#Unsinged

[booksandpaperss]

when you find a hidden gem fic w under 500 hits that is so fucking insane and understands the characters and media better than anything else you’ve read and literally feels like an extension of canon. and u are so distressed that it’s not considered a fandom classic

[nunsonthemoon]

You guys, please support small artists. Don't just listen to them on Spotify. I hate to say this and I'm 100% not wanting to come off as rude when I say this, but it's not enough.

You need to be buying merch and if you can't afford it/already have it then SHARE. promote the bands, if you can get even one person to listen to them then do it.

I won't say which one but I was talking to a member of one of the bands I try to promote on this blog this morning. He was talking about how he feels burnt out with trying to release a song at least once a month or doing a stupid meme video to try and stay in the public eye. And how Spotify fucking sucks for small artists. Please go see small bands, their shows are cheap or free anyway. Buy merch, not just at shows but from their websites too if you can't make the shows. Buy PHYSICAL records.

I can't stress enough how many artists give up or feel like giving up because this black hole we call social media eats them alive. Please don't stop listening to them just because they aren't posting daily. They're people too.

[lyledebeast]

Gabriel Byrne plays such a sweet, loving father in Hereditary (2018).

And look where it gets him!

[vvatchword]

A Weird Old Song My Mom Taught Me

A frog am a queer little bird He ain’t got no tail almost hardly He runs and he jumps When he jumps he sits down On the place where he ain’t got no tail almost hardly

[pandabibble]

I don't know why people are acting like this is an unknowable question: a copy of undertale now goes into the vatican's secret papal library, where it will one day lead to some Toriel focused marionite heresy when it is rediscovered by some future researcher after everyone else has forgotten it

[mead1992]

the unsinging angel

[ohfairandflightylove]

if i went to a destruction room i think id start by breaking a ton of glass and end by ugly sobbing and try to piece the fragments back together

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Sleepover

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: Bucky sleeps over.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Should be good as new,” Bucky sits back on the footstool and rubs his neck. “Don’t know about me, though.” 

You lean on the counter with a sheepish smile, “I told you, I’d call the landlord.” 

“Uh huh? And try to light this thing in the meantime? You’d set yourself on fire,” he closes the over door and stands. “I like you unsinged, dreamy.” 

“I have a microwave,” you roll your eyes. 

“Oh, you mean the one that sparks and sounds like military tank?” He challenges as he packs up his toolbox. 

“It makes the food hot,” you rebuff. 

“Uh huh. Maybe the radiation is getting to ya,” he teases as he puts the box on the counter. 

He stretches his arms and as he brings them down, he yawns, covering his mouth. He turns his other wrist to check the time. 

“God, it’s late,” he says. 

“Is it--” you choke on your words as you see the time on the stove. “Oh gosh, Buckyyy.” You whine. “You shouldn’t have stayed so long.” 

“And let you burn this place down? You’re going to give me flashbacks. God, I think it was... 1938. Steve was living with his ma still, taking care of her, and he left some newspapers by the stove...” 

“1938...” you echo. “Right, I’m not going to say it.” 

“You better not,” he pokes you in the ribs playfully. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t waste any more of your time. You know, I’ll be just fine walking through the dark. I might get overtime pay if I can wrangle in some hoodlums--” 

“Oh, stop,” you huff, “I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow. I know the couch is a bit small.” 

“Ah, doll, you don’t gotta--” 

“God, you sound like such an old man. ‘Doll, you want a lozenge?’” You mock as you throw your hands up. “Can’t anyone do something nice for you?” 

“What? What do you mean? I’m joshing ya,” he follows you as you spin and march out of the kitchen. 

“Sure, I know. Always a joke with you.” 

“What is this about? The date?” He asks. 

“Well... I thought you’d be more excited,” you shrug. “I was really excited for you. Now I feel like I’m forcing you.” 

“You kinda are,” he leans again the wall as you open the closet, the door blocking him from your view. 

“Forcing you to go out with a sophisticated, gorgeous, woman? I know, it’s torture.” 

“Trust me, I know what torture is. It’s not a joke,” he crosses his arms. You blanch. 

“I-- sorry, I didn’t mean--” you stutter as you kick the door shut. 

He laughs, “got ya again.” He taps the end of your nose then takes the blanket from you. “Relax, I said yes. I’ll put on a tie and comb my hair. Look human.” 

“Awesome,” you smile and he squints. 

“Mm, and you always do that,” he accuses. “Those puppy dog eyes.” 

“I’m more of a cat person,” you giggle. “There’s a pillow on the back of the couch and—oh, want a hot chocolate. I usually have one before bed.” 

“Hot chocolate?” He repeats as he goes to the couch and drops the blanket on top. 

“Sure! I got the oreo stuff.” 

“Nah, I’m good,” he sits and rolls his shoulder. 

“Well, you snooze, you lose. More for me,” you tilt your head and skip back into the kitchen. You flip the kettle on and sweep back into the living room. 

“What about you?” Bucky asks before you can leave him. “You still coming? You find someone?” 

“Oh, I’ll be there but I’m still looking for a date,” you say. “Don’t worry, I got a few ideas.” 

“Right, lined up the block, huh?” 

You stick your tongue out and flit into the bedroom, “whatever.” 

You close the door behind you and change into your pajamas. The fluffy pink shorts go perfectly with the tee with the bunny on the front. You step into your slippers and go back out. 

As you come out, Bucky pushes his hair back and groans. He has his shirt off as he sits back and pushes his arms wide. He cracks his neck again as your eyes meet. 

“Last call for hot chocolate?” You offer. 

“No thanks,” he says as he leans forward. 

You smile and scurry into the kitchen. The tension rises with the steam of the kettle. You weren’t expecting to see him like that. Well, it’s just his chest and his abs. Abs? He has abs. Holy moly.  

You look down and poke your pudge. Maybe he can give you some tips. You peel back the lid from the canister of chocolate powder; a start would be cutting down on the sweets. 

The hardwood shifts and his footsteps circles around to the kitchen door. You glance over as you spoon the mix into a mug. You put the lid back on and shove the can back into the cupboard. 

“Water?” He asks. 

“Sure, fridge,” you point. 

The kettle clicks and you take it of its heater. You pour and glance over as Bucky pulls open the fridge. He bends to search the mostly bare shelves. You’re overdue for a shop. 

“The jug should be--” the water laps over the side of the mug and hits your fingers. “Ow! Ayeee!” 

You slam the kettle down and shake your hand. Bucky’s so fast, you squeal as he grabs you and spins you to face the sink. He flips the cold water on and shoves your hand under the flow. You whine again at the frigid splash. 

“Ah, Bucky, I’m fine. It’s just a little water,” you tug but he keeps a hold of you. 

“I told you to be careful,” he huffs. “You should pay attention.” 

“I was trying to help,” you say. 

“And I’m tryna help you stay outta trouble,” he reproaches. 

“I’m okay. Really, it’s nothing.” You shut off the tap and wriggle free of his grasp. “See?” 

The burn stings but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You’re more affected by his suddenness. You can feel his hard strength throbbing in your wrist. If he didn’t want to let go, he wouldn’t have to. That thought needles behind your ears. 

He drops his shoulders, “sorry, dream. Really. I was just... you scared me, you know? I hear ya make those noises and I get a bit... uptight.” 

You exhale and give a small smile, “no, I... appreciate it. I mean, you can’t turn hero mode off, can ya?” 

He chuckles and the air thins, “yeah. Guess that’s what you can call it.” 

[nyxi-pixie]

The only difference between a ghost and a memory is that a memory decays. A ghost, by nature of its unnature, is immune to rot and instead exists in stasis. Such an idea could only exist in fiction. Fiction kinder than any Dazai could imagine himself living.

Or, a study in haunting, and the long shadow of loss turned biting.

(or, the one in which skk get themselves into yet another insane situation, this time involving the faces of people who have been dead for years.)

for @booksandpaperss

[altocat]

in honour of my anxiety heres how i think agszc would react to being left on read

Angeal: hed be a little disappointed but he'd understand that youve got your own thing going on.

Sephiroth: will probably try to find u irl (if u work at shinra) to make sure ur ok cause if hes texting YOU then youre a friend and he looks out for his friends

Genesis: crashes out completely what do you MEAN you cant scrape together 2 minutes to answer his 200 word message after you already opened it???? the hell is wrong with you?????? be lucky if you escape with unsinged hair

Zack: ppl who are scared of double texting fear this man. he WILL continue texting u after getting left on read. honestly not even sure he noticed getting left on read

Cloud: is the one leaving ppl on read. you simply do not beat him at his own game

These are incredibly accurate. You understand these idiots perfectly 👏👏👏👏

[nunsonthemoon]

Upcoming pop punk nites! Start the nite off with some of the best up and coming bands in the scene and end it with covers of all your favorite pop punk and emo hits!!

Song recs

[lanafofana]

it was the night before christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring.... not even a little mouse.

After being read the mysterious little note vanished in a flash of fire. Lanatav frowned, the pads of her fingers that had been holding the note together were unsinged and she rubbed them together contemplatively. 

The hour was late and the room was dark and still. 

“Raphael?” She asked the silent room suspiciously. When no answer was forthcoming she relaxed a little, leaning back in her bed against the soft pillows and turning the puzzle of the note over in her mind. 

On the one hand the fiend was known for sending notes or summons at any hour of the day but they were usually much more direct. Like yanking her out of bed, pajamas and all, directly into whatever hole-in-the-dirt in Faerun he was currently lurking. 

But on the other hand he was also somewhat a slave to his own ridiculously theatrical whims. So. 

Lanatav pressed her lips together in thought before flinging aside her warm cozy duvet and sliding out of her bed and into her robe and slippers. 

The winter had been particularly brutal this year and even with all the luxury afforded a hero of Baldur's Gate nothing could seem to keep the chill out for long. With a flick of her wrist the wood in her fireplace blazed to life but the color pulled the corners of her mouth down.

It wasn't the fire of a sorcerer nor the merry flames of a wizard spell. Before her eyes the fire of the hells ate away her logs until, moments later, there was nothing but ashes. And still the fire burned merrily with nothing to keep it going. 

“What in the sweet hells?” Lanatav prodded the bright flames with her poker but all she achieved was melted iron. As close as she was to the fire, something even more curious about it was how–though it was clearly hot enough to burn and melt things– she felt no warmth from its flames. 

Considering the wisdom of her decisions had never really been a strong suit of hers so without further preamble Lanatav yanked up the sleeve of her robe and stuck her bare arm into the deepest part of the fire. 

She felt neither the tickle of flame nor the crackling of roasting flesh. When she pulled her arm back out it was just the same as it had always been. She huffed. Had she been the one to summon the hellfire? She stared at her hand doubtfully and snapped her fingers, startled when hellfire erupted from them instantly. She waved it away, repeating the cycle several times before she stopped long enough to softly beat her fist against her forehead in thought. 

She'd almost worked herself up enough into digging out her chalk and either summoning the devil directly or creating a portal on her kitchen floor and marching into his boudoire to demand answers for whatever it was he’d done when something heavy landed on her roof. 

“Oh what now,” she grumbled, cinching her robe closed tightly and donning a thick woolen cloak. Her fingers glowed with hellfire. 

Outside the snow was falling thick and heavy. In moments her cloak was covered in fat flakes that sparkled in the light spilling out from her still open door.

Through the snow she trudged, turning to look at her roof uneasily when she was at a distance to see better. Alas the night was too dark and the snow was too thick. Whatever had landed on her roof was well hidden from sight. 

“If you're an intruder I’d really rather you fucked off,” she called out, grimacing at the idea of using hellfire on someone. “If you're a creature uh,” she considered. “I might have some dried meat but you’ll have to get down before you destroy my shingles.” 

Something massive shifted in the air and moved. She felt it land behind her and, blood pumping in anticipation of a fight, Lanatav tried to whirl in place. Catching her heel on a patch of ice and feeling her feet go out from under her just seemed par for the course for how her evening was unraveling. She slammed her eyes shut and waited to be attacked or devoured or the wind to get knocked out of her as she hit the ground. None of which occurred and to her amazement she opened her eyes to find a pair of brimstone gold irises staring down at her, bemused. 

She smacked him. 

Raphael dropped her in the snow. 

“What was that for?” He demanded, looking thunderously unamused. 

Struggling to pull herself out of the snow Lanatav swore and thrust a hand towards him, wreathed in hellfire. “What did you do to me?” 

The cambion sniffed. “I gave you hellfire you ungrateful little creature!” 

“I didn't ask for hellfire,” she struggled to come up with an appropriate epithet. “Stupid!” 

He laughed, a sneering hollow sound that had sent lesser people into nervous breakdowns. 

Lanatav threw a handful of snow at him. 

It hit him square in the face. 

They both froze and then, when he spat water out of his mouth, she snorted. The snort turned into a giggle and then, while he furiously wiped white powdery snow from his face and his fine doublet, she began to howl with laughter. 

With one massive clawed hand the devil fished Lanatav out of the snow and hauled her over his shoulder. 

“How dare you!” She beat her fists against his back as a show of contrariness more than actual ire. It had to be said, the warmth radiating from his body felt marvelous after her spill in the snow. And if he noticed how she gave up hitting him and instead put her hands against his wings he said nothing, merely pushing through her ajar front door and shutting it with a snap of his fingers. 

He didn't quite dump her on the floor like he had out in the snow but only if one were to take a very generous view of the action. 

Peeling off her snow laden cloak, Lanatav remembered why she was annoyed. “I can't have hellfire, Raphael, you made me immune to its heat! It eats all my firewood and I’m left frozen solid!” She stomped over to her fireplace to find her poker and brandish the melted end at him. “Just look what it's done to my fire poker!” 

With two fingers he brushed away the offending object being waved in his face. “Anyone else would kill for the kind of power you so brazenly disregard,” he said reproachfully. 

“I don't want power, you overgrown bat!” 

Raphael scoffed. “Well then what do you want, you insipid little mouse?” 

“A warm house!” Lanatav had barely finished snarling the words when, with a snap, she was transported in a flash of light. When she blinked she stared at her surroundings a beat before rounding on the devil with another sharp word on the tip of her tongue. 

It died at the view of Raphael, Archduke Supreme of the Hells, Exalted Demon of the Unending Night, Conquerer of All Worlds, He Who Wears and Wields the Crown of Karsus, Lord of Misfortune standing rather awkwardly next to a…

“Is that a Christmas tree?” 

For a very long moment nobody said anything. Raphael was still staring down his aristocratic nose at her like she was a particularly unpleasant bug he’d scraped off his shoes. She was still drinking in the sight of an honest to god Christmas tree in the hells. A lush evergreen, decorated with baubles and enchanting lights that flickered and blinked merrily. A Christmas tree in the Hells. Truly the mind boggled. 

Then the Archduke Supreme of the Hells, Exalted Demon of the Unending Night, Conqueror of All Worlds, He Who Wears and Wields the Crown of Karsus, Lord of Misfortune shifted on his feet. His tail swished. He frowned at her. 

“Did you do all this for me?” Raphael blinked at her tone. His arms had been crossed but he dropped them, relaxing out of his defensive pose but with his sneer still in full force across his face. 

“Well I didn't do it for me,” he growls. 

Something suspiciously like affection stings her nose and her eyes. “You got me a Christmas tree and gave me a Christmas present.” 

Raphael watches her warily as she approaches, paying particular attention to the slap distance of her hands to his face. 

“You got me a Christmas present and a Christmas tree.” 

His wary expression is exchanged for narrowed eyes. He cocks his head to the side. “If that’s all you're going to keep saying I might as well send you back. If I wanted someone to parrot the same dull phrases at me I could have just retrieved Haarlep from whatever den of iniquity they've no doubt been squandering their time in.” 

Lanatav touches his arm lightly and gives him a crooked smile. 

“Thank you, Raphael.” 

He exhales through his nose. He looks away. His tail swishes. 

“I will amend your command of the hellfire,” he eventually mutters. 

She laughs lightly and squeezes his forearm in thanks. 

Lanatav moves away from the cambion, abandoning her slippers and uncinching her robe as she takes in the sight of the beautiful tree. The heat of hells is tempered in his palace but she still finds herself growing overly warm in her thickest nightclothes. 

When she’s close enough to touch it she reaches out a finger to tap at a delicate ornament, shiny as a tempting apple. A flicker of light draws her attention. 

“These lights are quite impressive, however did you manage to–oh!” She jerked in alarm. “Raphael!” She screeched. “You release these pixies AT ONCE!” 

[tumbleweed-run]

In the Light of Day

Kinktober 2023 Day 31 Free for all

“Are you sure this is how you want to fully test this?” Tav sounds as nervous as Astarion feels. 

Astarion does a much better job of hiding his nerves, though. He looks down at the gold band on his finger, glinting in the light as he flexes his hand. “It’s not like we don’t know it works,” he reasons.

“Yes, but that was through the windows. Maybe it doesn’t work as well in direct sunlight,” Tav looks nearly panicked. 

Astarion can’t have them both stressed, so he steps into her space and grabs her arms. “Pet,” he says sharply, and her mouth slams shut, “we know it works.”

They do. He’s spent the better part of the last three days standing in front of uncovered windows in the tower, unsinged. He just hadn’t been bold enough to step outside just yet. The memory of that day on the docks in Baldur’s Gate lingers like a bad taste in the back of his mouth. Every time he’d considered even stepping out onto the terrace Gale loves so much he would feel dizzy. But he can’t bear keeping himself locked up any longer. Astarion decided today would be the day he was going out. 

His hand hesitates on the door despite all his reassurances to Tav. 

Just because Astarion believes the ring and its protection works doesn’t mean he didn’t take precautions. His face is truly the only part of his skin exposed. Should something go wrong, it would be easy enough to flip up his hood for protection until he was safely back inside. When he finally brings himself to push open the door and walk out into the street, he’s easily the most overdressed person out there. 

His eyes slide shut as the full force of the sun beats down on him, and he waits. Nothing happens. Tav breathes a sigh of relief next to him. 

“See,” Astarion turns his head towards her, eyes opening, “it works fine out here, too.”

Tav nods, a small smile finally breaking out across her lips. “Thank the gods,” she breathes.

“Let’s keep that sentiment to ourselves,” he says with a wry smile, “lest our wizard get any more ideas.”

She laughs and grabs his hand, “we should get going if we’re going to find him by noon.”

Gale had disappeared not long after sunrise. He’d left them a map to somewhere outside of the city and told them to be at that spot by noon. Astarion wondered if the air of intrigue was to act as a further lure to get him out of the tower for the first time. He wasn’t about to tell the other man that it worked. 

As they traveled towards their secret destination, it was clear that this was turning out to be the first summerlike day they’d experienced since winter had slunk off. Astarion was a fan of the heat, his body rarely feeling this kind of warmth, but even he’d taken the cloak off by the time they’d reached the city gate. There were beads of sweat along the back of Tav’s neck that Astarion spent most of their journey distracted by. 

It wasn’t hard to follow Gale’s directions, which led them to a small clearing in a wood not too far south of the city. The wizard was sitting, leaning up against the trunk of a tree with a book in hand as they approached. 

“I was beginning to wonder if I’d be eating alone,” Gale announced when they got to the edge of the clearing. 

“Please,” Astarion sniffed, “we’re not even late.”

Gale stood and approached them. If Astarion had need for breath, his would have caught when the damn wizard stepped out of the shade. He’d forgotten how the man looked in the sun, and this was even worse. Perhaps without the orb eating him alive, the man appeared even more golden than he had while they traveled. Gale looked radiant with the sun, its rays highlighting both the silver and honey-gold strands of his hair. He would have made a glorious god if their paths had turned that way. Not that Astarion would ever reveal that thought to anyone. 

“I’m starved,” Tav announces, pulling Astarion from his thoughts. 

Gale grins, “well then, you are quite lucky to know a wizard both talented with magic and food. It’s all being kept fresh with ice.”

They sat on a blanket in the sun, eating far too much food. Gale had been prepared for an army, it seemed. There was even a bottle filled with blood for Astarion, but he took small bites of everything. It was something he often did to feel included in mealtimes. At home, he’d sit with his goblet of blood, the origins of which he’d never gotten around to asking about, and taste a little of everything Gale and Tav ate. The food would never satiate his hunger. Sometimes, it seemed to make it worse, but he’d found he enjoyed eating in the company of others. 

Once he’d grown bored of food, long before the other two did, Astarion laid back on the blanket, basking in the sun. It felt different from when he’d had the tadpole. He saw the sun's lights and was able to revel in its warmth, but something was missing. Likely whatever it was that the ring was protecting him from, an invisible shield along his skin. He could live with that, a tiny missing piece, in return for the joys of being a daywalker once more. 

“You are a filthy romantic,” he announces suddenly, turning to level his gaze at Gale.

Gale pauses midchew of something with an eyebrow raised. 

“A picnic in the woods,” Astarion clarifies, earning him an eye roll from the wizard. 

Tav leans over him, blocking the sun from his face. “You’re enjoying it, though.”

Astarion doesn’t answer except to pull her down to him. She ends up lying across his chest, and he feels her stiffen for a moment. He knows why, they all do, but he won't allow it to ruin their day. So instead, he turns to his side so Tav’s lying next to him pulled tight against his body. She smells like the sun and her hair is warm to the touch. He buries his face in her neck and inhales. 

She laughs, “I thought you were full.”

“I have no plans to eat you,” Astarion assures her even as he lets his fangs scrape across her skin, no doubt also tangling in her hair. 

Tav shivers. 

“Unless you wish me to,” he adds, hooking one leg over the top of hers and pulling her even closer. Tav squirms a little, no doubt feeling the stirring of his cock against her thighs. 

Behind her, Gale clears his throat. 

“I think the wizard is jealous,” Astarion says loud enough for the other man to hear. 

“I think,” Gale says with a touch of indignity, “that the wizard wants to remind you he is also here.”

Tav giggles but pushes against him to roll away. Astarion lets her. He watches as she crawls over to Gale, sitting in his lap before pressing a kiss against the wizard’s lips. Gale pulls her closer until she’s straddling his waist, deepening the kiss. He reaches down to grasp his cock through his pants as Tav starts rocking against Gale. 

Astarion lazily palms himself as he half watches them. His eyes slip shut after a moment, and he turns his head back to the sun, enjoying the way the rays beat white against his eyelids. He groans as he hears sweet little sounds escaping Tav’s lips, still muffled against Gale’s. He’s torn between wanting to join them and laying like this in the sun. 

It’s a soft, slick sound that makes up his mind for him. Turning again, he sees that Gale has worked Tav’s pants down under her ass, and his hand has disappeared between them. Astarion watches the pale swell of flesh roll, no doubt in response to fingers buried within her, and is overwhelmed with the desire to bite her there, hard enough she’ll scar. While it’s unlikely Tav will tell him no, he swallows that down for another moment. Right now, he’s going to commit the way they look in the sunlight to memory. He hopes to see them like this a million more times, but he needs to remember today.

“Astarion,” Tav calls to him, voice inching near a whine.

He grins, rises up onto his knees, and moves to her. Once his front is flush against her back, Astarion trails a kiss against her neck. “Is the wizard not enough for you, darling,” he teases. 

Tav cries out. No doubt Gale has retaliated with his fingers to the barb. Astarion grins. 

“You’re insufferable,” Gale tells him almost casually despite what he continues to do to Tav. 

Astarion grins at the man over Tav’s shoulder. “But you love me that way,” it’s half a statement, half a challenge. 

Gale sighs. “Of course I do,” he sounds resigned to the fact. 

There’s a swell of giddiness in Astarion’s chest at the wizard’s affirmation. It seems to grow larger in the light until he can no longer repress the certainly appalling grin that’s broken across his face. Gale returns the look with a stupidly brilliant smile, one so bright that Astarion reburries his face into Tav’s neck.

He reaches around the front of Tav until his hand finds where Gale’s fingers are slowly moving in and out of her cunt. Astarion rubs gently against her clit until she’s whimpering, hips chasing after both of their touches in stuttered movements. 

“You make such pretty sounds,” he purrs against Tav’s skin. He feels, rather than sees, her skin grow hotter with a flush. 

Astarion allows his fingers to drop lower, and slowly he presses one into her, sliding it between the two fingers Gale is using. He allows the wizard to control the way they move, his position too awkward to take control. Tav moans and her thighs spread almost impossibly wider in an effort to accommodate the three fingers now inside of her. Astarion can feel her cunt growing wetter with each second. No longer is it just his fingers coated but a good part of his hand as well. 

When he pulls his hand away from her, Tav whimpers but it’s quickly swallowed by a moan. Astarion had little doubt the wizard has replaced his finger with another of his own. Astarion holds out his hand to Gale, who leans forward just enough so he can like a stripe up his palm. He grinds his cock against Tav’s ass as Gale eagerly cleans her from Astarion’s hand. Before he finishes, Gale presses a soft kiss against the golden band.

He grips onto Tav’s hips and lifts her slightly, away from Gale’s fingers. “Let’s take these off,” he says as an explanation. Gale is the one who ends up pulling them down completely. Tav just barely helps by moving her legs. Astarion scrapes his teeth against her neck in retribution before moving back off of Gale, standing. 

Gale quickly flips them so that Tav is pinned beneath him on the blanket, her head resting just before Astarion’s feet. She grins up at him and asks, “Are you fucking me?”

Astarion shakes his head, “I thought we were rewarding the wizard’s brilliance? Let’s let him have you today.”

Gale doesn’t need to be told anything further and makes short work of his own pants before dropping down to hover back over Tav. Astarion circles around behind them but stays standing until Gale’s pressing into Tav. Her eyes roll back and then close, which is when Astarion finally drops to his knees. 

He holds only Gale’s hips as the man begins lazily thrusting into Tav. After a moment, he moves his hold until he gripping the wizard’s ass, pulling him apart lightly. Gale’s rhythm suffers just a little when Astarion does this. He grins to himself about this. Then, without so much as a whisper of warning, Astarion leans down and presses his tongue against the ring of muscle. 

“Ah,” Gale yelps in surprise. He would have collapsed forward if it weren't for Astarion holding him in place. 

“No?” He asks, allowing the breath of his words to ghost across the flesh. 

“Just surprised,” Gale clarifies with barely enough time before Astarion returns to what he’d been doing. 

The wizard tries valiantly to keep thrusting into Tav, but around the time Astarion presses his tongue just inside, he all but freezes. Astarion allows himself to be sloppy as he fucks Gale with his tongue, the wizard doesn’t seem to mind judging from his moans and the way his hips try and push back against him. Astarion keeps him held in place. 

“Astarion, if I can’t watch, could I at least get fucked?” Tav asks in a voice Astarion knows is accompanied by a pout. 

“Fine,” Astarion relents and sits up. He quickly undoes the ties of his own pants and shoves them down just below his cock. 

“Are you coherent enough?” He teases, leaning forward so his hand is probably within Gale’s eyesight. 

The words are muttered spitefully, and the oil appears, even if it’s a little more than usual. Astarion quickly slicks it against his cock before swiping the excess down the cleft of Gale’s ass. He presses in with little warning, moving slow, yet relentlessly until he bottoms out. It takes a few shallow thrusts into the wizard before he begins moving again. Tav sighs happily on the ground, one leg raising up until Astarion takes hold of it, allowing Gale to thrust into her deeper. 

It’s not quick or frenzied as they fuck. Gale’s hips are rolling languidly, forward into Tav and then back against Astarion. The only noises for a while are each of their pants and the sound of the trees rustling overhead with a breeze that doesn’t reach them. Astarion allows his eyes to slide shut, again tilting his head towards the sun. It feels like his whole body is glowing in the light, the warmth growing low in his belly, each thrust of his hips making him grow brighter. This is something he’s never experienced and something he swears he will a hundred times more. 

Astarion’s orgasm takes him by surprise. His body folds over Gale as he comes, hips pinning the other man motionless again. Gale doesn’t complain, only grinds back against Astarion. Astarion pulls out of the wizard but keeps his face buried against his back. It’s not terribly comfortable as Gale begins to move, his own hand holding up Tav’s leg now, but Astarion remains anyway. He reaches around and lazily swipes his thumb against Tav’s clit until she cries out, thighs clamping tightly against Gale. The wizard comes not long after. Astarion feels the other man’s release roll through the muscles of his back. 

“You seem happy,” Tav says tentatively a few moments later as they’re lying side by side on the picnic blanket.

Astarion opens his eyes and looks over at her, and then at Gale, who’s resting his head on her stomach. 

“I am,” he says truthfully. 

[mattastr0phic]

Myriads forms are all so cool! Who exactly are Pyro and endurance :0

The Pyro, recorded from Newt Silas (she/her) was a form recorded in Myriad's field researcher days, during which he was assigned to study the entities developed by Newt's explosions as they appeared to behave without clear reason, not even consistently by Newt's command. While he wasn't there to study her, Myriad was allowed limited access to her for interviews regarding the entities, as they were just about as unknown to her, and she wanted answers. During these interviews, Myriad and Newt would strike up a friendship, seeing that she was actually interested in his ramblings about animal comparisons to the entities that followed her. Newt herself always had an interest in animal documentaries, and would listen to them during her mechanic work before the Foundation. Confiding in Myriad about her life would prove to be the only way that either of them would realize the truth about the entities' behavior. Unfortunately, once classified as a reality bender, Newt soon went under evaluation for "neutralization". Alerted to this by the whispers of her containment supervisors, she panicked. Suddenly, with no previous history of outbursts, she threw in her last resort - biting off one of her fingers, and detonating it. Myriad would survive the explosion, she knew he would, but not unsinged. He wouldn't realize that the pouch for his amulet was burned away until he collided with Newt in the hall while searching for her, and it was over. The Pyro is a rough subject for Myriad, having lost a friend in something completely preventable, something he has to revisit every time he uses her shape. Even as her powers remained limited to remote detonation, the form is useful in many combat situations, and pulled as a careful card. The incident is even more of a sore subject between Myriad and Clef.

The Endurance, recorded from Dr. Melanie Hart (she/they) was another form recorded during a containment breach. Melanie was previously assigned to study SCP-035, as their anomaly provided some resistance to its effects without a host. Myriad was just in the area when the breach occurred, and attempted to escort Dr. Hart to a safer location, but she'd end up caught by one of the entities, grasping at any part of Myriad in their terror, and ripping off 963 in the process.

Dr. Myriad is haunted by those he could not save, but memorializes them the best she can. These forms are only used upon high-requirement circumstances, and he tries to carry out their last wishes as they'd want them, but it won't be the same. She isn't them. All she can do is remember for them.

[johnny-depplyloveyou]

Gale's data mined info from Idle Champions

source: [X]

(He's only 35? And his alignment is Neutral, not Neutral Good to begin with? I know it can be changed into Neutral Good in this game, but... I'll pretend I did not see it)

Item descriptions

Fond Memories: Even at my lowest, playing with Tara lifted my spirits...

Ball of Retrieval: ...though the ball's purpose eluded her. I was always the one fetching it...

Cat Flap of Displacement: Tara comes and goes as she pleases. But she's always pleased to help me.

Ring of Evasion: A ring as evasive as Tara, when I asked how she obtained it...

These Old Things: Comfortable, practical, and relatively unsinged.

Wizarding Robes: Not as flashy as Elminster's, but at least they've plenty of pockets.

Robes of Increased Potency: I could get used to these. Elegant, but powerful - just like Tara.

Archmage's Accoutrements: Incredible! Every stitch is infused with Weave. Like wearing magic itself...

Nothing Much: I'd have preferred something with a library...

Camping Tent: ...but it will do. For now.

Crystal Ball: Handy for glimpsing the future. And also shaving.

Celestial Spyglass: I like gazing at the heavens. To remember. And to forget...

Crumpled Chapbooks: At least they're written in full sentences.

Well-thumbed Tomes: I've lost count of how many times I've read these. Still just as magical.

Magical Miscellany: A spell for all situations. And my improvements in the margins.

The Annals of Karsus: You can trust me with this - you have my word.

Boots of Ambiguous Enchantment: A little pick-me-up, for when any Weave will do...

Lonely Boot of Elvenkind: A snack-sized shoe for the wizard who travels light.

Boots of Very Fast Blinking: Blink and you'll miss me. But I'll always hit you.

Mystra's Grace: These were a gift from... well, never mind.

Cramped Jotter: Magical musings and mullings. Not my best handwriting.

Waterdhavian Quill: This was... well, it was expensive, let's leave it at that.

The Chosen's Earring: A symbol of Mystra's faith in me. Former faith, I suppose...

Wizard's Pouch: All manner of wizarding sundries. Pungent but powerful.

Feat descriptions

Selflessness (Gale): If it’s me or the realms - I’ll save the realms every time.

Inspiring Leader (Gale): Their magic is strong, but our will is stronger!

Long Studies (Gale): It’s not as easy for me as a sorcerer or warlock. No offense, Wyll.

Arcane Experience (Gale): I’ve had experiences that other wizards can only dream of.

Arcane Threads (Gale): You can’t manipulate the entire Weave, merely a small piece of it.

Spools of Magic (Gale): Maybe I was wrong, as rare of an event as that is. This power is strong!

Mage of Waterdeep (Gale): It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Gale of Waterdeep!

Sword Coast Sage (Gale): One day, my name will be known up and down the Sword Coast!

Netherese Teachings (Gale): These are certainly things Elminster wouldn’t have taught me…

Netherese Knowledge (Gale): The risk is worth the reward. This could be just what we need to save everyone!

Neutral Good (Gale): My mind can be changed. …Sometimes.

Immolation (Gale): Magic can be elegant, but sometimes, a good fireball is the answer.

[christinaroseandrews]

A lot of people are talking about how Disney didn't get nominated for their flagship 100th animated feature, Wish. Which is a big deal, I am not disputing that. This was a stellar year for animation and the academy had a glut of good options that did not include Wish. (I would have liked makoto shinkai's Suzume to be nominated but...)

But I want to talk about something else that is probably sticking in Disney's craw.

None of their Animated movies, in particular Wish, were nominated for "best original song."

Starting in 1940 with "when you Wish upon a Star", Disney's animated features could be counted upon to receive a nomination for best original song often winning the Honor. This includes movies such as Bambi; Saludos Amigos; Cinderella, and that racist mess that Disney would like you to forget, Song of the South. Even during the years after Walt's death a bunch of songs were nominated from things like Pete's Dragon and The Rescuers. But it wasn't until The Little Mermaid and the animation Renaissance that Disney's almost stranglehold and expectation that they're animated films would get nominated for an Oscar for best song really came into the forefront.

Take a walk through the best song nominations from 1989 to now and pretty much the majority of Disney and/or Pixar movies put out in those years has a best song nomination. There are a few exceptions, there always are, but generally when Disney includes original songs in its Animated properties it gets nominated.

That makes this year so odd. Disney technically has a nomination with Diane Warren's song for Flamin' Hot, which I suspect has more to do with the fact that the academy loves to nominate Diane Warren and then never give her the Oscar. ~_^ The big thing I noticed was that there were no nominations for Wish or even Elemental. And even more crucially, there was no one setting up a hue or cry that these movies (particularly Wish) didn't get nominated for best song.

Wish had all of the ingredients to be both an Oscar Bait for best animated feature and best original song. And the academy ignored it.

And frankly, I think this is 100% deserved. Wish was an okay movie. It wasn't good it wasn't bad it was just okay. And it's songs were forgettable.

Worse than that, in my opinion, they were unsingable. And what I mean by that is the songs were so complex so lyrically and musically difficult that a four-year-old in a princess dress would struggle to sing them. There were too many jumps and the lyrics were incredibly tongue twisty and they even sounded difficult for an accomplished singer like Ariana DeBose to sing. Seriously, the chorus of This Wish has so many jumps and drops that it is almost impossible to stay on key and also follow the melody. The music is just there.

When I walked out of the theater, I couldn't remember any of the songs. I still can't. And as most of my friends can tell you I have a bloody musical memory. I remember songs.

The first time I saw Barbie, I had three of the songs (What was I made for, I'm just Ken, and Pink) wrestling for dominance over who was going to be my earworm for the day. The same thing was true with Frozen, Moana, Encanto, beauty and the Beast, and even Tarzan. I still can't remember the music from Wish at all. To even write this, I had to go on YouTube and listen to the songs. And after listening to them, I still can't sing them. But just typing "I'm just Ken" has put that song in my head.

So rather than just celebrating Wish being excluded in a very good year for animation (it was so good, y'all) we should also be laughing and pointing that the Disney's attempts at getting a best song nomination for that movie also went unheeded.

Because I sure am.