#oh to be a Great Elf lol

[coockie8]

the Herculean Task of merging Elvish and Traditional East Asian styles for the Eastarians is complete. I think Masami looks great, with the little eastern dragon poking out of her sleeve lol

Bjorn shouldn't be as difficult, because he's from Nord, and they're just vikings (you can disagree, I'm okay with you being wrong). The most difficult part will likely be his Energy Axe, as I'll have to draw glowy shit

Dark Ace will just look as he does in the show + orange tabby on shoulder

[damallarky]

So nothing gets me out of a ten year writer's slump like Dragon Age, apparently. I was going to write a quick character study for my Rook, but then it took a life of its own and turned into a 5000+ word monstrosity.

You can also read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57135346

Anyway, my first fic in ten years. Enjoy!

-

At the Black Swan tavern in Minrathous, an elven man with bright red hair sat on a massive barrel, tuning a lute. At first glance, it would appear that he was entirely engrossed in the instrument. If they paid close attention, however, they would notice his green eyes dart imperceptibly from guest to guest as if taking stock of each person who entered the tavern. 

To be fair, this was exactly what Renan was doing. The Shadow Dragons had been given a tip that the Venatori were having a meeting here tonight. He had been given instructions to keep an eye on them, make a note of how many attended, and if there was anyone there he recognized. 

Ren was good at that, using his talent at the lute, voice, and good looks to get him information, and he used his particular skill set often. Sometimes, he played in chamber halls and ballrooms of the Minrathous elite, and they were goldmines, to be sure. But if he was honest, he preferred the establishments of the working class. One would be surprised at how much information could be gained at the taverns and brothels of the world. 

Even better, Ren was familiar with this particular tavern, having played here countless times before. 

‘See anything good yet, Hope?’ He thought through the bond to his spirit companion, currently flitting between the rafters somewhere. He thought he had caught a glimpse of black feathers once or twice, but he couldn’t be sure. 

‘No. Not yet.’ He heard her say. 

Suddenly, in his mind’s eye, he saw the vision of a mouse cleaning itself on one of the rafters, not noticing the great, winged beast lurking in the shadows a mere foot away.

‘Hope…’, Ren moaned internally, ‘I just fed you.’

‘Well, yes… But I am still hungry.’

‘Well, I don’t want to find puked-up mouse bones on my pillow tonight. Again.'

‘Ugh. Fine.’ Hope grumbled.

Ren could practically feel the eye roll from his companion, and he struggled to keep his face neutral. He was halfway through tuning a string to A when his own stomach began to grumble. He hadn’t had much to eat today, or at all, what little he did have going to fill his daughter Esana’s belly. 

‘Maybe I should catch a mouse for you to eat.’ He heard Hope say. 

‘Thanks, but no…’

‘When was the last time you ate?’

‘In the morning.’

‘Which morning?’

‘…’

‘Renan…’

‘…Yesterday.’

‘RENAN.’

Ren winced against the shrill voice echoing in his head. A man sitting at a table nearby gave him an odd look, to which Ren responded with a sheepish wave.

“Lute strings!” He said in way of explanation. “They don’t make them like they used to.”

The man merely grunted and went back to his tankard. 

‘Look, Hope.’ He said. ‘I promise I will get something to eat tonight after we’re through.’

‘I will hold you to that, Renan.’

The tavern began to fill in earnest as more workers ended their day shift. Amongst the crowd, Ren noticed a group of shifty-eyed men gathering at a nondescript table closer to the back of the bar. It had probably the worst lighting in the entire tavern, but the darkness made it particularly well suited for those who maybe didn’t want to be watched too closely, such as lovers…. Or secretive organizations.

Interesting…

‘Is Esana still in our room?’ Ren asked as he tuned a string to E flat. 

‘Yes,’ came Hope’s reply, ‘She was asleep when I left. Why?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I don’t want a repeat of last time, where she snuck out for an entire hour without anyone noticing after I explicitly told her not to?’

‘Ah, yes. Wherever does your daughter get her complete and utter disregard for authority? It is truly a mystery for the ages.’

Ren couldn’t help but laugh at that. Hope had become quite adept at using sarcasm over the years. 

‘Fair.’ He said. ‘I suppose she does come by it naturally.’

‘What is that mortal saying about apples and trees?’

‘Har har. Alright you made your point.’

Out of the corner of his eye, Ren saw a man walk in that he recognized. The thin, balding man was a Magister, albeit a low-ranking one. Ren couldn’t remember what the man actually did in the Magisterium, exactly, only that it was something asinine.

Asinine or note, that didn’t explain what he was doing here, of all places. The Black Swan was a little too plebeian for most Magisters.

‘Well, well.’ He thought ‘Look who’s slummin’ it up with the rest of us. Interesting.’

‘That is the man in charge of grain tax collection!’ He heard Hope say.

‘He is?’ Ren asked. ‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I pay attention, Renan.’

‘Oh… Well, I’m glad one of us does…’

Ren’s interest peaked even further as he watched as the magister walk to the back, taking a seat at the table with the group Ren had noticed earlier.

Very interesting…

‘Alright, it looks like the Venatori dinner party has started. Table in the back.’ He said. ‘Let’s get to work, shall we?’           

‘We shall. Good luck, Ren.’

‘You as well, Hope.’

Ren walked up the stairs to the small stage at the front of the bar. With a bright grin, he played the first few notes of the song on his lute and began to sing.

“Oh, come along with me, love.

Come along with me.

Come for one night and be my wife.

And come along with me.”

While still playing the notes to the chorus on the lute, Ren stopped singing to address the crowd.

“Grata! Bienviedo! Welcome good people of Minrathous.” He said. “My name is Rook, and I am here to add a little song to your evening. But enough with the pleasantries! The night is young, and I don’t know about you lot, but I am far, far too sober!”

His grin broadened as the crowd began to laugh and cheer. Ren heard a few of them shout, “Here, here!” and his playing grew stronger as he egged the crowd on further. 

“So, let’s raise a glass,” Ren crowed, “and let the night of drinking and debauchery begin!”

And, with that, he began to sing once more, his voice strong and clear.

“Well it is of a jolly butcher, as you might plainly see,

As he roved out one morning in search of company.

He went into a tavern and a fair girl he did see

And said ‘Come for one night and be my wife,

Oh come along with me!’”

Ren jumped off of the stage and began to weave in and around the tables as he continued his song. 

“He called for liquor of the best

And he made such fortune play

‘Come have a drink, it'll make us think

That it is our wedding day’”

‘I cannot hear them, Renan.’ He heard Hope’s voice say in his head as he played. ‘Distract them so I can fly down and slip underneath their table.’

Ren began to maneuver himself to the back of the bar, stopping every so often to play at another table to make it look less conspicuous. He danced around a waitress as she was carrying mugs of ale, giving her a bright smile that made her blush prettily. Finally, he stopped at the Venatori’s table, placing his foot on the edge of the table top with a thunk. Balancing his lute on his knee while he played, he leaned forward and winked at the Magister, who fumed. So focused were they all at the elf and his sheer audacity, that they didn’t notice the small black figure silently fly down from the rafters, dodge the various foot traffic, and tiptoe underneath the table.

‘I made it, Ren!’ Hope crowed, triumphantly.

Ren beamed at the crowd and continued his song.

“Well, he called for a candle to light their way to bed

And when he had her in the room these words to her he said

‘A sovereign I will give to you for to embrace your charms.’

And all that night, that fair young maid lied in the butcher's arms.

Oh, come along with me, love

Come along with me!

Come for one night and be my wife

And come along with me.

Well, about one year later he went roving out once more,

And he went into the tavern where he'd often been before.

He wasn't in there very long when his fair maid he did see,

And she brought forth a baby three months old and placed it on his knee.”

Some of the crowd began to chuckle as they realized where the song was going. Ren’s playing picked up in volume as he reached the punch line. 

“And when he saw the baby, he began to curse and swear

And he said unto that fair young maid, ‘Why did you bring him here?!’

‘Well, he is your own, kind sir’, she said, ‘Do not think me strange

Well, that sovereign that you gave to me, well I gives you back your change!’”

The crowd burst into raucous laughter, and Ren couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as he finished the song.

“Oh, come along with me, love

Come along with me!

Come for one night and be my wife

And come along with me!”

With a flourish he played the last few chords as the crowd’s laughter turned into applause. He gave a bow, and as he stood back up he saw a flash of red dart through the crowd.

“Dammit.” He muttered. 

‘What happened?’ He heard Hope ask. He turned to the crowd.

“Thank you! You have been a wonderful audience!” Ren exclaimed. “Don’t forget to tip your waitresses! If you need me, I’ll be by the bar.”

The crowd quickly went back to their food and drink, and Ren made a beeline for the bar. 

‘I thought you said Esana was sleeping.’ He demanded through the bond. 

‘She was!’ The spirit replied. ‘I thought she was. Oh! But she might have been faking, now that I think about it. The snoring was a bit too loud.’

To which Ren could only groan.

The Maker had to have it out for him. That was the only explanation. 

‘Don’t move, Hope.’ He said. ‘Keep listening in on the Venatori. I want to have something to report back to the Dragons before the night is over.’

“Only one song tonight, Rook?” Asked one of the waitresses, Rosa, as she carried a tray full of food and drink.

“Can’t be helped, Rosa.” He said as he approached the bar. The barkeeper, a jovial older man with a wiry frame and bright eyes named Julius, poured him a glass of water with a knowing grin.

“Loose something?” He asked.

“Ugh.” Was Ren’s articulate response. Julius only laughed as Ren downed the water in one gulp before setting the glass back down on the counter with a thunk.

“You didn’t happen to see which way she went, did you?” Ren asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Aye. She snuck out the back door.” 

“Thank you, Julius.”

“Best of luck, Rook!” 

-

Ren stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the cool night air to center himself. He needed to remain calm. Esana couldn’t have gotten far.

In the distance he heard the sound of cheering. Children cheering. He relaxed slightly; he had a feeling whatever was going on, Esana was probably around, if not directly involved.

He followed the sound of cheering until he turned a corner and found himself staring at a veritable horde of children all gathered around a circle. In the middle, playing what looked like a game of bones against an older human boy, was Esana.

“That looks like another game for me!” She exclaimed as she grabbed the copper pieces and put it in her already fairly substantial pile of winnings.

The boy didn’t seem too pleased. 

“That’s not fair!” He cried. “You cheated!”

“How do you cheat at bones, Dax?” One of the other children asked. Dax’s face only grew more red as the other children began to laugh. 

“Yeah, Dax.” Esana taunted as she began to count her winnings. “Don’t be a sore looser.”

“Why you-“

Whatever Dax was about to say was cut short by the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the alley. Out of the darkness, a behemoth of a man emerged. He had lank, dark hair that clung to his face and a scar that ran from one side of his neck to the other. He approached the children, most of whom had already scurried away, and sneered at them with yellowing teeth. 

“What do we have here?” The large man asked as he loomed over the children eyeing the pile of money. “You brats got some money for me?”

“No!” Esana cried. “That’s mine!” She stood up, putting herself between the man and the coin. 

Ren could have sworn his heart had stopped beating then, as he watched the giant man loom over his daughter. His daughter, who looked so very small standing in that man’s shadow. Thinking quickly, Ren grabbed a bottle from a nearby drunkard and flicked a coin his way before the man could complain too much.  

“What did you say, little knife ear?” The man sneered as he pulled an out a wicked looking dagger. “Perhaps I should teach you a lesson of what happens when pests like you talk back to your betters.”

Esana’s eyes widened as the knife was held merely inches from her face. The man made to grab her, but before he could do anything, Ren staggered out of the darkness as if drunk, practically barreling into the man. He made a show of spilling the contents of his bottle all over the man’s clothes. 

“M’so sorry, serah.” He said, slurring his words together. “It seems I-“ and he hiccuped here for effect “-I can’t seem to hold me liquor! Can’t seem to carry it neither.”

Ren gave his best drunken laugh as he pointed to the almost empty bottle of booze. Predictably, the man took the bait, grabbing Ren by the collar and shoving him hard against the wall. 

“Stupid elf! I should gut you here and now!” 

Too busy threatening him, the man didn’t notice Ren pull on the Fade, summoning flames in his left hand. 

“Gut me?” Ren asked, feigning innocence. “While you’re on fire?”

The man stared at Ren in confusion before bursting into laughter.

“On fire? You must be drunker than I-“

Suddenly, the man let out an inhuman screech as Ren held the flame against the man’s alcohol drenched clothes, quickly setting them ablaze with a satisfying woosh. The man dropped Ren as he tried to quickly strip off his burning clothes.

Ren, for his part, didn’t need to be told twice. Grabbing his daughter, he took off running down the narrow alley. 

They had made it almost halfway back to the Black Swan when he stopped to catch his breath. He looked down at his daughter and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Getting down on one knee he began to look her over.

“Are you alright?” He asked. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. I’m fine.” 

Ren nodded. That would have to do. For now, at least.

Together, father and daughter ran the rest of the way back to the Black Swan. When finally they arrived at the back entrance, the adrenaline seemed to leave Ren all at once, leaving him drained. He sank onto one of the large crates nearby, placing his head in his hands as the reality of what almost happened hit him like a druffalo. 

Esana stood there nervously, sensing, perhaps, that she had crossed a line somewhere. 

“Papa, I’m-“

Ren cut her off. 

“Esana,” he began, frustration filling the void where fear and adrenaline once were, “How many times have I told you that you cannot go out at night on your own?”

“I was just-“

“And yet, you continue to deliberately disobey me. And for what? A handful of coin?”

“It wasn’t just a handful…” she muttered. 

Something inside Ren snapped.

“HE COULD HAVE TAKEN YOU!” Ren shouted as he gripped his daughter’s shoulders desperately. “PAWNED YOU OFF AT THE SLAVE MARKET! OR WORSE, HE COULD HAVE KILLED YOU! DUMPED YOUR BODY SOMEWHERE AND I WOULD HAVE BEEN NONE THE WISER. WOULD THE COIN HAVE BEEN WORTH IT THEN? WELL?”

Hot, angry tears streamed down Esana’s face as she pulled herself out of her father’s grip and ran into the tavern. Ren tried to grab her but she was too quick.

“Esana!” He yelled. “Esana get back here!”

Instead, he heard the sound of a door slamming from upstairs, where the guest rooms were. He looked around the tavern and noticed that it was mostly empty, save for a few stragglers who seemed too deep into their cups to notice the elven family drama going on around them. He also noticed a distinct lack of Venatori. They must have left earlier as well. 

Shit.

With a sigh, Ren felt all of the previous anger bleed out of him, leaving him bone-tired. With great effort, Ren dragged himself to the bar, rubbing at his eyes before anyone could see the moisture in them. 

“Julius,” he called, “Can I have another glass of water, please?”

The barkeep popped out from the kitchen, a bowl of something heavenly smelling in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other.

“I’ll do you one better.” He said, setting the bowl, some sort of stew, in front of Ren. “Here, eat. You look like you’re about to keel over where you stand.”

“Julius, you are a gentleman and a scholar.”

“Yes, yes. Tell me something I don’t know.”

Ren took a few spoonfuls before his appetite left him entirely as the monster currently gnawing at his stomach felt more akin to guilt than hunger. He stirred the soup in lazy circles with his spoon, occasionally making a half-hearted attempt at taking a bite before giving up entirely. 

“I need to go talk to Esana.” He said with a sigh.

“Rook, wait…”

Ren looked up and was surprised to see the old barkeep looking at him with eyes full of understanding… and a bit of sorrow.

“I don’t usually tell people this for obvious reasons, but… my father was also a freeman.” He said. “And an elf, too.”

Ren’s eyes widened. A lot of things about Julius suddenly made sense. The slight build, the bright eyes…

The easiness in which he accepted Ren and Esana… 

He looked at the man in a whole new light then, silently wondering how he never noticed the way Julius’s ears tapered to a point, a tell-tale sign of the man’s heritage.

“I’ll be.” Ren exclaimed. “I’d had no idea I was in the presence of a fellow knife-ear. I’ll make you a flower crown. Maybe even show you some of my favorite places to frolic naked in the moonlight.”

“I am quite capable of going to a whore house on my own, thank you.”

Both men burst into laughter, loud enough in the almost empty tavern to draw the attention of the last remaining guests. The confused stares sobered both men up fairly quickly, and Julius continued whatever point he was getting at.

“Before I was born,” he said, “my father had somehow managed to buy his and my mother’s freedom. Never did quite figure out how he managed to pull it off...”

Julius’s eyes grew distant as he stared at something only he could see. After a moment, he blinked, and turned his attention back to Ren. In all the years he had known the man, Ren had never seen an expression so solemn on his face as he did now.

“When I was Esana’s age, I also never… appreciated the sacrifices my father had made for my family. For me... And Maker, there were so many…”

“And you do now?” Ren asked.

“Aye.” Said Julius. “I do now. Very much so. And I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but Esana will too.”

Ren considered the older man’s words as he took a few more bites of his stew. He pushed himself off of the counter and dusted himself off. 

“Thank you, Julius.” He said. “For everything.”

“Anytime, Rook.“

Ren made his way up the stairs and down the hall to where he and Esana were staying. As quietly as he could, he crept in, closing the door behind him. 

They were fortunate enough to stay in a room with two cots this time, an upgrade to their usual fair. He noticed that the cot on the left was occupied by a relatively Esana sized lump buried underneath the blankets. On the desk , underneath an open window, was a rook. It sat atop a wooden perch as it cleaned its feathers with its long, grey beak. 

Hearing the door close, it looked up and flew over to where Ren sat on the empty cot, silently landing on his knee.

“Hey, Hope.” He uttered.

“…Why is your doublet singed?” Was the spirit’s response.

“Good to see you too.”

“Renan…”

Ren looked down at his doublet, his favorite one too, and, sure enough, he noticed singe marks all long the bottom hem. 

And lo, did the Maker say “Fuck this Elf in particular.” He thought.

“I suppose it does not matter. I am sure it can be fixed.” Hope said kindly. Then, through the bond, he heard: ‘Esana was very upset, but she would not tell me what happened.’

‘She decided to pick fights with grown men and then I lost my temper and yelled at her.’

‘Ah. I see.’

Hope climbed up Ren’s arm to perch on his shoulder.

“I think I am going to go out.” She announced. “Stretch my wings for a bit.”

“Have fun.”

Hope rubbed up against his cheek affectionately, nuzzling him much like she had when he was a boy, newly arrived in the Tevinter Imperium and being sold off like chattel.

‘You can fix this.’ He heard her say through the bond. 

With that, Hope flew out the open window and into the warm summer’s night, leaving father and daughter alone to talk. After a minute or two of sitting silently in the dark, Ren spoke.

“I know you’re awake, Esana.” He said. “Can we talk? Please?”

A loud sniffle from underneath the covers was the only response he got. With a sigh, Ren pulled off his boots and set them neatly by his bedside table.

“It’s ok, Esana. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” He said as he took off his now singed doublet. “I’ll talk then, ok?”

Ren took a moment to gather his thoughts. He stared down at his hands, looking at the small knicks and callouses from years of playing the lute. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, and let the loose sleeves reveal old scar tissue across his wrists from where too-heavy shackles had rubbed his skin raw years ago. They certainly weren’t pretty, which was part of the reason why he always covered them, but they weren’t the worst of his scars. He knew his back was a gnarled web of lash marks, fifty in total. They still ached from time to time, too…

He made a vow, long ago, that the Imperium would never hurt him, or his loved ones, ever again. And he intended to keep that promise.

“I love you, Esana.” He said, finally. “And I am very sorry that I yelled at you like I did. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

In the darkness, Ren saw two bright blue eyes (her mother’s eyes, he thought distantly) peek out from underneath the covers, watching him warily. Taking that as progress, he continued.

“The truth is, I was scared. What you did was incredibly dangerous. I truly thought that man was going to hurt you, and that terrified me.”

Esana crawled out from underneath the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over and refusing to look anywhere but her bare feet. Ren noticed that she was already in her nightgown. She must have changed after she stormed upstairs. 

With a small smile, Ren patted the empty space beside him in invitation. Esana quickly crossed the short distance to sit with her father, but still refused to look up at him, even after he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to his side. 

“I just wanted to help.” She said miserably, swiping at her eyes as fresh tears  began to fall. “I thought that if I could earn money like you do, then you would let me join you for once.” 

“Esana…”

“I just wanted to be like you. I’m tired of being treated like a baby.”

Ren tucked an errant lock of red hair behind his daughter’s ear. 

“Esana,” he said, “I don’t need you to be like me. In fact, that’s the last thing in the world I want you to be. And while I appreciate the help, I’m your father. It’s my job to take care of you, not the other way around.” 

“But I want to help!” Esana cried, almost desperately. “I want to be out there, with you!”

Ren chewed his bottom lip as he pondered Esana’s words. He certainly did not want to expose her to the drunks of Minrathous, but he also knew that soon she would be turning thirteen. Too old to stay willingly cloistered away. Maybe he could bring her along every now and then, introduce her little by little to his world in a way where he could monitor her and keep her safe, rather than having her go out behind his back…

Still, he couldn’t help but feel he was missing something. Something important. There was a frantic edge to Esana’s pleading that Ren couldn’t understand. Not for the first time, Ren wished his wife were still alive. Leena would have known what to do. She was good at that sort of thing.

“I’ll tell you what,” Ren began, cupping his daughter’s chin gently, “how about I teach you how to play that spare flute I have? Then, you could play with me. Sometimes.”

Esana stared up at her father with wide, disbelieving eyes. 

“Sometimes!” He reiterated. “Only the jobs that I think are safe, ok?”

“Really?” she asked, excitement and a strange tinge of something akin to relief shining in her eyes.

“Yes.” Ren laughed. “Really.”

Esana launched herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug which he returned without a thought. 

“I love you, papa.” She said.

“I love you, too, Esana.”

Not long after Ren noticed his daughter’s eyelids grow heavy and her shoulders begin to droop. He chuckled as he watched her try to stifle a yawn.

“Alright little Nuglette, I think that’s enough excitement for one day. To bed with you.” 

“Ok, papa.” Esana murmured sleepily as she crawled back into her own cot. Suddenly, that frantic edge that Ren noticed earlier returned.

“Papa…” she said, “Could I stay in your cot? Until I fall asleep?”

“Sure.” Ren said with a small smile.

Esana quickly scurried from her cot to join her father. She snuggled herself up against him, and he felt her relax as if she had been holding in some sort of tension. 

“Esana,” Ren asked as she tucked herself in the crook of his arm, “Is everything alright?”

Esana hastily nodded, not quite looking her father in the eye. Ren sighed.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

Another nod. 

“Ok. Good night, Esana. Sweet dreams.”

Ren didn’t notice Esana wince at the mention of dreams. He didn’t notice his daughter squeeze her eyes shut, desperately trying not to think of the monsters in her dreams that hounded her, begging her to let them in. 

Instead Ren began to sing softly, voice barely above a whisper as he sang an old Elvish lullaby, one that his own mother sang to him when he was little. It didn’t take long for Esana to drift off into the Fade. No nightmares plagued her this time, safe as she was in her father’s arms and a song promising only pleasant things echoing in her ears. 

For Ren, however, sleep evaded him despite his exhaustion. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t mind and was content to watch the rise and fall of Esana’s chest as his daughter slept soundly, snuggled up against him. Truth be told, he cherished moments such as these because he knew that sooner rather than later, his daughter would grow too old to cuddle with her papa. For now, though, he placed a kiss upon his little girl’s brow and held her as tightly as he could without waking her.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, only that it was near dawn when Hope flew in through the window, the first rays of light gently reflecting off of her feathers, giving them a purplish hue. 

“Morning, Hope.” Whispered Ren as he watched her land on the bedside table. 

“Good morning, Renan.” She whispered back. “I am happy to see you two worked it out.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Ren shifted slightly to face his friend. “You were gone an awfully long time. Did something happen?”

“I ran into Neve Gallius. She would like you to meet her later this evening.” 

“Ah… and what did our favorite Ice Queen want? Did she say?”

“Only that she would like to introduce you to an aquantence of hers. Some sort of… novelist?”

“Of course she does…” Ren murmured tiredly, not really paying attention. 

They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the silence of the early morning. Ren was just about to finally drift off to sleep when Hope looked up from where she was preening her feathers and stared out of the window with an unusually concerned expression.

“Renan…” she whispered, so quietly Ren barely heard her. 

“Mmm?”

“There is a storm coming.” Was all she said.

-

Little did Ren know, as he later found himself staring up at the terrifying visages of his Dalish mother's myths, how true those words were about to become. 

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

The scene in Elf, where Walter yells at Buddy to get out, and he leaves after sadly typing out a paragraph on an Etch-a-sketch and is walking around the city sad because he doesn’t fit into elf world or human world and says to himself, “I don’t belong anywhere…”

Turns out that is me

[starshinegazer]

Shoutout Sunday

I just wanted to collect some of the most memorable Astarion fanfics I've read so far and to give them and their authors a big ol' shoutout. These are some of the fics I strongly suggest others to check out, if you haven't yet.

Also, please feel free to comment and recommend your favorites as well! And, if you know of some of these authors on tumblr, lemme know, so I can add them too :) I'm not too good with words, so I'll be slapping some of the authors own words as descriptions (for now). Oh, and do be mindful of tags etc etc... Here goes, in no particular order:

Pieces Still Stuck In Your Teeth by howlsmovinglibrary (@wetcatspellcaster) "The Vampire Ascendent has crossed a line. Eleven years after making the biggest mistake of her life and losing the man she loved, tiefling wizard (now Archmage) Rosalie decides it’s time to put this Astarion in the ground for good. Hopefully, both her head and her heart are strong enough to see this awful task through to its end."

An Honest Lie by howlsmovinglibrary (@wetcatspellcaster) "Astarion and Rosalie think they understand each other perfectly, but they have each fallen prey to the other’s mask. As they both go forward with their adventure, will either of them dare to be honest?"

A Crooked Touch by eyes_of_the_lamb "If you want to read a story where Astarion is sweet from the start and Tav is here to fix him, this isn't the one. If you want to read about two terribly broken men spending a good long while making each other worse before they make each other better, this might be for you. If you thought the in-game romance was a little too easy and it should have been ten times more painful and difficult to convince Astarion he's worthy of love, this is definitely for you."

Perfect Slaughter by Imagineitdear (@imagineitdearies ) "Tyrus, a low-born drow with aspirations for necromantic wizardry, finds none of the hospitality he expected from his new noble patron, Cazador Szarr. Quickly he loses his life and future, his hopes and dreams—only to find something new to fight for in the unlikely arms of Cazador’s least favorite spawn."

A Novel Experience by meanboss (@meanbossart ) "Initially just an epilogue for my own game campaign with my big meaty dark urge drow, turned whole story which I accidentally deleted and am now reuploading, my bad LOL

Hope you enjoy!"

Carving Through The Dark by skitter "The realm is safe and the story is over.

Wren and Astarion descend into the Underdark in search of a new purpose, and learn a few things along the way. Namely, that healing isn't linear and sometimes love takes the long way round."

Blood In The Weave by gingealish "There is no need to breathe, but I miss it all the same. The suffocating silence, the desperate darkness have encapsulated me for I don’t even know how long; It could have been tendays or years. I’ve long since accepted my punishment, stopped trying in vain to crack the seal of my tomb against the onslaught of panic and hunger. Now I lay here, thinking of the friends I’ve lost, the lover who turned on me, and how to finally get even.

Astarion is the new Big Bad Evil Guy. Spawn Tav is rescued by a familiar face. "

When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again by bg_brainrot "You saved Baldur’s Gate almost 300 years ago. You died 150 years ago. On a new life now, you find that memories from your past lead you to a specific silver-haired man. Who was he, and why won't he leave you be? tldr; An Elf-Tav reincarnation story where Tav dreams about Astarion in their nightly reveries and eventually seeks him out once they reach maturity. Things definitely totally go well."

More Than Any Words by mataglap "They have saved the city and possibly the world. All is great and everyone is happy... except Astarion has been banished back into the shadows, and Tav is stuck in an uneven battle with his own oath. He's losing the fight. He knew he would from the moment he fell for Astarion. But he can't lose yet, not before they find a way for Astarion to walk in the sun again."

Inexhaustible Oil by homeward_bound "This is the absolute opposite of a redemption fic. A post-canon, fall-from-grace, "I can make you infinitely worse" kind of story, in which there is no simple happy ending. But there's mystery on the way. And dragons. True love, even. So if you're fine with that, come aboard. It's going to be a wild ride."

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Let's Eat!

(That is, let's live, want, connect... oh, you know what I mean by now)

I like how Yaad and the other living villagers can casually talk with the ghosts, because for all intents and purposes they were also ghosts... In fact, those who stayed and spent centuries going through the patterns of life even though all true meaning had been lost long ago were MORE "ghosts" than those who lost their corporeal forms because they wanted to escape so badly that they went wandering... That's so fuckin' good. I wanna eat this writing.

.

Kabru just randomly walking out of the bushes the second Laios starts considering politics...love him. He was summoned. His PR spidey senses were going off.

.

look at my boy, establishing his own authority.

.

Lol this was me when we moved house last month, and my job was to just stand in the new living room and tell people where to put which box or piece of furniture. It's an important job in a task with a lot of people!

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FUCK YEAH, THAT'S MY MAN! HE LOOKS GREAT!

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fucking love the trope of "one savvy friend in the crowd who deliberately gets a supportive chant going." Of course it's Kabru.

Though it's important to note that the first thing someone called was, "The demon-eater's here!", and there was muttering while no one was entirely sure if that was a good thing or not... Kabru didn't start the rumble of the crowd; the rumble of the crowd is unavoidable, and you have to be aware of that. Laios has always been aware of that, he's just never known what to do about it, and so tried to avoid it. But he's not avoiding it anymore - so Kabru started the hype of the crowd.

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They're both right! In order to eat, you need to kill! A memento of a meal IS a spoil of war!

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They're unhappy bros... /laughing

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Shown: man desperately reassuring himself, and psyching himself up to eat this stupid dragon meat

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DADCHUCK. Istg my father has said the same thing to me.

p.s. oh thank god he's fully dressed again. it was indecent.

.

Marcille is so resigned to this, and so...determined to see it as her own choice. "We all agreed", "I've got to go" - and I'm sure she does see it as her own choice, in a way, because this is how the world has always worked and she knows that. She knew that going in. Those who do ancient magic are arrested by the Elves of the West, that's just the "natural" consequence. She might've gotten away with it if she'd gone undiscovered, or if she'd stayed in the dungeon forever, but she didn't - she chose to pursue her craft, to save Falin, and to do everything after that, too, and so she implicitly chose the consequence with it. If it's unfair, well, thinking that changes nothing, so it's better not to think it.

Until Laios is like, "Actually, I might have political power now? And I'm SO goddamn tired of myself and people I love being punished just for being different, and interested in unconventional things. Let's try something."

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WELL-FUCKING-PLAYED! GET THEIR ASSES, LAIOS! It's especially great because I'm pretty sure he knows the answers to all of this by now? Power move!

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Is she sitting there completely nude except for jewelry and a short robe. Icons only, honestly. Though "we have the luxury of time" feels like so much of a threat from an elf.

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Hey, you did objectively defeat him! Okay arguably the Lion did but Laios did it first, he just also then talked to him, and got grabbed by friendly vine-tentacles. You didn't kill him, but that's not what Delgal asked for anyway!

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thinking about that post that observed that Thistle's driving madness was specifically getting Delgal home for dinner, to eat all together as a family again, and he wakes up to the sound of the people of the Golden Kingdom eagerly inviting the (new) king to eat, and him responding...crying... What is lost is lost, but life will go on.

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The moment when a character decides to lie to another character for their own good is always so compelling. The little moral quandary microcosm.

.

So Yaad did know something of what passed between Delgal and Thistle, that drove Thistle down the path to dark magic. He know what it was his grandfather blamed himself for.

This is SUCH A GOOD AND QUIET-SAD DEATH SCENE, but as a consummate fan of 'actually, living is much much harder than dying, and much more interesting too', I do like to think Thistle lives and has to...figure out what to do with his life. And that 'what to do with his life' ends up including ancient magic mad science with Marcille.

...But honestly, even though that'd be fun for me, it seems almost cruel to Thistle. He's been alive for so long. Those he loved most are gone. He held the demon back from the surface, trapped in those books, for so long, even if it was in no way whatsoever with the good of the world in mind. If anyone deserves this peaceful death in (what he thinks are) his brother's forgiving arms, it's him.

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Unfortunately, my love, as has been ceaselessly proven in this story: that's life.

.

Marcille has caught onto one of the major themes! However, this story still isn't in favor of afternoon special Moral of the Story - not of letting the characters wrap things up with a bow, at least. You just go on living and wanting and learning about and connecting with and killing new things, forever! That's how it goes! You never know everything and you're always a little bit starving!

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I really love this grumpy old man, and I want him to stick around and be one of Laios's advisors. He's an old gnome, he'll die as soon as an average tallman would anyway.

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This is a) very touching coming from Mithrun, who is only just regaining his own will to live, and b) almost tautalogical in this story EXCEPT that it is also clear that merely "wanting" doesn't mean you get to continue to live, it only means that you're alive in this moment - you also need to want to live MORE than whatever's trying to kill you wants to live.

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GREAT VISUALS!

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And then it's so small, so small that she could leave it behind entirely but Falin is still so kind that she picks it up anyway! Falin who looks at everyone and everything - ghosts and brothers and mad mages and dead dragons, the latter of whom were both violently oppressing her soul - and thinkgs "I gotta help." She's so good!

I'm really going to need to write a like 2k post-canon character study about how Falin has part of the spirit of a dragon in her chest which unfurls while she travels abroad and curls up again and hides when she's home with Marcille and especially with Laios, and how it's a metaphor for her own independence but also literally there is the spirit of a dragon. At the end of it she figures out how to nurture and commune with the dragon enough to have her own flight-capable wings.

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THIS IS SO FUCKING COOL-LOOKING. AUTOPHAGIC SELF-CREATION FOR THE FUCKING WIN!!

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YYEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

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fuck it, have a collage, because this bitch-ass website is about to cut off my photos-per-post. It can't HANDLE the sheet joy of Falin resurrection reunion hugs!!

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so many people love her, or at least are really emotionally invested in this now!! /sobs

.

Lmaoooo

Laios: wracked with food poisoning because he ate raw walking mushroom Falin: great distress! Marcille: trying very hard to help, also thinking sooo hard that He Is An Idiot. [btw I love how it looks like she takes up holding her hair back with a band] Kabru: having his weekly moment, as he has for the past many years and will continue to have until he dies, of wondering if he shouldn't really have just killed this guy rather than let him become king

Kabru definitely wrote this whole ending narration btw. This is his press release from like 40 years in the future. And those kids! An orc kid and a kobold kid, and zooming out to show kids of other races, all playing together and going to lunch together!!

And then they all lived, and hungered and ate and killed and wanted and sought understanding and connected with one another and were part of the great circle of life, as happily ever after as one can get.

This story truly was delicious...in dungeon!

[gudfornuthin]

Hiii❤️, are you taking requests for Bernard rn? And if so can you write a Bernard x reader (she/her) where she has a very flirtatious personality and he has a huge crush on her and he lovesss when she’s being that way towards him but when he sees her talk to other people like that he’s kinda jealous and maybe end in some smut ( ofc only if you’re comfortable writing that!<3)

Jealousy looks good on you

Bernard the elf x reader

A/N: ‘tis the season and the Bernard girlies have awakened. I’m shocked at all the support I’ve received from these one shots and I’m so glad to be writing more. This isn’t my best imo, I don’t know where I was going with it so I kinda got carried away, but oh well lol. I have another Bernard request after this one and then I’ll be back to my Beauty and the Beast rewrite. Hope you all enjoy :))

“She’s doing it again.”

“Who?”

“Y/N. She’s flirting with him again.”

“Your obsession with Y/N is becoming a problem.”

This wasn’t the first conversation Curtis and Bernard had had with each other about Y/N. This topic specifically. It was known by the other elves that she was confident, and very blunt when talking to others. That also didn’t stop in the romantic sense. And Bernard knew that. She wasn’t afraid to flirt with him in front of others, and that’s why he loved it so much. It made him feel good. And also slightly embarrassed. Only because he wasn’t used to that sort of attention, especially from a very beautiful girl. He wasn’t great at reciprocating her advances, but he hoped she wouldn’t stop. So far she hadn’t. But a new ‘suitor’ had entered the picture, and Bernard was not happy. Some tall, blue eyed elf that he hadn’t bothered learning the name of was also receiving the flirtatious attention from Y/N, and unfortunately he was much better at dishing it back than Bernard was.

“I’m not obsessed with Y/N,” Curtis rolled his eyes at that remark, “I’m just curious to know why she thinks it’s okay to talk with that guy when they both have a lot of work to do.”

The younger elf snorted. “You don’t seem to have an issue when she’s talking to you and wasting precious work time.”

“You’re not helping,” Bernard huffed, walking away from Curtis and towards the workshop, trying to get the image of Y/N and the tall, blue eyed elf out of his head.

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

It had been a few hours since his last conversation with Curtis, and Bernard had quickly calmed down, busying himself with tasks he had yet completed for the holiday season. However, it hadn’t helped him get Y/N out of his head. From the constant flirting, to seeing her using that charm on someone else, Bernard was unsure where the relationship stood. Was it all a big joke to her? Had she been leading him on the last few months to mess with him? Before he could dive deeper into his existential dread, a soft voice sounded from behind him.

“Hey handsome.”

Bernard froze slightly, and looked over his shoulder to see Y/N walk through the door, a stack of paperwork in her hands and a bright smile on her face. Glitter on her cheeks and nose, sporting a new dress that glimmered in the light, Bernard thought she looked like an angel ready to be set atop the Christmas tree. He shook himself out of his trance, and smiled tightly back at her, unable to form any words. He quickly turned back around, continuing his sort out of different coloured wrapping paper. It wasn’t usually Bernard’s job, but he needed the distraction, and the wrapping room was a quiet place to come in the evenings.

“Curtis told me you’d be in here and I need you to sign these papers for Santa.”

Y/N held the paperwork out towards Bernard, their fingers touching briefly once he reached out to grab them. He placed them on the side of the desk and mumbled a ‘thanks’ under his breath, barely audible. Y/N let out a small huff and strolled around Bernard, taking in his tense form.

She smiled again. “So. How’s my favourite elf doing?”

Bernard didn’t bother looking up from his work. “He’s very busy at the moment,” his tone dull and unwavering.

A hand suddenly came into the head elf’s view, and hit the desk hard, jolting everything laying on top. Bernard jumped back and looked to the side where Y/N stood with eyebrows raised and her mouth pursed.

“Have I done something to upset you?” She asked, crossing her arms and popping her hip to the side.

Bernard wasn’t sure what to say, nor how Y/N might react. He’d never been great at showcasing his feelings, especially in the romantic sense. But this wasn’t just some random girl he’d found cute once and never interacted with. This was Y/N. One of his closest friends, someone he cared deeply for. Who seemed to care deeply about him too. She was also someone he worked with. The possibility of admitting how he felt, and for her to not feel the same, it would no doubt make things awkward. And he’d hate to ruin what they already have. Even if it killed him to see her flirting with someone else.

“You’ve done nothing, I’ve just had a lot on my plate and I can’t handle any distractions at the moment,” Bernard finally replied, trying to keep his voice level.

“Really?” Y/N bit back, “because I feel like you’ve been avoiding me all day. And since when do you spend time in the wrapping paper room? When Curtis told me you were here, I was worried you might be having a mental breakdown.” She ended with a joke, but part of Bernard knew there was truth behind her words.

The head elf felt himself boiling over. His temper was short, and everyone knew that, but when it came to Y/N he was unusually chill. Her presence was good for him. Not at this moment though. He could feel himself ready to lash out, and he was worried what could be said.

“Do I have to explain everything to you? Can I not spend time alone without you knowing where and what I’m doing every second of every day?”

“I’m sorry I care about you and want to know what you’re up to! Sure you can have all the time you want alone, I just don’t like it when you avoid me completely,” by now, both of their voices were shaking and getting louder.

“I thought you’d want to spend more time with your new tall, blue eyed friend,” Bernard instantly regretted his words.

Y/N opened her mouth but closed it almost instantly, her brow furrowed and confusion clear on her face. “What are you talking about?” her voice now considerably calmer.

Bernard could feel the embarrassment wash over him, desperate to think of some excuse, but coming up short. “This morning, I saw you talking to someone. It looked like he was flirting, and you seemed to be doing the same back,” Y/N’s face softened as she begun to realise what and who the older elf was talking about. “It got to me, okay? It bothered me that you were talking to him in that way when,” a slight pause, “you usually only talk to me that way.”

Y/N shook her head, a confused look returning briefly. “I don’t understand, you never showed any interest in my flirting, why is it bothering you when I do it to someone else.”

“Because I like you!” There it was. That barrier Bernard built high for years, keeping relationships at bay, had just been broken. And he didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. “I’m not the best at showing my emotions. Romantically speaking, I’m an amateur at it. And I’m sorry I was never good at reciprocating your advances. I guess it doesn’t matter if it was just a joke to you.”

Y/N reached out quickly, grabbing Bernard’s hand and holding it close to her. “It was never a joke to me. I just didn’t think you liked me in that way so I stopped. Thought I’d try with someone else to help me move on from you.” She moved a step forward, standing toe to toe. “I knew it would never work. You’re the only person I truly care about, in that way.”

Bernard was speechless. He couldn’t stop staring into her eyes, brimmed with emotion but full of love. He mostly felt like an idiot. Never taking the chance before now to make a move or admit how he felt. He finally felt at peace. Like everything had finally worked out.

“What now?” Bernard awkwardly questioned, placing his hands on Y/N’s hips.

“I think you should probably kiss me before someone else does,” She jested back.

They both laugh and lean in, Y/N’s hands going to hold the head elf’s face. The kiss deepened, Y/N moving her left hand to the back of Bernard’s head, tugging slightly at his curls. This elicited a deep moan from Bernard’s throat, his pants growing tighter, as he tugged Y/N somehow closer to him and towards the desk still covered with wrapping paper.

“Why did we wait so long to do this?” Y/N mumbled out between wet kisses.

Bernard moved to sucking her neck, most definitely leaving bruises. “I don’t know. But I never want to stop.”

They continued making out, Y/N feeling the desk behind her and sliding on top, pulling Bernard in between her legs. She felt him growing harder, and slowly moved her hand down, palming at the front of his pants. Bernard couldn’t help but whimper slightly, gripping the side of the desk as well as Y/N’s thigh. Keeping one hand on his hard on, she moved her other back up and unbuttoned his shirt, rubbing her hand in circular motions on his chest. Bernard followed soon after, taking hold of the bottom of her shirt and lifting it over her head. The couple continued kissing and touching anywhere they could reach, seeming to care little to none about the door still being open, or whether someone walked by and found them in their current predicament. They were just glad to have finally admitted how they felt. In the back of his head, Bernard reminded himself to thank that tall, blue eyed elf for bringing out the jealousy in him.

(Sorry it seems to cut short, I’m terrible at writing smut or intimate stuff but I hope you all enjoyed anyways :))

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker: Echoes of the Solstice

You know it, you love it, it may return on an as-needed basis for Campaign 3 now that Allura has entered the narrative and we know the fate of Caleb, but no promises: it's the Wizard Breakdown Tracker! As a reminder, I now include PCs because I make the rules; wizard NPCs are included on the very scientific basis of "do I have something I think is kind of funny or meaningful to say" so as always, if I left someone off, it was on purpose specifically to annoy you.

Astrid Becke: well her boss is missing, Caleb has expressed concerns in private to Beau about all of the Assembly, apparently the king is bedridden and has been for some time, and I suspect news of unsealed things being unsealed gets to her quickly; even if she isn't aware of the events in Blumenthal yet, she's about to be. Also, it's the apogee solstice. 8/10; ever the opportunist, it is a good time for her to try to become head of the Assembly, but also shit's gone real sideways.

Eadwulf Grieve: lost his title of hottest mage (men's division) to one Fjord Stone during the last Nicodranas County Fair and has been sulking ever since but more importantly the temple of the Raven Queen is doing Not Great Bob as of like an hour ago so a rare Eadwulf stress moment. 7/10.

Planerider Ryn: just lost her arm...but is unaware of it, so that's probably helping. technically cannot be calculated because she is a rock but spiritually like an 8/10 and that's only because she is remarkably unflappable; she just witnessed the Malleus Key and that should drive anyone up to a 10.

Allura Vysoren: has absolutely sensed a disturbance in the force weave and I'm sure Kima's feeling some bad vibes from Bahamut right now, but rather like Ryn she actually has some degree of sangfroid, a concept unheard of in the entire continent of Wildemount. 6/10.

Yussa Errenis: have you ever dealt with like, an ER Nurse, and unless something is actually exploding or someone is actually bleeding out they're like "yeah it be like that sometimes"? After you've been sucked into the Cognouza Hivemind while trying to do your silly little arcane investigations nothing short of the Calamity will ruffle you. He's an elf; he knows this solstice is wonky but also he knows this is Someone Else's Problem. Also Jester's left him alone for a whole 24 hours? Incredible. 2/10 and that's really just because he's still a little cranky about the disappearance of his blast scepter. As always: never change, king.

Prism Grimpoppy: by my calculations she's discovering that she's actually fucking incredible in combat right now. 0/10, she's doing GREAT.

Pumat Sol and sure, fuck it, Oremid Hass: I suspect the Zadash Wizard Contingent is dealing with some wild unsealed shit from the time of the Julous Dominion and they can't get in touch with anyone in the capital, but it's probably manageable. 4/10. On edge but not too bad.

Ludinus Da'leth: oh did your little plan to unleash the god-eater go a touch sideways? were you unprepared for the possibility of fucking all of magic? did you think it was going to be easy? did level 9 "Fuck Up Airship" and level 8 "Shield Against Werewolf" fail to save your bitch ass? As we've seen, he'll scramble and recover, unfortunately, but it's a well-deserved 9/10 right now. I love to see a plan fall apart.

Trent Ikithon: OH this motherfucker has LOST IT in prison. Like...he was able to put together a pretty elaborate situation, to be clear, but also he's gone bugfuck nuts and does not really improve. I think he's already broken down from the start having clearly been planning this exact scenario from the moment of his imprisonment honestly given that he appears to be going off of the frissons he picked up from Caleb and Essek shortly before he was captured, but regardless: he definitely ends it at a 10/10. Stuck in an egg for eternity, if he's even still a separate entity from Omentis. A well-deserved fate if ever there was one. Get fucked lol.

Veth Brenatto: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha 10/10 you know she watched Luc leap through the teleportation circle as it closed and has been shrieking loud enough to be heard at the Chateau.

Luc Brenatto: the arrogance and naivete of youth insulate him initially, but Aggy's demise probably spikes it to a solid 6 minimum and it's definitely 9 during the battle. It goes back down pretty quickly though; see Caleb's entry.

Caleb Widogast: he keeps it together pretty well, honestly! Still I have to imagine he's kind of at a 7 or so this entire time with occasional spikes to 9 (NEIN) throughout, and I wouldn't fault him for finishing up the Blumenthal Brunch and then quietly locking himself in a soundproof tower room to scream, cry, and throw up for a while. Indeed, I would encourage it; Caleb should go have a good cry and hug a magic cat for a couple hours until he feels better, and then come back down to find that everyone except the clerics but DEFINITELY including Luc has implemented Spontaneous Apogee Solstice Oktoberfest to celebrate the demise of Trent, the engagement of Fjord and Jester, and the general experience of being alive, and is varying degrees of extremely wasted. This will of course bring him back up to like 7 as he realizes he has to return a hungover teenager to Veth and then goes down to a 4 or so when he realizes the clerics can fix that and Veth will probably be so glad that Luc is alive she'll ignore the rest of it.

Essek Thelyss: Our international drow of mystery looms large in the narrative, but does not make an appearance, which makes this premise extremely funny. I assume he's feeling kind of rough given that the Dynasty wizards are well-attuned to leylines and I would imagine he picks up that Sending isn't working and was broadly aware Caleb was going into danger, so he's certainly stressed, but Trent doesn't actually seem to know Where in Exandria is Essek Thelyss and is merely threatening blackmail. Honestly while we're at it, we don't know where Essek is because I wouldn't put it past Mr. Geometer Owner to have been at a solstice nexus and to have possibly experienced his own Solstice Shunting. In fact I assume Essek is blissfully unaware of these specific goings on re: Trent and is just experiencing The Anxiety for all of the previous reasons. (1d6+3)/10.

Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk: Hmmm. Things becoming unsealed, you say? The uninvited guest list (The Real Gelidon, Isharnai) for The TusktoothStone-Lavorre wedding may have gained an extra entry.

[quinacridonered]

Rings of Power Recap - Season 2, Episode 4

ROP Recap S02 E04

Galadriel: You still mad?

Elrond: Affirmative.

Galadriel: And I have to do what you tell me?

Elrond: Affirmative.

Galadriel: And we are going on foot for no particular reason?

Elrond: Affirmative.

Galadriel: Gonna be a long trip to Eregion.

Broken Bridge: Longer than you think.

--

Homeless Wizard: There’s goats here?

Tom Bombadil: And honey! And soap!

Homeless Wizard: What is soap?

Tom Bombadil: Catch! No, no, don’t eat it.

Tom Bombadil’s Wife: *is evident*

Homeless Wizard: Who else is here?

Tom Bombadil: I could answer but I prefer gaslighting and mind-fuckery.

Sauron: Hey, that’s my thing!

--

Hobbits: Oh look! Other hobbits!

Other Hobbits: Oh look! Other other hobbits!

Probably Not Saruman’s Minions: Surrender the superfluous hobbits!

Other Hobbits: Our bloodymindedness is inversely proportional to our height.

Minions: And we are helpless before it. 

--

Homeless Wizard: Will you be my Yoda?

Tom Bombadil: Remains to be seen.

Homeless Wizard: Is Sauron my father?

Tom Bombadil: Wrong franchise. 

--

Elrond: Let’s go via the Barrow Downs. In Elvish, they are called “Don’t Go, There Are Wights There.”

Wights: BOO!

Elf #3: Holy shit! There are Wights here! 

Elf #4: I would answer but they already ate me.

Galadriel: *stab-stab-stab*

Wights: LOL

Elrond: Actually, you have to use their own weapons.

Galadriel: Nobody likes a pedant, Elrond.

--

Theo: I don’t know who imprisoned me, but I’m more scared of my co-prisoners.

Isildur: Hang in there, we’re co….

Ent Wife: FUCK! THIS! NOISE!

Isildur: And now a homicidal talking tree. Great.

Ent Wife: I shall smite!

Arondir: *speaks elvish*

Ent Wife: Or I’ll just chill with my ent husband.

Isildur: Wow, that really calmed her down.

Arondir: Elvish is very soothing.

Isildur: It’s the dental fricatives, isn’t it?

Arondir: And the diphthongs.

--

Galadriel: You still mad?

Elrond: Affirmative.

Galadriel: *ring-induced hallucinations*

Elrond: You just flashed back to Hot Sauron again, didn’t you?

Galadriel: No! Not at all!

Elrond: The lady doth protest too much.

Shakespeare: Has this line been cleared with my estate?

--

Elf #3: I hear drums.

Elf # 5: Could be a rave.

Elrond: Could be Adar’s army.

Galadriel: Can I go back to being a commander now?

Elrond: I can check with Elf Principal.

Galadriel: Take good care of my precious.

Elrond: You want me to carry your evil jewellery? What about our previous conversations indicates to you that I would find this even remotely acceptable? I don’t want to hallucinate Hot Sauron!

Galadriel: Gotta go! Orcs to stab!

Elf #3: She’s really focused.

Elrond: Eru help us.

--

Orc Daddy: A star shines upon the hour of our meeting, Lady Galadriel.

Lady Galadriel: Oh fuck.

---

More recaps:

Season 2, Episode 1

Season 2, Episode 2

Season 2, Episode 3

[shirefantasies]

Hey, babes!

Honestly I have brain rot for the idea of the ‘woman of the group does sexy dance to help mission’ trope and like LOTR boys. I also have brain rot for them hearing her sing ‘I Wanna Make Love To You’ by Etta James.

Anyway can I request the elves reactions to reader do a sexy burlesque/strip style dance? Like they in the audience and how they’d react.

By elves I mean: Elrond, Lindir, Thranduil, Legolas, Haldir and Arwen

OK I’M YELLING (I went ahead n threw our girl Galadriel in there cuz gotta catch em all right? 😁) there’s not really a mission lol but hope this does it justice! My latest D&D session the other night ended with burlesque performance so this feels like the perfect time to post this hehe

The Elves Reacting to F!Reader’s Burlesque Performance

Warnings: suggestive obviously 😆

Thranduil

Sure, he knew you’d all but been dared to set foot upon the stage, but something in your resolute expression and the long robe you wore had Thranduil’s eyebrows raising. Nary did he expect the way your hand shot out, grabbing the pole the moment the lights dimmed, or the way your robe dropped, revealing the lowest-cut, highest-slit dress he’d ever seen you in. Breath hitching, he watched as a long wave of fabric draped between your gorgeous legs, which wrapped around the pole as you climbed it. Eyes darkening as you spun, he could hardly help imagining what, or whom, else they could wind around so, and if he would ever be so blessed to see the confident air overtaking you again…

Legolas

Frowning, Legolas disappeared further into the gathering crowd. Gimli was the one who’d dared him to attend the show, telling him he was sure no pointy-ear could handle it. How could it be so, simply a performance? The crowd looked far too eager for you to be putting them into any sort of- oh. You emerged onto the stage, forearms and down covered with feathers like the wings of a great bird. Your legs were almost entirely bare, skirt minimal and bodice little more than a corset. Twirling and pirouetting into poses the woodland prince could only describe as suggestive, you beamed innocently at the crowd and hid behind your feathers, lashes fluttering. Another performer emerged behind you, hands on your waist and fingers deftly loosening your corset… Gripping the arms of his seat tighter, Legolas leaned in, a yearning in his own fingers readily accepting his friend’s latest challenge.

Haldir

A dancer you were. That was a known fact whispered among those familiar with you, often calling you something of a knife-dancer. Curiosity got the better of Haldir when scandal colored whispers of your performance right outside the woods. Was it dangerous, perhaps? Pride flowed into the little smile of anticipation he wore as fast-paced music filled the room and flames were snuffed, leading you to slide gracefully into the dim. Crouching, you crawled to the edge of the stage with a bloodthirsty grin that sent shivers down Haldir’s spine. Flicks of your wrists revealed your famed blades, which you twirled, tossed, and dragged gently along the length of your tongue. Brows raising, he found himself leaning forward with new interest. What sort of dance was- Coherent thought ceased immediately when you tossed your blades, caught them, and began slicing away at purposefully shoddy seams upon your outfit, revealing more and more until the elf was on the edge of his seat…

Galadriel

Hearing of a new form of entertainment served only to pique Galadriel’s curiosity and draw her from her frequent solitude. After all, if it was making her people happy… She did not expect to see a lone performer upon a platform, elaborately feathered fans covering most of her figure, but there you were. Clad all in white, at least from what she could see near your feet, you slowly closed the fans. The long swaths of fabric that hung near the ground begun only at your hips, the expanse of your legs utterly bare as you extended them, moving gracefully across the stage as your fans accentuated every curve and undulation of your body. Jerking, you rotated, hips swiveling as you happened to face the Lady of Lórien, and watching you through her lashes Galadriel felt a devilish smile rise to her lips. She saw exactly why there had been such a buzz…

Lindir

There had been talk of you giving a performance of some kind, but all Lindir had been able to retrieve on the subject was that he should quite like to be in the audience, so with a light heart he shuffled into the crowd, pleased to be quite close to the stage set up for you. Perhaps you’d learned a new instrument under his nose and wishes to surprise him with a performance! Perhaps- You slunk to the center clad in, oh dear, quite a sheer skirt. Feeling a rush of heat to his face, he tried to focus upon the swell of music, largely successful until you ripped your top off, hips swinging lower as your layers thinned and thinned… You froze momentarily, wearing little more than your corset, and made direct eye contact with Lindir, whose eyes widened and body felt quite faint. Slowly, deliberately, you took up your dance once more, grinning at him as you began unlacing the back of your garment. His hands shot up, half-covering his face, but he couldn’t help himself peeking again and again.

Elrond

Housing a troupe of performers was certainly an unusual set of circumstances, but not in the slightest beyond the reach of the great homely house. Indeed, at encouragement from Lindir to let music fill his halls, Elrond acquiesced to a performance, unknowing of the so-called ‘dancers’ who would emerge after the exuberant wind section. In fact, it wasn’t until they called you out that Elrond’s eyes widened, brows expressive as ever as they flexed in great shock. You were lowered down on ropes, sitting with your legs largely bared and swinging. Garments- quite the loose term- of drapery covered the rest of your form, but as you leaned back in your swing, you began twisting, swiveling, removing one veil after another… Elrond found himself looking this way and that, but his eyes could never leave you for long. Feeling his gaze darken and his hands flex, he wondered what he had gotten himself into…

Arwen

How scandalous could it be? Many a friend or even a family member or two had rolled eyes and whispered harshly about your performances, but Arwen was not afraid. No matter what it was said to be, she would experience it for it to be so in her mind. Thus she found herself in the audience of the very subject of contempt, the somewhat smaller ratio of maids to men not lost upon her. A great fount was all Arwen could see at the center of it all, at least until one bare leg slowly arched from its edge. Blinking, Arwen watched as it was followed by another, each of them kicking some water onto the crowd before your hands gripped the other side, flipping over to render most of your body visible. Hanging from the sides, you swiveled your hips, head innocently rested upon your folded arms as if your…ahem…rear end were not moving so. Sitting up, you let go, dropping back into the water with a splash before emerging again and grinningly tossing water on more patrons. Arwen found herself mirroring your expression, following your every motion with interest and a strange sense of elation.

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[crazydaymycrazyway]

So, like, if Alberu is a quarter dark elf and his mother is a half blood, then doesn't that mean his grandmother/grandfather is a human? I wonder whether it was one of the humans that escaped to the city of death. I'm guessing both of his grandparents are dead? Since they were never introduced. And like, his great grandfather is still alive lol.

And like, is Tasha a half blood too? Is she Alberu's mum's younger or older sister? And as far as I understood (spoiler, I think?) Zed kinda implied that she was killed by those hunters or whatever? The more I look into Alberu's family to write a famfic, the more of a complicated mess it is.

Oh, and since he is a quarter dark elf, can he like, form a contract or whatever with elementals? And can he see them like all the other elves? So does that mean if Cale uses that top to communicate with wind elementals, he can see/hear them talking too? And like, I thought Tasha had an elemental, but am I wrong?

[armysantiny]

The Pale Idol – PSH

P: Seonghwa x gender neutral reader | G: fluff, fantasy, drabble | Inc: Baldur's Gate 3 au, vampire elf!Seonghwa, Seonghwa is basically Astarion, tiefling!reader, mentioned Jongho, mentioned Wooyoung, tiefling!Wooyoung, makeup artist!reader, mentioned San, drow!San, implied Hongjoong mention, high half elf!Hongjoong| Wc: 1.1k | W: mentioned blood, old bite marks | R: G

Min's notes: This idea struck and would not leave me until I wrote it out. This fic's quality is questionable lmao, but I like it and that's enough for me. If I like this enough I'll do headcanons abt what the other members are lol. Also fuck tumblr's 5 link/tags per line thing-

Seonghwa lifts his head from his phone when his name is called, abandoning the green room’s sofa in favour of the stool his makeup artist is calling him to. He’s not the last one to have his hair and makeup done, but he has been able to relax while the others get ready. Precious minutes of simply sinking into the sofa and scrolling through the device in his hand.

Once he settles in his chair, his head turns to y/n, politeness melting away into a smile. They’ve got the brightest expression on their face, an eagerness he can feel in abundance. It’s rather charming, and a wonderful start to his day.

Even if he’s feeling a tad bit peckish.

“Morning to you too, y/n,” he chuckles, letting the Tiefling go about putting on his makeup for the group’s upcoming stage. “You seem excited today, something lifting your spirits?”

“Hm? Oh, yes! I have this new palette, you have to see the shades, Seonghwa, it’s going to highlight your eyes perfectly for this stage!” Y/n answers, bringing over the eyeshadow palette in question for Seonghwa to inspect. Much to their luck—and intuition—the makeup gets the idol’s seal of approval, and y/n gets to work right away. And Seonghwa is just the perfect client; holding himself just how y/n needs him to, closing his eyes exactly when needed.

The perfect symbol of grace, Park Seonghwa is.

Just as their close attention comes to an end and y/n goes to put their equipment away, the Tiefling’s gaze catches on something. It’s so small, so inconspicuous, clearly a small miracle they ever notice it at all. Hidden just below Seonghwa’s collar, in the crook of his neck, are two little scars.

And old vampire bite. Pale skin, the red eyes, the bite…

“Am I free to sit back on the sofa..?” Seonghwa’s watching them. Right. He’s caught them staring, surely the elf is uncomfortable.

“Yes! Yes, sorry, of course… you’re free to go.”

“Great. Thank you as always, y/n. Can we talk later?”

Later. The promise of conversation after the day’s recordings is daunting. Why he even suggested it in the first place, Seonghwa can’t recall. Y/n had seen it, his bite marks, and now he owes them an explanation, at the very least. Or a well-meaning half-truth if he has the heart to lie to them. His brow furrows, or well he supposes they do because Seonghwa feels a stare burning into the side of his head, San watching him with all-too-knowing eyes.

Damn the Drow for being so observant and empathetic. But San is a ray of sunshine, warm and loving, so all is forgiven. As it always is.

“Hyung,” San begins, “everything alright? Do you need..?”

“No, no, I’m okay,” and he is, “just a few things on my mind. It’s nothing to worry about, San-ah, promise.” Seonghwa isn’t lying. There isn’t anything—or at very least there shouldn’t be—to worry about. The performance will go well, he’ll smooth things over will y/n and maybe he’ll bother their high half-elf leader for a bite or two once night falls.

The performance ends almost as soon as it begins, adrenaline coursing through Seonghwa’s undead veins as the music comes to an end. Even as the idol works his charms for the close-up camera shot and the audience screams their praises, the prospect of confronting y/n hangs back in the crevices of his mind. Just like that horrifying mindflayer tadpole he once harboured, but that’s neither here nor there. So, after a few minutes of waving to fans onstage, Seonghwa tags along with his members and heads backstage, the green room and a darling Tiefling awaiting him.

What fun.

Y/n can barely look Seonghwa in the eye when he and the others walk back in, hands clamming up while they spend another minute or two or three distracting themselves with mundane tasks. How are they supposed to confess to the vampire that they’ve figured out that Seonghwa isn’t just an elf? It’s a small miracle in of itself that Jongho pulls them aside, needing y/n’s assistance, a clasp stuck on the idol’s mic pack.

“…mind if I interrupt?” y/n nearly jumps out of their own skin as Jongho’s clasp comes unstuck. Hells, was Seonghwa always this good at moving around silently?

“Nothing to interrupt,” they say, composure recovered, “is this going to be a private conversation?”

He nods. Very well, they can give him that much.

Following Seonghwa to a rather unused section of the green room, y/n stays decidedly quiet. Sure, the Tiefling knows, but this is Seonghwa’s secret to sure. It’s not hard to see the nerves play out on his face either, the way the elf’s expression holds itself a little too stiff.

And then y/n blinks when Seonghwa just comes out with it.

“I should have told you sooner, y/n, really,” the elf continues, “but surely, my friend, you understand just how risky it is to admit my nature as a vampire. Especially in this line of work.” They understand. Of course they understand.

“I do, Seonghwa, really. And thank you for telling me, though…” y/n trails off, reaching for Seonghwa’s hands when said elf stares at them with panicked eyes. “It’s nothing bad, I promise! I didn’t want to intrude on your revelation, just now, but I did figure it out. Earlier.”

Never has the Tiefling seen Seonghwa so flustered before. They watch the way he clears his throat, avoids looking at them for all of ten seconds before plastering on a nervous grin.

“How— how did you..?”

Y/n launches into their explanation, suddenly very aware that they probably should have brought up their suspicions ages ago. Like how they hadn’t wanted to point out how rare it is for high elves to have crimson-red eyes, or how the idol is paler than most and spends a little longer just observing his own reflection. Not that y/n always knew, but the old bite mark did play a decently large part in them finally putting two and two together.

“I was that obvious, was I?”

“…a bit?” Seonghwa groans. His hair falling across his face as he hangs his head in defeat. All that effort, all that time spent crafting his illusion and y/n figured it all out. Just like that. Now they’re laughing! All bashful and giggly and—

Hells below he wants to hide.

“My dear, can we please put this conversation to bed? Preferably before I go and ask Wooyoung to smite me?”

Y/n nods, not without stifling the rest of their laughter.

Thank the hells.

© copyright work of armysantiny 2024-2025

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[ailendolin]

Live reaction to TRoP 2x04

I am actually so glad Amazon is releasing the episodes weekly now because I love the anticipation beforehand and all the speculation about what happens next. So let's see what episode 4 has in store

Elrond in Mithlond! We're off to a great start here. I've missed my sweet summer child in episode 3

Galadriel, please, you have no right to be even the slightest bit bitchy right now after the Sauron shit you pulled

thank Eru Elrond is having none of it. I love how unapologetically he stands his ground and refuses to engage with her childish passive-aggressiveness

epic camera shots are epic and very LotR-reminiscent

also can I just say that I love how they're including the map to help the viewer get a grasp on where the characters are?

new elves! And they have names! I have a feeling they won't survive this journey but still, hello new elves!

man I just want to give Elrond a hug. He's trying so hard and given everything that's happened it's completely understandable why he won't trust Galadriel and Nenya, and I hate that this sets him up for failure

oooooh is it Tom Bombadil time? I can't believe this show made me feel excited about a character that I couldn't have cared less about when I read the books. I blame Bear McCreary and his beautiful music

lol Tom is like one of those burrowing animals that accidentally throws dirt at someone behind it while digging

Old Man Willow desert equivalent - does Tom Bombadil just naturally attract malevolent trees?

oh I'm so glad Nori and Poppy are okay and landed together wherever they are

those two need to meet Elrond. Given their tendencies to jump off cliffs, I think they'd get along splendidly

omg Nobody! I love you! You are adorable! And your name is Merimac! Gods, I hope they'll keep you around

lol not Nori third-wheeling and being jealous

desert halflings my beloveds! Look at them! They're so different from what we've known and yet them living in holes and the children sitting around listening to stories is so beautifully familiar. I love this so much

oh they're Stoors! And they don't like the Dark Wizard. Got it. I don't like the Dark Wizard either but damn I love watching Ciarán Hinds play him

"You should not be waking." :) I still can't believe how much I love Tom Bombadil already

GOLDBERRY!

that flame trick was neat

omg his little hedgehog teapot! I want one!

oh no this is where we say goodbye to my new elf friends, don't we? The Barrow-downs. I always loved this part in FotR

"Fear not. Dead men are no threat." Famous last words

shit those are the horses from the messenger Gil-galad sent, right?

the Barrow-wights are giving me PotC-vibes and I'm here for it

please let Camnir survive this. Please let Camnir survive this

thank you, Elrond. I knew I could count on you

also yay for him being a bookworm and knowing how to fight the Barrow-wights

and we're back in Pelargir. Have I mentioned that I don't really care about Theo (yet)? I love that Arondir and Isildur are teaming up, though

Estrid, I don't like you. Please go away. Or get trampled by an Ent

or found out by Arondir. That works as well

have I mentioned that I miss Bronwyn?

Arondir, you're a kinder man (elf) than me. I would have let Estrid faceplant right into the dirt

lol Isildur is such an idiot and I love him for it. The way he got sucked into the mud and pulled Arondir along with him was so funny

hello mud worm! I love how many different creatures we're getting in this show

the cave art! Omg it's beautiful and perfect!

"We don't have a home." This is such a sad sentence and reminds me of the dwarves (and especially Bofur) in the Hobbit movies

Galadriel, I'm sorry, but Elrond just told you he is trying his best to save Celebrimbor (and certainly feels overwhelmed by and terrified of such a task) and you're saying all elves carry such burden? Are you serious?

fuck me, not Elrond getting captured in her vision. Is he going to be forced to watch Celebrimbor get tortured / killed?

I will not be okay if / when that happens. Just saying

also I absolutely adore Camnir and you can bet I am already thinking about writing a fic about him and Elrond

not surprised by Estrid's stunt

shoot her, Arondir. Do us all a favour and shoot her

or maybe she actually is stupid enough to get herself trampled by Ents. One can hope

getting smacked is good too

Arondir, please, was it necessary to stop the nice Entwife?

damn those shots of the Ents look pretty

also did anyone ever think we'd get to see an Ent and Entwife together? Because I didn't and my heart is full.

oh that scene between Arondir and Winterbloom was beautiful

the orcs look so good in this series. I'm so glad we went back to prosthetics

I love how calm Elrond is. He is always careful not to rush into anything, always waits and sees and it keeps saving all their asses

NO! Fuck, are you kidding me? Not Camnir. Please, not him

okay, I have forgiven you for everything you've ever done wrong, Galadriel

and I have so many Elrond and Camnir ideas right now, holy shit, that scene was everything

that flaming arrow move was badass

oh this is how she will get captured

yessss hello Adar! I've missed you! Time for Sauron's exes to team up and wreak havoc

his greeting, I can't. Perfect. I love him so much

what a great episode!

[myfavouritelunatic]

The Faithless and The Powerful

This fic was a most welcome surprise! Birthed from one off hand comment in an epic chat with some wonderful friends (eyeing you with great affection @thrillofhope @scriberated and @theriverwild 😘 dedicated to you three with my sincerest thanks ❤️)

May I present my Dark Priest!Sauron fic...

Summary: Galadriel has been summoned back to Númenor in the island's most dire hour. A mysterious figure has enthralled the newly instated king and his many misguided followers.

The she-elf knows Sauron must be behind it, and soon will discover just how much.

But what else might she discover... and unleash... about herself?

Word Count: *coughs* 19.5k - my longest oneshot EVER. WTF.

Warnings: Angst, unresolved tension that definitely gets resolved, cult like behaviour, manipulation, LOTS OF SMUT, public execution and patricide to boot. Oh and just the downfall of Numenor. No biggie. Brace yourselves lol.

Enjoy! 🖤

[oomfvia]

⛧critical failure

pairing: astarion/gender-neutral bard tav, astarion/gender-neutral bard reader (second person)

spoilers for act 3

sfw, friends to lovers :)

2,547 words

posted this on ao3, liked it and thought it'd be nice to put on here too after fixing some typoes

preview:

“You know,” Astarion says, a singsong tone to the disapproval in his voice. “Was this really the best use of your gold, my dear?” He tilts his head in that way you’ve previously found handsome, but now it’s terribly infuriating.

It takes all the willpower in your body to not scream at the fool standing in front of you. Well, yes, Astarion! It could almost be a life-changing use of my gold, if you’d just fucking notice that I’ve been gathering expensive memorabilia of you for the past few days, priorities like a gigantic cult-brain be damned.

larian doesn’t make astarion react even if you go through great lengths to show him his own face. it fills me with joy to think about how you could get an entire statue commissioned of the guy and he would just shrug and wonder to himself who that handsome elf is LOL

in this timeline you (tav) don’t sleep with astarion at the tiefling party because you were a lightweight drunk out of your mind. yes, you curse yourself for missing that opportunity every single passing day at camp.

An unexpected perk of renting out the entire second floor of the Elfsong Tavern was being able to decorate the place as much as you liked, giving it a personal touch for as long as you made camp there. You made it a habit to bring back as many stuffed animals you encountered along the way in your journey, cramming plush owlbears and kittens into your pack as carefully as you could to avoid staining them with blood.

Occasionally, you hung up the odd painting or two, but none that were especially valuable — just the ones their previous owners wouldn’t miss. Though, you had to admit that none of them struck a particular chord. Perhaps you just haven’t ransacked enough abandoned homes.

Out of all the heroic acts you can tell the tale of, you would consider exterminating ghosts to free a possessed artist to be one of the weirdest. When Oskar Fevras, finally back to his senses, offers to draw a painting of you, you’re tempted for a moment to take him up on his offer. A gallant, heroic portrait of the aspiring saviour of Baldur’s Gate! It’s the stuff of a bard’s dreams. A perfect centrepiece for camp, would it not be? Except, you suddenly hear an exaggerated sigh from your right.

“You know, I’m just starting to think that rescuing the poor artist from the Zhentarim was more trouble than it was worth,” Astarion muses aloud. “A painting, after all of that slo-“

“Hold on,” you interject hurriedly and wide-eyed despite your attempts to sound As Normal As Possible. You turn to the rest of your party, a growing smile on your features.

“I need to have a talk with Oskar. In private. Artist to artist. Just for a minute!”

You’re all too eager to guide your party back to the bottom of the staircase, before returning to the artist with an excited glimmer in your eye. Oh, Gods, this is going to be amazing. Surely, you can get away with calling this a simple, friendly gesture without being questioned too much. In a hushed tone, you discuss your very specific request with the artist, keeping your voice low to avoid it being picked up by pointy, elven ears.

When you return to camp with your new painting titled ‘The Sanguine Seducer’ (Oskar had a…peculiar taste for names), you find an appropriate spot on the wall for it. Not too near the muse’s side of camp for it to be too obvious, but near enough for him to eventually take notice.

To your dismay, said muse does not value your new find in the same way, even when you ask him about it while stifling your excitement.

“Another one to add to the collection, I suppose.” Astarion says, acting far too nonchalant for your liking.

You realise that to a vampire with no ability to see his own reflection, it’s another portrait in the same vein as the others on the wall. You have half a mind to tear that picture of the maid holding a duster to shreds, as well as the one of the Red Prince hung up next to it. Instead, with a soft sigh, you return to your side of the second floor after bidding Astarion a curt goodbye, balling up the fists resting on your lap. Should’ve just gotten Oskar to paint me, bloodied armour and all.

Your other companions either don’t acknowledge the painting’s inspiration, or were intentionally refusing to. You don’t blame them — if your own shame was this overwhelming, the second-hand embarrassment must be painful as well. And with a few days having passed, it’s far too late for you to just tell him. Well, it isn’t, but your immature sense of pride wouldn’t allow for it.

Was there any other contrived way you could show Astarion a reflection of himself? Your mind whirs with the same intensity as it does in battle, trying very subtly not to burn a hole into the vampire’s forehead with your stare. How did he make reading a tome look good? And how did a man this well-read not recognise himself, or at least, the admittedly well-painted replica of his visage?

One fine afternoon, you chance upon a corpse, or at least, what little was left of it. You'd recognise the garish pattern on that mangled pant leg anywhere. It’s heavier than expected, and you end up relying on Lae’zel to haul Dribbles’ leg back to camp. You follow her in grimacing at the bloody, squelching sound it makes as she places it in her pack. Just as you were about to leave that awful cavern, it finally clicks. That Mephit from the circus.

As the rest of your companions take a well-deserved day of respite, you leave camp early with a stash of long-forgotten equipment, every piece having been replaced with something far more suited to the battles ahead. After what seemed to be hours of bartering with the local merchants, your pockets feel a great deal heavier, interrupting the spring in your step that you would’ve had otherwise.

Stoney is more than happy to receive your gold, and just as promised, you find ‘Astarion the Sensuous' delivered to your door the next day. Of course, this comes with a fair bit of judgmental stares from your fellow adventurers. Unfortunately, it includes Astarion himself, his expression quizzical as he looked upwards at the sculpture.

“You know,” Astarion says, a singsong tone to the disapproval in his voice. “Was this really the best use of your gold, my dear?” He tilts his head in that way you’ve previously found handsome, but now it’s terribly infuriating.

It takes all the willpower in your body to not scream at the fool standing in front of you. Well, yes, Astarion! It could almost be a life-changing use of my gold, if you’d just fucking notice that I’ve been gathering expensive memorabilia of you for the past few days, priorities like a gigantic cult-brain be damned.

The only thing that stops you is the thought of how Astarion’s face has been lost to time for him, after centuries of losing the man he used to be. It keeps you barely grounded, leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. Perhaps if you had just bedded him, which he seemed very willing to participate in during that party with the tieflings, instead of snoring into your bedroll, you would be able to muster up the courage to just yell at him.

That same night, you vent your frustrations with one too many rounds of Hoot’s Hooch, wallowing in your muddied thoughts. The painting. The statue. Astarion. His past. How much you’d like to see Cazador Szarr’s head on a stick.

After a few more drinks, you find yourself somehow both temporarily blinded and dancing uncontrollably. If not for Karlach mercifully pulling you back to the Elfsong Tavern, perhaps you would’ve been there trotting your feet clumsily through the night.

When you’ve all but given up on showing Astarion his own reflection, it happens when you least expect it.

Battling Cazador Szarr is quite possibly the worst experience of your life. There was already so much to take in from your way to the site of the Black Mass — those poor Gur children, that harrowing list of names, Sebastian. Not only are you fighting an incredibly powerful vampire lord, but you have to squash that blasted lump in your throat threatening to bring tears to your eyes in the process.

You emerge triumphant, but barely alive. Your chest rises and falls heavily as you attempt to regulate your breathing to the best of your ability, taking laboured inhales and exhales. Through blurry eyes, it takes all of your concentration to focus on the unfolding aftermath. Astarion, after centuries of being puppeteered, finally had the upper hand against Cazador. You wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.

“Get over here. We can do this,” Astarion beckons, an uncharacteristically desperate tone to his voice.

Your own comes out raspy, and the metallic taste of the dried-up blood staining your gums is equally as horrific. “What do you need?”

“I need your eyes. In a manner of speaking.”

Before Astarion can specify what exactly he needed your eyes for, your tadpole is all too eager to reach out. Your perspective floods Astarion’s mind in a series of vignettes of silver curls, sharp fangs, and deft fingers. The same features he’s seen at camp, both painted in deliberate strokes and painstakingly carved into marble. Alongside them, a heart-wrenching sense of longing that has festered for far too long.

Whether for better or for worse, fatigue overwhelms any potential embarrassment you could have had. The tadpole’s connection is severed as suddenly as it was formed, your body and mind completely exhausted to their limits. And as you find yourself falling to the floor, you utter out what you had wanted to say all day, ever since you entered this damned castle. What you had wordlessly thought to yourself as you watched him pace through the halls, looking the most vulnerable he had ever been, wanting to be anywhere but here.

“Astarion…Please, stay…”

You wake up in a cold sweat, your upper body screaming in residual pain as you lift yourself up from the bed. Rapidly blinking, you scan your surroundings, familiar wooden walls dyed orange hues of the sunset, gentle light streaming in from the windows. The Elfsong Tavern. To your left, ‘The Sanguine Seducer’. By the door, ‘Astarion the Sensuous’.

To your right, the man himself, seated on the floor beside you and once again absorbed in a tome.

“Astarion,” you choke out, your tongue now dry and tacky in your mouth. It breaks his concentration, and he immediately turns his head upwards to look at you. With a single movement of his wrist, the book shuts with a satisfying thump. You meet his gaze, the inner corners of your eyebrows raised in panicked concern. Did he complete the rite? Is he the Vampire Ascendant now? Or is this the same Astarion you saw in the morning, lost and confused and all he ever remembered was that poor excuse of a home?

“Please tell me you-“

“Dead. I’m free from him. Forever.”

Oh, thank the gods.

“The vampire spa-”

“All of them are making their way to the Underdark as we speak. And yes, including my siblings. Someone has to make sure they keep their fangs away from whatever horrors may be lurking around.“

“The oth-“

“Our other travelling companions have very graciously decided they’d rather leave us alone for….whatever this is.”

“Can you stop interrupting me?” You sputter in frustration.

“It was impossibly easy to guess what questions you’d ask, with how long I’ve had to wait for you to wake up. Now, have some water. You look dreadful.”

Astarion stands up, strolling over to the nearby table to pick up a glass of water. You drink from it eagerly, releasing a throaty sigh as your throat finally feels quenched. He watches your graceless behaviour with narrowed eyes, visibly unimpressed.

“More importantly, your little nap allowed me the time to think of what choice words I had for when you’d finally wake up.”

Your breath catches in your throat, Astarion’s pointed tone reminding you of things that you’d rather forget. Out of all the possible ways that tadpole could have gotten you into trouble, you didn’t think it’d betray you in such a juvenile way. Exposing your secret crush, out of all things? It almost feels like retribution for meandering around Baldur’s Gate, breaking up turf wars between the Guild and Zhentarim, and picking up abandoned children from the streets, instead of vanquishing The Absolute.

“I don’t know whether to thank you, or laugh at you,” Astarion continues, the hint of a smile on his features.

Your cheeks are practically burning up at his words, and all you can do is gawk at him, equally flustered and mortified at the same time. He takes it as a sign to keep speaking, for which you are more than grateful for.

As Astarion speaks, his smile grows, showing glimpses of his fangs. “Oddly enough, by collapsing on the ground like that, you saved me from myself and let me walk a new path where I can be free. Truly, honestly free.”

In Astarion’s voice, you find warmth, sincerity, and…gratitude. You bite your lower lip gently, swallowing heavily. It breaks your resolve to bury your affections for him, like a dam that shatters, water flooding past the cracks. Even if you hadn’t fallen for him long before, how could you not fall for him now?

“I…I’m glad to hear that, Astarion,” you say, making a valiant attempt to portray the essence of calm composure. “But it was all you,” you insist, slightly knitting your eyebrows together. After all, you’ve done nothing but make a lovesick fool of yourself.

“You did more than that,” Astarion responds, the smile lingering on his lips. “If I had ascended, those…tributes you’ve collected of me might have become inaccurate to my image. I suppose that’s one way to tell me that you prefer me the way I am,” he adds with a slight shrug. You respond with a roll of your eyes, though clearly out of bashfulness rather than any genuine ill will on your end.

“Anyway. If you have any other…commissions on your mind, I’d like to at least be asked to pose next time,” Astarion says, his smile turning into that familiarly haughty grin. After such a long day of seeing him looking awfully bleak, it was unusually reassuring.

You scoff at his teasing words. “There weren’t any, and there certainly won’t be now that you've caught on.”

“How bardlike of you, to dedicate art to your beloved. Very tasteful art, now that I’ve gotten a closer look at it,” the vampire says, ignoring your protests. He glances at his portrait on the wall, looking more than pleased. If only out of consideration for his circumstances, you bite back the multiple retorts you can think of, letting him dangle this over your head as much as he likes.

“And what do I get for all of my good taste, besides having to listen to you gloat?” you ask, tilting your head towards him with a resigned smile on your face.

“Darling. I’m sure that when you’ve healed those broken bones, I’ll have thought of a multitude of ways to repay your devotion in kind.”

You exhale deeply, letting your shoulders slack. How bad could a bruised ego be at this point?

“Took you long enough to realise it, you halfwit.”

You punctuate your sentence with laughter at the absurdity of it all. Astarion joins you, laughing in that effervescent tone that makes your chest squeeze.

Your conversation is drawn out for hours until the dead of night. When you wake up at dawn, you find your limbs tangled with Astarion’s under the blanket of your bed. It leaves the sweetest ache in your shoulders when you rise.

As you prepare for the myriad trials the new day would certainly bring, you entertain the thought of putting a quill to paper, celebrating tender kisses and exchanges of secrets from a newfound lover through lyric poetry.

[meanbossart]

Massive ask compilation time OH LORD

YES, her journals are a fun read. I somewhat wish there was more to her and The Dark Urge's interactions, too - she's wonderfully evil and clearly very attached to you if you're playing as that character, but I had hoped there was more of a reason for her obsession besides just "you were fun to cut up", haha. I remember reading her journal over a couple of times looking for something I might have missed.

His reaction was pretty in line with the Narrator's cues, just immediate rage over what she had done to him - DU Drow may be a masochist but that's reserved for people he cares about! So, her and her posse met a swift end. Also, despite the fact that the whole tadpole thing turned out being for the best, I think he's easily overtaken by resentment over his lost glory-days whenever faced with it so directly (he misses living in obliviousness) - not to mention his profound fear of vulnerability, and of feeling... Small. The way Kressa spoke to and of him would have absolutely shook him to his core, especially by doing so in front of the others.

[MORE UNDER CUT]

THANK YOU so much for your kind words first of all! As for the question, it depends a bit on the timeline; his dislike of female drow, especially at the start of his tadpole'd journey is pretty irrational and faith status wouldn't be of too much relevance, he just thinks It's in their nature to want to put him down and be conniving, and wants nothing to do with them.

Later, and especially post-game, he might at least give them a chance to prove they aren't "like other drow", though it would take him a lot to ever let his guard down entirely - UNLESS you seem like a complete fool LOL he's actually easy to trick into dismissing you as long as you don't mind playing the role of a dumb idiot.

But if not, he'd have an extremely short patience for any attempts to exert authority over him or his actions - or jokes at his expense, or any level of smugness or secrecy. Nymea would definitely feel kept at arms length because of the gender+race combo alone and have to put up with a lot of snideness. Basically, she'd have to treat this 6'4" feet tall freak with kids gloves to ever develop a rapport LOL

But also... The vampirism may "help"? He'd consider her a "lesser drow" for it. In that regard her attitudes toward Astarion would probably come to be relevant. I'm not sure about that aspect of it to be honest!

First of all, this is a hysterical scenario because he Would just fucking put the ring on without thinking about it LOL so thank you for the laugh that mental image just provided me with.

Oh he wouldn't care though. I mean, he dislikes drow in general, but he is a drow (up for debate, but you know, generally speaking) and he thinks he's pretty great. As long as he's still huge and strong he could wake up a woman tomorrow and not give a damn. And, frankly, his dick could turn into a pussy at any point in time and it wouldn't change anything about his character save for having to add a recurring UTI problem to his character sheet - he'd probably have fun with it.

TOTALLY FAIR, I'm very sorry it went past the point of enjoyment for you, but I'm glad you knew when to put it down!!! We're in our hand-holding and elf-smooching era now with the occasional visceral description of violence LOL SO YOU'RE WELCOME IN IF YOU'D LIKE. Thank you for dropping by!

Just putting this here because - I actually haven't decided yet, so that's pretty funny you asked LOL I'm leaning eyes closed though, nothing like a smooch to calm the big weirdo down.

HAHAHAH WELCOME BACK, I've been around this whole time! But I was hanging out on twitter for the most part. HOPE YOU'RE INTO THE DND STUFF LOL

DROW DURGES RISE UP I'll be honest with you friend, DU drow's lore has been as accidental as something like that can be, so much of it has felt completely organic in the way it came up - I guess that's what good RPG does to your brain. The rest of it has just been a wonderful opportunity to develop my writing that I decided to take full advantage of this year. Thank you so much for the lovely message!

---

Aaaaand I can barely muster something to say that feels like an appropriate response, but again I wanted to acknowledge all the sweet compliments people take the time to leave in my inbox. Some of you guys' comments about the things I create blow me away, I think I'm pretty confident in my art but... Damn, makes me so happy to know the stuff I create can hold a little special place to some folks. Thank you all so, so much for taking time out of your day to spread a little kindness around, and make mine a little better.

Again, thank you all for humoring me, have a lovely day folks!

[dawns-beauty]

hey there! i wanted to ask you some more mod questions :) do you have any go-to mods you prefer for character customization? not necessarily ones for the same playthrough. this could be skin textures or cool presets or racemenu things. hope you’re having a wonderful day <3

Hi! Oh-h-h man, I use a TON of these mods for NPC design alone

Get ready for a big 'ol list of as many links as I can post XD Hopefully some of it is new or interesting to you!

First off, some QoL RaceMenu things:

Another Race Menu Rotation Mod - you spin me right 'round, baby, right 'round, like a record, baby...

Stand Still in RaceMenu (OAR) - mostly useful if you open RM after initial character creation, like me. Stops your character from moving, though it takes a little bit to happen for me

RaceMenu Overlays (my beloveds)

Freckle Mania 2 (works fine for Skyrim SE)

Lamenthia's Marks of Beauty

Skin Feature Overlays

Vanilla Warpaints Absolution

Koralina's Freckles and Moles

Koralina has also done some nice makeup mods, and Makeup Mods - Male Support has some invaluable patches for them and more

RM Sliders

Another type of mod I use from practically everything is Expressive Facegen Morphs. I tend to use the version packed into High Poly Heads most of the time, but if you just use the default heads the original mod is worth it. The amount of nice, subtle face sliders it adds are just *chef's kiss*

ECE Ear Shape Sliders for RaceMenu is a new one to me, but I am never going without it. It allows for waaaay more (and better!) ear shape variations than RM alone.

More Scars Slider adds a nifty way to layer different scar types. I highly recommend the Northborn Scars patch.

Hair

Mild Hair Colors is a nice replacement for vanilla hair colors.

I feel like I use every non-SMP hair mod in existence, and only like bits and pieces of each lol.

High Poly Vanilla Hairs was my standard default hair replacer (and I still think it is unmatched on braided styles) but I'm also using Vanilla Hair Remake more and more.

Beards

I like vanilla mashups more than completely new stuff like Beards of Power, so really just use Beards, SV Beards, The Art of the Beard, and Blackbeerd's Beards.

Brows

Kalilies Brows - offers some less perfectly plucked options

Blackmoon's Brows

LM's Eyebrows SSE

Body Textures

Right now for body textures I'm using Tempered Skins for Males, due to the fact it has an option without insane muscles (even has a smooth, ab-less abdomen!)

For the ladies, I'm using Reverie - Skin. I think the body textures are a little on the smooth side (pore/wrinkle-wise) for my preferences, but the elf face textures preserve the brow ridge, which I LOVE. With it, I also like Female Bosmer Normal Map Fix.

For race-specific stuff:

Khajiit

For Khajiit, I use Lioness Look (textures only) and Khajiit Male Lion Textures.

LM's Beast Teeth - excellent teeth for Khajiit and Argonians

3D Khajiit Brows

I like to use Khajiit Overhaul heads, though the default male head is pretty funky, so I use this preset as a base.

Separated Khajiit Earrings for Character Creation lets you add earrings to any Khajiit hairstyle

K.C.C.E Khajiit Character Creation Extended - like EFM for Khajiit: offers a whole lot of sliders

Orcs

For Orcs, I like Closed Mouths for Orcs, but if you like the bigger teeth default look, I recommend Orcodontist.

I also made a mod for making orc horns horn-colored and more.

Bosmer

For Bosmer, you can't beat Cuyi's Bosmeri Antlers (and perhaps Sharpened Teeth.)

Argonians

Probably my fave Argonian hair mod is Hott Argonians with Argonian Feather Hair (Hairstyles only.) It has awesome unique feather textures. I also like to use my whole series of Argonian mods XD

Argonian Creation Extension is like K.C.C.E. but for Argonians. Good stuff!

Color Matching Feathers for Argonian Tails

Kabu's Argonian Fins

Argonian Face Horns

Dunmer

Dunmer Scarification - I have some hesitation about recommending it, because right now the compatibility with different skin types isn't great. But! love the idea and hope to work with it in the future.

Bodies (nudity warning)

YMMV, I haven't tried all these in game, but I want a spot to save them anyways. I would like to set up the mod (AutoBody?) that uses presets to add variety to NPC body types at some point.

Tested and approved:

Argonians Are Not Mammals

Female Hands Redone

The Common Guy

Realistic Body Presets - CBBE

CBBE Barbarian

Untested:

Himbo Fat Preset

CBBE - Hefty Mama

CBBE Bodyslide Preset - Warrior Woman

CBBE Rugged

(If you know of any other good body presets for variety (especially male ones), lmk)