#yellow eye orin...

[scriv3lloirl]

I love ur butch Orin so much oh myyh 🐌💕

Ayy, Thank you! Butch Orin is really fun t' draw.

[vinegar-rights]

Every lsoh character has brown eyes in my mind. No one has demonic blue eyes bc i cannot be bothered to draw that

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: Overnight honkers, Vampire flu, and non-canonical threesomes.

A quick ask compilation I put together. Thank you all so much for your well wishes to both me and my partner during the recovery/break so far!

Hello!

Well, kind of. If he happened upon any other Bhaalspawn he would immediately attempt to kill them regardless of race, unless explicitly instructed to do otherwise by Sarevok or Bhaal himself.

As a Bhaalist (both prior to the campaign and in the case of a bad end) he wouldn't want any competition - especially after Orin's betrayal. In his "canon" state where he denies Bhaal, he would antagonize them for the obvious reasons - and not really believe that they are able to control themselves like he did - but perhaps he wouldn't not be AS gung-ho about murdering them on-site, though he would believe that to be the right thing to do.

Special circumstances could definitely arise! But that's the most straight-forward answer.

To be clear, DU drow just isn't into very "butch" people and generally prefers aesthetics and behavior most commonly associated with femininity and high society; being poise, dressing elegantly, practicing grooming, softer features, less body hair, etc - that just so happens to more often be the women of the races that he is exposed to the most, but he also comes across plenty of high elves, where there is less of a distinction between genders. In those cases his preference is pretty much totally neutral.

Which is to say, he does not care more for Lady Astarion more than Dude Astarion beyond the initial excitement you that would expect with something as novel as your partner growing bangin' honkers overnight.

Yes, but it's kind of impossible to ignore the personality and the fact that Izzantar is a drow - which DU drow isn't very much into at all.

I think there are things that are of detriment to his health; running bodies of water, holy places, entering homes uninvited - these are things that would weaken him and result in something that would appear similar to a bad fever or the flu, save for the high internal temperatures. Rather, being "sick" in his case means becoming more and more corpse-like.

I also don't believe that Astarion is affected by the cold in the same way a humanoid would. He can feel temperature, but unless it reaches a destructive extreme (severe burns, frostbite) it doesn't result in any discomfort for him.

DU drow has no issue buying into Astarion's narrative of "all vampires are conniving backstabbers" and doesn't care if harm comes upon any of them - ESPECIALLY not Petras, who proves himself annoying in record time.

Alas! ANE has already been outlined to the end and I can say with full confidence that Grodderick's and Izzantar's relationship will never be explicitly displayed, since it has no relevance to the ongoing plot.

Definitely the cleavage. He can't properly inspect the feet from that high up.

Because I thought they looked cool, as simple as that, LOL.

They are not infernal eyes, just plain off-white like I depict them in my art (sometimes I lean more yellow depending on my mood). I think in the character creator they're called "demonic white" and I picked those because they were the evilest option.

At this point, I justify DU drow's odd appearance on behalf of him being a bhaalspawn before being a drow - in a way, he isn't a drow at all, rather he only vaguely resembles one in color scheme.

And thank YOU so much for supporting me on patreon!

I have! you can find a couple of pieces like that on my patreon, though obviously there's far less of them in comparison to the gay content.

Glad to hear that you like that art! However, I was just having a bit of fun, as I like to do. The boys are ultimately very monogamous and their friendship with Shadowheart, while very intimate, never breaches into sexual or romantic.

Unfortunately, Shadowheart is very likely dead in that AU 😬 if not dead, she has definitely split ways from them at the end of the game and wasn't particularly close to either, to begin with. Shadowheart is kind of a key part of DU drow's "redemption" - so I doubt that they would have had much of a friendship at any point in the story of that particular iteration of him.

Just "the drow", or nothing at all if they are referring to him directly. If he isn't the only nameless "drow" in the room, they might call him "the big drow" or "our drow" instead.

Astarion uses his usual nicknames on him, and Shadowheart isn't much for them - I guess characters like Karlach would have come up with something appropriate to call him, like "greysteak" or "goldilocks".

No, that wouldn't really work or be very interesting (to me!) because it would just result in them either killing each other or going their separate ways, since DU drow would never accept to be turned into a spawn or want remain in a relationship with that Astarion.

However, there is an alternate universe where Astarion Ascends and DU drow fails Bhaal 😇

[bonewaryreblogs]

Clark Kent/Kal-El (Superman)

Saved by his parents essentially macgyver-ing a rocket stasis pod, kryptonian toddler Kal-El was launched into space as Krypton exploded, eventually crash landing on Earth, near Smallville, Kansas. He was found by Martha and Jon Kent, who were in their 30s and desperately wanted children but had just been told they would be unable to conceive naturally, and adopted as Clark Kent, named after Martha’s maiden name. They weren’t sure how old Clark was so they just started counting from when they found him, calling that his “birth” day in 1952. They never hid his origins from him but they also couldn’t tell him what they didn’t know about Krypton.

As the child of a scientist and an astronaut back on Krypton, Clark was naturally smart and excelled at school, when he wasn’t labeled a “problem child” as he struggled to control his wide variety of superpowers, though he was able to hide these powers from all but his parents and his two closest friends, Lana Lang and Pete Ross, who also agreed to keep the secret. Clark tried to keep a low profile but Jon and Martha instilled a strong sense of right, wrong, and justice into Clark so he could never turn a blind eye to those in need.

At one point, the Legion of Superheroes arrived from the future via time travel and Clark went with them for a while, dropped off mere minutes after initially leaving to maintain timeline integrity. While in the future, Clark received superhero training and is told certain things about himself (yellow vs red sun radiation, Kryptonite, the fate of Krypton, etc) but understood that some things he would have to learn on his own, in his own time period (like his Rogues Gallery). Clark had been debating what to do with himself  before this but felt good about fulfilling his destiny as a superhero by the time he returned. Since he was still (at least legally) 16 by this point, Clark began preparations to move to Metropolis, focusing on studying to be a reporter/journalist as his day job rather than trying to be a superhero just yet.

(I’m using this to set up a reboot of an old idea I had for Braniac 5 and my OC Batboy getting stuck in the past for a while. It was initially for Teen Titans, but I kinda wanna rework it to fit with Phantom Bat lol)

Graduating at 18, he goes to Metropolis University for a few years before debuting as Superman at 25, having already established himself at the Daily Planet. He is quickly inducted into the Justice Society of America but soon realized the superhero team had some major flaws and drawbacks, particularly as he realized these “heroes” had become little more than the American government’s attacks dogs rather than thinking for themselves and following an independent moral system. He stayed, though, so he could access their resources, network with other heroes, and learn what not to do as he began making plans to create his own superhero team.

After meeting Batman (a la “The Batman” Season 5), Superman approaches Bruce with his plan for the Justice League, asking if Wayne Enterprise would be its “secret” financial backer. Bruce says he’ll think about it, since he had a lot on his plate at the time. Superman meets Wonder Woman shortly after she stopped Ares from inciting World War III, and quickly gets her to support his Justice League idea. Together they recruit Flash (Barry Allen), Green Lantern (Hal Jordan), Aquaman (Orin of Atlantis), and Martian Manhunter (J’onn J’onzz) as their starting lineup by the time Bruce finally agrees to back the Justice League, debuting to the world shortly thereafter in 1994. Once established and proven to be stable (ie. not likely to disband like other independent superhero teams) the Justice League drew many new members from around the world, often as representatives of national teams.

[mikuchan]

BG3 characters in WOT world, from @tetoman and I talking abt it

Shadowheart - Blue Ajah, either just oathed to the Dark or in the midst of being groomed to that state by Black Ajah Viconia (current Blue Ajah Sitter). Should have become a Yellow, probably.

Lae'zel - loving being a Seanchan sul'dam, until she learns that what she's doing is also channeling (just like a filthy damane!); has an identity crisis and rejects the Seanchan; either goes her own way, or follows the party to Tar Valon, and becomes an Accepted then Red Ajah (because when you learn your rigid societal power structure is false, it's best to replace it as quickly as possible with an equally rigid societal power structure).

Gale - was Warder to the current Amyrlin Seat, Mystra Sedai, until he realized that he could channel. Fled quickly for his hometown, horrified, but after doing some experimenting, realized he was able to (more or less) teach himself/control his channeling. Has since declared himself the Dragon Reborn.

Wyll - a nobleman's son, torn between the call of adventure and following his predestined duty - until he was swept up into this mess by one of the Forsaken. Now he travels from town to town disguised as a gleeman, doing his best to balance following Mizora's orders and undermining them where he can. Not a darkfriend in his heart, but is one on paper.

Karlach - Green Ajah, until she got got by the Seanchan. Was collared as damane, and while she escaped during the chaos of battle, the collar is still on. Some of the Tower were able to investigate the damane collar + do some workarounds for her to channel kind of; it's very unpredictable now, and she relies as much on melee fighting these days as she does on using the One Power.

Minthara - Red Ajah and loves it. Takes vicious pride in doing her duty; earmarked by Black Ajah (Red Sitter) Orin Sedai to be twisted into a full Black Ajah, and is currently under various levels of compulsion to do what Orin needs her to do.

Halsin - Way of the Leaf 🍃 not always great at keeping his temper, but he does what he can.

Astarion - soul corrupted by a cursed object a la Mat, currently a darkfriend being used by more powerful darkfriend Cazador.

-

Durge - a powerful Warder, but for some reason, his last two Ajahs both died in the heat of battle. The popular theory muttered around the Tower is that he's simply too bloodthirsty, too busy relishing in the fight to actually watch for his Ajah. Only his half-sister Orin Sedai and himself know the truth: not only did darkfriend Durge slaughter his own Ajahs, but he's also responsible for the sudden rash of violent murders within Tar Valon and the recent disappearances of two additional Ajah.

His sister helps to covers his tracks and shuts down any suspicions against her brother within the Hall, but is ready to kill him to keep her own cover whenever needed.

-

Orin - Red Sitter Orin Sedai draws many eyes over her zeal for the hunt, but this doesn't slow her down. She has a higher rate of kills versus gentlings than any other Reds, and while she sits within the Hall of the Tower as a Red, she's a Black Ajah operating directly under orders from the Forsaken Bhaal.

Gortash - once a minor Lord in Cairhien, his trade influences have heightened his power substantially within the last few years, thanks to his Dark pact with the Forsaken Bane.

Ketheric - long ago, he was the Warder of White Ajah Selune. She ascended to the Amyrlin Seat, but in doing so, severed their Bond; he had grown too old, she said, and it was time for them both to move on. While this forced retirement soured his relationship with the White Tower, he still had respect for the Aes Sedai...until Green Ajah Aylin Sedai, daughter of the Amyrlin Seat, came to town and whisked his daughter away to Tar Valon.

Now Isobel is a White Sedai, following Aylin's White Sitter mother, and Ketheric lends his own bitter heart to those for the Light but against the White Tower. A welcome ally, he rose rapidly to General within the Children of Light. He believes in the Children's mission, and it's to his regret that he's also a darkfriend operating under orders from the Forsaken one called Myrkul.

[noxspost]

Ludwig and Anais. Broken souls from the war.

anais is the tenth class, a supply man. she was the weirdest person ever, she wore a massive backpack that makes a clinging sound from the metal pans and items on her pack. The former red team always called her Orin or ma'am. she was an older Icelandic-Jewish* woman.

She often carried the smell of roosted potatoes, floral scent and metallic underneath. Now she works with the new members of Red team.

They in her humble opinion they were weirder. Ludwig was the most weird, she knew him. They were in a lavender marriage, since Ludwig didn't want to be married, he was gay and ace.

He didnt want to be harassed or worse killed for that fact so he kept it hidden and it was the most convenient marriage you can think of because they both were friends both liked each other and tolerate each other and he felt more heard. Anais was a close friend and she agreed to the marriage.

Anais smiles as he walks in and he seemed tried. Daisy walks over to the medic and Ludwig smiles as he pets the lizzard. He uses a cane as his spine and leg hurts. It gives him no rest. "Here." She brings the stool to the medic "rest now you are darft horse."

Ludwig laughs abruptly "Vhy is you calling me zhat?" Anais smiles and replies "you work hard but soon you burn and fall like rock from space." Ludwig smiles "right." He relaxes into the comfy chair. it was plush and it's slightly dipped at his weight his pain now propped up against the chair.

He watches her as she went cleaning around her room. Half of it had a wall up perks of Robert sitting up the wall and beyond that wall was her actual bedroom her personal room this room was the supply room kitchen/dining room. Misha was his lover and yet no one else knew about ludwig and Anais arrangement but he was still so racked with guilt.

today was just an awful day he barely kept the team alive, that bloody battle and he couldn't find Archimedes for I felt like hours turns out the guy was trapped in a fox trap that the Blu Team set up to just fuck with him.

He smiles as her backpack swings with her movement. She was goofy and he wanted to studied her brain.

He looks over as the pain spikes and he groans "how can you see the good in me?"

"Youu love and care. It is true I have seen it." She smiles as she walks over to hold his face "you are not Reckless, the ones we hunt or Daisy are good for tests." He smiles and laughs. Nakamoto Dragon was a lot like a child they shared, Anais was aroace "but I cannot be a medic when I have a leg that always bust it up every 3 days." He takes a few pain pills.

"those old scars remind you to take it easy you are draft horse but even they need rest weirdo." she replied fondly. She gives a heated pad to the medic. Which didn't suit the absolute ache in his joints specifically on his leg.

Ludwig laughed again tired and sad "so many kids were lost to the youth program. I'm glad he's dead." He leans honest hand as he reminisces about the past about the days he couldn't ever handle looking at pyro. The gas mask that can hide these stages of death of a person who died in mustard gas everything The Trenches even the German ones were cold and dark and twisted.

a weird maze designed to kill you before you even reach no man's land. He could feel him splintering apart as the glass breaks and the older kids cheer that the jews were being send away. He had seen the camps and you always held Anais in high respect.

she survived. he felt sick to his stomach thinking of those who was weird how he didn't flinch it disgusting things but those camps can make him turn pale and yellow belly and a heartbeat maybe that's the marketplace Humanity still intact "is it weird I have limits?" he asked absent-minded. His eyes went to gaze out the window unfocused

she gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. It breaks him out of the spiraling no you're not weird for that I would think it's weird if you don't she was getting better at stringing the grammar "no he was much of a coward to face it though but you are no coward you face mistakes Jekyll and Hyde."

He felt better. "Even with the cat scratches."

"Yes. You get better." She then turns to feed daisy who was begging for their food. "Coming now no worry."

Ludwig went back to thinking and he did feel better than before. He isn't a monster he could be worse but he would be better. Dolly a magpie that anais cares for. He sees ghe bird now on the other arm of the chair. He could feel the eyes of people. He sees them at the window. They blink some had signs jaundice liver poisoning arsenic poisoning. Most wete red tinted from tears that were shed and held back. He felt like shit. Old scars and wounds pulling at his skin and mind.

The heating pad was useful, he looks to dolly "Greet?" He then tries to point at the direction to get the bird to walk over there to respond but the birthstone silent because dolly was also trained in having both of them when hallucinations happened a lot of them being visual.

the bird went to preen its feathers. The bird knew that those were fake. "Greet." He whispers and dolly doesnt reply and comply. He sighs knowing the truth was just his brain.

Anais was singing to the music on the radio. Like before they were sent here. A schedule that was heavily modified to fit the environment now some semblance of the schedule was perfect for both of them the marriage was just a cover-up. They were just friends who grew up together and fucking survived that shit.

*Anais is considered ethnically but she doesn't practice Judaism.

Ludwig was once a medic who smuggle out a bunch of Jewish people who were in the Army and singing up.

he snuggled them out before Hitler's troops could get them and every single time he goes to a concentration camp Museum he can only go halfway through it before you completely breaks down or if he wants to survive at least the museum portion he has to go with someone usually and Anais or Misha.

He had a busted leg from being caught by the Gestapo and like many other resistance in Germany taking Jews out from Germany and getting them to safe place he was tortured but they can get anything out of Ludwig.

Also here is the names of each person of red team

Sniper- mat

Spy- jack (Jacques)/ jean

Scout- Sammy

Medic- Ludwig

Heavy- misha

Demoman is Tallinn

Engineer- Robert goes by Robbie

Solider- jane doe

Pryo is pyro

[rinwellisathing]

Papa Bhaal's House of Horrors: Part 1

“Fuck fuck fuck...Why did you piss him off, Aryn?” The young elven woman sobbed, sliding down to a sitting position, legs not able to carry her any further as she hugged her knees to her chest. “You should've left him alone, why'd you piss him off?” “Hey it's not my fault, Brynna! How was I supposed to know he was crazy?” The human shot back, pressing his back to the door of the shed as it strained against the vicious knocks against it from the outside. “Guys...please stop fighting, the Fist will be here soon, I'm sure...it's gonna be okay we just have to stay calm and....” The dwarf was cut off as she and the human were thrown across the shed as the door splintered, sending them sprawling. Four pairs of glowing eyes lit up the darkness and the blade of an axe gleamed in the pale moonlight. Screams pierced the night. ----

“Good afternoon, Moonrise County. It's Alfira coming to you from Last Light FM, your local source for weather, traffic, news, and some good mood tunes. It's getting chilly as harvest season begins, so druids get those crops harvested quickly now. We are also likely to see rain for the holiday weekend, tough break for those last minute tourists looking for a woodland get away. Traffic heading towards Baldur's Gate is at a stand still thanks to a stopped vehicle across the roadway. Now here's our chart topping local favorite three years running, The Sirens' cover of local folk song 'Down By The River'” Alfira removed her headset and nodded her head gratefully as her partner handed her a cup of coffee and the morning paper. “Thanks Lakrissa...” She took a sip and then eyed the headline. “More tourists disappeared, huh?” “Yeah, fifth group this year....I think the cult is getting restless.” Lakrissa grinned, her tone sing-song and teasing. “There's no cult, Lakrissa. Honestly it's probably just overconfident city people getting lost in the woods without enough supplies. It's sad, but not some crazy murder conspiracy.” Alfira frowned, shaking her head. “And I'm not going to entertain the idea it is and get everyone in a tizzy.” “But it's fall, Alfira. Spooky season! Don't you wanna do a little themed broadcast and get those numbers up?” Lakrissa's grin widened, eager and excited. “Gods know the station could use it.” Alfira stifled a laugh and looked deadpan at her lover. “Lakrissa, it's Moonrise County, population like...MAYBE two hundred at best...Those numbers aren't going anywhere.”

--- “Move it a little to the left, Orin.” Sentry frowned, making a frame with his hands and scanning the hanging corpse dangling from a meat hook in the shed. His little sister repositioned the head just a little closer to the shoulder, slightly off from where it would naturally have been, and looked quizzically at her brother. “Yeah! Perfect! Just like that!” He reached into the pocket of his denim cut offs and produced a heavy needle and some waxed thread. “Now just hold it steady.” “There's room for a second head at this angle, slaughter-kin.” Orin pointed out with a grin as blood dripped down the front of her hand sewn red dress. “Shit, you're right. What are we thinkin', pig? Sheep?” Sentry pondered as he moved the needle expertly through the skin, sewing the head into place. Orin pranced over to a cold chest in the corner of the shed and lifted the lid with a pale, thin arm, one long braid swinging over her shoulder as she peered inside and began to poke around. She ran her hands over the various heads the freezer contained, finally gripping a pair of horns and lifting it with a grin. “Mmm...This one!” She smirked, holding up the head of a dark grey goat, its strange yellow eyes gazing sightlessly forward.

“Great choice, little sister.” Sentry grinned, beckoning her back over as he finished his final stitch. “Now, just place it in position, and....” He paused a moment, ears pricking up at the sound of a car horn outside.

Orin grimaced and rolled her eyes, making a gagging noise as she watched her brother scamper to the door of the shed and throw it open, rushing out the door, waving eagerly as the deep emerald green convertible parked on the long dusty drive of the 'manor'. Polished black shoes, far too nice for this bumblefuck of a place, stepped from the car, followed by designer black slacks with gold embroidery and then a matching jacket over a deep green button down, the top five or so buttons undone revealing gold chains resting against a next of dark chest hair, a glimmering obsidian pendant in the shape of a clawed hand hanging from one. The man had deep tan skin, a few scars at his chin and cheeks, a nose that had never quite healed right after being broken more than a few times, and unkempt stubble. He wore a pair of stylish dark glasses and his messy black hair was just barely brushed. Still, Sentry fawned over this guy like he was a rock star. “Envyyyyy” Sentry grinned as he made his way over to the newcomer, swaying his hips as he did, unable to keep his tail from wagging like an excited puppy. “ Is this a social call or d'you have a job for us?” The tiefling asked, standing practically up against the human, one long nailed finger tracing that magnificent chest hair absently. “I'm afraid I'm here on business, dear Sentry, but then again, a bit of pleasure wouldn't go amiss, I suppose....if you aren't busy.” Enver's eyes cast towards the shed even as his hands rested on Sentry's hips. Those tacky, tattered denim shorts certainly made the younger tiefling a tempting little distraction. “Well he IS busy, oil-slick interloper.” Orin frowned, folding her arms across her thin chest, eyes narrowed. “We were just in the middle of a project!”

“Interloper, hmm? That's a big word for such a little girl.” Enver chuckled. “And also inaccurate, you know I have an understanding with your family, I provide my services in the procurement of victims, I make sure they don't leave the county, and in return, I acquire information, valuables, et cetera that you have no use for. I am a perfectly welcome guest, why, one could call me part of the family almost.” He ran a hand down Sentry's bare thigh, earning a gentle purr from the tiefling. “What ever you say, lickspittle. But my brother and I were in the middle of creating art! You can't simply pull him away.” The little girl huffed, her expression murderous. “Aww, Orin, don't worry, I'll come back in a bit...Can't be a poor host, though, can I?” Sentry chuckled, grabbing Enver by the hand and leading towards the house, hips swaying as he did. ---- “It's getting chilly as harvest season begins, so druids get those crops harvested quickly now. We are also likely to see rain for the holiday weekend, tough break for those last minute tourists looking for a woodland get away. Traffic heading towards Baldur's Gate is at a stand still thanks to a stopped vehicle across the roadway. Now here's our chart topping local favorite three years running, The Sirens' cover of local folk song 'Down By The River'” The radio crackled through the speakers of the used but well cared for car that made its way down the winding backroads of Moonrise County's deep woods. “Aww...well, there goes the idea of stopping for a picnic or something.” Jaina frowned as she leaned back in the seat, pulling her hoodie closer around her shoulders. “Though in fairness, that's on me for not putting the better jacket up front.”

“You know you can always borrow mine.” Wyll smiled gently, squeezing her hand, keeping his other hand firmly on the wheel. “And anyway, it's not TOO far outside of the city, so once we're settled in we can come back if you see the perfect picnic spot.” He beamed, eyes focused on the road ahead. Neither of them saw what tore through their tires. There was nothing visible there in the road ahead of them, but within a moment, there was the tell tale POP! Sound and their car swerved and bumped, Wyll trying to regain control as they swerved into a ditch by the side of the road. The car rolled and flipped, Jaina clinging tightly to the handle above the window while Wyll gripped the wheel tightly, their faces set in looks of shock as the sound of shattering glass and crunching metal filled the air. Finally, the dust settled and the car rested precariously on its side. “Hells! Are you alright?” He quickly looked to Jaina with concern. She winced as she sat up in her seat. “Yeah, my skin's tough, remember? Not a scratch...I'm just a little shaken up. What about you?” She reached to run her fingers across his face, searching for any scrapes or cuts where the window glass might have hit him. Thankfully nothing. “Same.” Wyll confirmed, reaching for his seat belt. “But we're not likely to get any further like this...Maybe we ought to get out and try and flag down some help.” Jaina quirked a brow as she undid her own seatbelt. “On this dead stretch? We'd probably be better off trying to find a town or a phone or something.” Wyll clamored out of the car, managing to force his door open and climb out, holding out his hand to help Jaina to follow him. Wyll sighed dejectedly and shook his head. “You're right...I don't think I've seen one other car the entire time we've been driving.”

Both of them peered down the long, foggy stretch of highway that had come from Waukeen's Rest. The highway stretched on into the mist before fading into a thick copse of trees as far as the eye could see. They both turned to look ahead, Jaina's sharp eyes fell on a hill peeking up through the thick woods. Was that a roof? She picked out the outline of a fence around a small balcony peeking out from what appeared to be an attic floor of a large house. A widow's walk? Out here in the woods? “Hey, there's a house that way. I mean...it's probably a long walk, but if we start now, we might be able to get there by dark.” She suggested, gently placing a hand on Wyll's shoulder and pointing towards the hill. “Right, let's check out the creepy house on the hill all alone in the middle of the woods. Surely nothing bad could happen to us in this perfectly innocuous scenario.” Wyll gave a small chuckle. But he knew she was right, it was the only sign of civilization they had any chance of reaching before night fell and the temperature dropped and waiting here was practically a death sentence. Jaina fished a flashlight and two water bottles from the back seat and handed one bottle to Wyll. He nodded gratefully to her and the two headed off. ----

“I see you've got hospitality handled, little brother.” The imposing white scaled dragonborn smirked, arms folded across his chest as he watched Sentry lead Enver into the house. Sentry turned and smiled up at him playfully. “I mean, you can certainly join in, big brother.” He winked, pausing a moment. “I'm sure he'd like it.” “Ah! Good to see you again, Gary.” Enver gave the dragonborn a charming, roguish smile. “You know, I find I'm seeing you less and less at my office lately. It's terribly depressing.” Gary grinned, his long, sharp teeth glinting in the light. “I've been busy...and honestly, so has Sentry.” He gave his brother a pointed look. Sentry rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. “You really need to relax more, brother. One of those folks out in the shed had a cassette tape with them about burn out and stress, it can kill you, y'know.” Gary exhaled deeply and rubbed his temples. “And why are you bothering with their junk? The protocol is very simple, little brother, you loot the bodies, set aside things that are useful to Enver or Ketheric, the rest goes to your geeky little friend at the pawn shop who doesn't ask questions.” “I was just curious if it was like music or something...I can't just get by with whatever's playing on the radio, it's got no bite!” Sentry pouted. “Besides, Sorcerous Salvage is full up on cassette tapes, Rolan will bitch about it if I bring him anymore.”

Gary sighed and shook his head. “You and Orin will be the death of me, brother...” “Well yes, I thought that was pretty much father's plan...or you'll be the death of us.” Sentry replied, once again grabbing Enver's arm. “Now, are you coming or not?” The Dragonborn's red eyes moved from his little brother to the charmingly sleazy human and then back towards the door. He shrugged. “I suppose there's time, Sarevok is still below the house praying, Jackal is still out on the road hunting, I haven't seen the others, so there's time.” He joined his brother, his arm slipping around Enver's waist, sharp nails digging into his hip. “But we'll use my room, yours is a disaster even by Bhaalist standards.” Sentry rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine! Your bed is bigger anyway.” ---- Wyll and Jaina had been walking for nearly an hour by now. The going was slow and the trail was not particularly well kept. A grim sense of foreboding filled the air as the two of them gripped one another's hands for comfort. The sun was threatening to set any moment and neither one was entirely sure this path would lead to the house they had seen in the distance.

A twig snapped and Jaina's eyes darted towards the sound, her heart hammering in her chest. Nothing. Just a lonely path dappled with autumn leaves. Wyll squeezed her hand gently. “We just need to keep moving, we'll get there, we'll find help.” She nodded. “I just hope sooner rather than later, these woods are giving me the creeps.” She shuddered. The rustle of leaves underfoot and a few more sickening cracks seemed to sound all around them. Subconsciously, the two began to move a little faster, sweat beginning to bead on Wyll's brow as Jaina felt her blood run cold. The two were practically running down the trail when a voice barked. “Hey! Watch where you're going!” And they just barely missed running into a stocky male drow in hunting gear. His face was scarred and pock marked, whether from illness or habit they weren't certain. Bright lilac eyes scowled in their direction and his dark grey hair was sweat soaked beneath his battered brown and green cap. An antique bow was strapped across his back alongside a quiver full of arrows. His jacket was the same shabby brown and green as his cap and his pants matched. Heavy boots crushed the leaves and sticks beneath his feet, well, at least they knew who'd made the noise. “What in the hells are you two doing out on this trail at this hour? People hunt here and you idiots are fixing to get shot.” He growled, eyeing them up and down, sizing them up. Wyll noticed that he was more wary of Jaina than he was of him, but he supposed it was in the nature of a drow.

“Our car flipped on the side of the road, sir. We're just looking for some help.” Wyll explained cautiously, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. “We don't want any trouble.” Jaina followed Wyll's lead, nodding her head along with what he was saying. “We saw a house in the distance, we thought maybe someone there had a truck...or we could find a phone?”

The drow gave a little chuckle and smirked. “Shit, alright....that's my house up there, mine and my family's. We ain't got a phone, but I got a truck, I'll give you two a lift to town in the morning.” He offered with a nod of his head. It was still getting darker out by the minute, the sunlight barely permeating the foliage overhead anymore and Jaina shivered, leaning in closer to Wyll, who looked to the man in confusion. “Damn you city folk are thick, aren't you? The invitation to stay the night's included.” The hunter adjusted his quiver and turned back the way he'd came, giving a sharp nod for them to follow. “Now come on, I'll lead you there.” He grinned wickedly, turned away from them so neither caught sight. “You don't wanna be out here when night falls.”

[peonyforyourthought-s]

A Little Distraction

TW: 18+ content !! MDNI

WC: 1.5K

Tav’s had enough of the abundance of planning Enver has committed himself to. She decides to take matters into her own hands to draw his attention to something more… entertaining.

AO3 Link Here

Just a little something to hold myself over until I finish the final chapter of The Night Shift 🙈

Tav watched from a stained glass window as the sun started to set below the city’s skyline. The colorful panes reflected a few rays of the day's last light onto the floor below, hues of red and yellow sparkled against the wooden boards. It was another late night with Lord Gortash, his office had become like a second home by now, much warmer than the temple. Gortash remained at his desk most of the day, enjoying her silent company. He occasionally asked for her thoughts during his meticulous planning, answered in usually a couple of short words before she returned to her voided stare across the city. Only until the sun disappeared beyond the horizon did he finally leave his desk to give her proper attention. The pair had reached the final hour of their invasion, most days spent fine tuning their strategy, some less productive night spent in bed together. Tav knew her sister was becoming more volatile by the day, it would be foolish to assume she wasn’t plotting to usurp her position as the Chosen of Bhaal. However cowardly it was to hole herself up within Lord Gortash’s office, she didn’t mind. A fight would be imminent, necessary in fact, in order to secure her birthright. For now she waits to anticipate Orin’s next move, keeping a cautious eye on her movements within The Gate. 

It had become a bit of a bore though, wordlessly sitting by his window each day as he scribbled on parchment behind her. Jumping down from her perch, Tav made her way behind the lordling in his chair. She snaked her arms around Enver’s neck, laying her head against his as she looked over the maps scattered across his desk. 

“Let’s take a break, shall we?” She said in a seductively low voice next to his ear. Gortash frowned and continued with his work, “You’ve hardly contributed today.” He scoffed. 

“There’s nothing left to do! We’ve accounted for every possible deviation from the strategy, you’ll start to go mad spending another night staring over these maps.” She said with a whine. Gortash brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose, pinching the bridge in frustration. 

“Another hour. Then you’ll have my attention.” He said shortly, laying a hand on her arm before returning his gaze to the desk. A worthless compromise, Tav was sure her own mind would rot if she had to wait for another hour. It was common for Gortash to be the last to quit for the day, working until his hands grew numb from gripping his quill, ink pots cluttering his space. If it was truly so difficult to tear him away from his desk, perhaps she should do it herself. 

Circling his desk, Tav dipped down below the table top and sat in between his knees. Enver paid her no mind as she ran her hands along his thighs, her clawed nails sending shivers down the lordling’s spine. Only until she began fumbling to unclasp his belt did he cock an eyebrow at her, his gaze unreturned as she focused on freeing him from his trousers. Tav looked up to watch for his reaction as she reached into his pants through his underwear, massaging at his growing cock with a gentle hand. Gortash let out a short breath as she worked her hand along his shaft, bringing it up to press a soft thumb against his tip. She felt him hardened in her hand as she stroked his shaft and teased his head with her fingertips. Even as his heart began to race at the slow, languid movements, Gortash clenched his jaw and let out a short curse before returning to his work. His attempt to ignore her only spurred her on as she freed him from his trousers, the considerable length springing out and slapping against his stomach. With a hum of amusement, Tav brought her mouth around the head, swirling her tongue over beads of pre cum before swallowing him entirely. She relished in his taste, letting out another satisfied hum as she bobbed up and down his length. Enver let out a deep groan as he was engulfed in the wet heat of her throat. His hand moved to a tight grip on the chair’s arm, his nails making shallow grooves into the wood in an effort to hold himself back, hiding his desperation. Tav picked up her pace, pumping her fist along what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. 

“Couldn’t wait another hour?” Gortash gritted through his teeth as he raked a hand through her hair, gripping onto the base of her curved horn. Tav gave a gentle shake of her head to indicate, no, she absolutely couldn’t wait. Enver let out a chuckle at her impatience, succeeded by a sharp inhale as her teeth grazed against his skin. The mix of pleasure and pain sent a roaring wave of arousal through his body, his mind screamed for more of her mouth, her touch, her taste. Tav could hear his frustration through the reserved groans he let out, the room filling with lewd sounds as she sloppily fucked him with her fist. Enver glanced down underneath the desk and she returned his gaze through half lidded eyes as she devoured him, the dizzying sensation causing Enver to thrust his hips against her mouth. Tav started to choke as she felt the tip press against the back of her throat, looking up at Enver in a plea for him to be gentle. Instead she was met with a devilish smirk as his eyes darkened at the scene in front of him, clouded by a thick aura of desire.

“Gods, your mouth feels divine.” He let out breathlessly, looking down at her with a sinful expression. Enver took advantage of her willing submission, wrapping his hands around the dark horns on her head, pushing her to take him further, deeper into her mouth. Gortash let out a guttural moan as he slammed her mouth down onto his cock. Using her horns for leverage, his hands moved in a rhythmic motion to drive himself deeper with every pump. Enver’s show of dominance only spurred Tav on as she moaned around his length, the vibrations sending shivers up his spine. She surrendered to his bruising pace and hollowed out her cheeks as she sucked and swallowed his length, running her tongue along the ridges of his soft skin. 

“That’s it. You take me so well, my dear.” 

Tav whimpered as he stuffed her mouth with his thick cock, feeling her own heat shudder for attention at his soft praise. Enver’s composure started to slip as he watched her hand disappear between her thighs, her moans around his cock growing louder as she worked her delicate fingers around her clit. An intense pressure began to rise in the pools of Enver’s stomach, threatening to spill over if Tav continued her feverish pace. 

She couldn’t resist the urge to make him finish in her mouth, to suck and stroke him dry until he’s nothing but a mumbling fool under her touch. She’d give anything to watch him completely unravel. Once, twice, however many times he’d allow. The thought of it drove her wild, her fingers began to move faster against her clit as she drew herself closer to her peak. Tav started to gently suck on the tip, knowing this would push him over the edge. She stroked what she didn’t swallow, the combination having a dizzying effect on the Archduke. Enver shakily grabbed at a clump of her hair as a string of curses tumbled out of his mouth in a husky growl. 

“Good girl.” He struggled to spit out, “Don’t stop.” 

She didn’t intend to. His eyes were now fixed onto her, her soft hand gliding along his cock, her swollen lips tenderly working the pleasure out of him. Tav’s fingers started to move sloppily against her folds, the sensations becoming too much for her to suppress any longer. He could hear the wet sounds of his wicked little assassin pleasuring herself, how her legs began to tremble underneath her fingers, her thighs tensing at the building pressure. He was intoxicated by the sound of her gagging against his girth, her unrelenting strokes pulling him closer, closer to the edge. As Tav reached her climax. she let out a guttural moan and Enver pushed his cock further into her mouth to muffle the sounds. Tav choked around his length as she rode out her orgasm, intense waves of pleasure rolling through her as the obscene sounds around her turned to white noise. As he felt his own release approaching Enver couldn’t help but let out a primal groan, his hips involuntarily bucking against her throat at a shattered speed. His moans grew louder and more vulgar with every stroke, shouting her name as he filled her throat with his warm seed. The excess spilled out of the sides of her mouth before she pulled off with a sickening pop, happily swallowing everything he emptied inside of her. 

“You wicked thing.” He said to her in a low voice, collecting the remaining spit lining her mouth with his thumb, bringing his fingers to his mouth to taste them both. Tav gave him a weak smile and mustered up what little strength she had to rise to her feet before immediately dropping into Enver’s lap. The Archduke let out a soft chuckle and brushed her hair out of her face, wrapping his hands around her waist to hold her tighter against him. Tav nestled her face into his neck, leaving soft kisses along the flesh, nipping at his skin with her teeth. Enver didn’t mind and he scooted the chair closer towards the desk, picking up the dried quill and dipping it back into the ink pot. It didn’t need to be said that this was only a preamble for the night to come, but for now Tav listened as he scribbled on parchment and flipped through the pages of a dusty journal. 

[tacticalgrandma]

“Why did you come back?”

Durge and Orin

That night, Orin orders her flock out to the city streets. Cause havoc. Breed fear. Leave. When the temple is quiet and almost empty, she goes to the gith locked to the altar.

The woman is unconscious, and will be until her death. At first Orin had kept her awake, hoping the awareness of her capture would be agony. But the gith’s curses and insults quickly became tiresome, and she had managed to bite off the tip of an acolyte’s finger when they tried to give her water. So now she is fed only sleeping potions. She lies in a delightfully corpselike slumber under the eyes of Bhaal.

Orin sits on the altar next to her. She peels one of the gith’s eyelids back. The yellow cat-eye does not acknowledge her.

“When she comes, it will be for me, not you,” Orin tells her.

The gith does not respond. Orin continues. “She was too slow fighting me before, too. In the great castle of flesh, on that veiny earth—it was perfect! A perfect grave for a daughter of Bhaal.” Orin shakes her head. “But she didn’t fight me like she did other, lesser creatures. She was always underestimating me. She let a death blow slip through her fingers, like she did not think I would see it. I saw it. I took it. She paid for thinking so little of me.”

Orin lifts the gith’s arm. It is too slender for the strength Orin has seen her capable of. She prods the bicep. Firm, solid, there is in fact muscle there. Perhaps githyanki bones are simply skinnier than those of other races. Orin will have to check after she tears this woman apart.

“I left her there because her death was so pathetic,” Orin recalls. “If she would not honor me with a proper duel, I saw no need to honor her by savoring her murder. I did not look back. Do you think they found her where I left her? Do you think she crawled after me? Maybe she regretted, once she was alone with that sinfully fecund brain.”

Orin twists back one of the gith’s fingers. The crack of bone is audible in the still temple. Orin watches the gith closely, but she does not wake. Her alchemists have done adequate work, then.

“She must have,” Orin says. “She must be afraid to fight me now, and that is why she was hesitating. Or maybe she listened to that terrible, greasy man again. She must be craven or weak and that is why she did not come running to face me. Whatever brainmeat I bit from her skull, it must have been the part of her that was foolish and arrogant. I must have left the part of her that learned how worthy I was, right there at the end. She must be embarrassed by how much gratitude I am owed.”

Orin grips the gith’s face with both hands. “I had to addle her mind from afar this time,” Orin tells her. “I had to stir her gray matter and turn her from a coward, to a desperate coward. I had to let her know I did not enjoy waiting. But even if I hadn’t taken you, even if that smug little heathen had not forced my hand, she would have come to me. It would have taken longer, but she would have come.”

Orin shifts her blunt fingernails into claws. Freckles of blood join the black spots on the gith’s cheeks. “You are a tool, do you understand?” Orin asks her. “You are a catalyst for what was inevitable. She wants to rescue you, but she needs to face me. You are not her blood. Do you understand? Do you understand?”

The gith does not respond.

[genderbinaryisforlosers]

Born with the gifts of a storm sorcerer, Malus spent their youth learning everything they could about magic. Much of their tutelage came from a cleric of Deneir who would go on to swear them in as a paladin under the Oath of Devotion. They channeled their tempestuous abilities into thunderous, searing, and radiant smites, empowering their sword to protect the vulnerable and the helpless.

detailed ID: Malus is a tiefling with medium grey skin, glowing yellow eyes with black sclera, and curly pink hair pinned at the sides to create a mohawk effect. They have hall spiralled "minouros" horns, a short beard on their chin, and a septum piercing. They have faint markings in a symmetrical pattern on their forehead, and some slight scarring on their face from slashing wounds.

Their armour is plate and mail with large silver pauldrons and a light pink undershirt and accents on the breastplate. At ease, they wear a simple white shirt and brown trousers.

Karlach is a muscular tiefling woman with red skin, wild brown-and-red hair, golden cat-like eyes, and curling horns one of which is broken near the base. Flames ripple over her constantly. Wyll is a Black human man large curving horns. He has one eye that is red-on-black, and one that is a light grey stone prosthetic.

gif IDs (copied from alt):

A custom Baldur's Gate 3 character, a tiefling with pink curly hair and grey skin, lifts their head to reveal brightly glowing eyes, passing from pale yellow to pale blue. Text reads: Malus, Zariel tiefling.

Malus holds Orin's netherstone in their fist, looking up. Text reads: Sage background.

Malus reaches up to a bright light with their gauntlet. Text reads: Paladin, Oath of Devotion.

Malus stands in the sun with a surprised expression, which turns to a soft smile. Karlach and Astarion can be seen crossing behind them. Text reads: Neutral good alignment.

Malus, without their armour on, dances with Wyll. Malus smiles as they place their hand against Wyll's. It cuts to an overhead shot as they step together and apart gracefully, keeping their hands touching. Text reads: Wyll Ravengard, love interest.

Malus, Karlach, and Wyll standing in Avernus. Karlach offers a cigar to Wyll, who shakes his head with a smile, and then to Malus, who takes one. There is then a cut to a close up of Malus smiling. Text reads: Banes of Avernus ending.

[ja9-animations]

this is your free pass to yap about your ocs tell me about the smallest details 👀

Ok I'm gonna list a bunch of fun facts about random stuff in Melancholy be prepared for the long list that's about to be made.

In the Barclay family, it has been a tradition since Orin to only have one child. It was also a tradition to keep the last name Barclay for everyone in the family because it was Eryss's name. So for example, Astor used to have her dad's name, Powell, but after she met her brother, Orin, she changed it to Barclay. Her daughter Irma was married and her husband took her last name. This continued until Leian Barclay, who's name was changed to Tulia Birch by the King for her own protection. The tradition sort of continued to Lyke, who took his mom's last name, Birch, instead of his dad's name, Cahill. Tulia went a long with the tradition to only have one child, but broke that tradition when she adopted Mayn, symbolically turning away from Orin and her family and becoming her own person.

Viridian was the Shapeshifter that rules over Steris (the island Kandid and Lyke are from) and she was an artist. In her temple, she painted a sculpted a lot. Cora (Castella's mom/Kandid's grandma) was hired by the King to create Orin's grave because he wanted a human to do it instead of a Shapeshifter. Viridian often came to see the progress of the grave, and she was very impressed by the artistry and detail Cora put in. When Cora finished the grave, Viridian invited her and Castella to live on her island and Cora agreed. Viridian and Cora straight up had a secret affair going on, and literally nobody found out. Viridian watched Castella grow up, and sort of viewed her as a daughter. After Cora died, she tried to connect to Castella but Castella despised Shapeshifters and never became close to Viridian. When Kandid was born, Viridian also sort of saw him as family but she didn't make any efforts to talk to him cause of Castella and Antin. After the entire war, and after Viridian's death, her temple was opened to the public by Rosie's dad, and a young 12 year old Kandid found several paintings of Cora and even a couple of paintings of him and his family. He told Antin and he was so confused like "wtf is this???" It's just a little funny I think cause this is the closest anyone ever found out about Cora and Viridian's relationship.

All True Weatherman have blue eyes. The named True Weatherman characters in Melancholy are Kandid, Castella, and Thieous (Acreaous' dad.) all these characters have blue eyes always. Some people can have eyes the same color as the color their eyes turn when they use their abilities, like a Healer having natural red eyes, or a Speaker having natural yellow eyes. It's rare but it can happen. A somewhat example of this is Ronan who has light gray eyes. She doesn't have completely white eyes, but her ability definitely impacted her eyes color making it light gray.

A 12 year old Lyke saw a painting of Sirin in Viridian's temple and was incredibly put off by it. He told his mom and Tulia explained a few days after he was born, Sirin and two other Shapeshifters named Corrin and Aantra tried to kill him and his family, but Castella came and helped fight them off. Lyke doesn't remember the experience, but he subconsciously remembers the fear of it.

Orin's knife is basically the chekhov's gun of Melancholy and is one of the most important items in the entire story.

Kya tried to kill Acreaous once before she started the second rebellion.

There's an island called The Desolate because it was destroyed by the King and Queen about 900 years prior to the start of Melancholy. They created a volcano which wiped out the people, and the remaining people that tried to escape were turned into sea monsters. There's a legend that if you sail to The Desolate, the sea monsters will attack your ship and you will die.

Part of Kandid's ancestry is from The Desolate, but he doesn't know that.

Barclay actually means "birch meadow" so I think you can put two and two together to why Tulia surname was changed to Birch.

The abilities people can have are Speaker ("talk" to animals,) Reader (create thought into reality, can sometimes read minds but very rare,) Bender (basically just telekinesis,) Mimic (mimic a person or animals voice,) Healer (Flesh Healers can heal people, a Plant Healer can heal plants,) Aquas (control water,) Ignitor (control fire,) Weatherman (control weather,) and Shapeshifter (basically every ability combined.)

I might reblog this with more facts when I think of some later but thanks for much for the ask peach!!! :D

[beecreeper]

5, 12, 20 for the Tav companion ask? For all of them? 👀

Aaaaaaaa sorry this took so long!!!! Big huge answers under the cut!!

5.) Describe their idle animations

Briar – laying on the ground and staring into space (undoubtedly tripping), drinking from one of her fermentation bottles, vibing with her spores by like vaguely gesturing with her hands and watching how they float around, idly fiddling with/twirling her scythes, crossing her arms and glowering, doing that bored arrogant looking picking at your fingernails using your thumb thing

Ferox – pummeling the shit outta his training dummy, nervously scratching the back of his neck, standing all tense with his fists as his sides, (not in camp clothes) adjusting his armor, cleaning his hammer

Molli – head bobbing side to side like she has a song in her head (she does), penguin arm flappys, playing either her concertina or her flute, sitting with her knees curled up into herself, nervously fidgeting with her fingers

Myrala – practicing some sword dancer type moves, swaying back and forth, brushing off her pants/skirt (I still haven’t decided an official design for her camp clothes), running her fingers through her hair/fixing her hair/fiddling with the hair pin, something like praying/meditating, idly rubbing at her hand stub (she still gets phantom pain sometimes but she doesn’t consciously think about it anymore).

Poppy – playing some kinda dice game by herself, chillin’ with her hands on her hips, shaking out her hair like a horse, I know that in game companions don’t leave their tents but Poppy needs to be prodding at a campfire, practicing with a cross bow, throwing knives, or throwing axes

12.) Does your Tav have any tattoos or scars? Why?

Briar – Briar has red tattoos all over her body. She got them originally as a druid, with a vague concept in my mind that they follow “energy lines” in her body and helped her connect to/channel her druid magic. Originally, the tattoos were a very pale green and were imbued with spore magic, but when Briar fully connected with Bhaal for the first time and slaughtered her circle, the tattoos changed to red! Like Bhaal was overwriting them with himself instead. In the AU where she rejects Bhaal, her tattoos go back to their original color.

Pretadpole she didn’t have any notable scars, but post tadpole she gets the obligatory durge autopsy scars and the orin lobotomy scar over her eye

Ferox – Ferox has a buuuuuuunch of scars. Most of them are from scraps and fights when he was a kid/teenager and was a lot more reckless/less good at not getting hit/didn't wear as much armor, though some new ones will crop up into his adulthood. The major ones I always make sure to draw include the big one across his face, the ones on his neck, and a big x shaped one on his chest, but he really does just have a variety of them all over. He also has pale yellow tattoos on his face that I truthfully I haven’t actually figured out the exact when and why of. I usually imagine them as being from the goblins, as a tribal marker or something like that. Probably got them relatively young too, especially since Ferox’s urge flares up in response to pain. If he was too old/too strong, the tattoo would NOT have gotten finished lol.

Just like Briar he gets the durge autospy scars and he gets his lobotomy scar on the side of the head.

Molli – Molli's got a bunch of scars from her time with Gortash stemming from various “punishments” she’d have to endure, concentrated on her back but also on her arms, legs, and chest. The most notable/unique/disturbing scars are the letters EG in Thorass script cut into the side of her neck, the inside of both wrists, and her inner thigh. Ya gotta mark your property after all

Myrala – Well the big obvious one is that Myrala is missing a hand. I’m gonna go ahead and count that as a scar lol. She got her hand cut off as punishment for stealing when she was about 11 or 12. The only other notable scar she has is one that I use to distinguish which timeline I’m using for her – in the timeline where she never meets Ferox, she still gets captured by goblins and has to escape on her own, getting a scar on her chin in the process. In the universe where she *does* meet Ferox, he takes that hit for her instead.

Poppy – Poppy has clear scratch marks over one eye. This happened when she was about 7 years old and the sketchy kinda creepy guy in her mercenary family turned out to be TOTALLY unhinged, shapeshifting into a big jackal and dragging her off in the middle of the night. “Plan” is a strong word for Billy but he was essentially planning on sacrificing her (to Bhaal in the AU where Billy is a durge and to some other evil god/demon thing in the AU where he isn’t). BUT her family chased him off in time so it’s fiiiiiiiiine she only got a little maimed and a little ptsd about it she’s fiiiiiiine

I haven’t given Poppy any tattoos but I’m realizing now that I totally should. She’s absolutely the kind of person who is getting spur of the moment stick and poke tattoos at a party. Probably stuff like skulls and knives and flowers

20.) What is their relationship to touch? Do they shy away from it? Do they need it to feel present?

Briar – Briar is the kind of person who seeks out more and more extreme physical sensations in order to feel something (emotionally speaking. She feels physical sensations just fine.). This is part of what she likes about sex, even though she’s teeechnically ace. Doubly so for pain and stuff. Any kind of slow or sensual or intimate touch is off the table, but less because of the sensation and more because of the emotional aspects. A gentle caress? Get that shit OUTTA here and choke me already. She doesn’t wanna remember that the other person is a person she just wants to do something exciting.

Ferox – Ferox has a fraught relationship with touch. He’s very sensitive to it and pain especially tends to trigger his urges. Out of worry/guilt, he tries to avoid physical contact with others if he can help it, but on the flip side that means he’s suuuuuuuuper touch starved. Give *him* a gentle caress and he will literally melt.

Molli – Molli is also super sensitive to touch and has a complicated relationship with it. She’s the kind of person who, under normal circumstances, would be very cuddly and physically affectionate and love to receive touch from the people she cares about. And she still *is* but... well now touch brings up a lot of bad memories and complicated feelings. She *wants* to enjoy it but her mind is pulled somewhere else. In general she doesn’t like brushing motions, leaning more towards pressure based/static touch (hugs, laying on top of each other, cuddling, holding etc)

Myrala – Myrala's kinda middle of the road here idk what to say. I think she’s maybe a bit more on the reserved side. Like, she won’t offer a hug but she will accept one. When she’s in a relationship she loves casually and gently brush against their skin.

Poppy – I don’t know if I would say whether Poppy particular craves touch or not but she IS the kinda person who is constantly casually touching other people. Pats on the back, playfully elbowing you, big ol’ friendship hugs after meeting you once that kinda thing. She will get in your personal space for sure for sure. Like I’ve said before she grew up with a rowdy mercenary group with frequently rotating members that all treated each other like family, so that’s the kind of social interaction she’s accustomed to.

[anderstrevelyan]

I've only barely edged my toes into Act 3, but I have to ask what is "Haunted One"?

thank you!! (answering questions about my WIPs here)

This one's a prequel fic! The title comes from the name of the in-game background if you play the Dark Urge. But I'll still be super cautious and go under a cut in case you don't know what the Dark Urge is yet and don't want to know.

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So this is the origin story for my Valas DeVir, told in four days: the last day of his childhood, and his first day in Bhaal's temple, then the first day he meets Enver Gortash and the last day before he's betrayed by Orin.

He's the son of my character from the first two games, so there's a fair amount of reconciling that with the bg3 backstory: his relationship with Jaheira, tension with Sarevok and Helena Anchev, Bhaal taking hold of him through his dreams and the arrival of his Urge. It flirts with some broader dnd canon, too, especially the Murder in Baldur's Gate campaign: the death of Valas's father as he turns into the Slayer, and the off-page presence of Torlin Silvershield, the former Chosen of Bhaal.

Plus a whole lot of durgetash in the second pair of chapters.

This one's my biggest focus right now and the first time I've ever written all the chapters of something before starting to post it, so I'm ajsdklfjsfldsgfjdslf very excited to get it out into the world soon!

Hmm, for an excerpt I'll do some of the Gortash chapter I've never shared before:

It’s a singular feeling, the anticipation that comes before a party within the Upper City’s wall. Enver Gortash had savoured it, back when he’d had to arrive grasping a signed invitation to be admitted after dark, to stand on the edges at some minor family’s manor making eyes at Wisteria Jannath until she could steal away. He enjoys it still, new in his lordship, even as each night’s extravagance grows uninspiring: the moments before the performance, where his very presence is a show of power. And tonight, as he makes his way to the storied Silvershield Estate—tonight has the air of one he’ll want to remember. An important meeting, an introduction choreographed with a gravity befitting its promise. Later, with hindsight, he’ll look back and see this as a turning point. As perhaps the most important evening of his life. But for now, with a jacket dark and fingers adorned gold, he breathes in that potential in the evening air as he reaches the neighbourhood’s western edge. He chose today for the location itself, and he hadn’t had to wait long for the right invitation: the Silvershields are consummate hosts, their property the length of a city block, their gardens expansive and expensive, the walls themselves carved intricately, patriotically with yellow granite from the bluffs. It’s an unmistakable honour to be invited for newer members of the Gate’s gentry; being seen here—making an impression here—that’s been a coveted thing for generations. Yet the list is far from exclusive, to attract enough revellers to keep the grounds from looking too sparse: a place possible to bring an unexpected guest. A dangerous guest. Even better, in Gortash’s mind, is the layer of iniquity past all the pristine gravel and polished gossip, if you know what lies beyond the hinged bookshelf in Duke Torlin Silvershield’s office on the second floor. Gortash doesn’t, not exactly, but he has his suspicions from information spied and stolen: enough that he’d be surprised if his invited guest hasn’t graced these halls before, though surely not in the view of so many gentle, innocent eyes. No, a party like this is Lord Gortash’s world. And he intends to keep the upper hand.

[mrcrowblargs]

been a little while since I updated my BG3 log and I got lots done aaaa feeling excited and a bit sad that I'm nearing the end. I've really enjoyed this adventure.

After Cazador, took Gale to visit Mystra. Got some big news but I urged him to seek forgiveness and freedom over anything. I like that Gale is on the surface one of the good guys but he can fall into power corrupts as easily as say, Astarion.

On the hunt for the House of Grief I ran into THE WORST FUCKING QUEST EVER OH MY GODDDDDD this haunted ass house handed my ass to me over and over. I hated every inch of it.

Fashion time! It's so late in the game that you find new underwear

got one little tag on my doodle comic like "OP is in denial about the rotting teeth" and im just like I DONT SEE IT HONESTLY??? they just look yellow and like there's a of a snaggletooth.

More plot based stuff under the cut!

Wrapping up Shadowheart's quest was harder than Astarion's by virtue of TWENTY FUCKING ENEMIES I had to restart twice before the first round ended... made liberal use of Hypnotic Pattern. I didn't find it as cathartic an end as Astarion's but there was still definitely like, a release. And I love Shadowheart's last line there.

The reward was great tho. My bard now has 24 CHA baybeeeyyy

time to rescue Lae'zel (she was kidnapped before Cazador) and OH SHIT THATS THE SKULL FROM THE MAIN MENU SCREEN??? AAAA The Baahlists are a bitch and a half with all their murder status effects and I was SO GLAD I respecced Karlach into Barbarian 8 / Thief 4 for that extra cunning action when the "defeat this guy before he casts Power Word Kill at you" fight came up. What a fucking mess that was.

Fighting Orin was easier... I was not expecting her to transform into a big dumb monster honestly! I expected she would be teleporting around or use some shapeshift abiltiy to be all annoying but it was a really straight forward fight.

Oh, aaaaaannnd I did not fight Sarevok, so that was another Weird Ritual to inspire my tav. He's now an unholy assassin and I'm sure Astarion must appreciate the smell of being absolutely soaked in blood. I don't feel too bad about killing Valeria because she seemed like a terrible detective though I did have karlach skip her turns in the fight because I couldn't imagine her being for it. Like it's just pathetic.

Took Astarion to the drow twin courtesans... tbh I appreciate the game showing like, yes he is healing and doing better but some things you just don't get over right away. But I also want to get the spray bottle out like dude!!! don't force yourself!!!

I used a growth elixir on Karlach for the Orin fight which didn't use up that many character resources and the elixir lasted all day so... directly to the House of Hope with Karlarge it was!

Bit of a visual glitch because it reappeared later but it was nice to see Aldrich without the raccoon eyes and veins again. Just went around sitting on things in Raphael's house.

AND THEN UH???? UHH??? This supremely awkward scene with Raphael's personal incubus who looks exactly like him??? I didn't wanna start a fight because I thought Raph himself might show up but I could not pass the fucking Con check afgkdd

"you can have my body but not my soul" AGSFKHDDS???? I'm jelly tho I wish I had these eyes (but more purple) for Aldrich

Reloading and fighting the incubus was absolutely worth it for this Speak With Dead bit. the answer: he bottoms exclusively.

AND THEN THE FIGHT WITH THE BIG DEVIL HIMSELF!!!! I was already amazed when vocals dropped into the fight music BUT THEN HE WAS SIGNING HIS OWN BATTLE MUSIC???? It absolutely slapped. Amazing fight. I had Hope with me and convinced Yurlgirldsbfjs whatever his name is to join which greatly reduced the chaos. The only criticism I have is that it was a big of a slog getting Raphael down from 666 HP. but damn what a great loot payoff!

Getting near the end now. Of outstanding quests I have now, I gotta pass the hammer off to Voss, find/recruit Minsc, see if anything else is in the sewers, then sabotague the Steel Watch factory, infiltrate the Iron Throne, and confront Gortash. Then we'll see how it goes for the finale.

I'm still kinda worried what it will mean for my Tav going partially illithid and also aiming for freeing Orpheus. Seems like freedom really rides on the guy cooperating with us.

[shimmerbeasts]

Didn’t they tell them, they were everywhere and nowhere, they could be anyone, at anytime, in anyplace, no matter what, they could worm and wriggle their way within and no one at all would be any the wiser to whom they truly where and what had happened to the person that they had taken for themselves.

The person who had once been, there hopes, dreams, who they were and who they wanted so hard to become within this city, to chase and make there dreams become the truth, how they dripped out upon the table with her knife across there throat.  “Are you willing to go on the record for that?” As she held up the book and started to write with the quill. “Cambion gains, compassion.” As she jotted down the notes. A chuckle leaving her for the moment, as she lifted the leg upwards, and tapped her foot once, twice and then a third time onto the ground, nothing was wrong, she was within her prime, stronger, better, faster, each and every single day, with the blood spilled and bathed within, the offerings made.

Her cult growing, her power amassing, the other two stalling as she races right ahead of them both in each and everything way possible, to soon become the one who will control the absolute themselves, along with everything that comes with it, how her mouth watered, at such an offering to her father. “Extra, extra, Cambion offers medical advice.” As she teased. “This is hardly front page news, but you, are defiantly, page three.” A jest as she looked right at them for the moment, and snapped her book closed. “This being, injured her leg, her friends know of this, hence the limp for the time being, until the right amount of time has passed for it to naturally heal and be normal again, your worrisome concerns, are flattering, but wasted.”

"I am afraid, it is not quite that."

Mizora twisted her wrist sideways and as her hand darkened into the thick, viscous blood it usually became upon teleportation, the book pages in Orin's hands caught fire. Being ablaze, the notes crumbled and smouldered in the heat, smoke rising up from the leather until only an empty book was available.

Mizora explained: "I am willing to admit that I use sympathy to my advantage when it is suitable, however, sympathy and compassion are two very different pair of shoes."

On Orin, a softer-spoken approach was wasted. She also seemed to have no weakness, concerning her own bloodlust-induced madness. The girl was so crazed in her mania, that it would be hard to convince her of anything else. Instead, it would make more sense to assimilate those views and make themselves her home. Learn how Orin thought and worked, and be in line with those ideals.

Mizora cocked her head aside as Orin explained why she was limping. Her orange eyes dropped down towards the faux-injured leg. A smile flitted across her features. "If you permit me, I would like to give it that little edge to be even more convincing." She dropped to her knees and brushed a hand across Orin's leg, casting a minor illusion and another spell upon it.

Immediately, a dull, uncomfortable, pounding pain shot up Orin's leg, prompting her to shift her gait so she was not putting her whole weight on her supposed injured leg. Outside of the phantom pain, which uncannily mimicked real pain, the changeling's leg was now covered in widespread bruises, ranging from palish yellow to deep dark purple. They gathered around the knee, in particular, and travelled down her shin and a bit up her thigh. The knee had swollen as if Orin had either fallen on it or worse knocked out her kneecap.

Mizora said: "If you are going to pretend to be an injured fool, might as well go the whole way. A limb does a lot more than just affect how you walk. It alters your stance, it changes how long you can stand. It changes the way you sleep. It does a lot of things to you, that you would do subconsciously. So even if you were to fake a limb, you would have to constantly remind yourself to do it. That little pain here is gonna do all the remembering for you."

@fallesto cont. from here.

[zoneofsmites]

for sylas: glance, canvas, armour, and bling. -@veilkeeper <3

glance: At first glance, what stands out most about your OC's appearance? What's their distinguishing feature?

It would be hard to hide that he is a tiefling wouldn't it?

Past that his most notable feature is his eyes. Two different colors, black sclera's and surrounded by pure white eyelashes.

His right eye is bright yellow and his left eye is a stark white - except for the red ring around the pupil. Both of them blaze like hot fire, the only notable sign of his Draconic bloodline.

They're quite fetching.

canvas: Does your OC have any scars, piercings, tattoos, or other markings? Do they display or cover them up at all?

Sylas is littered in scars. Most of them he does not remember recieving of course. There are nicks on his hands, stab wounds and slashes of a knife are scattered all across his body. Some marks and burns of more magical attacks. The most notable ones is the vivisection scar on his chest and the two scars on his face, a large jagged cut across his nose and cheek that healed sloppily, and a thin line where a blade was pushed into the side of his skull by his temple.

Tattoo's he also has plenty off. Forehead, neck, and arms from wrist till bicep all covered in the same dark deep red design that is meant to resemble blood. As well as a large piece of a skull and blades on his chest. The only piercings he has are in his ears - and uhhh maybe one other place :P (his dick. im talking about his dick here).

Sylas does not cover up any scars or tattoo's. Before Orin got to him they were a mark of pride, now he simply does not care - it is just how his body looks.

armor: What kind of armor does your OC wear? Is it well kept? Bonus: where does it come from? Is there a story behind it?

Sylas wears ring mail armor dyed in black and red with silver metal. He prefers the ring mail over other heavy armor because it lends him more manouverability than say, plate mail, while still lending him the protection he desires.

It was simply bought relatively early on in their journey from the shopkeep in the Grove. He has kept good enough care for it to last him troughout his whole journey, as he does for any of armor and weapons - it keeps him alive so it must be maintained.

bling: What jewelry does your OC wear? Does it have any meaning?

The only jewerly he wears are the helix' and dagger lobe piercings he woke up with. They hold a meaning he doesn't remember - a gift from one Enver Gortash, so that his favorite assassin would never be without knives.

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