#this man is a legit wizard

[insert-stupid-username]

[something-universe]

Hokay I don’t normally post my shadier drawings but I’m legit proud of the linework + fabric

I love that one Murlocs performance sm it’s like so good

I’ll probably delete later idk

[mischeva]

Throws this into a pit of nothing. Never to be seen again……. Unless 👀

[rexcaliburechoes]

ask game - KISS

spins a comically large wheel that just consists of the name "istorros"

god. okay. i've been looking for an excuse to talk about istorros. so i'm gonna take this as my sign to talk a little about him.

the real answer is sort of funny, because in my current file, he's romancing gale, so the last person he's technically kissed is gale. but story-wise, astarion, because of a bunch of funny shenanigans that happened behind the scenes.

here he is casting speak to dead for context (the only other reference i have of him is an Actual mugshot. lmao.)

[im-no-jedi]

I am about 🤏 close to blacklisting everything related to BG3

not because I'm sick of seeing it, oh no, it's actually the complete opposite

if I don't get to play this game soon y'all, I might actually go insane dlkfgjhglfdkjsh

[susiephone]

i'm really curious to see how jeff goldblum's take on the wizard will develop in part 2, because that's a character that varies a LOT depending on actor choice - in particular, whether he's 100% playing elphaba from the start, or if he (at least on some level) means what he's saying. goldblum's "sentimental man" came off as more sincere than a lot of other versions of that song, and there was a moment, when elphaba is demanding he prove his powers, where he looks genuinely saddened - which makes me wonder, if we assume that was legit, is he sad that elphaba's lost faith in him, that he's lost a powerful ally, that he can't do real magic and can only do sleight of hand and illusions, or that he isn't the hero he makes himself out to be?

i'm really really excited to see "wonderful" in p2 because i think it's one of the most underrated songs in the show, and how it's played really does define each actor's take on the character.

[captainuranium543]

Looking back erza and laxus had INSANE beef. Legit I counted and early on almost every single time he's on screen hes slandering her for no damn reason. I thought this was kinda funny cuz like, my man what is your damage??? But then I thought about it and it makes sense.

Imagine you are laxus at 15, your father is constantly preaching that the guild isn't strong enough and all these weaklings are dragging it down. You believe him of course because he is your father and obviously we all need to be strong, that's why dad forcibly implanted a lacrima into your skull because you needed to be stronger to remain in the guild. Then enter gods most pathetic kid who barely speaks, knows almost nothing about magic and looks like she's been run over by a bus a couple times and the master just, let's her in?? How on earth is that gonna make this guild stronger old man. Ivan was probably pissed and laxus just picked it up by extension.

Not only that this little jerk who should be like, inherently weaker then you by your fathers logic, manages to make s class only 2 years after you, making her the youngest wizard in fairy tail history to become an s class at 15 (cough a title that used to be yours).

Oh and also, as time goes on word spreads about how powerful she is and people start calling her titania queen of the fairies, while you are literally in line to inherit it. if anyone is the queen it should be you.

You finally have enough of this and at 23 years old you create this whole elaborate plan to become the guild master you hold the entire city hostage with a ring of insanely volatile lacrima around the city that will nuke whoever attacks them so they can't be removed from the sky. Perfect plan right? Wrong. That same fucking ginger destroys 89% of them even after you inform her that she will die she does it anyway and has the nerve to survive. That asshole.

Years later all that is behind you, sure you'd love to be guild master but the guild has disbanded and honestly you aren't totally sure you deserve it. You joined blue Pegasus with some of your buddies and it's going ok until suddenly a hoard of your old guildmates burst in and tell you fairy tail is back! Great news! Except who's the guild master? Well you're never gonna guess.

[kari-sims]

My goofy old wizard is the lowest ranked spellcaster in the realm, but he's very stubborn. One day I just gave in, because he was calling almost daily ( – ⌓ – ) if i had a fraction of his confidence, I'd solve all of my problems...

Ellie: Alright old man, where do you want to do this?

Aurelius: [mysteriously for no reason] You shall see.

[at the dueling grounds]

Aurelius: Here it is. Why didn't you get my calls? Scared much? You can still back out, no worries. Me and The Princess 🐌 won't tell a soul.

Ellie: Dude, you know I'm a Master, right?

Aurelius: Oh yeah? A master at Failure Academy, more like it. Hah!

*old man immediately slips and almost falls after trash talking*

Aurelius: I meant to do that.

(Dueling finally starts, featuring the screenshot that killed me. Yes, I'm deceased and typing this from the other side right now. Also there's no coffee here, lame...)

(Phew! Legit thought this wandless little man was going to defeat her for a sec... actually no, i didn't)

Aurelius: [quickly gets up] Ah... nothing but a scratch!

Aurelius: Well... congrats, you won! Just so you know, I had to lower my powers a little for you there. You can thank me later! Also, you better come more prepared next time...

...cause I won't be so nice.

Why are you happy, Ellie? You just assaulted an old man. Anyways, even now he still keeps calling for a rematch... he learned nothing apparently. Or worse, he forgot everything happened (・―・)

[thechaoticdruid]

[The Spawn Vs The Ascendant]

Astarion(s) x Tav

Plot: I made a post a while back about Ascended Astarion meeting Spawn Astarion via multiversal timeline shenanigans and legit maybe one person shared a fic with a similar premise.

So basically I was like *puts on infinity gauntlet* “Fine, I'll do it myself.”

Content Warning// 18+ for Sexual humor and suggestive themes. I legit have not been in the fanfiction business in years so go easy on me. 

Characters might be ooc. Spelling/Grammar mistakes may be present. A wee bit of blood and violence. Gale is made fun of. Tav is based heavily off my human druid Tav, Winnie and uses She/Her pronouns.//

Possible Triggers: Ascended Astarion, kidnapping, mentioned character death, possessiveness, obsession, AA touches Tav without her consent (not sexually tho), Galeshaming. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Ah, the Elfsong. There was really no better place to unwind after a long day of adventuring. And there was really nothing better to help one unwind than a favorite snack, a cold drink and lovely company. Unfortunately for Tav she'd have to wait up on the company as her beloved was currently preoccupied with his nightly grooming. Gods only know how long that man will take doing his hair. The human female rolled her eyes and brought her wine bottle to her lips taking a few swigs before biting into some cheese she'd been nibbling on prior.  Tav lounged about on their shared bed wearing nothing but a black tank and red boxers. Despite the peace and relaxation she was getting pretty bored without her love to snuggle and gossip with. Tav finished off the last few bites of cheese before she pulled out the private journal she'd been keeping since this whole adventure began. Little doodles of her partner decorated the pages along with her chicken scratch handwriting. 

She had documented details of their adventure whenever she had the chance and also took the time to add various doodles of her companions and any monsters they encountered. (Some of her favorite drawings included herself opening a bottle and releasing a spectator. And of course a lovely little drawing of her and Astarion kicking the shit out of Cazador.)

As she waited Tav began to entertain herself by writing down a to-do list.  

“Ah lets see…Yep definitely gonna have to have a chat with that pompous prick who was threatening a kid the other day. Maybe I can invite him back to the tavern later? I'm sure Star wouldn't mind having a snack.” Tav hummed, scribbling down everything she had planned out as of late.

Shit I need to do:

‘Feed rich tit to boyfriend.’ 

‘Teach Shadowheart to swim.’

‘Buy Clive a best friend.’ 

‘Murder baddies.’

‘Wildshape into a pigeon and shit on Gortash's head.’

‘Buy boyfriend cute clothes.’

‘Take Gale shopping for wizardy stuff.’

‘Look into real estate in the Underdark.’

‘Take Scratch for a walk.’

‘Kill more bad people.’

‘Contemplate licking dead spider.’

‘Be screamed at by Gale for licking dead spider.’

‘Buy flowers for Karlach and Shadowheart.’

‘Buy boyfriend more cute clothes.’

‘Study wizard stuff.’

‘Help Moon Lesbians plan wedding.’

‘Research ring of the sunwalker.’

‘Piss off the Gods……Again…’

‘Remember to take Astarion on romantic beach date before fighting the Elder Brain.’

‘Unalive people of not goodness.’

‘Shave Gale’s beard while he sleeps.’

‘Continue writing smutty novel series so I can keep buying boyfriend cute clothes.’

“Tav, a word please.” Gale appeared from around the corner. Tav groaned, annoyed by the prospect of having to get up. Especially since Gale looked like he was going to scold her for something. Begrudgingly she hopped off the bed, leaving the comfort of her room to see what in the hells that damn wizard wanted. 

“What do you need, Gale? I'm kinda in the middle of writing down my to-do list.”

“Am I inclined to believe that you've been writing erotic novels that feature Astarion and I?” The wizard inquired.

“Pfft! What in the hells gave you that idea!” Tav laughed, her eyes staring off to the side nervously as she twiddled her thumbs. Gale pulled out a red leather bound book titled ‘Blood-Mage’. It was a ridiculously smutty novel about a young handsome sorcerer named Garrett Delarous who is reluctantly forced to team up with a dastardly, but world endingly beautiful Vampire Lord in order to save the world or some shit. (The book mostly focused more on smut than plot.) Amazingly the novel had made a killing after Tav had peddled it at Sharess's Caress. It seemed nearly everyone wanted a copy.  (Tav was also pretty sure she noticed Halsin was reading the book as well.)

“My series is about a renowned sorcerer and a Vampire Lord. There's a difference, Gale.” Tav crossed her arms with a huff. 

“You can't just profit off of other people's likenesses Tav! You at least need to pay them royalties!” 

“I always give half the money I earn to Astarion.” 

“I’m talking about me!”

“I think my beloved ‘gloves of power’ were more than enough payment for you.” Tav huffed before looking off to the side with a sad look.

I miss those gloves so much.

Gale sighed in annoyance, pinching the bride of his nose. He was used to Tav’s shenanigans at this point but this was just ridiculous. Not to mention while skimming through Tav's scandalous work he noticed the sorcerer was always on the bottom during intimate scenes. The audacity!

“Besides I use the money I make from this for not only myself and Astarion, but the rest of the camp as well. Adventuring ain't cheap ya know?” 

“You can at least give me a small percentage of the profits. Say thirty percent?” 

“Ten percent.” Tav said flatly.

“Twenty percent?”

“Ten percent.” Tav repeated.

“Fine.” Gale gives in, causing the shorter of the two to smirk triumphantly. Tav watched smugly as the wizard slumped off in defeat before quickly adding another note to her to-do list.

‘Give 10% of book money to the stinky wizard.’

Tav finished off her list as she felt a pair of cool arms wrap around her form from behind, her cheeks tinting light pink. “Do you really need to take five hours in the bath?”  She hummed, turning her head to meet her partner’s crimson gaze. His hair was dry and looked rather soft and silky and he was dressed in this eccentric red silk robe with fluffy black trim.

“You can't rush art, darling.” Astarion purred before nuzzling his cheek against hers. “You know if you were getting impatient you could have joined me in the tub. I would have loved the company.” He murmured huskily.

“In these tiny ass bathtubs? I'd have to sit on your lap and even then I doubt we'd have enough room to really do anything.” Tav replied, nuzzling back against him. 

“We could still try.~” The vampire cooed.

“Tempting, but the others have whined enough about our night time activities. Apparently we're noisy.” 

“Then perhaps next time I shall have to gag you won't I?” 

“Alright! I'm ending this conversation here!” Tav said quickly, face burning up at his teasing. 

“Besides, I’ll need some sleep for tomorrow. Gortash won't kill himself, unfortunately.” Tav said with a yawn.

“Really? Now? I was hoping you'd at least cuddle with me before bed.” Astarion pouted.

“Oh you poor thing. Fine, we can cuddle till I fall asleep. Cutie.” The human female smiled sweetly before planting a kiss on her lover's cheek, receiving a content hum in response. Tav turned to pull away from the elf's embrace before suddenly feeling herself be scooped up and tossed over his shoulder.

“Hey! What did I say about picking me up!?” She whined, squirming a bit as she hung over his shoulder. “I don't like being manhandled!”

“But you're so adorable like this.~” Astarion teased, his hand gripping her ass as he carried over to the bed. Despite Tav’s complaints she did little else in protest besides pout and blush as she was whisked away. The two of them soon settled on the bed, Tav immediately nuzzling into Astarion's chest and relaxing. Astarion’s clawed fingernails found their way into her messy locks, caressing and running through them as the two snuggled together. His skin was cold to the touch, but honestly Tav actually liked it. It kinda reminded her of the cool side of her pillow. Even though there was the constant threat of death around every corner the two of them were still able to cherish their time together, and hopefully now that Astarion had been freed of his master they would continue to do so.

 There was still the tiny issue of an evil alien brain thing that could turn them into soulless squid monsters, but they'd be able to take care of that sooner or later. A part of Tav wanted to put it off as selfish and dangerous as it could be. Because as soon as they destroyed the brain, they'd destroy the only protection Astarion had against the sun. Tav wasn't about to give up on finding a way for her love to enjoy the sun, but for now she'd at least make the time he has left in it special. 

“Star….” Tav murmured aloud, her head tilting upwards to meet her partner's eyes.

“Yes dear?” He hummed.

“You know there's actually something I've been meaning to talk to you about. We've been together for a while now and well…we haven't actually had a real date….I mean I guess it's understandable considering we have to save the world and shit, but I was thinking maybe if there's time we could do something together....”  Tav bit down on her lip as she sat up on the bed. She felt nervous all of a sudden, not used to asking for stuff like this. Astarion had always been the one to initiate most of their romantic activities. The best Tav could do was a kiss on the cheek or a hug and even that had taken a while for her to get comfortable with. 

“What about all our little late night trysts? Do those not count as dates?” Astarion raised an eyebrow though his tone was playful.

“Ehh…well…rolling around in the dirt in the middle of nowhere isn't exactly what I'd call a date.” Tav said awkwardly, earning a chuckle from her vampire. 

“I suppose you're right. We've never really had any bonding time without you being pinned underneath me.” He joked before quickly clearing his throat and finally trying to be serious. “What do you have in mind, darling?”

“I just want to take you out somewhere…We could go out to eat or just walk in the park….” The human female twiddled her thumbs as she trailed off, feeling butterflies in her stomach. “I'd be up for anything really as long as I'm with you.” 

“I…would like that very much, my love.” Astarion cupped her cheek, his eyes soft and full of affection.  He pulled her into a sweet chaste kiss, allowing her to return it before she pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.

Thudd!

Tav quickly pulled back from Astarion's embrace as she heard a noise. She looked around frantically for the sound.

“Tav? Is something wrong?” Astarion asked.

“I just heard something…” She said before suddenly her eyes landed at the window near their bed.  On the opposite side of the window seat a small white bat could be seen looking through the glass. Its little red eyes stared at the human with an intense gaze. “It's a bat.” Tav pointed towards the window. Astarion looked over at the little creature before internally groaning.

 No. She better not even think about it!  

The bat blinked, looking at Tav a few times before curling its left wing against its body. 

“I think its wing is injured!” Tav exclaimed with concern.

“Ugh leave it! We've taken in enough stray beasts!” Astarion scoffed, but Tav immediately ignored him, rushing over to the window. 

“Tav! Don't! It probably has some horrible disease or something!”

Tav quickly opened the window, her eyes going soft as she looked down at the small animal. She moved to scoop it up into her arms but before she could the bat simply fell back. 

“Shit!” She shouted. 

“Thank the gods, it's dead. Now come back to bed, darling.” Astarion said, patting the spot besides him. Tav just glared at him silently before suddenly she wildshaped into a raven and flew out the window.

~•~•~•~•~

While Tav didn't preach about nature 24/7 like Halsin did she was still just as much of a druid as he was and couldn't bear to stay by while an injured animal was in need. (Much to her lover's dismay.)  She'd flown out the window of their room and circled around looking for the little bat. 

There was no sign of the winged beast anywhere near the elfsong, but at least that was a sign it likely hadn't fallen to its death. Tav kept searching, eventually straying further from the tavern until she was forced to land and give her wings a breather, returning back to her human form.  

“Dammit it's so dark I can't tell where I am. Everything looks different at night.” Her eyes strained as she struggled to make out any familiarity. Despite having lived in Baldur's Gate for about ten years Tav had always made it a point not to roam about at night. Her lack of dark vision made night time prowling even more dangerous, especially in this city.

She decided to reserve her strength instead of wild-shaping again. From what she could make out in the dark she'd found herself in one of the back alleys. Tav kept stumbling around in the dark for a while until at last she began to consider heading back. The bat likely wasn't dead since she had seen no hair or hide of it and she really wasn't in the mood to find herself in trouble. It constantly seemed to follow Tav these days it seemed. Last time she wandered around the city by herself she got into a fist fight with some stuck up noble lady who had referred to her as ‘a fat ugly little boy’. (The others were not happy about sneaking her out of prison that day.)

Just as Tav was about to assume the form of a beast fit for the night she noticed some light up ahead. The graveyard had been illuminated by a couple of lanterns. Tav approached hoping it would help her map out her way back if she just remembered how to get to the Elfsong from there. However as soon as she got close to the light someone was waiting for her. 

“Astarion?” Tav called out as her silver haired lover stepped out of the darkness. She expected nagging, and complaining about having to come out here looking for her, but instead Astarion just stared at her intensely as if studying every detail of her face. “Are you okay?” She asked with concern. Something was very strange about this. Astarion being quiet for long was never a good sign. Tav scanned him over, almost immediately noting his elegant attire. A black and red suit with silver bats embroidered on it. Odd. Tav had never seen him wear this outfit before. And he was always quick to show off any new clothes to her, seeking her praise. Astarion moved towards her quickly and out of nowhere pulled her into a crushing hug. 

“Yes of course. I was just worried about you, my sweet.” His grip on her was almost uncomfortably tight, as if he was holding onto her for dear life. 

“I haven't been gone that long….” Tav stiffened. There was an abnormal warmth to his body. Sure he was able to raise his temperature after feeding, but there was hardly a decent supply of beasties for him to nibble on in this city, not to mention he would have had to have found one pretty damn fast before seeking her out.  

“You’ve always been such a brave little thing, haven't you?” He let out a chuckle, his grip on her didn’t falter. His tone didn't seem threatening, but one thing for sure set off an alarm in her.

Thump-thump. 

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

Tav immediately ripped herself away from him and took a few steps back, her eyes glaring daggers.  “Who the hells are you?” She snapped. 

“Whatever, ever do you mean, pet?” His voice was full of false innocence, it reminded her a lot of how Astarion would often speak whenever accusations were hurled at him, but this person was definitely not her lover. 

Tav’s first instinct was to assume he'd probably been one of the shape-changers they'd been attacked by in the past, but there was this gnawing gut feeling that this time was different. 

“Drop the act. I've already met enough shit heads running around wearing someone else's face. Who are you really?”

“I’m Astarion. Really dear, I'm disappointed you have so little faith in me that you'd think I'd allow some lowly shape-changers near you.” He took a few steps forward. 

“Stay away from me…” Tav growled out through gritted teeth. Damnit. She didn't have any weapons and was literally in her sleepwear. 

“You seem tired, love. Perhaps we should head back so you can get some rest?” He extended his hand towards her.  Tav was about to say something else before suddenly an arrow came out of nowhere, nearly hitting the Astarion look alike in the shoulder. He was able to dodge just in the nick of time.  Tav gasped in surprise before quickly turning back to see another…. Astarion?

The two looked identical aside from their clothing. The imposter was wearing his elegant suit and the other one (whom Tav hoped to the gods was actually him) was wearing a familiar red and black doublet. 

“Hells teeth.” Astarion spoke up as he looked over at the two.  Tav immediately sniffed air around the second Astarion. The tiniest whiff of death hit her senses and immediately she ran over to him. 

“Star!” Tav was by his side in an instant. His arm quickly looped around her hip protectively before he scanned over her face. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, receiving a nod in response.  Astarion then looked over towards his look alike. “My, aren't you just beautiful? I must admit I'm quite flattered you chose to imitate me.” 

“Is that what you think of me? I'm hurt.” The other vampire laughed. “I am no mere imitation. I am you…..well a better you.” 

“You're not making any sense!” Tav hissed, her jaw clenching as she suppressed the urge to let out an animal-like growl.  

“Allow me to shed some light on it then. I come from a reality where instead of choosing to remain weak and pathetic we became who we always wanted to be.”  Tav's eyes widened at the revelation, though she was still debating whether or not to believe all this madness. Of course she'd been to hells, the shadowfell and even fought a god so maybe this wasn't too far fetched.

“The Vampire Ascendant.”

“If you're telling the truth then why are you here? You have everything you want don't you?” The vampire spawn quirked an eyebrow. Meanwhile the Ascendant’s face suddenly turned cold. He almost looked sad. 

“I did. Wealth, power, pleasure, everything I could ever dream of. I was on the cusp of dominating the entirety of the sword coast. Everything was mine. But none of it mattered without the one thing I cherished most. My beloved consort. My Tav.” His eyes suddenly locked into the human female. She felt small, cornered, like a rat caught between a cat’s paws. “He was taken from me…” 

Tav stiffened, taking a step back. She really did not like where this was going. Her lover kept a gentle hold on her, staying between her and the other vampire.

“And now you're here to take my Tav I presume?” Astarion scoffed, “you obviously didn't care very much about yours then if you're already looking for a replacement.” 

“HE WAS EVERYTHING TO ME!” Before Tav could think her lover was knocked off his feet. A punch had come at him faster than he could react. The Ascendant stood over him, shaking with anger. Tav moved over towards the vampire spawn as quickly as she could, checking him out. He seemed alright, albeit a little winded, possibly bruised. Astarion huffed, getting back to his feet. Tav was quick to cast cure wounds on him to help perk him back up.  

The Ascendant took in a breath, regaining his composure. While the spawn swiftly tossed Tav a spare dagger from his pack. A fight was likely inevitable now. 

“I’ve searched across thousands of timelines. None of these pathetic excuses for adventurers came even close to my beloved. That is…until I found you of course…” The vampire lord pointed a clawed finger at the druid.  “You're the only one who resembles him in the slightest, albeit you are a bit more…voluptuous than he was.” He chuckled a bit. 

“Okay hold on a minute! You can't just come here and take someone else’s Tav because you lost yours!” Tav pointed her dagger shakily towards him.

“My dear, I don't think you understand. I am the Vampire Ascendant. I can take whatever I want!”

“I don't care if you're the fucking god of gnomes I'm not going anywhere with you. I have my own Astarion.” Tav gripped the blade tightly while her free hand prepared to cast a spell.

“I had hoped you'd come quietly, but it seems we'll have to do this the hard way.” With a flash of pink light Tav was hit with a sleeping spell and fell to the ground unconscious. Her dagger dropped to the ground with a clatter. The spawn was quick to move in front of Tav taking out his rapier and aiming a swipe at the other vampire. 

The Ascendant stepped back just as the thin slender blade nicked a cut across his attire, just barely missing his flesh. The spawn took another swing at him, nicking his side and gaining a kick to the ribs in return. The spawn huffed, quickly recovering before moving in for another attack.

However the Ascendant’s clawed hand struck first, slashing through the armor surrounding the Astarion's shoulder and slicing his flesh. The spawn cried out and gripped his arm as his counterpart smirked smugly, bringing his finger up to his lips and basically tasting his own blood. 

“Mmm…Delicious.~” He purred. The Ascendant’s crimson eyes trailed over towards Tav before beginning to glow red. “To me, now.” He said as if issuing a command to unseen soldiers.

Within seconds two oddly familiar figures appeared out of mist. A sickly pale looking Halsin and Shadowheart, both with glowing red orbs for eyes.  

“Gods below. You've turned your own friends into spawn!?” Astarion gasped, his face full of disgust. 

“Eh…I wouldn't exactly call them friends…. Though they are much more compliant this way.” The vampire lord replied with a toothy grin. The spawn felt sick to his stomach. To think he could have ended up this way.  

“Take care of my inferior self, would you darlings? I have places to be…” The Ascendant gave a small wave before quickly scooping the unconscious Tav up in his arms. 

“Yes master.” The undead Shadowheart and Halsin replied, a bright red light shone around their bodies as they were compelled to attack. 

“Farewell beautiful.” The vampire lord gave his spawn self a wink before quickly vanishing into mist, taking Tav along with him.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Astarion….” Tav muttered tossing and turning in her sleep as she slowly began to come to. She shot up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding.

“Ugh…That was a terrible dream. Star you wouldn't believe…” Tav went silent as her eyes scanned her surroundings. It in fact was not a dream. 

“Oh gods damnit.” She huffed.

 Tav was in a large elegant looking bedroom, lying upon a purple queen size bed adorned with fine silk sheets. Maroon red walls surrounded her and were decorated nicely by paintings and other fine wall decor.  The first thing the druid noticed after taking in her surroundings was the pressure around her neck. Her hands quickly reached for her throat feeling what seemed like a tight choker of some kind. She quickly hopped off the bed and looked into the mirror of a nearby vanity that sat west of the bed. “Fucking hells.” She breathed out as her eyes laid upon a black and red collar adorning her neck. There was this unnerving glow surrounding the collar. Most likely some kind of magic was placed on it. Quickly she curled her fingers preparing to use a spell in order to tear this damn thing off of her, but nothing happened. 

This thing must be silencing my casting somehow.

Tav for a moment before forming an idea. She could probably wildshape into something small and squeeze out. Maybe. The druid sighed before getting on all fours preparing to transform into a rat. She let out a grunt, but nothing happened. 

“Oh fuck you!” She shouted before rolling and desperately trying to yank the collar off.

 Tav growled and pulled on the neck piece, yanking as hard as she could, resorting to gnawing on it. 

Knock knock.

The druid immediately ceased her actions at the sound of the door. A shiver went down her spine at the thought of it being that so-called ‘Vampire Ascendant’ again.  Her eyes flickered around the room before she took hold of a candle stick and stood next to the door, back pressed against the wall. 

The door creaked open and a small figure walked inside. Tav prepared herself to strike down whoever had entered, but froze upon seeing the person. It was a small blonde haired half-elf woman, dressed in a house keeper's attire. 

Tav quickly looked into her eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as she noticed they were blue. She set the candlestick down on the vanity and looked at the half-elf curiously. “Who are you?” She asked.

“My name is Abigail, milady. The master sent me to help you get dressed and make sure you come see him.” The small woman piped up in a small soft voice.  Abigail was petite and quite short, probably about an inch or two shorter than Tav was, though the druid estimated the half elf was probably around the same age as she was…well physically anyway. With elves you could really never tell. 

“And exactly where am I?” Tav crossed her arms. 

“The Crimson palace milady. My lord has taken up residence here while he stays in your realm.” Abigail replied before scurrying across the room, towards a closet. “It'd be best not to keep him waiting, my lady.” The half-elf rummaged around through the closet before taking a couple of different outfits to choose from and spreading them out over the bed. “My apologies if you'd prefer a dress, but this is all we could bring with us from our world.” 

Tav blushed a bit in embarrassment as she realized she was still only wearing a tank and boxers. She looked over at the bed and took note of the three suits that laid out in front of her. 

“These belonged to Master Tav. Master Astarion said they'd likely fit you, my lady.” 

“Now hold on, I have questions! How did you all get here, and what is this thing!?” Tav demanded as she tugged on her collar once again.

“I'm sorry I can say no more. Please miss, just get dressed.” Abigail pleaded,a hint of fear was in her tone. Tav was hesitant, but begrudgingly she slipped off her tank before sliding into one of the suits, a red one that felt a little snug on her, but actually not by much. The only issue being that she couldn't get the top three buttons of the white undershirt that went with it to button.  It left her cleavage slightly exposed. Her eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

“Okay, I'm ready.” She said, Abigail nodded and began to lead the druid out of the room. 

Perhaps this was her chance? She could make a break for it on their way out! Tav braced herself to bolt only to be met with a shockingly familiar face as she exited the room. Lae'zel.  Or well a vampire spawn that looked completely identical to her githyanki companion aside from a pair of glowing red. 

“Dear gods, Lae'zel, what happened to you? Did Astarion do this?” Tav gasped in shock. 

 “She's not your Lae'zel, milady.” Abigail spoke up.

“I was told to make sure the master’s new pet came quietly, not to answer questions.” Lae’zel simply replied.

“Come on, let's go.” Abigail took hold of Tav’s arm, giving her a gentle smile before tugging her along. Lae'zel quietly followed, a seemingly permanent scowl on her face as she watched Tav's every move, almost daring her to run for it.

The three walked down a long corridor for what seemed like hours. The sound of footsteps along with her own heartbeat seemed to be the only thing Tav could process as a gnawing anxiety set in. Her chest tightened, her throat felt dry and she could feel this nervous pain dancing across her spine. She wasn't sure why but something about this other Astarion scared her. This Vampire Ascendant.  She had never been afraid of her beloved spawn, hells she wasn't even afraid of Cazador or any other vampire she had come across on their journey, but something about her lover's counterpart made her skin crawl. 

“Well aren't you just precious?” A seductive pur tore Tav from her thoughts, forcing her to look up and realize she'd been dragged out into the ballroom. It definitely was a lot cleaner than the past time she'd been here. All the blood and wolf corpses had been dealt with.  Just how long has this other Astarion been here?  He couldn't have just started squatting here, found and kidnapped Tav, and had time to clean everything up on the same day!  The Vampire Ascendant sat upon Cazador’s old throne, looking down at Tav. His eyes trailing over her.

Tav took a deep breath before clearing her throat and trying to appear confident.

“Where is Astarion? And I mean my Astarion.” 

“You needn’t concern yourself with him any longer. You're mine now and I will give you so much more than he ever could.~” The Vampire Lord stood up and stepped towards Tav slowly. 

“I’m not your Tav. I can never be him.” The druid backed up a little, however with Lae’zel’s presence behind her she didn't have much room to retreat. She wasn't sure if reasoning with this alternate version of her lover was possible, but it was worth a shot if nothing else. However instead of listening he swiftly took her hands in his. 

“No need to be modest, my pet, you're practically like him in every way. You have his eyes, his face, the same little quirks and ticks. Granted, you're built a little different anatomically, but that's not something that ever deterred me.” Astarion moved in closer, briefly pressing his lips against her knuckles. “And now that I've found you, nothing will ever part us. Not again.” Before Tav could speak she was pulled in for another tight hug. She squirmed a bit, conflicted feelings of pity and fear were arguing back and forth in her mind as she felt him nuzzling his face into her neck. He was clearly dangerous, but he also seemed heartbroken.  He wanted anyway to have his lover back so badly he crossed time itself to see them again. Or at least someone who resembled them. 

But Tav knew deep down she wouldn't be enough to fill the void left by her counterpart. Gods, she hoped there would be a happy ending to all of this.

~•~•~•~•~•~

A little note from ChaoticDruid: I really hope it didn't suck! I haven't published a fanfic in so long >~<  This idea had just been swimming around in my brain forever I just had to get it out!  I got the idea from the PS5 launch party animation and seeing Launch Astarion and EA Astarion flirting just made me go okay but what if it was Ascended Astarion and Spawn Astarion?

I don't know if I will continue it. I have other things I wanna write and my ADD makes this stuff so freaking hard. But maybe maybe not 🤞🤞 

Part 2: LETS GOOOOOOO

[peterparkouryo]

beneath the surface | ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

prompt; Peter faces a hard battle, one to which he loses.

warnings: angst, mention of death and violence

word count: 3.0k

disclaimer: i legit have not seen nwh in two years, i had to literally make this story based off a summarization from google. i apologize its so bad i had no patience to rewatch the movie.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist

Someone once told you that, even when something slips your mind, trust that it will find its way back to you. You always deemed this true, everything always sought out to swivel into your prosperity no matter how impossible you thought it to be.

It was like you were a ladybug, always lucky. Well, you'd like to think that was the case, in reality it wasn't even close. The past few months were hell. Not only for you, but for your best friend Peter Parker.

He had to deal with the heavy weight instantaneously put upon his shoulders. The consequence of figuring out how to live a life he wrestled so hard to keep private. You knew Peter thought the burden of the entire world perceiving his double life drained him completely. It was not as if he had cut everyone who already knew of him being Spider-Man out his life, no, if anything it only made him want to protect them more. 

The hardship the poor boy went through in just the last few months made your heart ache, knowing how difficult it was for him to function without the help of his mentor. You reached out to Peter every single day, making sure he remembered there were people who cared for him and he could turn to.

As for you, being a friend of Spider-Man (or as Ned likes to say, "F.O.S") is a tough task. The stares you received not only in school, but in public were haunting. You knew everyone was judging you for being involved with who they believed was a murderer. It was nauseating to even think about, because Peter is anything but that. He's kind, caring, and modest. The boy couldn't even kill a fly if the opportunity was presented to him.

No one understood the boy, now that the secret was out. The whole world was against him, or at least majority of the world. Michelle informed you that he didn't really enjoy this particular version of fame he gained, and you couldn't help but agree.

When you heard of Peter's visit with Doctor Strange, you learn he tried in his own way to make things right again. He asked the wizard (who you didn't think was very kind based off your brief interaction with him) to cast a spell that would make the whole world forget he was Spider-Man in hopes that he could reverse what ruined you and your friends' chances of getting into college.

Peter being Peter finds a way to mess it up, which not only decreased his chances of ever having the world forget of his vigilance, but he apparently opened the multiverse. It allowed villains who knew of your friend being Spider-Man from other universes to enter your world, and the entire thing was damn near impossible to believe.

At first, you couldn't wrap your head around anything that was told to you, that was until Peter shows you proof of his encountrment with a man with literal mechanical octopus arms, a dinosaur—or more appropriately, a lizard, a man made of sand, and another one who produced electricity from his body.

Your friend felt responsible to help them. After learning their fates, which meant if he sent any of them back to their respectable worlds, they'd die. It wasn't an ideal situation, and Peter was noble, too noble. He wanted to cure them, to give them a second chance.

Reluctantly, you accepted his wishes of wanting you, MJ, and Ned's help, because he was your friend and if wanting to cure random villains from different universes cleared his mind of the world knowing his second life, then you'd be right by his side.

You thought the whole mission to cure would be an easy task, but you were so, so wrong.

Ned offered you and MJ to stay with him at his Nona's while Peter handled the more difficult part of the curing obstacle, and later that night is where you and your friends discovered the horrible, devastating news.

A anarchic consequence. Looking at the TV where the news played, you absorb the information of May's death. You didn't want to believe the details you consumed, because May was almost like a mother to you, and she loved you as much as she loved Peter. You did not even want to think about what was going through Peter's mind, and you just hope the poor boy was not spiralling. 

If you know your best friend, you know that when he spirals, he often isolates himself from everyone and everything. It's a habit you wish he would break, but you suppose anything as heart aching as losing your mother like figure, the choice of isolation is certainly necessary.

You and MJ argue with Ned of wanting to find Peter, making sure he was okay. Before the two of you could walk out the door, Ned reveals that he was in possession of Doctor Strange's sling ring Peter had given him. He concocted the idea that with the ring, it would be easier to find Peter. 

Sharing a look with MJ, you shrug and allow Peter's other best friend to give his idea a shot.

However, when Ned tries to use the ring and concentrates on wanting to find Peter, he finds two older versions of him.

You were in utter awe at this revelation. Two other variants of your best friend almost felt like a dream you could not wake up from.

Eventually after what seemed forever you finally find your Peter, on the roof of your school. When you hug him, immediately engulfing him in your warmth, he breaks down in your arms. It broke your heart, to see Peter so dejected. You wanted to take the pain away. Wanted to remind him that no matter what, you would be there.

The two other Peter's connect and share similar experiences, and encourage your friend to continue fighting.

After the words of encouragement, a new plan came about and Peter, you and your friends team up with the two other world Spider-Men to develop a more strategized cure for the villains.

Finally, you were all lead to the final confrontation at the Statue of Liberty, which is being renovated into Caption America's shield, in honour of him you assume. 

MJ, Ned and yourself manage to help Peter cure the multiverse villains, but not without obvious obstacles. The difficult of such tasks lead to an almost devastating conclusion. The last villain, being the Green Goblin was twisted, wicked even. You pursued that he was the reason for May's life being taken. In the final moments of the battle, the Green Goblin's aggression reaches its peak. 

His aggressive tactics, throwing pumpkin bombs and using his glider caused a significant amount of damage to the structure of the Statue of Liberty. Almost concluded in the death of your friend MJ. Thankfully the second eldest Peter caught your friend in time, but unfortunately for you as the structure falls, along with the shield, so do you.

Death for you, never was a thing you'd think about too often. Sometimes maybe a second thought, but not mindful enough to be taken serious. Sure, you wondered what it would feel like, or even be. Once you die, would you fall into an endless sleep, or would you see nothing forever? As you fell, death was all you could think about, of course. You hope once you reach the bottom of your fate, you wouldn't have to feel the pain and the demise would swallow you right away. You also hoped that Peter somehow, once you were gone, knew how much he meant to you. Knew how much you loved him as more than a friend.

As cliche as it is to be in love with your best friend, you fantasized the intention of being with him no matter how hard you didn't want to, knowing you shouldn't be allowed to even feel as much love for him as you did.

Deep down, you knew Peter deserves to be loved, and you were glad he found it within you, platonically. You could die happy with that acknowledgement.

Before the dark angel could even reach its hand out to you, you drop into familiar arms. Peter quickly swings you to the now fallen shield, holding you as you register the last thirty seconds, the cogs turning in your brain. You stare at your friend like a deer in headlights as he carefully puts you down.

Surely you thought death was on the doorstep.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his gaze carefully supervising your every move.

You nod your response as you look around, allowing your heavy breathing to mellow out.

"I thought—" You start as Peter steps closer.

"I know, I know. You're okay." He reassures, and you examine him, noticing his right eye. Blood invaded around his pupil and you scan the rest of his features, the identical crimson red colour decorated his face as well as a few bruises.

You hug the boy without a second thought, and in turn he accepts. 

When Peter pulls away, you feel the word vomit take over you, and you open your mouth to say something.

Before the words you so desperately wanted to say could leave you, you glance behind Peter at the man responsible for May's death, a shiver running down your spine when as you feel a almost sinister shift in the air overtake.

Peter taking notice of your expression turns around in confusion.

It was almost uncanny, frightening and astonishing how swiftly you watch Peter's mood change from concern to instant anger. Not the typical anger someone feels, no, you could practically endure his revise. The boy looked murderous. The switch being so drastically different to the Peter you thought you knew made you question if you even knew him at all. 

This was the same Peter Parker who you believed would never hurt a fly, the same Peter Parker who did not even want to idealize the concept of murder. Yet, here he was standing in front of you with a rage so intense, you step back in fear of what was to come.

"Poor Peter. Too weak to send me home to die." The Green Goblin grin was troublesome as he spoke.

"No," You friend starts. "I just wanna kill you myself." Peter's was raspy and low with anger.

“Attaboy.” The man grinned.

Enraged, Peter rushes at the Green Goblin, and boy do they clash. Your eyes widen at the scene taking place in front of you. The spider-boy pummels him with a murderous intensity. The Goblin breaks free, releasing his arm blades and swings them at your friend. 

You gasp in horror, completely frozen. Watching such an extreme unfold before you was mind boggling, and the thoughts creeping in your head made you want to try and do something, but what could you do? Peter had the upper hand and it was brutal, so of course you were stuck in place out of fear.

Peter batters the Goblin until he's down on his knees, and unfortunately for the villain more barrage of punches given from the boy are received and the Goblin collapses to the ground, spent.

The fearsome inside of you increased and for some reason, tears threatened your eyes. You never really were a crier, but watching your best friend lay into Goblin, who took punch after punch caused unwanted emotions to course through you. You were so beyond scared at the person you swore you understood.

Observing the Goblin carefully, you don't realize your Peter grab the villain's glider, which was crashed at the base of the shield. 

He drifts towards the Goblin, murder in his eyes, lifting the glider over his head and you register the fact that he had no intentions of coming to his senses. 

Peter screams, unrelenting, about to bring the gleaming blade down on the helpless villain.

"Peter—" You cry as the much older version of himself steps in front of your Peter, a pleading look on his face, one you recognize.

Slowly, your friend snaps out of his angry, murderous intentions and relaxes. You observe the wordless understanding between the two Peter Parkers.

Shunk.

The familiar welch of skin being stabbed fills your ears, and the oldest Peter's face falls.

A grimace etches on your face, watching the Goblin stab the elder Spider-Man in the back.

The pumpkin bomb throwing villain staggers upright as his victim falls before him, clearly eager for more. He glances at you, and you take a unconscious step back, despite being at a safe distance already.

You could tell the man was taunting Peter as he looks over at him again.

"She was there because of you." The Goblin smiles, and Peter faces him, eyes narrowing.

"I may have struck the blow, but you." He laughs. "You are the one that killed her." The goblin cackles with glee at his own words.

You gaze at Peter just in time, eyeing as the second oldest version of himself throws the Goblin's cure, your Peter grabs it and briskly stabs the cackling villain in the neck. You watch the man stagger, shocked and in pain.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

Goblin falls back on his haunches, then a glint of recognition settles within him.

"Peter?" Norman stares at your friend in confusion as his eyes drift down to an injured version of your Peter, and if you didn't know any better, the look on his face seemed almost remorseful.

"What have I done?" 

Eventually after all villains are cured, you step back to let your friend have his heart to heart moment with the other versions of himself. The only thing you wanted to do was search for MJ and Ned, hoping them to be okay.

However, your thought train is interrupted as your friend approaches you.

"I have a plan," Is the first thing he says to you once he's close.

"You have a plan?" You furrow your eyebrows.

Peter nods and he stares at you for a good while and he clears his throat.

"The sky—" He cuts himself off and you drag your gaze to the purple cracks in the sky as vague figures catch your attention.

"Are those..." You trail off and look at your defeated friend.

"I'm going to get Doctor Strange to cast another spell." Peter informs you and you're skeptical, but somewhere in your brain you figure it probably has something to do with getting rid of whatever was in the sky.

"Okay." You nod.

Peter sighs and shakes his head, like you were not understanding what it was he was trying to say. 

"Don't be mad."

"Why would I be mad?"

"I'm going to ask him to make everyone forget who I am." He says, and you tilt your head in confusion.

"Like the same spell you already tried?" Peter shakes his head at your question and reaches for your hands.

"No, I mean, me. Peter Parker."

You feel your heart drop to your stomach at his words. Still, not completely understanding what it is he was trying to tell you, but if it's what you think it is, you sensed an unfamiliar feeling simmer.

"But that means I would—Ned and MJ." You stare at him in disbelief as he nods.

"I know, but I have to. I can't let anything else get out of control." Peter presses his lips together as he gauges your reaction to his words.

Ultimately, he was right. With the sky purple and cracked, and unwanted figures coming through, it was way out of control. You did not want to forget your friend before you could even confess your feelings for him. But you also did not want any more consequences for him to deal with.

Forgetting him meant forgetting everything you've been through with the boy. You couldn't bare the thought of losing someone you cared so much about. You did not even want to know what it's like to not have Peter in your life, not remembering him.

"I have to find Ned and MJ, to let them know as well." Peter states and you blink back into reality and gaze at him.

It was now or never, you thought.

"I'm in love with you." You blurt and you cringe at the five words and clear your throat before he could even respond. "I just thought you should know." You shrug and confidently never break eye contact with him.

You can tell Peter is racking your words through his brain, and you fear the worst as the silence becomes more prominent.

He mutters your name and pulls a strand of hair behind your ear. You were eager for heartbreak and you knew it didn't matter what his reply would be.

"I want you to know that I feel how you feel too." Peter reassures, and you gaze at him for a long while.

He feels how you feel too.

"And I promise," Peter's eyes never leave yours as he places his hands on both sides of your face. His touch was so gentle and reassuring that whatever he said next, you would believe him.

"I promise once this is all over, I will find you, and tell you everything." 

At his words, you hug him, not wanting to let go. You think to yourself and pray his words become true. You did not want to have to live a life without Peter.

Slowly he pulls away, and gives your forehead a kiss, replacing his touch with his own instead.

"I promise." Peter whispers.

Even when something slips your mind, trust that it will find its way back to you. You remind yourself of those words as you replay his promise in your head over and over again.

You remind yourself of those words when Peter swings away to find Ned and MJ.

You remind yourself of those words as you look up into the sky, detecting something so foreign course through you. Your mind alters into a different outlet.

You couldn't remember exactly what you were reminding yourself of, the thought completely lost from your subconscious. 

taglist: @victoriousskylar @imawhoreforu @myfangirlinessononeblog @astrogirl0666

shout out to the divider account: @saradika-graphics

[hazelfoureyes]

How are you so good at writing smut??? It legit makes my body warm all over and my brain fuzzy, you fucking smut wizard <3 do you have any tips on writing smut? Or just writing in general?

Thank you for such a compliment! 💖🥹This is mildly embarrassing-- but I really am so horny?? I am not playing a character. lol I am a goblin. When I watch porn (for pleasure) I just take in the sounds and the sights, really just going full art reviewer on that shit for inspo even when I'm not trying to.

"Wow his cock got so big suddenly, is he going to cum? his head his massive...omg he sunk it right back into that guy after he came?? he's still going!? DICKS CAN DO THAT?" *takes mental notes*

"Her hips kept pulling away there before she orgasmed, overstimulated a bit maybe, love how he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back down" *jots down on my notes app*

"wow the way he said that-- jesus I just got dizzy I need to hear <whatever character> say that." *writes Luci saying that shit immediately* I am unqualified to give tips on anything, but I'll tell you what I tend to do! For smut; I just focus on sensations, I think. We can all see what sex looks like! Imagining the feeling of it, that's whats so fucking hot to me. Why is that man moaning? What is he feeling that is so good? What made her legs shake like that? Yeah his dick went into her pussy. Nice. But like---- was it warm? did his head get caught on the way in, popping past that unyielding flesh untrained to his size, just at her entrance? did the feeling of wet walls and a tight grip make him go weak for a second, mind blank?

For general writing; oh geez....I have a super visual brain, so I just try my best to describe what I'm seeing.

If it feels like I've forced someone to say or do something, then I back up and try again.

I wrote a part in A Doe in Fall part 4 that I had to redo; I had reader slap the detective when he suggested maybe she was hitting on him, a man coming to intervene making Brady get nervous and apologize before leaving all flustered.

But I realized--- no, this reader is too smart. She would never make a scene like that, she wouldn't know what might happen. What if everyone watches her then sit with Alastor? What if people notice and somehow remember seeing him? What if they recognize him? I loved the scene but I had to remove it. She would never do that, even if I loved seeing it.

I try to just shut down a little and see what my brain throws out unfiltered. It's really mentally taxing. I'm either 100% focused or I can't do it. I proofread maybe 6 or 7 times, or more. I don't stop until I get through it at least once without edits, and if I find myself bored of reading it, then I walk away for a second. If I am too disinterested to read it again for proofreading or just feeling the flow of it, then why would anyone else want to?

Hazbin Smut Masterlist I spent way too long rereading before posting

I felt this like this wasn’t helpful at all 😭

[syyskirjat]

Sueños de piedra (ch1)

Okay, I promised (to myself) to check out whatever media won the ultimate obscure blorbo tournament ( @who-do-i-know-this-man (I wasn't sure whether to tag you or not but in the end I figured I might as well, hope you don't mind I guess))

Turns out that it's a guy from a 2015 Spanish YA fantasy book

And turns out there's a free sample available! Which is lucky for me because I'm currently very broke

Sueños de piedra by Iria G. Parente and Selene M. Pascual

I don't speak Spanish so I'm gonna rely on the translator quite a lot lmao (well I understand some Spanish actually, but definitely not enough to read a whole book)

The title translates to something like "Dreams of Stone" I think?

Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away, a prince rewarded a wizard for helping rescue a young girl in trouble. Charming. Too bad none of this is true. In reality, the prince dreams of glory and revenge; the magician, with her spells not always being a disaster and the young woman in trouble, with fleeing from a past that torments her... and from the memory of the man she has killed. Once upon a time...

(Yes this is just Google Translate, sorry)

Okay so, prince, magician and a damsel in distress? Prince wants revenge for something, who knows what, magician is having trouble doing the magic, and the damsel is in fact a killer? Ok ok

The dedication goes as follows:

To all those who embark on a direct journey towards their dreams every day. May you always reach your destination.

Okay so Marabilia is a place? That's apparently also the name of this book series. Is this like the kingdom then? So it consists of three islands, two small ones and one big? Or is it supposed to be a continent? It definitely seems too small to be a continent

I know the blorbo is called Arthmael de Silfos so I'm guessing he's from the Silfos area in the north of the big island then. I can see what's probably a city called Duan and a forest called "Merlon Forest". We also have different towers around the big island, one of which seems to be called the Tower of Black Magic. (I didn't even need to use the translator for those yay xD)

Okay the first chapter is called Arthmael so I guess we're meeting our blorbo already, which is nice

— Let me make it clear: are you going to give my crown to a bastard?

Okay..... the very first line and I already think Arthmael might be a bit of a spoiled brat (I assume he's in fact the prince)

Apparently Arthmael just found out that he has an illegitimate older brother but I guess this brother's mother is noble anyway so it's legit? I dunno yet. Arthmael thinks this guy is blackmailing his father somehow and is already considering poison as a solution

And anyway, what kind of a name is Jacques for a king?

lmao, so much shade to all the kings called Jacques

Okay so Jacques's family is very powerful and loved by the people of Silfos and the king fears a civil war if he disrespects his claim to the throne. Alright. Kinda weird since based on Arthmael's thoughts, this society has a similar attitude to bastards as in European history, but okay then. I wonder if Jacques is even actually the king's son or is this some kind of a ruse?

Arthmael is very cheeky and even references his dad's love life directly to his face, his dad is not very happy

The king tells him to just be a good boy and hopefully they'll find him some crown princess to marry so he'll get a kingdom that way

I guess these different areas on the map are kingdoms then, that makes sense. They look like very small kingdoms but this is a small place in general.

Arthmael doesn't seem to mind this idea except that there's only one possible princess like that in Marabilia and that's Ivy de Dione. Not sure what's wrong with her.

Well, who knows? Maybe, if I wait a few moons, some other bastard, in Verves or Idyll, will come out from under a rock and come offer me her hand.

Somebody's very snarky, that's cute

Arthmael is very haughty about how the people have always known him as the crown prince and accepted him as such, Jacques laughs and asks what has he even done for the people. He's like well he hasn't really done much yet because he was planning to do things once he became king, but he's been supporting the local business (taverns) and employing servants (lmao). Also apparently there are some girls he's seeing...

Apparently Jacques's family are big traders and business people (despite being noblemen) and create lots of jobs, and also big on charity, so everybody loves them

Arthmael is jealous of how proud his dad looks when Jacques says this, and how he's never looked at him like that

Well, I guess you're kind of a little shit so it makes sense, Arthmael

— If the smartest thing is to become the idol of a few starving people in order to be king, I can do it too.

Oh my god, this little brat

He declares that he's going to be a hero, to overshadow the charity of Jacques' family, because heroes are remembered by history while philanthropist aren't

So he plans to become a storybook Prince Charming, saving damsels in distress etc.

Jacques finds this understandably hilarious, the king is not amused

Once Jacques leaves, the king again offers to arrange a marriage to Arthmael, specifically with the princess of Dione

I'm almost tempted. I have never been to Dione, but they say that their ships are the lightest and fastest, and that sailors come to their shores from the other side of the sea, speaking strange languages that only they understand. Who come from lands where women wear short dresses, if they wear anything at all. Places where war is so normal that, as soon as a child is strong enough to pick up a sword, they push him to the front lines.

Alright then, I see what he fixates on

Was there anything wrong with the princess then or?

Barbarians. I remove the thought from my mind.

Oh okay. What a charming young man /s

Dione is like right next to Silfos according to the map btw, is this like one of those neighbourly feuds?

Okay he says it's because he doesn't want a foreign kingdom, he wants to keep his home, which is fair I guess

The king is like what do you want me to do, kill Jacques and his pregnant wife? And Arthmael is just like yeah great idea, because he's a dumbass. The king is like wtf

Apparently Jacques' family is from that Duan city that I noted earlier, and his mother died a few days ago and apparently "her loss is greatly felt"

The king regrets spoiling Arthmael too much, and talks about how Arthmael doesn't understand anything about suffering or anything and only cares about girls

Arthmael is already considering faking his death to make them all feel sorry, because of course he is, he's exactly that kind of guy

He says he doesn't want to go try to charm the princess, he'd rather just go off on his own (also there's a whole bit about how only a man can rule Dione or something and the king of Dione won't accept his daughter to become a ruler)

His dad tells him no, just stay here and be a good boy, don't make everybody gossip about drama in the royal family

Arthmael is like hey you managed to hide your bastard son for years, you can hide my disappearance

They fight a bit more but then Arthmael just storms out, grabs a few things from his room and leaves

a change of clothes, a bag of coins, my sword, and my favourite cloak. I do not need anything else.

Okay then, good luck I guess

To be a hero you only need a brave heart. Or so they say.

I feel like you also need to not be a selfish prick but maybe that's optional

Okay end of first chapter!

Our blorbo seems like a real brat!

But I guess the point is probably that he needs to learn some lessons along the way, or something like that, idk. I'm sure there's a reason for why whoever entered him into the tournament likes him so much

I'm guessing the damsel in distress is not the princess? Probably? She wasn't called a princess anyway. TBH she's the character I'm currently the most curious about. The next chapter is from the point of view of someone called Lynne and I hope that's her. Could be the magician too though I guess? No wait, I think the magician is a guy. Altho idk maybe Lynne could be a guy's name, I don't fucking know.

I'm guessing that Arthmael will try to rescue the damsel so he can be a hero, because that's what heroes are supposed to do, but then it'll go wrong somehow? And then the magician will get involved somehow, I have no clue.

That's all my predictions I suppose. Altho I'm guessing that Jacques might turn out to be a villain somehow, I didn't get the vibe that he was particularly great either, just not as much of a brat as Arthmael, and it would then be something for Arthmael to do when he gets back home. Then again maybe the book will surprise me, who knows. To be honest, it would feel a bit like a cop out if it turns out that the guy he hates actually is evil, but it could be handled well, and it's not like I like Jacques either so far. He seems extremely sus too

No guesses as to what the title refers to yet, it could be anything

Idk, like I said, the damsel's storyline is the one that interests me the most rn, it might actually get me to read further (good job, blurb, you got me)

I still have a surprisingly good amount of the free sample left, there's actually nine chapters here, so idk, maybe I'll keep going? We'll see

I'm pretty happy with how much I was able to follow the text even on my own, altho I definitely had to rely on the translator. I would not have had the patience to try to translate all of this myself. But I definitely understood multiple full sentences! Yaaay xD

Apologies to fans of this book series, I hope I didn't seem too rude

[ch3rrybite]

do I make these out in a single ask? hm

💚💜💕🏳️‍🌈💀

lmao that looks like a sentence in itself

💚 - hmmmmm i think 1. i have too many favourite characters, and there's too much stuff that i nitpick about with the marauders, esp cos i'm british soooooo

💜 - HARRY POTTER IS SO HOT AND IT’S CRIMINAL THAT PEOPLE DON’T TALK ABOUT IT ENOUGH.

like, we’re talking about a boy who was literally famous his whole life, and the second he set foot in the wizarding world, people were falling over themselves to get a glimpse of him. and for good reason.

harry wasn’t just some scrawny, quiet kid in the corner—he was a jock/popular boy (quidditch captain, hello?!), he had charmingly messy hair in that Potter way, and he had striking green eyes like Lily Evans (legit bombshell).

also, can we talk about how harry was canonically being asked out CONSTANTLY? like, in fourth year, girls were lining up to get his attention for the yule ball. in sixth year, romilda vane tried to slip him a love potion because she was so desperate to date him. even fleur delacour (literal veela and the epitome of beauty) kissed him on the cheek when he was literally 14?!!!!!!! man had rizz.

he's also the most himbo himbo, to ever himbo. and no i won't expand on that, you'll just have to take my word on it.

like, this man walked into a room, and you knew he was something special. the unintentional bedhead, the intense green eyes, the confidence he carried without even realizing it—harry james potter is absolutely hotter than people give him credit for, and i will die on this hill. 💀

💕 - james x bellatrix—but make it dark, obsessive, and utterly one-sided on bellatrix’s part.

it started with curiosity. she watched sirius brag at family gatherings about his brilliant best friend who apparently has more magic in his ring finger than the people in this room. james potter, the heir to a respected pureblood line who is supposedly good enough to rival even Sirius (the black heir????) in every way. bellatrix should hate him—he’s everything she despises: arrogant, self-assured, reckless, and worst of all a blood traitor. but the way sirius talks about him grates on her nerves, and she can’t help but wonder why sirius is so endeared by him.

the answer, she discovers, is everything.

james potter doesn’t just exist—he dominates, in a way she's only ever seen one person do (the dark lord). he’s effortlessly brilliant, the kind of wizard who could rival any of the greatest pureblood minds if he cared enough to try. straight O's, slacker at potions, but would have even slughorn beat out for obscure knowledge if he bothered, and his charms mastery .... unfathomable. bellatrix hates how easily sirius brags about James, as if he’s untouchable, as if his successes are sirius’s to claim by association.

and then there’s james himself. the way he carries himself—lazy confidence paired with relentless skill. he’s a born leader, commanding without trying, the kind of person who makes others want to follow him with barely a thought. his wandwork is flawless and his charms results elegant; so effortless it makes her blood boil.

this leads to her fixation on his hands. it sets something dark alight in her, and she wonders what else those skilled hands could do. she shouldn’t think about it, but the thought clings to her, festering and vulgar.

it doesn’t stop there. it never stops with bellatrix. her jealousy of sirius becomes a bitter obsession with james. she doesn’t just want him—she wants to steal him, to take whatever sirius has, because she always has to win, because he took the black heirship from her, even though she was the firstborn. she wants to see james look at her the way he looks at his precious mudblood, with that infuriating softness and devotion, and she wants to break him.

but james potter doesn’t see her. not really. she’s just another pureblood supremacist to him, another cog in the Black family’s toxic machine. another mad pureblood, a rabid dog needing to be put down. and that’s what makes her obsession all the more sickening—he doesn’t even know how much she craves him, how much she needs him.

for bellatrix, it’s not love. it’s hunger. it’s a twisted mix of envy, lust, and a need to conquer. james potter becomes her fixation not because of who he is, but because of what he represents: the one thing she can’t have, no matter how desperately she tries to take it.

🏳️‍🌈 - peter pettigrew.

i don’t headcanon him as queer, not because i don’t think he could be, but because i’ve always imagined him as this straight, white, working-class irish kid who already feels like an outsider for other reasons.

peter has this complex, subtle dynamic where he’s always "othered" within his friend group. he’s the one who doesn’t quite fit into the 'too cool for school' narrative of the marauders. i imagine his father as a blue-collar, rough-around-the-edges type, maybe with a streak of heavy-handedness after a few drinks, and definitely the kind of person who harbors strong opinions about "manliness" and "the right way" to be. he's definitely been laid off a few times and just really hates the middle and upper classes. peter grows up absorbing this—seeing a world that’s hard and unyielding, one that he can’t ever imagine rebelling against.

his upbringing leaves little room for difference. his father’s ingrained homophobia, coupled with the class divide between peter and his posh, confident, pureblood friends, would be something he’s painfully aware of. peter sees sirius and james thrive in their defiance—whether it’s sirius rejecting his family or james wearing his arrogance like armor—and resents them for the ease with which they dismiss societal expectations that peter feels crushed beneath. (peter is also definitely a northerner so there's that weird dynamic too)

even remus, who’s quieter and more reserved, still feels like he belongs in their world because he’s a better fit for their rebellious, larger-than-life personalities, feeding in with ideas and ways to evade getting caught. peter, meanwhile, has been taught to keep his head down, to conform, to survive. his queerness doesn’t come into play, not because he wouldn’t be accepted by his friends, but because he wouldn’t even let himself consider it, because of it being someone his father would hate and his mother would ostracize.

in some ways, peter becomes a product of this environment—he starts to resent his friends, their privilege, their charisma, their freedom. he grows up emulating his father, the very man he might despise deep down, because it’s the only template he has for power or survival. the idea of exploring queerness doesn’t fit into his rigid worldview. instead, peter internalizes his bitterness and lets it fester, further driving a wedge between himself and the people he once called friends.

it’s not that peter couldn’t be queer—it’s that his upbringing, insecurities, and resentment make him cling to the status quo as tightly as he can, even as it destroys him.

💀 - james potter ok, hear me out.

imagine how different the story would feel with lily living while james is the one who dies that night. he becomes this haunting, larger-than-life presence throughout the series—a man who was brave and brilliant, but who left behind an enormous void that no one can quite fill.

lily would carry his loss like a scar that never fully heals. she’d be resilient, of course—raising harry on her own with all the love and fierceness she has—but there would be moments where she looks at her son and sees james in his messy hair or the mischievous glint in his eye, and it’s almost too much to bear. she would tell harry stories of his father, painting him as a hero, but there’d always be a pang of sadness behind her words, a longing for the life they never got to have.

sirius, on the other hand, would be utterly broken. he’d put on a front of recklessness and bravado, but james was his anchor, his brother, his everything. without james, sirius would spiral even faster, his grief manifesting as anger and self-destruction. he’d be haunted by the what-ifs, by the knowledge that he should’ve been there to protect him.

remus would feel the marauders collapsing around him. he’d try to hold the pieces together, but james’s absence would leave a hole that nothing could fill. he’d be weighed down by survivor’s guilt, constantly wondering if there was something he could’ve done differently to save his friend.

and harry—harry would grow up in the shadow of a father he never knew, hearing endless stories of how great james was. he’d feel the weight of those expectations, wondering if he could ever live up to the legacy of a man who died protecting him. he’d see the love and grief in lily’s eyes whenever she talks about james, and he’d ache for the relationship they were robbed of.

james’s death would echo through every part of the story, shaping the people who loved him in profound and heartbreaking ways. his absence would be as powerful as his presence ever was, and his memory would haunt the wizarding world as the man who stood tall against voldemort—and paid the ultimate price for it.

[thevesuvianchronicles]

Burnt Amber

I was reading something the other night about the fact that in the dark the cones in our eyes legit can't respond to light like, at all. considering my recent bg3 binge that obviously got me thinking abt a certain sassy vampire and thus... this piece. (I've also been told there's a scene that could go along with this but I legit just got to act 3) enjoy!

spoilers for vague bg3 things

If he had to explain it - which he never would- the world lost its color. Many people looked back upon childhood so happily, everything had been brighter, the world bigger, love was so easy and quickly fleeting. A babe’s eyes opened to blurry yet vivid shades, pastels, and tints. Yet the first thing Astarion’s crimson eyes had seen was only the darkness of his own coffin. Color meant nothing to a vampire who’s first vivid memories consisted of clawing his way through six feet of funerary dirt.

Though his vampiric vision allowed him to make out the different threads on a rich man’s lapel, he only ever saw it in moonlight. Only a reflection, a fraction of the beauty the sun would give the fabric. Where there had been pastels there was now muted tones, tinted colors became gray, and shades became nothing but more inky darkness.

Centuries of this and he slowly began to forget the true colors the world had to offer. Was purple always so deep that one couldn’t discern where a sleeve ended and the night air began? Had yellow always seemed so dull? And red… had red always been so greedy? Soaking up and glaring back the same sick color he saw in Cazador’s eyes.

That’s all his vampiric life had been, that was all it ever would be.

Yet there he stood, watching the last of the sun’s rays dip below the horizon

Despite his suave demeanor and sweetened words, he knew how to woo someone, lure them into his bed with his body and honeyed words, and later back to his master. Yet no words could describe the sun now. It burned his irises, his eyes ached for him to blink, turn away, and do anything but stare into the sun. He simply couldn’t stop; it would take away his breath if he needed to breathe.

His first realization that color was far better within the sun was, rather unfortunately, Gale. Upon falling on his ass, Gale had done the wizardly thing and began rambling. However, Astarion wasn’t paying attention at all. His eyes were on Gale’s robe. He couldn’t remember a purple ever being so vibrant, so cocky almost, as if requiring you to look at it. It fit Gale as Astarion would come to learn. Then he saw purple everywhere. Balsam blooms carried but seemed a warmer tint of Gale’s robe. Shadowheart’s armor was even darker, matching that which Astarion saw late at night in the alleys of Bauldur’s Gate. He hadn’t really thought about it but he rather thought purple and red clashed. Leave it to that wizard from Waterdeep to be a walking fashion faux pas.

Yet despite the fashion error, Astarion couldn’t stop thinking about purple, the many different shades he had seen in a matter of days. The sun making the slightest variations more obvious to his crimson eyes.

He first realized that light is what made the colors so polluted, as if the colors were waiting to leach into his eyes when he couldn’t help but stare at the color yellow. It was, by far, not his favorite color, drawing too much attention of a rouge like himself.

Yet the golden glow of the divine seemed to suit Shadowheart. The brilliance of a guiding bolt whizzing past his ear, bathing a goblin in light, setting it ablaze. The disgusting color had saved his skin to many times to count by now. All thanks to the devotee’s hands.

The vampire couldn’t say he understood Shadowheart’s devotion. But the sheer power her belief brought the color yellow, made him quirk a brow. Such polluting brillance made him wonder if light was able to redeem every color.

The color followed him after that battle. Yellow licked at Karlach’s flames, light reflected off the golden threads of Halsin’s armor, it even sparked every time Lae’zel sharpened her sword.

Yet there was nothing that could redeem the color red. No amount of light or dark could make crimson look any better. In darkness it looked like a cesspool of all things evil, an open maw waiting to swallow whatever it could. In the light of day, it reminded him of nothing but lost souls, glowing red eyes, and a sickly grin.

It was the color Cazador liked most on him, both his clothes and his skin. It was the color his life had been reduced to. Living off such crimson ichor, so much so that it stained him, stained even his eyes from what he had gathered about vampiric looks. It was the only color that he would be happy to forget, but never could.

“You know if you stare at the sun long enough… you could go blind.” The voice came from behind him, his pointed ears finally picking up on the crunch of gravel beneath feet. His eyes did feel a bit dry as he blinked, black and swirling colors hindering his vision as he looked back over his shoulder.

The leader of their little group was… interesting to say the least. So focused on the tadpole and their companion's journeys that Astarion hadn’t learned much about their own personal goals, if any. He should work on that.

“I always love to look at beautiful things, not unlike yourself darling.” Astarion let the words lilt off his tongue, but didn’t turn away from the setting sun.

He heard a small hum from you as you settled beside him, standing close enough for him to tell that you had refreshed yourself from today’s adventuring.

Neither said anything for a while, the gentle rustle of trees and soft calls of animals in the underbrush the only noise. He had been so lost in his musings that he hadn’t realized how far the sun had set, a barely visible sliver of yellow still visible surrounded by orange and red.

“Well… now that the lovely colors are gone I do believe I’ll turn in for the night. A book and a glass of red do seem to be calling my name.” Astarion sighs, as if it would be a hassle to get up and walk the few steps to his tent. It is a hassle, to leave the presence of their leader has become more and more of a hassle on his heart than he’s willing to accept.

“Don’t go now, it’s just started to change.” Your voice was soft, softer than he has ever heard it and a glance tells him that your eyes are still on the setting sun.

“No thank you darling, I do think I’ve seen enough shades of red for a thousand lifetimes.” There is a twist of pain in his voice, one that makes him wrinkle his nose. He was getting too easy, a slip like that with Cazador and he would have been reminded how much he hates red.

“But the sky is beautiful-“

He cuts you off with a flippant wave of his hand and a scoff. A change of subject was all they needed, easier territory. “It’s just red. You know they say a red sky at night means-“

“It’s not just red Astarion.” You cut him short this time, tone sharp. He didn’t understand why you would defend such a color. Of all things to fight for, a color. They saw red spilled every day, every day their leader fought, for teiflings, for druids, for their companions. Each day that color ruined everything it touched.

“Oh? Do tell darling, what is oh so special about that distasteful mix of colors. A muddled mess of all things awful-“

“I rather think red is beautiful.” Astarion snaps his eyes up, disgust curling his lips, a flaunting jab just ready on the tip of his tongue when your eyes stop him.

At some point, he wasn’t sure when, you had turned to look at him. Eyes just as soft as your voice had been. There is a sweet tilt to your lips as he turns, as if finally seeing what they had been after.

He sees the minute shift of you eyes, as if darting back and forth. He can hear the uptick in your heartbeat, the tension releasing from your shoulders. As if the sight of him was what you were after, as if waiting to catch his eye.

Then he remembered. Remembered exactly what color his eyes now were.

“I happen to like that color.” You grinned, eyes steady on his. His mind was blank, no haughty taunt or seductive words. He could do nothing but blink as a grin spread wide on your lips and you turned back towards the sun.

“When the sun hits just right… it’s beautiful, a burst of burnt amber. I think it’s the prettiest color I’ve ever seen.” Astarion knew they were definitely not talking about the sunset anymore. He couldn’t help but stare at you. The curve of your nose, the way your smile seemed so giddy, the way the sun reflected in your own eyes.

Red was the color of the flowers Karlach had tried to pick for all of them. It was the color the jewels in Lae’zel’s armor, the color the hem of Gale’s awful robe. And it was the color of the blood you so willingly gave him. Had offered as soon as he had explained himself that night, without asking for anything in return. You were so different than what he expected.

He tutted, realizing he had been staring and turns back towards the sunset, listening closely as you go to sit on the ground. The bright yellow of the sun diffused into a russet orange that slowly eased into a vibrant, dazzled red. He sighed, slowly settling himself beside you, far closer than before.

“Yes darling, perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I could grow to love it.”

[jolyneart]

This'll be a long-ish post about my The Locked Tomb themed MTG deck and how I made like 20 versions of it before I decided to build it (and how I'm still working on it).

(I want to do legit art for this card)

If you are part of the Venn diagram of these two interests, or you want to see my slow descent into madness ovear a year of trying to put cardboard together, check the spoilers below.

So, I haven't been playing Magic for too long (a bit over a year). Weirdly I have owned cards since original Ixalan, but I never bothered learning to play until a friend invited me to play commander. I just wanted them for the pretty pictures, I have always admired Magic artists and they have been a huge inspiration on my art career.

Anyways, not too long after I started to play, I got this idea into my head that I should do a Locked Tomb commander deck.

"That'd be fun!" I thought

Well

All of these are over a year old (and are not my only first attempts, but I'll talk about those later).

I had two main issues when starting to build this deck:

1- I have never been interested into deck-building before in a card game

2- I have no fucking idea of what I'm doing

The first commander I chose to lead this deck, that I still think thematically fits within TLT universe, is Ratadrabik of Urborg

This Rat of a man has given me so many headaches, I'm sure that now I'd be able to do make a half-decent deck with him in the lead, hell I do have a black/white aristocrats deck that he could command just fine.

But my issue was that I had no idea how to balance his legends theme and zombie kindred theme at the same time, in the same deck. I was just incapable. And all of my results, budget or not, were jank piles that did very little or exploded into an infinite combo with cards like Boromir, Warden of the Tower or Nazgul. It just didn't feel right and the Locked Tomb theme was barely holding on by a thread with the things I was putting in there. There were barely ANY skeletons in any of these! (this will keep happening)

Anyways, after giving up on Ratadrabik (which btw I think would make for a great Ianthe proxy) I moved on to find some other commander and color combination that'd enable something else that wasn't a pile of legendary creatures.

Queue in Varina, Lich Queen

It's a Zombie Wizard! She cares about zombies, those are kind of early skeletons! She raises the undead herself!

Well, I do think Varina is great, and in other world where I knew how to build decks back then, she might just have been my Harrow commander deck

I don't even think the decks I made for her were that bad at all, just extremely expensive. And also the zombie theme, while much better supported mechanically, I didn't feel really represented the kind of necromantic powers we see in the books at all.

Shoutout to Mikaeus, he'd make for a great Jod if anyone wants to make a deck about our lord and savior the undying emperor.

Ok, now I'm going to take a bit of a detour to talk about what I actually like playing in mtg (not just commander). I predictably really enjoy playing black and graveyard strategies, but also really love putting big idiot beaters into the field with those strategies .I know, groundbreaking. But it is what it is, two of my favourite decks do this in one way or another.

God's perfect deck, my Sauron deck, was my first precon, that has left the lands of preconstruction long ago and is my dearest possession. Is it my most powerful deck? nope. Is it unbeatable? Not really, I almost never win with this deck.

What BIG Sauron does is, in an extremely thematic way, become a problem for everyone at the table, do evil things, and have everyone beat me down for my reanimation crimes.

If you are interested, you can check out that deck here.

Anyways sorry, back to the locked tomb, SO I like the graveyard right? Wouldn't it be nice that there'd be a famous woman necromancers in mtg? What if she leaded the deck?

Well, the most that I can say is that there really can be too much of a good thing. I'm talking about swamps.

Initially I had these two running around in the Ratadrabik deck. I still stand by the idea of having these flip walkers be young Harrow/Gideon and flip them into their "First House" versions. The Gideon/Kiriona and Kytheon/Gideon thing still drives me insane.

I was too sad discarding them, so I grabbed the Lilly card and tried to make it work, I really tried, I put on a lot of effort and care. But it didn't work, it wasn't her, it was me.

I built a pretty generic aristocrat shell, but I think that type of archetype really benefits of having more colors to work with (specially white).

So, with three commanders locked in the tomb (I also tried a Gut rakdos deck but I'm not even going to talk about it), what was next? I spent months on these and still had nothing to show for it. Was I the problem? Was I cursed with bad deck dissease?

No, that cannot be. I'm building other decks while this is going on and those are doing just fine. Lae'zel//Master Chef, Gandalf Big Artifacts. The issue might be that the head of the deck is always caring for just the one thing, there was not much diversity. I kept making Necromancers but had no Cavaliers to back them up.

If there could just be a way to have two little guys up there in the command zone. Wait a minute...

So, this was truly a jank fest. Partner is an extremely strong mechanic in commander, and Tymna is specially strong as a card to have access early. So I decided to justify using these to make the biggest pile of nonsense happen.

Equipment? check. Initiative? check. Skeletons? check. Zombies? check. Graveyard? check. Lifegain? check.

While goldfishing I realized that while the commanders do a great job to sustain the rest of the deck, the ammount of themes and archetypes made this a pile of cards that I can barely call a deck. And worst of all, they enabled two pretty strong commanders, and that didn't feel that'd be satisfactory at all in actual play.

I even prepared proxies for these! Feel free to use them if you want.

Also, I tried the whole partner thing swapping out Tymna for Ikra Shidiqi. Bringing out another whole color didn't help with the theme soup I was working with.

So I wholy abandoned the idea of both partners, and maybe even making this deck.

Maybe my hopes and dreams of having a functional silly lesbians and skeletons deck were doomed (yuri) from the beginning.

Months pass, I built 3 or 4 other decks in the meantime that work, can compete and be fun, sometimes all at the same time if you'd believe it. I had completely lost faith in this deck idea.

All until one day, were I was checking out a pile of cards I had pulled from the recent MH3 set to put them into my binder. And then I see it. There he was, this fucking guy with a shovel(?), looking at me.

I read again his fairly big wall of text, what does this guy do again?

Oh, he does necromancy stuff? attacks? wait wait, he draws POWER from the GRAVEYARD?? in JUND?

He really saved it. Not only I feel this perfectly represents the dynamics of Cavalier is in charge of creating enough thanergy for their necromancer, but ALSO does the necromancer thing, and ALSO loves having like 10 power and beating down face. This was a message, the dream was still alive.

So, I make a list, I order cards, I scrounge cards from my other black decks. And there it is. It's real

The Locked Tomb Griddlehark Commander Deck

But... that's not how my list looks right now. Yeah I know this deck is cursed into being always changing I think. But, the main issue here was what I said before. It had to pull cards from multiple decks to sustain itself. And I learned quickly that I don't like having my baby, my Sauron, being not functional, and that keeping track of what cards are where and swapping them out constantly sucks tremendously.

So, I pulled back most of the cards to their original decks. What was left was a corpse, a beautiful incomplete deck. So I selected cards from my collection, lower powered ones, niche ones, weird ones, and put them in for their more powerful counterparts.

It's function is extremely simple, it fills it's graveyard quickly, ramps, and with Coram on the battlefield, you turn that self-mill into card advantage, the graveyard into a power source and bring back powerful creatures like the Resurrection Beasts (Eldrazi)

There also are skeletons in there, of course.

This deck needed to die many deaths to exist. But isn't that the theme?

I'll make sure to put up the new decklist on my moxfield whenever I get a few upgrades.

[ultraericthered]

I've been very familiar with Wicked for several years now. I read the novel that the musical was based on (which mostly kind of sucked), knew the story of the musical, and have listened to the soundtrack. But it alway sat just okay with me. In particular, the character of Elphaba Thropp, I felt, was a very interesting concept - what if the Wicked Witch of the West was a layered, sympathetic, relatable person whose whole deal was so much more complex than simply being "wicked" for no reason, and that popular image of her as the cruel, nasty, fearsome hag we're all familar with was a myth based in a propagandized narrative spun to turn people against her? With Glinda the Good Witch, the Wizard of Oz, and the land of Oz itself all being deeper and darker than they appeared at a glance? That is fantastic on an imagination level, though it took the musical to fully realize the idea, and we got a great take on the Oz lore and great iteration of the Wicked Witch as a result. But I still didn't feel Elphie was anything too much greater than the character who sourced her (Margaret Hamilton's Witch in particular is a great villain on her own merits), and she sort of started a trend in both parodies and legit works of going for the lazy "they're not truly evil, they're just misunderstood!" villain revisionism, particularly when coupled with the equally lazy "and the people you thought were good guys were actually the real villains!" Count Dracula, Captain Hook, Maleficent, Jafar, Cruella De Vil, the Grinch, Carmen Sandiego, Lex Luthor, Light/Kira and even other lesser villains like the fucking Beanstalk Giant got this treatment over time. It's like Wicked made what was done as a joke with the Big Bad Wolf way back when acceptable to play straight, so it was a sore spot on Elphaba's legacy for me.

But let me tell you...watching Wicked Part 1 in theaters in the year 2024 the other day made something go off in my head. Elphaba's story through just Act 1 alone struck a chord with me that it hadn't before, to the point where I had to hold back tears towards the very end. Suddenly not only was all the political commentary in the story so much clearer and more relevant than it had ever been, but I got Elphie's character arc and a core piece of it that ties directly into that political commentary after it had gone over my head for years.

SPOILERS FOR WICKED PART ONE WILL FOLLOW

So the part of Elphaba's story that got me was her "relationship" with the Wizard of Oz. How she lived her life since childhood idolizing this man, absolutely loving the idea of the Wizard, being thankful to him for every blessing she and the land of Oz had, and dreaming of a day where she'd one day meet him, be apprenticed by him, and become like family with him because if he, the Great and Wonderful Wizard of Oz himself, could accept her, then the entire rest of Oz would have no choice but to accept her too. She'd finally have the mass acceptance, validation, and care from others she'd always yearned for. And yeah, that has to do with her self worth issues and yearning to belong somewhere with someone, and I always got that well before seeing the movie. Struggling with your self esteem and feeling ostracized from the world around you due to having been born different from others with whom you share that world was always the relatable aspect for Elphie for me, 'cause I've been there.

But the stuff with the Wizard once she's actually met him took on a whole new meaning for me now. It's been said ad nauseum now that the idea of some carnival barker huckster fraudster simpleton being put into a position of political power and leadership despite having no actual power and next to no merits to him all while others around him with their own sinister agendas look to curry favor with him in order to use him to their advantage and reap benefits from his position, and these people creating a scapegoat out of whoever can serve as a "common enemy" to unite people in fear, anger, hatred, grievance, prejudice and opposition to, is more timely, hard-hitting and realistic now than ever before, drawing parallel to the rise of our incoming First Felon President and the MAGA nightmare we cannot seem to awaken from. All of it said, all of it true. However, it cuts way deeper for me. In my scenario, the Wizard of Oz isn't the Felon, as I never had any faith or loving for that man and all he did was exceed my reservations about him. The Wizard of Oz is my country, the (former) United States of America itself. Just like Elphaba in Emerald City, on the days following November 5 2024, I had to look at something I'd been taught was Great And Wonderful since childhood, something I'd loved and gone on believing truly was Great And Wonderful for years, and reckon with the harsh truth that I'd learned about, loved, and had wanted to serve something that never actually existed. And the fault doesn't lie with the Founding Fathers and the fundamental creed that America was built upon, which is as Great And Wonderful now as it was all those centuries ago. The fault is with the sad reality that, due to people, ideas, beliefs, systems, institutions, traditional practices, holes and vices in government, and the corrosion of democracy, the nation we've had since the founding, the nation I've lived in from the day I was born, has constantly failed to live up to its own core ideals. People in power still can and do take away "certain inallieable rights" that all humans are born with from the humans born with them, all citizens are not treated with equality, "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" is continously impeded, we are not "indivisible" no matter how fragile the states hold together, there is not "liberty and justice for all", there exists a certain class of people who are, in fact, above the law, the three branches of governments seldom function the way they were made to, and the melting pot isn't "melting" people the right way as much since we've become more exclusionary than inclusive. As with the Wizard and the Grimmerie, this country is run by weak, stupid, mediocre men who are either unable to read the Constitution, or they can but just do not feel inclined to actually follow and respect it in letter and spirit. The only truly good, fair and just thing for a long while was the "self-governing" nature of the populace's participation in democracy and the self-corrections that would be made from it... but that ended up exploited in order to become the very thing that sealed its damnation. My nation was never evil, but at the same time, it has never been great, as it's so often failed to do good. It's a nation of moral goodness in perpetual bondage by the not-so-good that wants to exploit all the good it's capable of for them and their interests alone. "Land of the Free and Home of the Brave?" Sure, but only because the Free and the Brave who've lived here are all far better than it deserves.

And then we reach "Defying Gravity." I always linked the title of this song to Elphaba taking flight on her broomstick. But only now do I grasp the full meaning of that title, and the weight the term holds in its proper context. Elphaba is making a choice to defy Oz. To rebel against a corrupt system by a corrupt government that is corrupting the land and harming vulnerable others. She makes this choice even when what she's rebelling against holds the advantage in all power sans magical and possesses the resources and means to turn the ignorant masses against her and ensure they remain on their side. From the offset, she is very unlikely to prevail. That's why it's like struggling against a greater force that is trying to push you down and can normally easily do so - a force like gravity. And yet Elphie fights. She defies. She does so even if it means she has to make herself look like a villain, reasoning that even if her enemy is great and powerful, and the odds of defeating it seem impossible, it's not more powerful than her skills, her gifts, her convictions and her willpower. And so long as she has those, it can and will never bring her down.

I'd say the lesson here is "domestic terrorism in defiance of your government is good, actually", but it's a little bit more complicated.

So yeah, Wicked Part 1 is a masterpiece and Elphaba Thropp is an inspiration. If what she does is "wicked", then let us all aspire to be as wicked as her as the fight to rejuvinate the soul of our decayed republic and lay claim to a better future for all people in it goes on.