time he plunges into her waiting cunt, bowing her back as he buries himself to the hilt with a single, brutal thrust. She cries out so prettily for him, walls clamping down around his cock like a vise.
With her neck at this angle, she finds herself staring upside down at him, transfixed by the way his fangs peek out from behind his lips as he lets out a satisfied groan. There is nothing gentle about the way he immediately begins to pound into her, brows knit tightly as he gazes hungrily at her upturned face. Astarion bends to kiss her again, caging her against the wall as he ravages her body with every sharp snap of his hips. Ysera moans wantonly into his open mouth, blinded by the newfound pleasure that courses through her body like an untamed wildfire.
She doesn't have the time to lament the absence of his lips when he pulls away for the briefest moment to slot his mouth against her neck once more, free hand roaming to the base of her tail. He strokes the ridges there with practiced precision, fingers curling around to press against the underside at the small of her back. Another bolt of white-hot lightning surges through her and she thrashes wildly, stilling only when she feels the press of his fangs on her neck.
“Yes,” she tells him in a broken, murmured plea. “Yes!”
When his fangs tear into her throat, it's heaven. They both release a languid moan, and Astarion tightens the hand in her hair as he swallows the blood pouring from the place he's bitten her with long, greedy pulls. He never stops fucking her, reinvigorated by the rich crimson that stains his mouth and spills over her shoulders in rivers of red. Lightheaded and more aroused than she's ever been, Ysera's moans grow unintelligible, nothing more than a series of syllables strung together between her gasping breaths.
Her hand works its way between her legs, and her hips buck the moment her fingers graze her oversensitive clit. It almost hurts when she circles the taut bud, but she wants to come for him again, to please him by doing what he asked of her. Each time he surges forward his cock slams home, brushing against her most sensitive parts. She swears her blood has somehow made him even harder; he's certainly drunk enough to do so, if such a thing is possible.
When Astarion unlatches from her throat, his face mouth is tinged with red, a few lingering drops of blood dripping onto her back as he anchors his hands on her hips, tight enough to bruise. And she wants it, hopes she'll see the marks he's left on her come morning. The evidence of their coupling that she currently has no qualms about displaying publicly. Perhaps she'll think better of it when she comes to her senses, but for now, all she needs to know is how hopelessly, irrecoverably wonderful he feels inside her, filling her to the brim with every delicious inch of his cock.
“Darling,” Astarion moans, and the strain in his voice tells her he's close. His thrusts are growing more staggered by the second, and she can hear the obscene sounds of their bodies joining each time his hips collide with hers. “You are perfect. Every time.”
It's all she can do to moan her reply, squeezing her eyes shut to drown out everything that isn't him. Inside her. On her. Thrusting, biting, praising every last bit of her.
“You want it, don't you?” he murmurs. “You want me to come inside that tight little cunt of yours, isn't that right?”
“I…”
She can't think straight, unable to form even the most basic thought. But Astarion is relentless.
“Say it,” he commands, brushing her hand aside to tease her clit with his own expert fingers. “Tell me how badly you need it.”
“I want you to come inside me,” she parrots back, voice dying in her throat when he lets go of her hip to tug her hair again. After a moment, she cries out, “I need you to come! Please, Astarion!”
Satisfied, Astarion rolls the soft pads of his fingers against her aching clit, and when she screams his name and comes for the third time the rhythmic pulsing of her walls is finally enough to bring him over the edge with her. With one last thrust he feels his cock erupt, filling her exactly as he promised he would. It spills down her thighs when he pulls out of her, both their limbs sore and heavy with exhaustion as they both come down from their high. Ysera slumps against the wall, and Astarion catches her before her knees collide with the ground.
“Gods,” she murmurs, vision swimming when she opens her eyes. She chooses instead to keep them closed, keeping most of her dizziness at bay. It does nothing to keep her from easing herself to the ground, unwilling to bother with the effort it would take to stay standing.
“What the fuck was that?” she asks, leaning back against the cave wall. Now that the heat in her body has started to subside, she welcomes the cool, rough texture of the stone. “We've never – I mean it's never … felt like that before.
“Those spores,” Astarion hypothesizes. “You breathed them in too, didn't you?”
“Ahh… and here I thought it was just your natural charm,” she teases.
“You certainly seemed charmed all the other times,” he counters, reaching for his shirt and pulling it back over his head. He opens his mouth to say something more, but the distant sound of another voice cuts him off.
“Astarion? Ysera?”
Gale.
“Shit,” Astarion curses wryly, fumbling with his pants as he tugs them back on. “Meddling old wizard.” He extends a hand to Ysera. “Can you stand, darling?”
“Nope,” she says apologetically, smiling weakly up at him. “I'm pretty sure you broke me.”
“Then I guess it can't be helped. Come on, then.”
Astarion helps her back to her feet. Her pants are only halfway on and her shirt is on backwards when Astarion tugs it back over her head, but when she pulls her robes back on it's hard to notice anything is amiss. What's more difficult to conceal, however, are the marks on her neck and the blood on Astarion's face, though they do their best to cover the evidence as best they can.
Ysera hesitates for a moment when Astarion motions for her to hop onto his back, crouching low so it's easier for her to manage. She looks at him incredulously, but as Gale's voice draws nearer, they're quickly running out of options.
“Fine,” she concedes, stumbling forward and holding onto him as tightly as she can, just in time for Gale to round the corner, trailed by his own set of Dancing Lights.
“Ah! There you are,” Gale says, relief evident in his easy smile. “Everyone was quite worried about the two of you. Is everything all right?” He scans them in the dim light, but thankfully even with his cantrip his human eyes can only see so much.
“Yes, obviously,” Astarion answers for the both of them, gesturing to Gale's book and the bag of mushrooms still sitting on the ground near where they'd left them however long ago.
“That's what you wanted, right?”
Gale ignores the mushrooms, and Ysera feels his eyes rove over her while wondering what he must be thinking.
“I picked soooo many mushrooms,” she says, hoping he'll take the bait. “I was so exhausted by the time Astarion found me, and he was nice enough to offer to carry me back to camp. Isn't that right, Astarion?”
“Hmm?” Astarion says. “Oh, yes. That's right.”
Gale furrows his brow, clearly unconvinced. “Are you certain that –”
“Don't ask questions you aren't prepared to have answered, wizard,” Astarion interjects. He hoists Ysera higher onto his shoulders and walks towards the mouth of the cave, leaving Gale behind to retrieve his book and Ysera's bag.
During the entire walk to camp, they can feel Gale's discerning gaze on them, and it's likely that he suspects what really delayed them from returning to camp, although he's tactful enough not to say anything about it.
By the time they make it back, Ysera has fallen asleep on Astarion's back, nothing but dead weight that he's struggling to carry after expending so much of his own energy. Shadowheart and the others immediately look his way, but he returns their nosy stares with a venomous look of his own, slipping wordlessly into Ysera's tent to put her to bed.
After he makes certain she's snugly tucked away, he leans back against the crate she uses as a nightstand, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest as she slumbers peacefully. He drifts off after some time, roused only when he feels something tugging at his sleeve.
“Astarion?” Ysera's voice is small and sleepy. “You could stay the night, you know,” she says, scooting over to offer him a place beside her beneath the blankets.
Panic grips him suddenly and he shakes his head. “A lovely thought, but I should get going. I wouldn't want to disturb your rest, after all.”
“It's no trouble at all,” she says insistently. “Don't be a stranger. Not after… all that. My tent is much better anyway.”
“I…” A fierce battle of conflicting emotions seems to war within him, and Ysera is about to tell him it's okay if he'd rather leave before he nods silently, laying beside her in the soft nest of bed rolls and blankets she's made into a makeshift bed. It smells of her, and some of the tension in his body fades away as he rolls onto his side and closes her eyes. Behind him, Ysera beams with delight, barely unable to contain the excited swishing of her tail as she snuggles happily into her blankets.
“Good night, Astarion,” she murmurs behind her smile.
Astarion is quiet for a moment, and she thinks he might have already slipped into his trance before the sound of his voice drifts across the tent.
“Good night, darling. Sweet dreams.”
#HOLY SHIT I DID IT#idk how this became 8k but uh...#surprise#lmao#astarion#bg3#astarion smut#astarion x tav#astarion x female oc#bg3 fanfiction#kinktober#kinktober 2024#my writing#ysera#kinktober day 10#divider by: saradika-graphics
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Dragons are actually amazing blacksmiths and pyrographers. They’ve spent their whole lives learning how to control their inner flame and how they externalise it, after all
The Dwarven Blacksmith industry, which held a monopoly over all forged items before dragoncraft became more widely accepted, hates how the recent surge in popularity of the Draconic Smithing Confederation has started to cut into their profits, and so started spreading rumours about how dragons are actually these super evil, super greedy, creatures
The human monarchies, who had always been in need of an external enemy to distract from the fact that they were monarchies and thus inherently repressive, willingly bought into and began peddling this lie, picking fights with local dragon kingdoms and using their retaliatory attacks as excuses to further demonise their race in their propaganda pieces
Because of discriminatory actions such as these, certain species of Dragon - most notably the solid-colour dragons, who were not only less marketable than their metallic cousins, but also worshipped a different, more primal, god - were driven to form a coalition with the Demons, who had undergone a similar pogrom in the past and had thus been driven from their homes on the surface down into their ancestral homeland of Hell
This, of course, resulted in more hateful propaganda being churned out against them, with several Metallic Dragon rulers jumping at the chance to condemn their Tiamat-worshipping “heathen” brethren
The Drow, a species of elves who had undergone a similar religious schism as the Metallic and Solid -Color Dragons (with them worshipping Lolth, a god of grace and deceit from the polytheistic elven pantheon before the human-made religion of the Pelori, who worship the Dawnfather and his kin, took over most High Elven kingdoms ), began getting nervous on seeing this, rightfully fearing that their High cousins would start to get ideas on how they could deal with the Drow
So, jumping the gun, they joined the Condemned Coalition, and earned themselves a blackened reputation for it
Over time, more and more minority and marginalised races would come to join the Coalition, including the orcish followers of Gruumsh One-Eye “the Ruiner”, an orc prophet who preached against the growing idolisation of human and elven aesthetics in orc communities, and pushed for a return to the polytheistic and self-sufficient days of orc society, for which he was branded an extremist and a terrorist.
Goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears, who had for centuries worshipped Bane, the god of war, suddenly found themselves under attack from the elves, who used Bane’s mythical enmity with the High Elven god Corellon (a member of the Pelori pantheon) to instigate a series of reforms that further marginalised goblinoid communities, already unwelcome in circles that saw them as inherently untrustworthy.
This, unbeknownst to them, was in part because of the Drows’ defection to the Condemned Coalition, as the High and Wood Elves, eager to seem League-friendly in the fallout of their cousins opposing the League, began cracking down on “mistrusted” races like the goblinoids to earn favor on the Council
Thus, they, along with the yuan-ti, whose god Zehir was undergoing similar oppression, joined the Coalition
Artefacts from the SDSC (the Solid-Color branch of the DSC) and the demonic smitheries (originally founded by the demon King Asmodeus, whose wars against human and elven encroachment got him branded a villain) still exist, and still circulate, but are now seen as “demon’s wear” and “lewd and corruptive”
Meanwhile, the MDSC has formed a cartel with the DBI to monopolise the industries of smithery and Artifact-creation. With the exception of ludicrously expensive wizard and elven artisanal crafts, the average adventurer is usually kitted out in MDSC or DBI wear (sometimes, to inflate their sales, the SDSC and demon smitheries will attempt to pass their creations off as MDSC or DBI make, but as this provides the League of Light with ample ammo against the dragons and demons, most dragon and demon leaders have instituted a ban on such acts, as set out in the Condemned Charter)
In addition, the spread of the Pelori faith has led to it’s splintering, the formerly monotheistic, Dawnfather-dedicated, faith transforming organically into something more polytheistic, as aristocratic High Elven families and rich DBI families lobbied for their racial gods - ones like Corellon and Moradin - to be placed on equal status with Pelor the Dawnfather
This has led to a schism within the Pelori, between the Archists - who follow the “arch” teachings of “Pelor above all gods” - and the Polytheists, who accept other gods beside Pelor.
This has negatively affected the so far human-led Wizardic and Clerical Institutes, however, as all races and all religions have now been given a free pass to challenge human supremacy in these jobs, the study of clerichood no longer requiring submission to Pelor, and the study of wizardry no longer requiring that you be either an Archist Pelori or unassociated with the hagiographic (as Corellon and other non-human gods were so far considered solely saints) sects of Pelori
This has, predictably, led to controversy
Far more controversial, however, is the recent New Age fad of humans, elves and dwarves worshipping Condemned gods like Lolth, Zehir, Asmodeus or Gruumsh (Asmodeus and Gruumsh having been deified by their home race after their deaths, and diablified by the League of Light).
In addition, there is a push for reclamation among members of “border races”, still marginalised but accepted by the League, like the Metallic Dragons, the High Elves, and the more human-looking Tieflings, to reclaim the gods of the Pelori pantheon who were assimilated from older pantheons
(For instance, Corellon was once part of the same pantheon (the Seldarine) as the orc god Baghtru, later conflated with Gruumsh, as well as the goblinoid gods Maghlubiyet and Bane, and was often seen as the counterpart to the Drow god Lolth. However, as his cults made up most of High Elf aristocracy, when Pelori swept into the Elvenlands, it was easy for him to claim a place in the Pelori pantheon. Similar things happened to Bahamut, Moradin, and most of the non-Pelor parts of the Pelori pantheon)
Known as the Reformists, there are suspicions amongst the League’s top members that these groups - mostly anarchist and progressive in nature - are covertly providing aid to the exiled Condemned. However, as their entire power base rests on looking benevolent and gracious, they cannot crack down on them without probably cause
This has, predictably, not stopped certain settlements from banning the worship of the Condemned gods entirely, leading to them being branded “fundamentalists” and being disavowed from the League.
Several of the more belligerent monarchs of these repressive states were branded as “supporters of the Condemned”, their leaders put on trial for “trying to legitimate the exiles by purposefully persecuting them, that their lies against the League may seem as truth”.
Afterwards, they would be treated like any other noble on trial - depending on their standing with the central power of the League - the Sunlit Council - they were either freed or, in more extreme cases, where the League would benefit from it, they were exiled, their lands stripped from them and granted to League-supporting heirs who were allowed to rule on behalf of the Sunlit Council. If there was no such heir in the immediate family of the exile, the lands would be claim by the Council and assimilated into the lands of the nearest League aristocrat
Notably, such mechanics extended across the League’s lands - if you were the ruler of a state on bad terms with the Council, they wouldn’t usurp you openly, but should you die without a male biological heir to carry your line, the League would take over your lands “to defend it from invasion”, and eventually incorporate it fully into their own lands.
The lands of the Yuan-ti received an even heavier blow, as their religion - that of the serpent god Zehir, was demonised almost completely, with yuan-ti purebloods- common in human settlements - being recast as temptresses and manipulators, and the less humanlike yuan-ti being made to seem like monsters and abominations, nicknamed “the worms of the desert” by a high-ranking member of the Sunlit Council.
Through violence and threats, the more monstrous yuan-ti were driven into the wide desert that bound the Infernal Gates, while the more humanoid purebloods were often tolerated in League lands, if not accepted
The deserts that the yuan-ti fled to are known by two names - the yuan-ti call it the Zehirite Sands, where the serpent god crafted the first of their kind out of sand, poison, and shadow, and where the dunes still shift with his breath.
The Zehirite Sands are treated as one vast, natural temple—rituals are performed under open skies, and even the venomous creatures of the desert—serpents, scorpions, sand-striders—are considered sacred, their movements used for omens and auguries.
To the League, they are the Infernal Wastes, a vast stretch of barren land between them and the Infernal Gates that open into Hell, treated as a natural prison and romanticised as an exotic “testing ground” for heroes, and the birthplace of the still-marginalised, if tolerated, purebloods
However, as time passed, the purebloods, more willing to accept League rule and as a rule more humanoid than their monstrous brethren, began to be more and more accepted by the League and the Council, with them disavowing the “wicked” Zehir, and taking up the worship of the storm god Kord. For this, the non-human yuan-ti, who began calling themselves malisons, started to resent them
Things came to a head when the King of the human settlement of Rhell performed a pogrom on the purebloods (for which he was exiled by the Council. His entire bloodline was denied the crown, and Rhell was assimilated into the lands of the High Elven Councillor Venreal ), setting off a chain reaction of dominant races starting to propagandise against the purebloods, treating them as “monsters trying to be human”
Several purebloods attempted to return to the yuan-ti deserts of their ancestral origin to escape this, but, as they had been gone to the League’s lands for centuries, the malisons showed resistance to their presence, eventually erupting into open warfare
The League, however, wanting a League-loyal buffer state between the Gates and their lands, threw in its lot behind the pureblood armada, and, little by little, a pureblood state was carved out of the malison desert, much to the resentment of the Condemned.
Currently, the state of Kordson is bound on every side by malison kingdoms, even as it slowly pushes out the few malisons left within its own borders. With the League unwilling to step in to help defend it for fear of provoking the Condemned armadas, and the Condemned equally unwilling to aid the malison kingdoms, it exists in a perpetual Cold War scenario with it’s neighbours
Within its borders, however, it is a very different sight. To the purebloods, the Zehirite Sands, or as they call it, the Thundered Soils, is promised to them by right of their reverence for Kord. Thus, in their worldview, the malisons are outsiders who never belonged in the first place
Kordson’s special militia, the Thunder Cohort, has thus developed an unfortunate and sadistic quirk of sweeping into unarmed malison villages and proceeding to commit massacres, building up the pressure at Kordson’s borders by enraging local malison states
The malison resistance (or, as Kordson calls them, terrorist groups) - most commonly displayed in groups like the Zehirite Army and the Serpent’s Fangs - is supported by the Condemned, the same way the Cohort is supported by the League, making the malison-pureblood war essentially a proxy war between the two powers
More controversy has arisen due to the fact that Kordson has effectively captured the borders of the Zehirite holy site of the Sandstruck Rock - a vast standing stone said to mark the place Zehir first created the yuan-ti and Naga common ancestor.
They have historically used their control over the region to deny yuan-ti pilgrims the right to enter the Rock’s vicinity, though certain more liberal Kordsonite leaders lobbied to allow it. With all eyes on the Sands, people started whispering about the League allowing this religious suppression, causing the Sunlit Council to force Kordson’s hand by internationalising the Rock, declaring it “under the League protection”, and allowing Zehirite pilgrims in - for a tax, of course
#dungeons and dragons#dragon#dnd#dwarves#elves#humans#tolkien#fantasy#worldbuilding#writing prompt#writeblr#creative writing#writers on tumblr#pyrography#blacksmith#dnd oc#dnd5e#dnd campaign#dnd homebrew#original writing#book writing#i write#on writing#writers#writer#writing#writers and poets
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week of june 16th, 2024
these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)
aries: waxing cardinal vibe can be tense for you. mars is still bolstering up your resources, and it's a good time to move or start looking at new places to live, or new roommates, but you may otherwise have some difficulties at home, or reconciling your private life with your public persona.
taurus: the first stirrings of cancer season are lovely for your local community and neighborhood. time with a sibling if you have one is auspicious. either way, don't let the quality go to waste; you're not always so sociable, but you can quietly contribute to the world right around you or spend time with your local wildlife if you don't feel like participating face to face with people.
gemini: this week the world begins to slip from gemini season into cancer season. it's good to take a break from time to time and stay home to recharge. you become, at least temporarily, a financial wizard.
cancerians: several ingresses to your sign occur during this week. then a full moon in capricorn straight after the solstice (actually, for you especially, it starts a bit early.) this blesses (or shakes up, as needed) your relationships of all varieties but also your relationship with yourself. emotions may run high, but this is natural for you and you know what to do with them.
leo: on the one hand the intensely watery vibes may be uncomfortably vulnerable for you, or may sap your energy on some level. but on the other hand the solstice certainly affects solar-ruled you positively. if you feel a bit lethargic there's likely a good reason, so honor any need to slow down that you feel.
virgo: spend some quality time with your friends, or at least a social network. it doesn't have to be a big deal or a party, in fact smaller intimate meals (preferably home-cooked) are ideal for this. but prioritize your connections this week. even a friendly heartfelt text will be helpful.
libra: the focus of the season starts to migrate from academic and philosophical endeavors to perhaps crowning achievements or at least recognition for jobs you've done well. not everyone can do the things you do and it's nice to be seen! but don't rest too long on your laurels; the reputation can be built upon for even more benefit.
scorpio: overwhelmingly watery vibes cause many to feel like they are drowning but for you it is like you are at home, granted your home may be at the bottom of the sea. the "overwhelming" quality fits with the "intensity" your sign is so often accused of. it is deep. nothing shallow or too fanciful will do.
sagittarius: relationships you've developed in recent weeks reach a moment of truth in the coming weeks, especially this coming week. if it's been constructed to last, it deepens from now. if it was flimsy from the start, it begins here to fade away.
capricorn: this week's full moon right around the solstice highlights your self-relationship axis. we all know it's annoying and not even always true to hear people say that you have to love yourself before your relationships can coalesce nicely but in this lunar cycle, that's the way that it is.
aquarius: if you have been working on your routines, rituals, or spiritual side, this week's full moon and solstice can bring your efforts to fruition. if you have not, it is a good time to start, especially to begin practices in your daily life and habits like dietary changes, exercise plans, or breaking an addictive/compulsive behavior.
pisces: you're known for always being in your feelings or at least on some other plane of existence but this week may be extra mushy and emotional for piscean types. don't worry about it, live in it authentically, feel it, and let it go. you don't have to hoard your emotions.
#astrology#weekly horoscopes#weekly horoscope#horoscopes#horoscope#signs#zodiac#aries#taurus#gemini#cancer#leo#virgo#libra#scorpio#sagittarius#capricorn#aquarius#pisces
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Non-Exhaustive List of Soulmate Fics: Drarry
Okay, I'm bored so I'm compiling my favorite soulmate fics. Here's the Drarry edition:
such a softer sin by therewascourfeyrac
Summary:
After Draco meets Harry Potter, he's left with two tattoos, one on each wrist. One for a soul mate, one for his enemy. He's never known any one else who has the same name on both wrists.
Imagine A Man by orphan_account
Summary:
Harry has to trust people more than he'd like to, so when a man lies to him about having matching soul marks to get Harry into bed, he's determined to never let that happen again. When he meets a stranger lawyer at the local not long after, Harry decides to enlist his family's help to tell whether or not Draco Malfoy really does have a matching mark or not. If only his family wasn't so, utterly hopeless.
Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop
Summary:
Harry doesn’t mind that so many Slytherins from his year have returned to finish their NEWTs, really he doesn’t. It’s just – do they have to be so friendly? He’s not prejudiced, really he’s not. It’s just – they’ve got to be up to something, right? Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him. When he’s hit by an illegal love-spell though, Harry finds he has more to worry about than whether or not Blaise Zabini actually wants to be his friend. For if everyone affected has been blessed – or cursed, by the look on Malfoy’s face – with a magical tattoo revealing the name of their soulmate, what does it mean that Harry’s skin remains completely bare?
Kiss Me Not by DorthyAnn
Summary:
Sometimes a witch or wizards magical signature is so completely incompatible with another that they repel one another like magnets. On the other hand, if two magical signatures mesh well together, well there are no stronger relationships in all the world. In a sample of a thousand people, the average witch or wizard will be slightly repelled by four or five people and strongly repelled by only one, at the most. The opposite is true for attraction. But Harry Potter can't kiss anyone at all.
you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass
Summary:
When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want. He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.
hello goodbye ('twas nice to know you) by tamerofdarkstars
Summary:
Draco Malfoy thinks he might know whose thoughts are scrawling themselves on his skin, but that's crazy. Impossible, even. It has to be a mistake. - Self-indulgent soulmate AU where the thoughts of your soulmate inscribe themselves on your skin in a shifting magic tattoo
Vortex by xanthippe74
Summary:
“Don’t worry, my dearest one,” Draco’s mother told him when he confided his worries to her. When he was old enough to feel the pangs of adolescent longing, but still too young to sense the storm gathering around them. “Magic will overcome any distance or obstacles to bring two soulmates together when the time is right. Circumstances will arise that steer them in the right direction; strange coincidences will make their paths cross again and again. Then the most wondrous moment arrives, when you both realize that your soulmate, your perfect match, stands before you, and from that day forward your hearts will be one.” Ten years after that conversation, the idea of perfectly-matched soulmates feels more like a curse than a blessing to Draco. Who would want a soulmate who was a schoolyard bully, a Death Eater, and a convicted felon? Certainly not Harry Potter. And Draco is determined to take this secret to the grave.
Together, Alone by chibaken
Summary:
Draco thinks his Soulmark timer isn't going to appear at all. But then it does— and there's only a minute and seventeen seconds on the clock.
Rorschach by gracerene
Summary:
Harry never gave much thought to Malfoy's soulmark. But that was before he caught a glimpse. Now it's all he can think about.
How 'Potter' became 'Harry' because of a Seeker's game by mfingenius
Summary:
Post-War, Hogwarts Eighth Year Soulmate AU where an animal that identifies your soulmate appears somewhere on your body. Draco's is a stag, and he's been lying to everyone and saying it's a snake because he knows no one would approve of a former death eater being Harry Potter's soulmate. Harry inevitably finds out.
Mine by Craftybadger1234
Summary:
You are born with your soulmate's first words to you written in black on your palm. They fade to silver when you hear them. Draco's have been silver for as long as he can remember.
All of Forever by Craftybadger1234
Summary:
Harry is bummed about having a soul mate when really all he wants is Draco. Before starting his search for the someone else with the matching mark, he decides he can have one night - just one - to enjoy all that he can of Draco.
#harry potter#harry james potter#draco malfoy#drarry#harry x draco#harry/draco#rec list#soulmate aus#fandom soulmates#browneyes shares fanfic#recs
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Imagine Stardew Valley Player being unaffected by anything in the factory. You grow accustomed and jaded to weird/terrifying creatures when you fight monster for hours on end when they show up on your farm, or when you try to go mine.
Playing Stardew Valley, I always chose a cat as my pet. Catnap/Dogday would be so smug, depending on which pet you chose, that you prefer cats/dogs. Also just the toys fawning over the fur babies. As for the farm animals, the sheep fear/respect Dogday greatly, and the horses and such animals are oddly ok with Catnap's presence, as they actually like/get along with cats irl. Etc.
Also-
Dogday: How are you doing today Angel?
Player: Gotta go talk to the wizard and barter with the sewer monster.
Dogday: W h a t -
yeyeyeyeyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
you get me!
it's fun to think about whether or not the player is established in Pelican Town before or after the factory events. Before, they're friendly and more talkative, then suddenly they're reclusive and don't allow anyone on the farm anymore. Perhaps they can spin a bit of a (not entirely untrue) yarn about finding survivors in the factory but they're so terrified of other people that anyone coming onto the farm will make them so upset and such like that.
Or maybe they just show up one day and while there are whispers and glimpses (mostly from Pierre who is the only one to see the player regularly), the new farmer is a cryptid and few have looked upon their visage.
Also, just the absurdity of being the farmer in Stardew. Looking poor Dogday, the victim of so much, in the eye and telling him, dead serious, you need to go talk to the local wizard about communing with the spirits of the forest. . .
He loves and respects his angel so much. They've gone off the deep end from overworking.
Now Catnap. . . Catnap is fun too. He loves the farm life, basking in the sun and seeing the animals. Sometimes he'll even help you with farm chores, and it feels so. . . domestic and normal that he grows a little jollier. He feels a little less like a monster.
Poppy loves the animals because she can ride on all of them. You've found her asleep atop the cows and sheep so many times. Kissy likes the smaller animals, the chickens and ducks and rabbits. The birds especially like her back, and happily follow her around in a cute parade.
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A Fairy Tale Rabbit Hole

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is the movie that it started it all for Disney Animation and it's the most influential fairy tale movie ever. Its tropes and its tone still inspires fairy tale media to this day, either as parodies, or homages.
But what less people know is that Walt Disney was inspired to make this movie because of a peculiar silent movie that he watched when he was a teenager.
That movie was Snow White from 1916. Its writer, Winthrop Ames, adapted it from his own Broadway play. An example of American fairy tale theater.

This kept me thinking.
The Wizard of Oz is one of the most iconic fantasy films of all time, and it was made in direct response to Snow White. What people don't know is that the scene where Glinda saves the gang from the deadly poppies with a snowstorm came straight from a fairy tale musical from 1902. It came from The Wizard of Oz, a fairy tale musical "extravaganza", with direct input from L. Frank Baum, only two years after the original novel.

Actually, stage musicals seem to take a slight part in the creation of Oz. The Marvellous Land of Oz, the sequel, seems to be inspired by this stage culture. General Jinjur and her army dresses like chorus girls, Ozma/Tip may be inspired by the crossdressing in children roles, and this was the book's dedication:
"To those excellent good fellows and comedians David C. Montgomery and Frank A. Stone whose clever personations of the Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow have delighted thousands of children throughout the land, this book is gratefully dedicated by THE AUTHOR"
These were actors of the 1902 stage show.

Two years later, on 1904 Peter and Wendy premiered. This play is also one of the most famous children stories ever. Walt Disney himself acted as Peter in a local production of it and Tinkerbell quickly became a mascot for the studio.
This all led me to think more about fairy tale theater specifically.
Since the ending of the 18th century and through the 19th century, a genre of stage show developed through Europe. It was mostly comedic and light-hearted, mainly inspired by fairy tales, and it was geared towards children and families. It involved lavish fantasy spectacles told through operas, ballets, and what we today would call "musical theater".
It had many different names and variations depending on the country.
On England, it evolved through the pantomimes and it became a Christmas tradition.

In Russian, it was mainly through ballet, called the ballet-féerie, often considered a lower-class, more commercialized entertainment than traditional ballet. Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty and The Nutcracker are among some of them. Sleeping Beauty would later inspire Disney's telling of the story.

In France they were called Féerie, and it was a mix of music, dancing, pantomime, acrobatics, and stage effects. It influenced the development of burlesque, musical comedy and film.

From Wikipedia:
With his 1899 film version of Cinderella, Georges Méliès brought the féerie into the newly developing world of motion pictures. The féerie quickly became one of film's most popular and lavishly mounted genres in the early years of the twentieth century, with such pioneers as Edwin S. Porter, Cecil Hepworth, Ferdinand Zecca, and Albert Capellani contributing fairy-tale adaptations in the féerie style or filming versions of popular stage féeries like Le Pied de mouton, Les Sept Châteaux du diable, and La Biche au bois. The leader in the genre, however, remained Méliès,[37] who designed many of his major films as féeries and whose work as a whole is intensely suffused with the genre's influence.[38]

Once you realize a huge chunk of fairy tale media has roots in family friendly stage shows from 19th century, a lot of it started making sense.
The focus on romance, the focus on damsels in distress, prevalence of lighter tones, the everlasting connection to music and dance.
They may be the main reason why some fairy tales are more famous than others. Some became source material for a continuous stream of operas, operettas, musical extravaganzas, ballets, plays, and others simply not.
And besides the Victorian Era storybooks that bowdlerized fairy tales for children, I think this whole genre of the theater was responsible to firmly establish fairy tales as a child friendly media, decades before Disney ever released Snow White to cash in that nostalgia.

If you have something to add or if I just got something wrong, feel free to correct me.
@ariel-seagull-wings @princesssarisa @adarkrainbow @the-blue-fairie @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @natache @tamisdava2 @thealmightyemprex
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Hello Bean! To the distraction question! What do you think about Kyle and Gale? I think it could be a working, but maybe slightly off-kilter combination <3
Hello!!! Yay a crossover question!
Oooh Gale and Kyle sound goooood. In my default bg3xCoD thoughts I usually picture Kyle with Wyll (because they have very similar vibes, humour and moral journeys of wanting to do good but having to choose some shady ways to do it because they don't have power otherwise) or with Lae'zel (because out of everyone in 141 Kyle is the only one with enough patience, charisma and smarts to actually be able to build a connection with her instead of just exchanging jabs or whatever). But with Gale it actually works really good. Also this is like in my usual setting of 141 getting thrown into Faerûn during a mission gone wrong.
They're both wicked smart and sassy. That's how they initially connect, I think; Gale gets sarcastic with Soap (he can't handle Ghost, sorry, that man will destroy our poor wizard; and Price probably does not engage too much cuz he's out there thinking now the hell he's gonna bring his men back home) and Gaz retorts, game recognizes game, they can operate this snobbish, intellectual humour and it leads to them just having conversations. Kyle is a listener; that's how he gains advantage over everyone around him, smart, alert, well-versed in social engineering. Gale is a yapper who's way too clumsy in human interactions after his long lasting solitude, plus he's easily charmed and kinda needs someone to hold his hand while he does scary steps out of the abusive relationship. Kyle is a noble knight at heart, I can imagine him getting outraged by Mysrta. I think even, if some conditions align, he can even lash out at her - he is not dumb to anger a goddess, but I can imagine him getting too distraught and exhausted by being constantly alert in this completely unfamiliar and for all he knows very hostile world and making a mistake and letting repressed anger out. If they survive this, I bet my ass Gale is gonna be head over heels.
But then again, Kyle sees someone who actually is willing to hold a friendly and intelligent conversation in this world where he no doubt feels lost and outnumbered. He sees Gale trying to teach him local languages, history, culture, magic for what it is - a genuine friendship offer. Gale doesn't want anything other than human connection from Gaz, and Gaz isn't the type to turn it down. I'm sure he'll offer as much knowledge about our world as Gale wants; he won't judge Gale for being out of shape or not looking his best, he'll just offer help with hair care and shaving. He'll be good to Tara and win her over in an instant, and he'll want to meet Gale's family and see his home.
Gale will learn to express his love without magic to be closer to Kyle (I don't know if Gaz will be able to do spells, but even if he can, he can't be as good as Gale). They'll share love through cooking and poetry, but then Gale will show Gaz the Weave and Gaz will try and teach Gale to play football to get him to stay active and be healthier. They'll spend hours browsing books and fabrics, drink good alcohol and kiss in the dim lighting of stars and campfires. Gaz will have to take the lead at first, guide Gale a little, reassure him, but in return he'll get someone who loves him for just himself. His achievements in our world, even though Gale knows of them and understands their weight, don't mean much to this curious wizard, because while he is guilty of chasing after power, he is also absolutely capable of valuing the connection itself. He doesn't need Kyle "best result on SAS trials golden boy Captain Price's protege" Garrick, he needs Kyle who can make a good pun and kisses the skin above the deadly orb with soft promises to make things right, even if he has to team up with Soap and learn how to disarm magic bombs too.
#juju's replies#anon comrade#hope this wasn't too bad#i honestly just imagined a lot of little moments of comfort. and they would be sooooo stylish together#call of duty#cod#bg3#baldur's gate 3#gale#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#bg3 gale#gaz cod#kyle gaz garrick#kyle x gale
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"The reason I make a point of saying this is that I've grown confident enough to tell you something I've yet to tell another living soul. Except for my cat." Gale inhaled through his nose, obviously mounting some great confession. "You see, I have this... condition. Very different from the parasite we share, but just as deadly."
Arlen frowned at the news, though he did not yet know the wizard well enough to feel anything more profound than the usual sympathy. Much like hearing from a coworker that they've been constipated for the last two weeks, or that they break out into creeping crud every time they eat chocolate cake; as far as Arlen knew, those sorts of things were also very different from brain parasites and probably just as deadly. If only socially.
Still, Gale seemed like a nice bloke and Arlen didn't want to be rude. "What kind of condition?" he asked, not too curiously.
"The specifics are rather personal," (so, creeping crud then) "but suffice it to say that it is a malady I have learned to live with," (so, chronic creeping crud) "though not without some effort," Gale told him. "What it comes down to is this: Every so often I need to get my hands on a powerful magical item and absorb the Weave inside. It's been days since I last consumed an artifact—since before we were abducted. It's only a matter of time before my craving returns."
Arlen blinked, realizing he had already lost the plot after a single dialogue tag. "Huh? What weave? Are we still talking about," he glanced over his shoulders and whispered, "creeping crud...?"
"What?"
"You know. Um. Uh..." Arlen didn't want to say it again in front of all these nice people. Like Lae'zel, who was already boring holes into Arlen's back with her searing impatience.
"No no—never mind. Look. I just need you to help me find magic items to consume. It is vital. Dare I say it, critical," continued Gale. His winning grin returned. "I'm sure we won't have to look very far to find what I need: Faerûn overflows with magic-infused treasure." A barely perceptible shift in his posture would inform the more observant souls that the man was moving in for the (strictly figurative) kill. "As do our packs, as a matter of fact. We've such an item already in our possession, primed for the moment the need arises."
This came as a surprise to Arlen, as did Lae'zel's sudden intervention.
"Tch. How convenient," she sneered as she moved herself between the two men. "Can you not see it? He makes himself as obvious and brazen as that doublet you've inflicted on us: Clearly he's after our pizza."

Yes, the triple-cheese & sausage pizza they had just procured from the local shop, brightly packaged and ready for whatever passes for a lore-friendly microwave in this universe. It awaited most tantalizingly within Arlen's pack, its siren song calling ever louder as the clock ticked closer to lunch time...
#baldur's gate 3#hey what a coincidence i'm hungry too and it IS lunch time#so let's all have some pizza and forget this ever happened
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