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[bestastrologerinusa]

Love Spells Caster in Jacksonville Florida

Lost Love spells caster in Jacksonville, Florida provide free mantras online and helps girls and boys to get their lover and partners back in their lives.

[avocado-writing]

For the bg3 requests how about the companions realizing they love tav in the middle of a battle(love your work!!!)

partner piece to this!

Astarion

realises when he sees you cut down someone in battle to save him.

you don’t think twice about beheading the cultist, or shooting them full of a magic missile, or stabbing them in the guts from the shadows - whatever you do is equally wonderful.

his eyes go wide as he watches you make the killing blow. warm blood spatters on his face and, when you shout to ask if he’s alright, his heart does a funny little dance in his chest.

he’s alright. he’s the most alright that he’s ever been, actually

kisses you suddenly, the taste of the kill dancing between your lips, and stares at you very sincerely.

“I love you.” then back to the battle before you can press it any further.

Gale

if you’re a spell caster, he falls for you because of your capability using magic. you have a knack for it he finds delightful.

the twirl of your hands, soft speaking as you recite verbal components, all of it - it’s all perfect.

he stares at you, distracted for a moment, and then gets a club in the side of the head and is catapulted back to battle.

if you’re not a mage then it’s when you do something he taught you, silencing an enemy wizard by cutting them off when you realise a somatic component. you shoot him a thumbs up and he feels his whole face go bright red.

you listen to him. you care about him. and he loves you.

Wyll

you’re fighting back-to-back, fending off enemies as they charge towards you, yelling out directions for the other one to be watching.

“wyll! big guy on your left!”

he turns and stabs, running through an orc, and hears you laugh from the exhilaration of battle.

he realises then how much he loves you, how he’d never have any other life than this heart-pounding, blood-pumping excitement with you; and he’d do anything to keep you safe.

there’s no time for him to confess right now… but he does reach behind himself to give your free hand a little squeeze with his. just so you know. just so he can come back to it and confess later.

Karlach

raging, so it’s less her thinking through it and more a series of realisations which come to her all at once.

you: fighting. you: protecting. you: protecting her. you: capable. you: loveable.

oh, it all slips into place. she can’t do anything about it right now because her axe is buried in the face of an ogre, but after the battle when she’s calmed down she seeks you out.

is a bit awkward about it, finds reasons to be near you, but you manage to work out what it is she is desperate to say.

give her a kiss, and she squeals with excitement. she thinks you’re just perfect!

Lae’zel

ahh, lae’zel. would she fall for you at any other time?

has always watched your form in battle but there’s something about today, this fight. she can’t keep her eyes off of you.

you are flawless. perfect. dispatching enemies with ease.

she realises she feels not just fondness for you, but love. something she did not believe that she’d ever experience.

she is a little distracted and gets hit, but that just makes her focus back on the battle. you check in with her afterwards and she brushes you off, stomping away to go and mull her feelings over.

is… scared to confess to you. may do it one day. not today.

Shadowheart

runs over to heal you during a battle, your wounds are great, but you shake her off:

”you’re in far worse condition than me! heal yourself first!”

she realises how hurt she is for the first time. she sort of learned to deal with the pain as she was raised sharran, but… you’re the one who’s taken notice of her. nobody has ever done that.

suddenly she is overwhelmed with feelings for you. she’d been soft for you before, but now she is overwhelmed with emotion.

she does heal herself, and then you - luxuriating in the feel of your skin under her hands.

Halsin

he’s already fond of you, but the thing that really gets him is during one particular battle.

you’re fighting and he can see you’re doing your best to protect something behind you from your assailants. during a moment when an enemy is down he sees what’s behind you: a baby boar, terrified.

not the most pleasant creature, covered in mud and squealing, but you still are attempting to shield it from the battle, and when the fight is over he sees you use magic to talk to it and calm it down, check it over for wounds.

he realises how smitten he is with you in that moment. how much you care. you are perfect, and he wants to spend his life with you.

Minthara

probably falls for you during an act of violence, a particularly bloody kill.

you show no mercy to your opponent, opening them from throat to navel, eyes bright as you see them bleed out.

you are an angel of death, vicious and proud. you smile at your kill and minthara finds herself smiling too.

charming. you are charming, and that’s all there is too it. she smiles through the rest of the battle at the thought of you.

[papercorgiworld]

As the world caves in

To keep you safe Mattheo has to make a hard breaking decision. Everyone is suffering in this story and at the end you can chose for maximum pain or a happy ending, where love conquers all.

Mattheo x reader – Enzo x Ella (cameo) – Tom x Lyn (cameo)

Credit to this request about the song “As the world caves in” and this anon who sent in “Less and less”. I managed to squeeze in Mattheo, Tom and Enzo, but no Theo.

For maximum angst listen to Matt Maltese songs. Look, I blame these songs for what I wrote, I'm normally not that much of an angst person. I seriously had a tear roll down my cheek at some point. I added a lot of picture to make sure you know exactly how broken everyone is in this story. I would like to say happy readings, but it's more like sad readings this time, but there's also some fluff, so yeah, I hope you like it.

Important note: in this story only the caster of the memory charm, obliviate, can undo it. Also the lore concerning this charm and the one to implant false memories is confusing so don’t break your brain over it. 

I. We’ll be fine

You carefully close the door behind you and the painting winks at you, reassuring you that your secret is safe. Quietly you check around the corner to make sure none of the disciplinary guards are around. Your heart pounds as you watch every shadow move afraid of getting caught. You see madam Pomfrey secretly signal you to stay put and you press your back against the stone cold walls of Hogwarts as Snape and his minions leave. You listen to the steps fading away and then look around to see if they’re really gone, before crossing the hall. Madam Pomfrey quickly closes the door behind you. “Did you manage to get the ingredients?” She asks with an urgent but hushed voice and you nod, handing her a bag filled with all things necessary for potions that ease pain. You’re scanning the hospital beds. There are  innocent first years that suffered the Cruciatus curse as part of education. There are rebellious students with painful injuries. There are crying students covered in blood, simply because they were punished for being late to dinner. You’re shocked when suddenly Pomfrey wraps her arms around you and embraces you. “Thank you.” It takes a moment for you to adjust to the hug, but quickly enough you enjoy her warmth. It’s only then that you realise that you probably both needed it more than you knew. When she pulls away she looks at you with a brave face. “Thank you so much.” You smile, happy you helped. “Now hurry, go to your dorm and be careful.” You nod. “Be safe.” She whispers again and you smile before quietly closing the door.

Hogwarts looked so miserable now that the death eaters were in charge. You couldn’t help but feel haunted by the suffocating fear that spread through the castle. Even though you had done this many times before, you were still terrified of getting caught. Quietly and crouched down you move from statue to wall to staircase. Unfortunately, a foul smirking death eater caught your sneaking figure. “What have we here?” Instantly you feel your body being levitated as he comes into view. “Two hours late. You know what that means right.” Your heart races and your body tenses. “Cruciatus curse. Four times.” You struggle to escape the spell keeping you in the air, but to no avail and you watch him raise his wand. “Leave her.” You feel tears well up as you recognise Mattheo’s voice. “I asked her to meet me.” Mattheo says with a cold stern voice, not looking at you. You fall down hard, but Mattheo still keeps his gaze away from you. You look down at the cold tiles and again listen to the footsteps move away. Only when Mattheo is sure no one is watching he looks at you and you look at him. Slowly he walks over to you, kneeling by your side and wrapping his arm around you to help you get up. “I’m okay, Matt.” You whisper, but he’s far from convinced. 

In silence he brings you to his room, near the slytherin common room. You still needed to get used to it, Mattheo having his own private room, separate from all other students. The room was cold and dimly lit. Mattheo struggled to make the new place his own and for some reason the room ended up reflecting his emotional suffering. Once you’re seated on one of the couches he kneels in front of you studying your face as he tucks a few strands of hair away. “Really Matt, I’m fine. You were just in time to save me.” You try to reassure him with a sweet smile, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He can see you’re exhausted from the stress, worries and secrecy. “I want you to stop helping them.” Mattheo whispers, eyes focused on yours. A slow breath leaves you as you empathise with him. You were worried about him all the time and you understood that every time you took a risk he probably suffered until he was sure you were safe. “Matt…” You start, but the tone of your voice already hints at a negative answer making Mattheo turn away from you. “I can’t take it anymore. It’s too dangerous. There are death eaters that are suspecting things and- I can’t- you can’t get hurt.” Your boyfriend looks back to you, but instead of meeting his eyes your frowning gaze is focused on a bruise near his jaw and neck. Your hands reach, but Mattheo immediately grabs your hand softly squeezing it and he looks so vulnerable in that moment.

Your heart ached as you realised that Mattheo probably suffered another ridiculous punishment from his father. “Let me heal you.” You whisper, when Mattheo allows your fingers to brush his injury. He rests his hand on yours. “No, it needs to stay for a few days. He wants it to be a reminder.” Your heart breaks at the pain in his voice. The abuse he suffered seemed to be worse than a simple Cruciatus curse and Mattheo knew you were feeling his pain by the way lips parted and your eyes shone with horror. He pushed himself up, joining you on the couch and leaning in to rest his head against yours. “We’ll be fine.” He whispers and you smile. “I know. No one can break us.” His parted lips search for yours and you meet in a tender kiss. His hand finds your cheek as the kiss becomes more passionate. 

II. Tonight we are brave

Enzo unfolded a little snake folded paper that had made its way to his dorm. Ella watches him and feels her heartbeat quicken, but when Enzo’s eyes meet hers, her heart skips a beat. Tonight? “Mattheo wants us to leave tonight.” Enzo affirms her suspicion and Ella nods with a clenched jaw and brave eyes. When Enzo gets up to start gathering their stuff, so does she, but when he notices her unsteady figure he walks over to her. Ella’s eyes stare deep into her boyfriend’s eyes and he smiles at her, recognizing her fear and bravery despite it, kissing her forehead as a silent way of telling her that all will be alright. “Enzo, I’m terrified of what Voldomort will do if he finds us.” He stares at her, seeing the fear not just in her eyes, but in her whole body. 

It was heartbreaking, but they had no choice. Sooner or later Voldemort would find out about what the lot of them had done. How they had helped students escape. How they had informed Harry Potter and his friends about everything going on at the death eater table. How they had countless muggle borns in hiding all over the country. All they had been waiting for these past few days was Mattheo’s call so they could take you with them. You were too involved, you had to go into hiding.

“We have to be brave, sweetie. So we can stay together. So everyone has a fighting chance.” Enzo says with a determined voice. Ella wraps her arms around Enzo’s neck and slowly his hands move to her back, holding her close and squeezing her tight as a reminder that he wouldn’t let her go.

III. goodbye my love

Was it horrible or wonderful that the last moments you spent together were unknowing and in intimate love? Mattheo lay next to your sleeping figure, his fingers featherlight as they brush your soft skin. You are so beautiful. So perfect and pure. I hope you can forgive me, because if I live I need you to forgive me. I need you to understand that what I do, everything I do, is because I love you and I want to be loved by you. Mattheo closes his eyes as he breaks his own heart and goes through with his own plan, reaching for his wand. He casts a spell to make sure you continue sleeping for a few more hours. With a clenched jaw he watches you and swallows, not allowing tears to well up and gritting his teeth as he casts another spell. Obliviate.

Sitting at the edge of the bed Mattheo tries to take a mental picture of you, not knowing how long you will be away, not knowing if you’ll ever see one another again. A knock at the door makes his dead eyes look up, before unlocking the door with one flick of his wrist. Ella gives Mattheo a sympathetic smile as she enters the room. “Enzo’s preparing the carriage.” There’s a silence and Ella can’t help but feel like there’s no air in the room. Without saying anything Mattheo lifts you from the bed to bring his sleeping loved one to a carriage that will take her away, somewhere she can’t be found.

Ella crawls next to you in the carriage, wrapping a blanket around the both of you. Enzo sighs and walks over to Mattheo who forces his eyes away from you for the first time since this evening. “I know it’s risky, but you can still come. It’s worth the fight.” Mattheo's dead eyes meet Enzo’s and there’s a silence. “I’m not risking her life just to spend a few more days with her while being hunted down.” Enzo opens his mouth, but Mattheo shakes his head and stops him. “No, don’t. I can’t be selfish with her. Go.” Enzo swallows and gives his friend a curt nod. “She’ll be safe.” 

It strikes midnight and Mattheo watches the carriage in the distance until it turns invisible. He doesn’t want to feel the pain and holds his breath as he dissociates from the moment, hiding somewhere in his own mind. 

You’re safe and you’ll live and that’s all that matters. 

You’re strong and you’ll find happiness and that is all that matters.

IV. No light in this life

Like an empty vessel Mattheo moves through the hallways in the direction of his room. That last spark of magic in the castle had disappeared with you. When Mattheo nears the last staircase he spots the frame of his brother at the top of the stairs. “You send her away.” Tom’s voice is monotone as he watches his younger sibling look up at him. In silence and with his head down Mattheo moves up the staircase, his brother’s gaze locked on him. When he arrives at the top, he still doesn’t look at Tom, but he does nod. “Father will notice.” Tom warns, voice cold. Mattheo’s jaw twitches in anger with his brother. “He won't, she's just another student that escaped his tyranny.” Tom raises his eyebrows at the slightly harsh tone. Mattheo takes two steps in the direction of his room, before turning around to his brother. “If our father ever finds out about her I promise you, I’ll make you live for an eternity, knowing that you are the reason I killed the love of your life, because I swear I’ll destroy that little happiness you possess in your miserable life if-” Tom bites back hard. “Don’t worry little brother as far as I’m concerned you never loved anyone and no one ever loved you.” As horrible as it sounded Mattheo knew it was his brother's way of reassuring him in his own twisted way that their father would never know about you. Mattheo nods and turns around with haste. Tom watches him leave and even when he’s gone he continues staring. With you gone Tom had lost his brother.

That night Tom is more quiet than usual, but that isn’t odd these days. It’s his gentle eyes watching her that make Lyn get up and walk over to him, kneeling down and cupping his cheeks, forcing his eyes to meet her. A single tear runs down Tom’s cheek. “I regret bringing him back.” Tom whispers with a hoarse voice. “I never meant for any of this to happen.” His voice finally cracks and he turns his face away from Lyn, but she won’t have it, forcing him to meet her eyes once more as tears roll down his cheeks. “I know.” Is all she whispers before embarrassing him. When it’s all over, we’ll leave… leave it all behind.

Wind gushes against the window and Tom rests his head on Lyn’s shoulder as he watches the miserable weather outside. Mattheo feels that same wind through his hair as he stands at the astronomy tower holding a cigarette and staring into nothing, wishing he could turn it off, all those feelings. Only having the thought of ever seeing you again, one day, maybe, as a beacon of light to keep on surviving whatever is coming.

V. All that matters

There are two endings. For maximum angst: choose the second one (I’m not responsible for the sadness you will feel afterwards). For more fluff and happiness: pick the first one. 

The 🥹🥰 version

Every night you dream of Hogwarts. There’s music in the great hall and a man, who asks you to dance with him. You gracefully take his hand and as sad as the music is you feel happy in his arms. When a harsh gust of wind startles you both, you look at him and say “We’ll be fine. No one can break us.”. Then you always wake up and you feel empty as you stare around your room, looking for him. Who are you? This night had been no different, but the morning was as you heard your friends argue in the kitchen. 

“No, I promised Mattheo to keep her safe.” Enzo whispers, but it’s a loud and tense whisper. Mattheo? Your heart swells at the name and you don’t understand why. “Luna’s letter says the battle is happening. They need help.” Ella whispers with pleading eyes as she moves closer to her boyfriend. “Why don’t you both stay here and I’ll go.” Enzo says embracing Ella and resting his head against hers. “You promised you wouldn’t do what Matt did, we would stay together through it all.” Ella whispers as she pulls away, her eyes meeting Enzo’s fearful ones. “I wanna fight and I want to meet him, this Mattheo person.” Your voice is hesitant and your friends stare at you standing in the door opening of your room. Enzo squeezes Ella a little closer and sighs, but Ella just smiles at you. No arguing with a girl in love.

The battle at Hogwarts was won and Lyn runs to you, hugging you tightly. “I’m so glad you're safe.” You hug back and see a familiar figure come into view, but there’s something about him you can’t remember and you can’t help but frown. “He’s at Malfoy manor.” Tom says and you instantly know he’s talking about this Mattheo person, the one you’re looking for, the one you need to find without knowing why. “He’s locked up, but he’s alright. Well, he’s alive. Wasn’t easy convincing my father to let him live.” You feel your heart race and Lyn lets go of you. “Tell my brother… tell him I’m sorry.” Tom whispers and Lyn reaches for his hand and smiles at you. You remember enough to know that they have to leave and nod. “I’ll find him.” You say and an amused half smile tugs on Tom’s lip. “No doubt.” Gently squeezing hands, the couple apparates, leaving you determined to find Mattheo, still not sure who he is to you.

Though the battle at Hogwarts had ended, there was still resistance at Malfoy manor. When you arrive with Ella and Enzo you immediately need to cast a protection spell. When one of the spells hits Ella, making her stumble and fall, Enzo answers with a devastating spell blasting down the death eater and the wall behind him. The other enemy is left staring at the three of you in shock and Enzo raises his wand with determination. “I’m marrying that one so don’t think about casting another spell.” After a second of consideration the last death eater apparates and Ella turns to Enzo looking impressed. “What? You thought I was all looks and no fight?” Enzo quips with a cheeky smile and Ella chuckles. “Marrying me?” She asks, not being able to contain her bright smile. Enzo nods, realising he spilled his secret plans.

You interrupt their kiss before it turns into a make out session. “Hello! I would still like to find the moron who made me forget who he is, but I still keep on dreaming about.” It still surprises both Enzo and Ella that your love for Mattheo had not only found a loophole to the obliviate charm, but also continued to feed your determination to find a man you could not remember. 

Mattheo had heard a lot of commotion outside and his bruised and tortured body couldn’t help but flinch in pain at the thought of what was going on. He stares at the locked door of his room, focussed and mentally preparing for whatever is coming his way now. When the door forcefully swings open he clenches his jaw and for several seconds his worn out eyes stare at you emotionless. Your eyes scan Mattheo and you so desperately try to remember anything about him as you know for sure you know him. “(y/n).” He whispers, still tense but eyes softening. For a second you search for words, but then you decide that it’s pointless and run towards him. Your arms wrap around his neck and you close your eyes. Your soul was finally at peace. You had found what you were missing all these months. Mattheo struggles to breath as his lungs seem to fill with air for the first time since he sent you away. He feels warmth again. His vision seems to change as his mind finally clears. When he hears soft sobs coming from you his hands finally move and he holds you, stroking your back before wrapping his arms around you and pressing your body against his, needing all of you to even believe that it is really you.

“I want to remember.” You whisper in between sobs and Mattheo’s body relaxes at the sound of your voice. You pull away a little so you can study his face, adoring his eyes and brushing over the fresh scars on his face. Mattheo hesitates to undo it because he’s scared of having that happiness back. You see the fear in his eyes grow as he takes in every piece of you. “What are you afraid of?” You whisper. Mattheo stares deep into your eyes and he can’t help but be honest. “Love.” You chuckle and give him a warm smile. “I love you already and I know I’ll continue to do so, whether I remember or not, I know I’ll love you forever.” You reach for the wand you had found earlier, knowing it belonged to him. “It’s over. We won. It’s okay. They didn’t break us.” Mattheo’s hand wraps around yours, holding his wand. His lips crash onto your soft ones and you can feel his tears against your cheeks. His other hand holds the back of your head as his forehead rests on yours, eyes drowning in one another. 

You hear a soft whisper and then all memories start flooding back. The quidditch games. The late nights at the astronomy tower. The yule ball. Laughing in the hallway. Winks and smirks during class. Intense study sessions. Sweet, messy nights together that had you wishing they would never end. And that last evening together.

The 😭😢 version

It’s chilly, but the sun is shining and radiates a gentle warmth. Tom stops, taking in a deep breath and Lyn squeezes his hand, encouraging him. While Lyn watches him Tom approaches you sitting on a bench, enjoying the sun while reading. He smiles and there’s so much going on in his eyes, too much for one soul to bare. “Good book.” Tom starts and you look up, giving the stranger a polite smile. “Mind if I tell you an even better story?” You look confused at the man in front of you and the reason you say yes is mostly out of politeness. “It’s about selfless and unconditional love.” Tom explains as he sits down next to you. “Oh, I would love to hear about that.” A genuine relief fills Tom’s eyes as he can sit down next to you. “It’s about some extraordinary people, Enzo and Ella, and… my brother, Mattheo, who loved a girl named (y/n).” A chuckle leaves your lips. “That’s my name as well.” Tom's eyes get glassy as he watches you. I know, but how I wish you knew his name.

Suddenly your chuckle falls and you look away. “Matt! Be careful!” Tom’s eyes snap in the direction you were looking. Tom’s eyes meet brown ones, unmistakably his brother’s… and the kid smiles at Tom. “Matt?” Tom whispers as his nephew approaches him.

Word count: 3497

Feedback is always welcome.

[theoutcastrogue]

This is petty but that's never stopped me.

In the Vox Machina campaign, Scanlan Shorthalt's resounding success in matters of tactics [this post isn't about roleplaying] was partly due to Sam Riegel's skill, and mostly due to the fact that 5e Bards are just that good. However! The "gnome bard" combo was famously chosen by Liam, after Sam, who'd never played d&d before, asked what's the silliest, least powerful and least badass thing he could play. That was his character concept. And at the time, Liam was not wrong to answer "bard". In 3rd Edition/Pathfinder, Bards DID suck, at least out of the box. You could build a strong Bard in Pathfinder, but you had to optimise to high heavens with carefully selected feats and spells and items from various sources. It didn't just happen spontaneously, and it was still nowhere near the raw power and versatility of a Wizard or Druid. Bards played support.

So at lvl 9, they started streaming and switched from Pathfinder to D&D 5e. Scanlan got an ENORMOUS power boost at that point, but Sam was still harbouring under the impression that his chosen class is not powerful or badass at all. And as they kept playing and he kept killing it (he was brilliant at it, no doubt about that!), he presumed that he was killing it with one hand tied behind his back, because he was just a silly little gnome bard. And, he emphatically wasn't silly. He was a whole-ass full caster, top tier class right there.

Pathfinder Bards are half-casters. If they hadn't switched to 5e, Scanlan wouldn't have access to 7th and higher level spells: no Mordenkeinen's Magnificent Mansion (a signature spell), no Dominate Monster (this is how he made the goristro fight Vorugal), no Reverse Gravity (big moment in the first Ripley fight), and no Wish (kind of a big deal!). Other spells aren't in the Bard list, and there's no Magical Secrets in Pathfinder: he wouldn't have access to Bigby's Hand (another signature spell), Otiluke's Resilient Sphere (how he got rid of the efrit, and Ripley), Lightning Bolt and Stinking Cloud (his standard damage spells), Polymorph (that's several giant eagles including the "now smarter" Grog (this will never stop being funny), and of course the legendary triceratops), or Counterspell (kind of an enormous deal). And all the other spells would have come later: no Seeming at lvl 11 = no cows. (What a loss! No cows!)

And it's not just access to spells, it's also "likelihood of spells to work", which depends on the DC, which in Pathfinder depended on spell level. Lower level spells had a lower chance of doing anything, by virtue of being easier to resist. And half-casters got a slower spell progression, and ended up with significantly less power overall. Whereas in 5e spell level is irrelevant, spell DCs depend on your character level, and that's that. Even (Bardic) Inspiration got a boost from the switch. All in all, we're talking about a spectacular upgrade.

So a tragic misconception happened: Sam got it into his head that he's so good at d&d that he can gimp himself and still kick ass. Well, he can't.

When he played a Rogue (no big spells, huh? no cheat sheet!) he sucked at it and he hated it. And now that he plays a Cleric and actually, actively gimps himself (he said in a 4-Sided Dive that he deliberately avoids cleric spells that others have used before in CR, which by now is most of them, and certainly the best of them), he very predictably sucks at it too (I mean relatively speaking; it's still a full caster), and he doesn't love it. The one time he was BRILLIANT was when he had a top tier class to work with, and used it to its full potential. But he thought he was gimping himself, because he was thinking of a different game/edition than the one he was playing!

I wanna grab him by the shoulders and shake him up and say my good man, you gotta stop this "I gimp myself" -> "I fail to kick ass" -> *surprised pikachu face*. CHOOSE. Either gimp yourself and accept you won't be kicking any ass, but it's okay because you enjoy roleplaying someone like that more than you enjoy kicking ass, OR stop gimping yourself and kick ass, because you do enjoy kicking ass, don't you?

Both are great! I approve either way! But choose.

I also wanna grab Liam by the shoulders and tell him "Wizard or Sorcerer! For the love of all that's green and good in this world, next time Sam asks you what class to play in D&D, tell 'im Wizard or Sorcerer!". But then I remember that next time they'll probably play Daggerheart and not D&D unless WotC makes them an offer they can't refuse, so the whole thing is moot.

[forgeofthenine]

Hello There ! 👋😊

I have a request for Zevlor if it's OK...! 🖤

It may be a bit specific, so feel free to only pick the elements you like !

The general idea would be "shy!pining!Tav asks Zevlor for a lock of his hair before the final battle. "

As for the optional details, I was thinking tav would be a cleric (of Sêluné, but if you have another deity in mind, no problem!) who would enclose this lock of hair in a locket or a cameo. You'd have to have the strand of someone you love deeply and unconditionally to create a very powerful Protector spell on the caster. The 'donor' (in this case, Zevlor) doesn't have to feel the same for it to work. (even if he does feel the same of course 😉)

Bonus point if Zevlor learns of this spell AFTER the end of the story, post!canon.

Feel free to pick only what interests you or ignore this request!😚

Smooches!

Hi Beardy! I loved writing this one and the prompt was so fun!! It doesn't have Zevlor finding out and the reader is a bit less shy, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. When I have less requests I'd love to potentially write a part two for this that includes Zev figuring things out! <3

The locket of hellrider protection

All that could be felt in the room was the thick, stiff tension. Despite multiple rousing speeches, mere words couldn't drown out the sounds of the cities destruction as it collapses to rubble. The dim light in the hall reveals the worried faces of the dozens of inhabitants.

Stray rocks crunch and grind under your boot as you cross the crowded room. Weaving through Harpers and Gur, waving towards your fellow cleric of Selûne as she stands with Dame Aylin. Others smile or nod towards you, familiar tieflings all standing next to an excited owlbear that is suddenly ten times the size you remember. Finally, you make your way to the one person you wanted to see, the composed tiefling standing near the door.

He looks better than when you last saw him, no longer covered in bruising and slime after his time in the mindflayer pod. As you approach Zevlor perks up, eyes brightening as he quietly clears his throat. A small nod is sent your way as you come to stand in front of the tall tiefling.

"If it isn't my favourite paladin, you look well Zevlor." You greet, a tone of relief in your voice as you mention his looks. The tiefling really does look better, a good colour on his cheeks, his posture taller with shoulders pulled back. He looks even more attractive than you remember.

The flush on his face deepens, Zevlor breaking into a small smile at your words. "Such high praise from one so heroic. The way to Baldurs gate has been full of strife, but I'm glad to see you here." The paladins voice was raspy, the slight edge to it that's always there, and the mere sound after so long sends a shiver down your spine.

"As am I, I must admit I was worried after we last met." You can see the way his shoulders tense slightly at the memory of the Shadowlands, of the mindflayer colony. "But, I'm glad to see my worry was misplaced. Though, I do have a favour to ask, before we have to leave." Your eyes shift around the room, seeing everyone stirring and readying to leave. You're almost out of time.

Zevlor realises the same, giving you a polite nod. "Anything you'd like, I and my hellriders are at your service." His words are earnest, soft, despite the high tensions and bustle of the room. The tieflings endless composure is reassuring, even as the world falls down around you both.

"I won't ask for much, only a lock of your hair if I can." The question is still hesitant, knowing it's an intimate request. Still, despite the initial widening of his eyes and a momentarily look of shock, he pulls his hair free from its styling. It falls around his face, framing the light blush you can see in the candlelight.

"Feel free, it's the least I can do for someone that has done so much for me." Zevlor bows his head, letting you take what you'd like. The hair under your fingers is soft and thick, your fingers running through it lightly as his eyes come gently to a close. Carefully, you bring a sharp dagger up, freeing a lock of dark hair that comes to rest in your palm. It's tiny, entirely straight, but it will fulfill its purpose just as the two of you will.

As Zevlor straightens himself, he watches you place it in your locket bearing Selûnes symbols. His eyes peer curiously as you bring the lockets chain back over your neck, the metal casing holding a piece of him close to you at all times. "Thank you, Zevlor. You... I appreciate this, so much." You tell him, bringing a hand gently to his bicep.

His own hand covers yours, so incredibly warm even through his leather gloves. "Whatever you need, whatever I can provide." He promises, the words said only for the two of you to hear. Though, even without hearing the words, there is one person in the room giving you two a knowing look. Isobel, another cleric of Selûne is aware of just what you've asked, her own locket with Aylins hair warm against her own skin.

[watfordgrimoire]

Summer of Shakespeare

To be or not to be -- acts as a coin flip; caster's object with either glow bright white or become shrouded in shadows

Two may keep counsel, putting one away -- prevents whom it is cast on from being able to speak of a secret (forbidden spell)

Let slip the dogs of war -- draws in nearby canines

What light through yonder window breaks -- creates sunlight through the window it is cast on

If you prick us, do we not bleed -- creates a pinprick wound

To sleep, perchance to Dream -- sleeping spell (has a chance to cause the sleeper to have vivid, lucid dreams)

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown -- creates a heavy, golden crown

Get thee to a nunnery -- creates a route to the nearest convent

Take arms against a sea of troubles -- pulls in nearby weapons (only works if near a body of salt water)

In nature there's no blemish but the mind -- removes acne

If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well / It were done quickly -- speeds up electronic appliances (causes the appliances to shut down if cast incorrectly)

A man can die but once -- used by superstitious mages to ward off vampire attacks

The good is oft interred with their bones -- buries objects it is cast on (can also be used as a finding spell when cast with the correct intentions)

It's Greek to me -- translates text to Greek

My kingdom for a horse -- summons nearby equine

Neither a borrow nor a lender be -- if someone owes you money, takes any cash/coins they have on them when cast

Nothing will come of nothing -- cleaning spell

Brevity is the soul of wit -- silencing spell (only allows for a few words while the spell is active)

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day -- heats someone up to the average summer temperature of the area

You have witchcraft in your lips -- enhances the next spell cast

Friends, Romans, Countrymen -- amplifies the caster's voice

Lord, what fools these mortals be -- stunning spell

The course of true love never did run smooth -- rumoured at Watford to cause a couple to break up if cast on them

Now is the winter of our discontent -- snow creation spell (only works when the caster is unhappy)

All the world's a stage -- creates a temporary, basic stage to use for performances

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and other have greatness thrust upon them -- superstitious mages cast this on newborn children in order to increase their depth of magick

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind -- temporary blinding spell (only works if the person it is cast on is in love)

Conscience does make cowards of us all -- scares away nearby creatures

To suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune -- an arrow creation spell

Frailty, thy name is woman -- weakening spell

It is not enough to speak, but to speak true -- forces whomever it is cast on to tell a truth

I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me -- causes nearby dogs to bark

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy -- finding spell

The lady doth protest too much -- reveals if someone is lying

The whips and scorns of time -- attacking spell

I am a man more sinned against than sinning -- shielding spell

Good wine is a good familiar creature -- wine creation spell (difficult spell)

We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep -- when cast on someone who is sleeping, has the chance to allow them to bring small objects out of their dreams (difficult spell)

O wretched state! o bosom black as death! -- dyes objects black

Muddy death -- creates a mud puddle

Lay aside life-harming heaviness / And entertain a cheerful disposition -- cheering up spell

And, most dear actors, eat no onions or garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath -- cures bad breath

If after every tempest come such calms, / May the winds blow till they have wakened death -- creates a wind storm

None can be called deformed but the unkind -- reveals if someone has betrayed you, causing them to be covered in boils

Deny thy father and refuse thy name -- name changing spell (can apply to first, middle, and/or last name depending on the emphasis of the words)

The evil that men do lives after them -- creates weapons out of human bones (forbidden spell)

To thine own self be true -- temporary self-confidence increasing spell

Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once -- used in battle to try and scare the opposition into retreat (difficult spell)

Blest be the man that spares these stones, And curst be he that moves my bones -- cast on graves to prevent graverobbing

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and gets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more -- silencing spell (forbidden spell)

And through this distemperature we see / The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts / Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose -- creates a layer of frost

It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing -- causes whomever it is cast on to babble uncontrollably

For there was never yet philosopher / That could endure the toothache patiently -- eases toothache pain

God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another -- temporary disguise spell

Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind -- reveals if a suspect is guilty (not always reliable as it can be tampered with)

Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains -- stabilizes piles of soil or rock

Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd -- helps boats steer safely into harbor

The empty vessel makes the loudest sound -- drains glasses of liquids (also creates a loud sound)

Though she be but little, she is fierce -- shrinking spell

My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break -- undoes silencing spells

[morrigan-sims]

🦉Positivity owl reporting for duty! This was sent by a friend who wants you to smile as much as your posts make them smile. Please list five things that make you unique, four things you are super passionate about and why, OR three of your favorite memories. Feel free to send the owl to those who you feel deserve to smile🦉

Augh, thank you anon! This is super sweet to log onto after a night of no sleep and in the middle of working on one of two huge assignments due this week.

I'm going to do 4 things I'm passionate about, I think.

[Putting this under the cut because it got really really long.]

D&D I love the collaborative storytelling of it all. That my little guy and your little guy and a few other people's little guys are all working together to write a story, and it's just happening. I am eternally grateful that I started playing d&d my freshman year of college, and even though it's only been in my life for just over 2 years, I literally cannot imagine where I would be now without it. This game is not just my special interest but also my lifeline, and it means the world to me. I could yammer on about any of my campaigns for hours on end, and I have a near-encyclopedic knowledge of rules and spells. (The latter of which is very funny given that I've never played a full caster.) I also love homebrewing things, and I've undergone some pretty intense homebrew projects for the DM of my Sunday game (including stat blocks and maps for three sailing ships, plus rules for ship combat). I also have vague ideas for campaigns of my own that I would love to DM someday.

My OCs Be they for d&d or for any of my other writing projects (RTQ/ATQH I miss you...), I could talk for hours about my original characters. I have so much to say about all of them, and I know more than I would ever need to know, and more than anyone would ever care to ask. Character creation is one of my favorite things to do, and it comes to me more easily than writing a complete story, so I have countless characters who exist in a vacuum with no world or story to support them. But I still love them anyways. I will gladly ramble about my characters anytime, so feel free to send me an ask if you're ever curious about anyone I post.

Reading Reading has been my number one source of comfort and escapism for as long as I can remember. I taught myself to read when I was 3, without my parents even being aware of it until I started reading roadsigns at random. I have over 270 books in my bedroom, and that number is ever-growing, since books are one of my most frequent impulse purchases. (In fact I have another 6-10 books waiting for me when I get back to my dad's house this weekend...) I'm always looking for more recommendations or people to yell about books with, so if you're an avid reader, don't be afraid to send me a message!!

My Friends I spent a lot of time lonely as a kid, and I didn't really start making friends until I came to tumblr and discord. All of my closest friends I've met through one or both of those platforms. I absolutely adore all of them, and I'm so lucky to have found these amazing people. I will do my best to always shower them with the love they deserve. I'm generally a very chatty and outgoing person (sometimes to an extreme degree that ends up scaring off potential friends), and when I say that I'm okay with people messaging me out of the blue, I 100% mean it.

Animals I mean, I'm a zoology student, so I don't think this one is surprising in the slightest. I have essentially zero empathy for humans, but I've always felt more for animals. Not only are all 4 of my cats (2 at my dad's, 2 at my mom's) the loves of my life who I would kill and die for, I also want to work with animals for the rest of my life. Particularly my interest is in animal behavior, and I want to do enrichment work in a zoo setting. I am a nearly endless repository of animal facts, and my biology of mammals class that I'm taking this semester is only adding to that.

(BONUS) Video Games I've been a big fan of video games since middle school, but it wasn't until about my freshman year of college that I started really cementing my taste in games. I had been playing a lot of life sims, but none of them managed to hold my interest for very long. The first turn-based/RPG game I really played with Wildermyth. Eventually I starting playing Divinity: Original Sin 2, after having owned it for almost a year, and I was in love. From there I moved on to Slay the Spire, Baldur's Gate 3, Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous, to name a few. (Other games I've enjoyed in the recent past include Roots of Yggdrasil, Shadow Gambit: The Cursed Crew, and Rogue Waters.) I have a very deep love of turn-based combat, story-based RPGs, and rogue-likes or rogue-lites, so anything that has some or all of those elements is going to be an immediate love from me. (Turn-based combat is almost a must for me, though. Despite greatly enjoying the story of Dragon Age: Origins, the god-awful combat has prevented me from making any progress beyond Morrigan's recruitment.)

[paganwitchisis]

The Price of Freedom Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Intimacy and Confessions

Rated E for EXPLICIT!!

Word count: 3,752

Warnings for whole story: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! Abuse, torture, smut, oral sex, rape, healing, beatings, dismemberment, breeding kink, act 3 spoilers, canon divergence, blood, violence, graphic depictions (It is Cazador after all)

Previous chapter - here

You're on chapter 4

Next chapter - here

AO3 link is here!

RATED 18 PLUS

“Well, you know the saying? Don’t look a gift mimic in the mouth!….Or… something like that…”

Astarion chuckled “Horse…mimic….what’s the difference? They both bite.”

Tav looked at him confused, but Astarion just dismissed his correction of her phrase. For a few more hours, Astarion and Tav spoke on things that were now necessary, as well as informing her what he told Karlach and Shadowheart in regards to the limiter that Cazador put into his spawn. This seemed to enrage the woman.

“When we get back, I know you have qualms about Gale for…other reasons, but can he see if he can remove this limiter? If we can make you stronger, it may help us to get the last Netherstone.” Tav purposely avoided mentioning the upcoming fight with Cazador. Her and Astarion had been fighting as of late over what to do with the Rite of Profane Ascension. Astarion was using fear to push him into thinking he needed to making a choice in seizing the power, but Tav, fearful for another reason, objected. She was afraid of what would happen to the sweet man sharing the bedroll with her right now. She never did like the idea of making deals with any devil or entity, and this would also irk her because that was what this rite was. It was a deal. Sacrifice souls just to gain power? Sounds like a recipe waiting to go wrong. What if Astarion lost his soul? She never spoke that fear out loud.

“Tch….fine” Astarion obviously disapproved of having Gale work magic on him and try to ‘fix’ him, but with a child on the way, he wasn’t going to squander any chance he got to gain an edge over anyone who would hurt his family. “Now, we really should talk about this baby. With the new addition, we’re going to have to watch it with the fighting. I know you’re our fighter, but if we have Karlach or Lae’zel with us, you won’t need to be in the crossfire so much. I’ll have your back, of course, and then you can throw a spell caster if you like, or…whomever in, but I would really appreciate my ma…um…lover and our child were safe. We’re near the end, I can’t…I won’t let anything happen to you.” Tav looped her arms around the pale elf’s neck and brought him closer. She kissed his jawline and asked something she was wondering before tackling the potential argument about her and fighting.

“You were going to call me mate, weren't you? Like what the other guy called me. Why? What does that mean, exactly?” Tav brought her hand up to Astarion’s face and rubbed the soft pad of her thumb over his cheek bone. Astarion shifted his eyes to look anywhere but her when he began to answer.

“It’s silly.”

Tav moved her arms so that she was hugging the pale elf and squeezed him lightly, urging him to continue. Astarion held her back, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He raised his head slightly to speak to her ear. “It was…suggested among the spawn that vampires only have one real mate. One real person out there who was meant just for you. Like a soulmate, I suppose. Of course, like most things, Cazador overheard or knew of our discussion. He was rarely as unhinged as that day. From what I could gather, something happened with his master regarding that subject back when he was a spawn, and because of that, all talk of mates or believing we would ever find love was stricken. Cazador tortured us for a good decade for that transgression. He would only force potions on us to lure back our victims. Sometimes I still feel like I have phantom pains of left over glass in my skin or…Well…You know what he is like.”

Tav held him tighter and drew her leg up and over his before she replied. “Do you think I’m your mate?”

Astarion pulled back to finally look her in the eyes and pushed his lips against hers hard. Their mouths moved in perfect sync as they deepened the kiss. Of course Astarion pulled away, aware of her fragile state before his kiss would deprive her of oxygen. Astarion spoke against her lips once he pulled away.

“You’re my everything, so how could you not be my mate? I…I never even acknowledged that term until the other vampire mentioned it. I…I wasn’t sure if it was something real…if the word and term were real until then. Does it bother you if I call you that? Or that I feel that way?”

Tav shook her head no immediately before bringing her body flush to his. Astarion held her tighter and kissed her neck, her cheek and finally her lips again.

“I’d love to be your mate, Astarion, but you can only call me it if I can reciprocate and call you it back. For so long we weren't exactly sure where we stood. With the baby…it will be nice to call you that. If you feel comfortable with me calling you my mate back, I mean. I’m not a vampire but…”  

Astarion took her lips again as he considered how bruised he would leave her lush mouth. Astarion whispered against her lips his reply since he cut her off.

“I am forever grateful your heart beats, my love, but to answer your question? Please. Please call me your mate.” Astarion barely got the words out before he set his lips back on his mate’s. Tav couldn’t help the low moan that slipped out which earned Shadowheart’s ire.

“Don’t make me create water over you both…cold water.” Shadowheart threatened.

Astarion smirked and brought his arms around his mate snugly. “Hear that, darling? We may have to conserve body heat if Shadowheart makes good on her threat.” Astarion taunted with a lewd grin, eliciting mirthful giggles from Tav. This made Astarion give off a genuine smile of his own. Astarion reached over to his bag and grabbed his waterskin as he held it out to his mate who greedily devoured the clear liquid. Astarion figured she would need some considering how often he shared her lips and her current injuries.

“You know, I have no qualms about fighting smarter, but I won’t remove myself from fighting, by the way. I also won’t pull back to the back line just because I’m pregnant now. This may be your child, but it is still my body and decision. I’m willing to compromise though. Maybe I’ll pull back to the middle instead of the front lines if we use Karlach as the meat-shield.” Tav whispered to a frowning vampire.

“I heard that! You better be behind me with my niece or nephew on board!” Karlach yelled from her bed roll on the other side of the room. How she heard was anyone’s guess. Astarion still chuckled nonetheless at Tav’s groan of frustration when it seemed others were against her being near the front lines again.

“As long as you’re safe…both of you. That is all I care about, darling.” Astarion muttered against her lips and held her close, his hands resting on her backside as he pressed her flush against his body. Tav stifled another moan or they would suffer Shadowheart’s irritation once more.

That night, the couple didn’t really talk much about the baby, or the threat that it posed to her health by existing.  Astarion worried about all of this, of course, but this was a conversation best left for the comforts of privacy.  Astarion and Tav merely cuddled and held each other that night, frequently Astarion held Tav to his chest. Her back to his his front and he held her snugly while whispering sweet nothings in her ear as she drifted to sleep. Astarion went into his trance shortly after as he clutched her to him tightly. His last thoughts before falling into his trance was how much she mattered to him and dare he say, possibly love her, but he wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet. He was getting closer day after day, especially after this revelation, but he still wasn’t sure what love was. One day he thought he would know and could tell her, as he was fairly certain she had claimed his undead heart, but not yet…soon.

About four hours later, Astarion awoke from his trance to see his mate sleeping peacefully in his arms. Astarion smiled and watched her turn and snuggle into him some more. He wrapped an arm around her, and for the next few hours, thought about being a father and what that meant to him. He thought about the future and what he could do after the fall of the Absolute to provide for his child. He knew that they were butting heads as of late about the Rite of Profane Ascension, but if he could steal Cazador’s work and walk in the sun…imagine the future he could gift his heir? On the flip side, if he was constrain to the shadows again, if he was just a spawn and powerless. What kind of example would that set, and how could he protect his family with meager strength? He knew she would disagree, but Astarion was afraid. He was afraid of a future where he couldn’t provide for his family, or a future where he couldn’t protect them.

“I love you, Astarion.” Tav whispered in her sleep and snuggled into Astarion’s chest all the more tightly. Astarion may have never known what a home felt like, but this felt like it to him and no matter what may come, he would do anything to protect it. The future still wasn’t set and he still respected his mate’s opinion but if Cazador ever got wind of her and what she carried, let alone her impact to him…No. He refused to think of a future without her. A future where his old master would sink his claws into all he cared for. Hells, he almost lost them today. He couldn’t get the memories and the feeling of her life essence hitting the palm of his hand as it struggled to escape her throat and out of his hands. Astarion was distressed, and in the early morning hours, merely half an hour or so before the rising of the sun, Astarion felt the intense need for privacy with his love. The need to seek comfort with her and remind himself of her life and her beating heart. Astarion knew she needed sleep, so instead he rested his head on her chest so her strong and consistent heartbeat could lull him to a better sense of calm than what he was currently experiencing.   

“What’s wrong, love?” Astarion heard in his head and realized Tav was speaking to him with the help of the tadpole. Her eyes were open and she gazed at him lovingly, a small smile on her lips as she drew close and kissed his cheek when he rose his head to look at her. Her kiss was too much and not enough all at once. His chest was tight and a sob almost escaped him as the dam almost broke through of his emotions. Astarion leaned forward and although gentle because of her injuries, he took her mouth quickly and caged himself over her. Thankfully, Shadowheart and Karlach had long been asleep, so he didn’t have to worry about disapproving glances.

Astarion couldn’t help the very low moan escape him as his tongue entered her mouth nor his hips slowly rocking against hers. He smiled into his kiss to find her pushing back into his hips and kissing back as hard if not harder, her leg then coming out to hook around his waist. Astarion pulled his lips back to kiss her jaw line while he communicated via the tadpole.

“We need to stop, my sweet. The others….although normally I wouldn’t care…I…your noises and body are mine. I don’t feel like sharing.”

Tav knew better, of course, she knew for a bit that something was bothering him, but she dared not call him out on it.

“Let’s go to the other room.” Tav suggested via the tadpole. No sooner had she suggested it did strong arms encircle her waist, and with his rogue-like skills, quietly left the room with her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. The door was closed behind them and Astarion put her down gently before he pushed a table against the doors for privacy. Thankfully the doors were near the table so he didn’t make much noise, so when they stilled for a moment after, there was no movement being heard on the other side of the door. Astarion closed the distance between the two and passionately took Tav’s lips again while his hands made quick work of her trousers before he pushed them down along with her undergarments. Tav moaned deeply but jumped when she felt dexterous fingers enter her and the man growl against her lips.

“You’re not wet enough, dear.” Astarion huskily said as he started to lay down.

“Well, I did just wake up…” Tav replied while Astarion gripped her hips and brought her closer to his face.

“Let’s fix this. Sit on my face. Let me taste you. You taste so damn good.” Astarion’s hard on was evident in his trousers as his hips gyrated occasionally. Tav was going to reply but whatever words she had died on her tongue when Astarion took a lap of his tongue using the flat side of it between her labia. He didn’t tease her like he usually did. Instead, he alternated between sucking and licking her clit, and after a few minutes, she found herself on her second orgasm. Astarion, thankful that he didn’t have to breathe, dove further and sunk into her cleft. He devoured her, using his nose to stimulate her clitoris while he drank her in.

Tav reached back and freed his cock from the tough confines of his leather trousers, earning a gasp of relief and pleasure from the elf between her legs, and a moan that vibrated against her flesh. Tav gripped his base and began to stroke him, but Astarion, eager for touch, began using the hand to jerk himself with his thrusting action. Although it was Tav’s hand stimulating him, he was the one jerking himself off, which of course didn’t take long to bring him close to his end. Astarion had to still his hips and pull his head away from his prize after her second orgasm or else he would threaten to spill his load before doing what he wished.

He wanted to still make love to her. Something he never did before. Something he felt he had to do. Something he needed to do to prove she still was alive and well below him…to show her everything he couldn’t say and to show how he felt about the gift she had given him that was nestled in her belly. Astarion quickly switched position and caged his mate below him before taking his cock in hand to line himself up with her wet and beautiful cunt.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? You don’t have to do this if you aren't. I’m fine with waiting.“ Tav rationalized in case Astarion was pushing himself.

“I want this. I want you. Now, I will only say this once. It bothered me when I almost lost you both. It still does, so please let me feel how alive you are. Stop worrying and let me make love to you.”

Tav mouthed the word ‘love’ in shock before Astarion’s mouth was upon her and his cock has speared her in one quick motion. Tav’s eyes rolled back in her head and her vagina clenched around his cock. Astarion passionately kissed Tav deeply like he had been all night, his left hand held the small of her back and held her close as his hips rolled slowly. The slow roll of his hips ground himself deep into the soft spongy area Astarion was familiar with, the erogenous zone that he drove into when he would help her chase release, but in this case he wanted her to feel good rather than seek out another orgasm. Astarion pulled away from kissing the woman so she could breathe easier since she was still healing.

Tav moaned and Astarion brought his right hand up to her left breast through the clothing she still wore on her upper half. He played with the mass, his thumb over the nipple and massaged the breast with the entire hand. Tav looped her arms around Astarion’s neck and leaned forward to suck on his flesh, leaving an angry purple bruise of her own. This made Astarion chuckle.

”That’s right.” Astarion slammed his hips into her to accent this “I’m yours” This only made Tav moan louder and Astarion loved it. He loved feeling her alive and hearing her heartbeat speed up under him. He loved making her feel good but most of all, he loved that he was present. He did not disassociate during the act once. Astarion sped up a little so he wasn’t teasing his love.

Astarion stopped playing with both breasts at this point and instead he picked up both legs at the knee and began pounding into her at a faster and deeper speed. Astarion wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out and he wanted her to come before he did. Astarion dropped the top of his hand to her clit and circled it with the pad of his thumb. He could see her throwing her head back and forth. She was close.

“Bite me!”

“I can’t. You almost died! You need time to get your blood back.” Astarion upped the speed once more so he was pistoning his cock inside her. Astarion was in complete bliss but it took everything in him not to spill himself before she crested first.

In a blissful stupor, Astarion spilled something from his mouth he still was deliberating. Something he was sure of but was scared of. Something that although he was sure, he told himself a myriad of excuses as to why it can’t be true and so he needed more time. Essentially it boiled down to him being so drunk on sex that Astarion said something he never would during sex that he could not take back.

“I love you, Tav.”

Tav crested with this and threw her head back. Her body convulsed and contracted as Astarion felt the tissue surrounding his cock get tight and throb. It was like her body was pulling and drinking him in, begging for his spend so Astarion let go and gave her it. After two more thrusts he stilled for a moment and then slowly rode out the orgasm as his come coated her insides. The entire time he was present, he was aware and he felt everything. This was new to him. This was exhilarating and felt like nothing he ever did before. It was by far the best sex he’d ever had, too. Considering this was the first person and only person who chosen him regardless of his past and loved him. The only person who made love to him rather than fucking him and forgetting him? Astarion could see why this was so different and why they mattered so much. It was in this moment as he was coming down from his high that he remembered what he said.

Did he love her though?

Just looking at the tussle haired goddess in front of him who would give and had almost given her life for him, he knew the answer. She had given him a child. She had helped him in much more that that and soon, they were going to gain his freedom. Astarion chuckled. He may be slow on the uptake he thought to himself because he really did love her. He thought he needed time. He thought he needed a comparison. He thought he needed a great many things but he needed only her.

He loved her.     

Withdrawing his length from her and trying to not let his spend coat the floor much, Astarion laid down next to her and held her close. He kissed her deeply and she moaned into the kiss, bringing her hand up to his cheek and tracing his cheek bone with the pad of her thumb. A moment later he pulled back to let her speak.

“Not that I’m complaining, that felt really good, but what got into you? I thought you weren’t ready yet.”

Astarion just smiled. “It’s simple. I’m ready now. Between you being pregnant and what happened yesterday. I needed to feel you alive…”

“But…”

“I was present through it darling. I can make love to you.”

“So…because I was hurt you wanted to have sex?” Tav was confused still. “And what does being pregnant have to do with this?”

Astarion sighed and kissed Tav on the nose before answering the questions.

“I needed to feel you alive and well, and with the pregnancy? Something about you being pregnant makes me want to take you again and again. It’s like I have a basic need to fill you now that I know you’re carrying life. It doesn’t make sense, I know it doesn’t make sense, but that doesn’t stop me from getting hard at the thought of your swollen belly in a few months. I can’t keep my hands off you, my sweet.”

“If you are okay with it and it doesn’t bother you…then it doesn’t bother me. I enjoy being intimate with you but I am just as happy with waiting if you would rather wait too. You are what matter to me, not sex. You.” Tav kissed Astarion’s forehead at this who smiled.

“That’s why I love you so much. Even with all the hormones flooding your body, making you want and changing you to carry our baby, and yet you still put my…complications first.” Astarion whispered against her flesh as he kissed her cheek and nibbled her earlobe.

“You said that during sex, too. Do you mean it?” Tav asked, now propped up on her elbows.

[topoeiaz]

Chapter 1: From Me to You I'd Love to See Me From Your Point of View (HP) Tom Riddle x OC

18+ blog • minors dni

word count: 2.3k

hp masterlist • pov masterlist • ao3

Mid-June, 1943, Hogwarts found itself housing multiple petrified students, one of whom was named Myrtle Warren. The cause of her near-demise had been the bare eyes of Slytherin’s basilisk, who had met Warren’s eyes under the hissed order from its current master.

Tom Riddle had not expected someone to be in the room when he decided to call on the serpent as a glance to the bathroom stalls had told him that none were occupied. As it had turned out, the one stall that was in use had been warded and charmed to contain the caster’s sobs and imitate the next stall’s appearance of unuse. Warren had always been a studious girl, striving to represent her house of eagles ever since her sorting ceremony. Her unfortunate constant as a victim of bullying meant that she knew certain tips that would help evade her tormentors. Hence, her precautionary spells to the stall she had turned to for comfort. It was just unfortunate that this had led to an unwelcomed ordeal.

The click of a door and a feminine voice calling out had Tom panicked. In that split second, he had to quickly come up with an escape route, and what better than to get rid of the witness to his schemes? After all, dead men tell no tales. The basilisk obeyed his rash decision easily and looked straight ahead at the trembling girl. However, graced by Magic, it seemed, the room suddenly lit up in blue and an almost-translucent creature passed by its vision just as Warren locked her eyes with the serpent. Having exposed to its fatal eyes indirectly, the third-year did not collapse lifelessly and instead, stilled in her spot, eyes wide with surprise clear on her face.

Setting the situation with Warren aside for the meantime, both, Tom and the basilisk, turned to regard the glowing newcomer who was now looping in the air to reduce its momentum to a slow pace. As it drew closer to the flabbergasted pair, Tom managed to make out its feline form in all its regalia; whether it was a leopard or a panther – or whatever else, really – he wasn’t well-versed enough in the topic to pinpoint its species.

Now standing only an arm’s reach away from him, he noticed that it was holding onto something oddly shaped with its mouth. It jutted its chin out and he tentatively placed a hand out which seemed to be the correct thing to do as it then leaned in to drop the object onto his palm. Upon closer inspection, the – gift? – turned out to be a paper crane, and its imperfect folds and creases told him that the person behind all this unexpected confusion had manually crafted it. A glance to the big cat showed its patient eyes looking right back at him and he surmised that it wanted him to do something with the paper.

With narrowed eyes, he aimlessly unfolded the crane into a piece of square paper, each step exposing the ink on it which eventually revealed to be words:

               Restricted Section, Shelf 23, Title: Soul Maintenance

Satisfied with Tom’s actions, the patronus chuffed out lightly and stepped back. He watched in hidden awe as it pranced into the air and took speed in leaving the room, back where it came from – that is, through the wall. The light blue tint to the room vanished along with the stranger and Tom paused for a moment to process his current predicament.

“Master. The girl.”

The hissing snapped him out of his thoughts and his gaze fell onto the unmoving student. Filing away the memories of the patronus and the book recommendation to further examine later, he sighed as he considered ways to deal with Warren. Using an Unforgiveable to kill her off would undoubtedly raise alarm in the Hogwarts magical wards so that was out of the question. There were ways he could take her defenceless life and stage the scene to imitate an accident, but one misstep would make the perpetrator traceable and he couldn’t risk that. Perhaps now was the time to take advantage of Rubeus Hagrid’s secret pet and pin the crimes onto the unsuspecting Gryffindor. The petrification aspect could be explained by the venom of the Acromantula after all.

Tom gave himself a moment to fully foolproof the plan, giving his serpent partner the order to lie low as usual in the chamber. A solid plan, he decided. First and foremost, he needed to obliviate Warren. Set on his task, he ignored her unrelated memories and focussed only on the ones he needed. It wasn’t until dinner that day that he learned of his victim’s name.

It was a solemn meal that night. Headmaster Armando Dippet had explained the situation and shared that the aurors have been dispatched to investigate the incidents of the petrification of the student body. Aside from acting to blend in amongst the crowd’s surprise and fear, Tom paid half his attention to Dippet and gave subtle glances around the hall in hopes to catch a hint of the caster behind the patronus charm earlier. Whoever it was, however, seemed to have their guard up and Tom left dinner just as clueless of their identity as ever.

Back at the Slytherin Common Room, under the privacy of a ward, Tom reassured his circle of friends that the investigation would not give away their involvement in the situation. They shared his bafflement when he told them of the mysterious interruption and their letter, none of them any wiser of the possible suspect, to his dismay.

He had borrowed the book that the note had named earlier that day, making use of the Restriction Section pass that Professor Horace Slughorn had entrusted him with. The subject of the book gave him an inkling that whoever the author of the note was, they seemed to have clocked onto his interest in Horcruxes. That was a terrifying thought and there was now a dreaded possibility that they would divulge his secret.

And so, he added another point to his to-do list: prepare a defence for a confrontation of his fascination with the Dark Arts.

The odd thing behind this entire event, besides the mysterious person seemingly knowing his plans, was their willingness to keep his secrets. True, the timing of the patronus and Warren’s situation could have been a mere coincidence, but he didn’t like to leave things up to happenstance. There was now an unknown variable in his plans and so, he had to disappointingly put them on a pause. Their existence was throwing him into a spiral and he could already feel his head hurting. He was never a fan of uncertainty and this prolonged enforced vigilance was already tiring. Magic on his side, however, it wasn’t long before he came to learn of their identity.

June passed by without any more petrification incidents. The culprit behind the victims’ unfortunate situations had been caught about a week after the fateful day and words spread that Hogwarts had Tom to thank for. Tom’s plan a success, Hagrid was apprehended for the crime, citing that his Acromantula had been the cause of the students’ petrified state and that he would be expelled from Hogwarts for the danger he had brought upon the school.

The semester ended on that note and soon enough, the students were boarding the train back to London.

Paying half a mind to the chatter of his friends around him, Tom spent most of the ride with his eyes trained on his book. His thoughts occasionally wandered to the patronus that he had been graced to see in close distance. The Patronus Charm was a highly advanced magic that many schools had apparently decided was too difficult to bother including it in the syllabus. As far as he knew, only some Hogwarts staffs were capable of such magic and they were high on the list of suspects he had considered. To be able to maintain their patronus for a long period of time and have it understand its caster enough to pass on a physical message to someone, he wondered just how powerful the big cat patronus’ caster was.

Bemusement was significant that day when he had met the feline, so it was only afterwards when he had a chance to look back on the occurrence that he had felt the patronus’ effect. It was subtle as he only had his subconscious memory to rely on, but the feeling of calmness had definitely touched him. In hindsight, perhaps that was why he had even bothered to entertain the situation and pay heed to the patronus without losing his total cool. The patronus wasn’t his so it felt odd to feel emotions beside his own. It was weird enough that that was possible to experience – how exactly do you explain feeling another set of emotions that wasn’t yours? Accompanying the peace was elation and pleasantness, and he felt a twinge of bitterness when they felt unfamiliar to him. There was a reason why he could never manage even a wisp of Patronus magic.

Now, as the train slowed down to a stop at King’s Cross Station, he was reminded of the poised figure that stood proudly in that dingy bathroom; the way it emitted the faint but distinct glow onto the room and the rush of magical energy that made up its being. The beauty that Magic was capable of had never failed to impress him and it disgruntled him that the traditions that had shaped Magic into what it was now were being taken away to incorporate more muggle ones. Gone, were the cultures that celebrated Magic.

Clearing his thoughts to ground himself back into reality, he grabbed his belongings and made his way out of the train. Just before he could bid his friends goodbye on the platform, he heard a call of his name. All nearby heads turned to see a girl approaching Tom with an unfailing bright expression, a plain paper bag in hand. This was a familiar sight to many; a girl seeking out Tom with a confession of love, only to receive a – feigned – empathetic rejection from the boy. He could almost feel the pitying gazes around them and yet, the nearing girl didn’t let that deter her.

Despite the absence of her trunk, Tom recognised her to be a student. It’d be slightly concerning if he didn’t, seeing as they have had multiple classes together throughout the past five years. They had never shared a conversation together, however, apart from the quick greetings when they would recognise each other. Theana Grace was friendly enough of a year mate.

Mirroring Thea’s cordial smile, Tom greeted her equally once she had stopped in front of him. “Grace. How can I help you?” He had no doubts that stories of his rejections have made its way throughout his year so, giving credit where credit was due, he applauded her unwavering confidence.

Except, the expected confession did not leave her lips.

“It’s been a while since then but I do hope that Pinky left a good impression on you.”

He had a quick flashback to the bathroom incident with how unexpectedly confused she had rendered him and he simply blinked at her. “I’m sorry- Pinky?”

“Oh! My panther, I mean.”

His lips parted in surprise and his mind halted at her revelation. There was no mistaking which panther she meant and that was two questions answered. One, the identity of the reason behind his unrest this past couple of days; and two, what breed of cat the patronus was.

With these two thoughts ramping up in his brain, he couldn’t have possibly confronted Thea with her actions at this moment, in public, so he settled onto the next quick thing he could think of. “I was unsure if it was a leopard or a panther.”

Amusement widened her grin and she held back a chuckle at seeing Tom with his mind in chaos. Years of examining him unnoticeably in school meant that she could pick up on the tiny tell-tale signs of his inner voice.

“I���m no expert in animals either but I’m fairly sure they’re the same breed.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t often that Tom felt stupefied.

Deciding to cut him some slack, Thea decided to skip the small talk. “As for why I’m here, I’ve got a gift for you.”

She brought her paper bag up and extended it to him, who, in his stupor, accepted it with only little hesitation. He was beginning to theorise that a patronus reflected their caster, in which, both of them had done a great job at catching him off-guard.

“What…”

“I thought you might like these titles so I’ve picked a couple out.” She glanced away for a moment to the station’s clock and he felt urgency when he knew what was coming. Before he could speak, however, she was quick to continue. “Sorry, I’ve got someone waiting for me so I should head home now. I’ll see you next semester?”

“Wait-”

She took a step back and he unknowingly followed after her with a foot forward. Her apologetic look was enough to wrap up their talk and he reluctantly sighed in defeat. “I’ll see you then, Grace.”

With a final bid of goodbye, she turned away and he watched as she made her way to the designated floo system in the station. A rage of green flames, and she was gone. As if she had taken his sense of calmness away with her, he felt frustration settle in his bones when it clicked in his brain that he would have to spend two months without a way to appease the curiosity in him about her purpose.

Ignoring the way some onlookers were gaping at him – they couldn’t hear their conversation so all they had seen was Tom seemingly trying to stop Thea from leaving – he acknowledged his friends’ puzzlement with a simple, “that’s our mystery patronus person.”

More surprise, understandably so.

None of the boys had ever talked about her, him included, so he had no hope that any of them knew anything about Thea. That would change come next semester, he promised. But for now, he had a gift to unwrap.

ao3 🌱 topaz 🌱 masterlist

don’t steal my work, claim it as your own, upload it to another site, or use it to train AI

dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive & @saradika-graphics

[indianspellcaster]

Love Spell Casters Near Me

Love Spell Casters Near Me | Spell To Make Someone Contact You

Love Spell Casters Near Me - Bring Ex Love Spells Caster Near Me

[songofsutarima]

Lifetime Love

Aloof, cold, withdrawn.

Yelling before dawn.

Mean, angry, scared,

Slashing and hissing when challenged or dared.

How this is all that some can see,

I must say, is totally beyond me.

Well, not totally, but certainly beyond,

And to them, I respond.

Have patience, sit and wait,

Have stillness be your state.

The approach will come, eventually,

And then trust can be gained, potentially.

A chase doesn’t work for someone faster,

Neither do charms for any spell-caster.

But with quiet presence and calm

They will eat from your palm.

“They scratch and are rough!”

They’re showing love tough,

And what they’re asking is

“Will you stay long enough?”

They need to know how much it’s worth,

For how much longer after a kitten’s birth,

You will stay and love them

And give them safety on this earth.

It’s a test, and an important one at that,

So they and your arm get in a bit of a spat,

Because if you will stay for the punishment,

They can trust you in combat.

“I’m always awoken, in the middle of the night”

Because they want you to see morning’s light.

And because it is comfort to be so very near

And vulnerable with one you hold dear.

To some it sounds and, apparently, appears needy,

But you keep all your attention to yourself, and that’s greedy.

You’re the whole world to them, and they just want a little of you,

Because they know you have a whole other life after them too.

[possiblyeldritch]

Hrnnngg, I really need to talk about why I love playing DnD with my friends and why I love their characters.

Rambling below the cut. It’s long.

SO,

My friends and I have been playing the same DnD campaign for about two and a half years now and I absolutely love their characters. It’s something I’ve said to them multiple times but I don’t think I’ve ever truly expressed just how much I love these funky little guys.

Obviously, when the campaign started, the characters weren’t that fleshed out and half our party was new to DnD, so my best friend (another player) and I had to teach them, but it didn’t take long.

Their characters were kind of generic at the start, I’ll admit, but through guidance from their resident author (me) and through roleplaying/slow progression, their characters grew to feel like real people who reacted to world in a very real way.

Let’s start with Isaac. Isaac is a human sorcerer played by a friend who was new to the game. Isaac was the only full spell caster in the party. Isaac started the campaign with no backstory to speak of and his personality was just the generic grumpy character. However, as time progressed and I talked with Isaac’s player more, we were able to create a real backstory for him, and it was one that helped to put his personally into a realistic context.

> Isaac was a slave, sold off to flesh traders by his birth parents. He killed his captors and escaped from them during a thunderstorm one night while aboard a ship. The storm awakened him to his sorcerer blood and allowed him to destroy the ship through the storm magic he carried (this also ties into the main plot of our campaign because the villain was the god of storms).

> The impact of Isaac being a slave carried into his adult life, aka, his personality during the campaign. One of Isaac’s main traits that was originally played for laughs was that fact that he was a mean, distrustful, drunk. He spent most of his money on alcohol and he was generally rude to everyone. It wasn’t until many sessions later (and some character progression) that Isaac finally told the party about his time as a slave and showed them the scars that covered his back. Suddenly, he wasn’t just a generic angry drunk, instead he was a man who was hurt and struggles to trust people. But he would begin to trust others and that would lead him to becoming kinder (although begrudgingly).

In order to get full context for Isaac, I need to talk about Zulton, the one person in the party who proved himself trustworthy enough to make the sorcerer open up and allow himself to heal. That character is Zulton.

Zulton is played by my best friend. Zulton is a Minotaur paladin. Zulton is best described as a big sweetheart who genuinely wants to help people. He was not a simple, generic character in the first session, his player came prepared with a backstory that would shock the other characters when it was revealed.

> Zulton was orphaned at a very young age and was taken in by a pair of adoptive parents who raised him in an unnamed village somewhere near a forest. Zulton grew up learning how to hunt animals and track prey. It would be during one of these hunting expeditions that he would meet a man that would change his life.

> Zulton became quick friends with the man and the two began hunting together. The man would gain Zulton’s trust and that would be the downfall. The man manipulated Zulton into thinking he was good when in reality, the man was a werewolf who wanted nothing more than to make the people of Zulton’s home into his prey. Everyone Zulton ever knew would be killed by the man, and he would be left as the only survivor.

> I mentioned that Zulton was a sweetheart and that he was a paladin, but what I failed to mention is that he is a Paladin who swore an oath of vengeance against the man who killed his family. Zulton is a kind person because he has seen the evil of the world and he wants to protect others from it, but underneath the hopeful mask he wears, he is a horribly broken man filled with a boiling hatred for the man who killed his family.

But Zulton only brought up his backstory once with the party and he did it to help Isaac. Zulton may be someone fueled by rage, but he is still a good person. He wants to help and he wants to make the world a better place because he knows just how much it can suck. It’s his persistent kindness and genuine love for others that helped him finally crack through Isaac’s hard exterior and make the sorcerer confide in Zulton.

The dynamic of the party is always interesting to me because the characters feels so real, and my friends and I have often agreed that the party has the same energy as a bunch of coworkers. But, when we talk about Isaac and Zulton specifically, we all agree that those two are genuine friends and that’s because of how they treat each other and respect one another.

Now let’s talk about Raymond. He is played by my brother. Raymond is a halfling fighter. Raymond is an agent of chaos. Raymond is a cryptid. Raymond may or may not be a trickster deity who just wants to have some fun.

Raymond has no real backstory to speak of, and that may sound like he’d be a boring character to some, but not to us. Raymond’s lack of a backstory is what makes him interesting, that, and the way my brother chooses to play him.

Raymond likes to have fun and collect woodland animals as pets. Raymond likes to play pranks. Raymond likes to be someone who tags along with the party whether they (Isaac) like it or not.

He is persistent. He is strong. He is crafty. And he is a walking mystery. Raymond likes to randomly talk about little bits of his past during party interactions but then refuse to elaborate, causing chaos amongst the party and making them wonder more and more what this little man is exactly.

Because he is played as a mysterious, almost cryptid like man who just likes doing things for the hell of it, Raymond very quickly became the comedic heart of the party. This love of being a prankster and general nuisance cause Isaac to take a disliking to Raymond resulting in a friendly rivalry that usually helped bring the party close together.

Finally, the character who was a later addition to the party: Veda. Veda is a satyr ranger. Veda is from the Feywild. Veda is a pothead. Veda is the woman out of place in this story.

> Veda’s backstory is simple. She was a nuisance in the feywild, partying too hard and causing to many problems. So, she was booted out until she could learn to behave. This led to Veda meeting Raymond and him claiming her as one of his many pets, refusing to acknowledge that she was not a goat but instead a person.

Veda was introduced to the party as a newcomer, someone who’d never seen the world before or who understood the conflict the party was involved with. She was the perfect way for me to give more exposition about the world while also fitting nicely into the party as the last missing piece to make the dynamic whole.

Veda was a kind person who didn’t understand why the party would sometimes jump to violence to solve a problem and this created conflict. She always wanted to talk things out and find alternative solutions, which were often supported by Zulton, the unofficial voice of the party.

But she would soon have to accept that the main antagonists were not of the negotiating sort. They wanted violence and death, so she had no choice but to follow the party’s lead and handle things with violence. This resolution of violence actually broke Veda’s original character of being a carefree, flirty fun loving girl. She became someone who had her original worldview, forged of privilege, shattered. She did not experience the tragedy of Isaac and Zulton, nor did she have the almost uncanny knowledge and desires of Raymond. She was a person who grew up with privilege and was then forced to face the world as it was.

This break in her character changed her as a person. She suddenly became more thoughtful, down to earth, reasonable and mature. But even though she lost her rose colored world, she didn’t let it hurt her basics. She was still kind. She was still good. The world beat her down but she still stood up and assessed the wounds of others before her own.

Part of the reason she was able to keep her hope and her kindness is because she had the help of Zulton and a recovering Isaac to hold her in reality and remind her why they fought with the people she had wanted to talk down.

Veda was a good person who wanted good things for others even if she often felt powerless to help.

The core of why I love these characters and why I struggle so much to explain it is because these silly guys, played by my friends, are genuinely well made characters. They aren’t perfect. They aren’t Mary Sues or cardboard cutouts. They are real, nuanced people who experience struggles, happiness, conflict with the world, conflict with each other, and conflict with themselves. They are people who have all experienced hurt and betrayal, but it was through opening up to each other and finding others like themselves that they were able to get better together. We often joke about their dynamic being that of coworkers, but genuinely, I believe they are a found family. They are unlikely friends who found each other through circumstances that would change their lives.

They are not perfect, but they are good people who were hurt and who believe no one else should have to experience avoidable misery. They want to be a force of good, despite everything that has hurt them and tried to push them down a darker path.

I love this party because they are little pieces of my friends. They are pieces of their beliefs, their personalities, their personal histories, their emotions, and of their own insecurities.

I love these characters, because they ARE my friends, and through our funny sessions of fighting evil and role play, I think we were all able to open up to and help each other, whether we realized it or not.

[lunawoona11]

I would eat up as much as you’re willing to share about the Rose Twins, honestly. I’ve been a bit obsessed with the Lindworm story since seeing the OSP video on it, and another comic by someone (and I also love that Edel is a girl like the white rose was meant to give the Queen).

Thank you so much! the story is still in the early development stage but i'd be more than happy to share more(And i know what you mean, the OSP video is what inspired me to create the rose twins)

before i go on another tangent. The Rose twins now have Profiles on toyhouse! which goes into detail about their personalities and backstories.

With that out of the way. Lets get into the (disjointed) lore.

in the setting of rose twins every landmass(Island, Continent, islet,etc) has a soul, known as an earth spirit, with the earth spirit of the Island Decerith sits on being called Eversyl.In some cases nations will be named after the Earth spirit of the landmass on which they stand, though not always especially in the cases of nations that span across multiple islands and thus multiple earth spirits. Though normally incorporeal, it is has been said that earth spirits will take form in times of great crisis.

Legend tells of the lost Continent and the mageocracy of Ivapherus that once stood there alongside many other countries. They speak of how the high mage council sought to harness the power of their earth spirit for their own by trapping it, but instead ended up destroying it causing the entire continent to sink into the sea.

Magic in this setting in a volatile force, though anyone has the potential to wield it it is extremely rare to find someone who will take the risk to do so and even rarer to find someone who succeeds. Magic is extremely difficult to control and requires near perfect execution and concentration and failing in either can result in dire consequences, inflicting curses on the caster and often the surrounding area, a wound that never heals.The curse that affects both of the rose twins and their mother was a result of the queen botching up a magic ritual by eating both roses instead of just one,and comparatively to how other curses in the past have gone, they were relatively lucky. People Like Zeris Firamain are known as Mage scholars, they study the history and mechanisms of magic but do not dare attempt actually casting a spell(Considering that wielding magic is the equivalent of wielding a nuclear bomb)

Lindworms are rare creatures, though documentation of their existence is substantial enough that only a few still think of them as being mythical, much about them remains a mystery even to the most learned of scholars.(To the point Edelweiss has never even seen another Lindworm)

The Hardships and Tragedies brought on by the perpetual winter have led to desperate measures being taken by Decerith's citizens in order to survive. This includes some resorting to banditry just to be able to put food on the table and even some who poach rare creatures (Like Lindworms) to sell their sought after parts.

The losses caused by the perpetual winter and the kingdom being ill-prepared to deal with it's sudden appearance have also bred some resentment for the royal family, leading to the formation of groups acting out on this blame, the most notorious and prolific of these being Wulfrost.Wulfrost seeks to assassinate the crown prince in order to deprive the queen and king of their only child, just as so many of them have lost loved ones to the winter(And they very nearly succeeded when Rowan was younger)

That's all i'll be able to share for now without diving into spoiler territory. But hopefully sometime in the future i'll be able to share some writing snippets. Thank you again for the ask anon!

[letters-from-dekarios]

(I'll be writing this from the perspective of my bardlock if you'll indulge me lmao this is such a cute concept, kore!!!)

Greetings from the jewel of the North!

Hello, I hope you found my bottled letter, I tossed it in a river on my walk home (I hope the seal worked). I am a musician and a very talented spell caster (not to reignite the hells of course) it's just turning to winter, so I think I'd like to keep a pen pal to keep me warm. I have a few questions- if you don't mind..

1. What is your favorite tea

2. What is your favorite cake

3. If you could travel to anywhere in ferûn where would it be.

(enclosed is a sketch of a teifling with braided hair chowing down on a cake. Below it is slightly scribbled "my answers on the back!!" )

It is signed

Lia Obbon

House Obbon, Neverwinter

Dearest Lia,

I do hope this letter finds you well. In both good times, and bad, it is always nice to have someone to correspond with. I wish you all the best as you continue in your journeys.

It was much to my surprise that this bottle happened to land near me. Rarely do I indulge myself in catching a cold during this time of season but, alas, here I am.

I do have to add, your craftsmanship with the sealing of this letter left much to the imagination! It was sealed quite tightly, I almost believed I hadn’t been meant to open it.

Perhaps, a day in the long distant future, you will be able to prove your magical skills to me. I’ll have you know I am a fairly talented magic-user myself. Chosen by the Mother of the Weave, Mystra, at a young age, I do fancy myself a spell or two.

Though I’ve not dabbled in the arts, any further than a doodle or two, your rendition of what I can only assume to be yourself is lovely.

Ah, I’m sure I’ve bored you well enough with all my talk. It’s about time I answer your questions.

1. While you can never go wrong with a traditional green or herbal, I pleasure myself in a nice black tea. Somewhere along the lines of the Earl Grey family, I’d say. Quite the pleasure with a bit of milk and honey, if you ask me.

2. I tend to stay away from sweets, but I cannot help myself when placed in the reach of a good chocolate cake. Mundane, I know, but there is something about the richness of it that I must indulge in.

3. I hail from Waterdeep, there’s not too much you can go wrong with here. However, I have always wanted to venture out towards Procampur. The city there is rich with history, to be able to even get a mild glimpse of our past as a civilization would be enough satisfaction for a lifetime.

I hope my answers are suitable to whomever you believed would receive this message. It surely has come a long way since you wrote your first letter. Perhaps the following spell will do you well as winter comes to a head.

Attached is listed the instructions for performing a ‘fireball’ spell.

Since it would be awfully rude to not ask you a question or two, I’ve come up with a few of my own.

What is your go-to spell in any situation you’re thrown into? Don’t hold back on this one- I’m a man of many studies, you can’t confuse me with my focus in life.

What is your favorite food? Mine happens to be a soup made by my mother. Though a grown adult now, there’s nothing like the love of a home-cooked meal.

Lastly, but certainly not least, why don’t dragons eat paladins?

The answer, written on the back of the paper, reads ‘Because they taste lawful! Good one, isn’t it?’

I do hope that this reaches you before winter’s end. Stay warm, my friend, and don’t let the frost giants bite.

From the desk of,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔, 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑

text reads: gale dekarios, waterdeep

[localartnerd]

I can't Lose You Again! (The Arcana One Shot)

“Caster, I’m home!” Asra called through the shop, setting his stuff down.

“Friend?” Faust hissed, sliding off Asra’s shoulders and onto the counter, only to be greeted by Fauna, Caster’s familiar. Fauna ran in circles around Faust as Asra ventured further into their home to look for his partner.

“Gone!” Fauna squeaked out, skidding to a stop by the edge of the counter closest to Asra.

“Gone? What do you mean ‘Gone’?” Asra asked, turning to Fauna.

“Left!” Fauna chirped, Asra’s face fell at the thought. Caster left without Fauna? That was damn near unheard of from the blonde. Asra ran to their room, hoping to find a note, or something that said where they went. He knew they had been struggling, it was nearing the time they died, they always seemed to struggle more around this time of the year. Grieving the person they used to be. What they could and couldn’t remember.

Upon entering the room, Asra found a folded piece of paper, with his name written on the blank backside. Beside it, was Caster’s ribbon that they wore to keep their hair up off their neck. They vowed never to leave the small shop without it. Asra felt what was left of his heart sink into his stomach. He picked up the folded paper and opened it, his eyes scanning each word.

Asra,

My love, I am so deeply sorry to put you through, Selene, Julian, and the others through the pain. I simply couldn’t handle it. By the time you read this, I am sure I will already be gone. There is no point in looking for me, I will have already been gone for hours by the time you’ve reached the shop once more. Asra, my shining light, please, take care of Fauna for me. Tell Selene, Vivian, and Portia that I wish nothing but the best for them, and you, my love. Please, find love once again. I was not your only option. Live on for me.

I love you, I am sorry I couldn’t continue on for you, but please, continue on for me.

Forever yours,

Caster Paisley.

Asra couldn’t help but feel choked up, he tossed the paper down and grabbed the ribbon, tears welling up in his eyes. He held the ribbon close to his chest, letting out a choked sob. He rubbed his eyes harshly and went to the front doors of the shop. He used magic to try and sense his partner, hearing a racing heartbeat on the other end, he knew they were still alive. Somewhere, but alive. The heartbeat was faint, meaning Caster had gotten pretty far, but it was racing, they were running, fully alive, but running, or so it seemed like it. Nothing seemed out of place in the shop, so Asra couldn’t imagine what they could possibly be doing, or where they could be going. Asra looked around the streets of Vesuvia and decided to head towards the woods. Maybe Sly or Muriel had seen them? Gods he hoped so. Asra didn’t know what he’d do with himself should Caster actually go through with whatever they were planning. Asra ran past the few people who were still out and about, before he reached the woods. He continued to run until he was out of breath in front of Muriel’s hut, where Sly was outside.

“Asra? What are you doing here?” They asked him, tilting their head and setting their book down, Inanna going up to greet the out-of-breath magician.

“Have.. have you or Muriel seen Caster?” He asked, panting from having run for so long, his lungs burning at the lack of air. Sly nodded their head.

“They came by earlier on their way. Said they just came to say hello. You sound worried? Is something wrong?”

“Which way did they go?” Asra asked, desperation heavy in his tone, his mouth felt dry, his throat hurt, he needed to know what happened to his partner. Sly pointed in the direction that Caster went.

“That way, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I gotta go.” Asra said, racing in the direction that Sly guided him in, he tried the spell one more time, feeling the heartbeat grow less faint as he continued on.

He was going in the right direction. After a while, he came to a very familiar field. He tried the spell again, and their heart rate slowed down immensely, but sounded loud in Asra’s ears. He was close. He was so close to finding them. Asra slowed down to a walk and continued into the field, his left hand glowing from the magic he was using to track his partner. As he continued through the tall grass, he saw a familiar sight— Caster, sitting amongst the grass, looking pale, blood dripping down from their nose, they coughed heavily, their breathing labored. Droplets of blood fell from their mouth as they coughed into their arm. Their golden colored eyes flickered to the sight of Asra, and widened sightly

“As-asra..?” They choked out, coughing more.

“Caster, what happened..?” Asra whispered, kneeling down next to his partner and cupping their face in his hands. So many thoughts ran through his head, his violet eyes filled with tears at seeing his partner– the love of his life– the person whom he shared his heart with, literally speaking— in so much pain. “What can I do?” he asked, Caster closed their eyes and let out a shaky sigh.

“There isn’t anything you can do, Asra.. I-I’m so sorry..” Caster mumbled, tears welling up in their own eyes, making the golden color seem much more vibrant against their unusually pale skin.

“Caster, please! I can’t lose you again!” Asra begged “there has to be a way to reverse the effects!” Asra was panicking as he tried to mull over every spell he knew that may help in this situation. He couldn’t risk doing the masquerade ritual again. Caster placed their hands over Asra’s, squeezing them as much as they could in their weak state.

“My love.. It’s alright…” They mumbled, their eyes getting heavier.

“No! It’s not!” Asra broke down, tears freely flowing down his face “it’s not alright, Caster! I can’t lose you again!” It was true, he wouldn’t know how to handle himself if he lost Caster again. Caster stared at Asra for a few moments before pressing their lips to his. They pulled away with a small smile on their face.

“Remember you told me–” they paused to cough once more into their arm, Asra stroked the back of their head and sat next to them to hold them. “You told me that no matter what life we’re in, we’d always find each other..” Asra bit his lip.

“Yeah, i did say that.. But that doesn’t mean–” He was cut off by Caster having another coughing fit, more blood droplets landing on their arm. “Cas, please, let me help, I’m sure I can find a spell or something to help you! You don’t need to die!”

“Asra. It’s fine. I promise.” Caster told him, resting their head against his chest. Asra held his partner close to his chest, letting out silent choked sobs as he held them. The realization of them actually living their last moments once more finally dawning on him. He was going to lose the love of his life once again.

“I love you, Asra…” Caster mumbled against his chest, closing their eyes.

“I love you too, Caster. I always will.”

Asra heard nothing but silence in response, no hum of acknowledgement, nothing.

Caster had finally passed. Asra couldn’t help but break down even harder, holding Caster’s limp body to his chest, not caring that his white shirt was getting stained from the blood that was dripping from their mouth and nose. His sobs shook his body, he let out the most agonizing yell he could muster. Caster was gone. He had lost the love of his life.

–

At the funeral, Asra was silent the entire time. Selene, Sly, and Vivian tried to talk to him, apologize for his loss, but it didn’t seem to do any good. Even Faust and Fauna were silent. Faust had hidden herself in Asra’s shawl. Fauna hadn’t left her spot on Asra’s shoulder either. Countess Nadia was the one to speak first, delivering a speech about how wonderful of a person Caster truly was, in life and in death. Asra gripped the gladiolus flowers in his hand tighter, he planned on putting them with Caster before they were buried. They were their favorite flower– so much so that they had a tattoo of the plant on their back. It seemed only right to have them buried with something they were so fond of.

–

Asra tried to run the shop as usual, but even frequent customers could tell the air was just different about the shop without Caster. Asra seemed less.. Alive almost. Like a part of him had died with Caster.

Caster truly was his other half.