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He tightens his hold around the inert Jedi in his arms, and uses the Force to leap from the metal-strewn crater and onto solid ground. Several startled soldiers turn on him, their weapons lifting, until Kira hastily waves them off. If they harbour any hesitations about obeying her direction, the Sith’s burning glare gives them plenty of incentive to fall back. As though they truly could have stood in his way. Without hesitation Scourge pushes past them, heading as swiftly as he dares for the monorail and the emergency landing platform that waits outside. He is oddly, intensely aware of his fingers digging into Caspian’s jolting body, of the Jedi’s armour scraping against his own. The way the weight of the other’s head has rolled against him, bloodied brow resting upon the Sith’s aching shoulder; and now Scourge feels a different sort of pain spasm through his tightening chest. “I have you, Jedi,” he breathes raggedly. It makes no sense, Caspian clearly cannot hear him - and yet he feels the need to say it. To reassure him. I have you. You are safe. - Fall On Me, With All Your Light

I love commissioning artists to draw scenes from my stories. This one was truly a dream commission of mine, and I finally had the chance to see it come to life under the incredible patience and skill of hifarry on dA. The colours, the atmosphere, the details - this is everything I wanted from this piece, and I am beyond ecstatic!

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a noir star wars (star noir haha) commission!

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Baldur's Gate 3

› Scenery

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@magicallulu7 Easier to answer in a new post haha

Hoo boy, so Darius is… not thrilled. Rather less than not thrilled actually xD

Darius’ first encounter with Scourge - Chapter Three of the class story, on Corellia - is extremely unfortunate. He goes to rendezvous with his little brother - whom he hasn’t seen since way before the whole Emperor’s fortress fiasco - and sees a very obvious Sith in very close proximity to Cas, and promptly shoots Scourge (or tries to). Scourge naturally retaliates, and then Cas goes into full blown panic mode trying to keep the two from killing each other.

Once he separates them, and things are explained, Darius is still all ‘Absolutely Not’ about this Jedi and Sith alliance, because he’s encountered a few Sith himself and this is NOT gonna fly. At the first opportunity, he gets Satele Shan on the holo and savagely chews her out for allowing his brother to run around with a Sith, and especially That Sith?? The one even other Sith are scared of??!!

He and Cas have a significant row following the end of the class story too, when Cas reveals that Scourge has accepted the invitation to stick around even after the Emperor’s been ‘dealt’ with. But Darius has his own problems and responsibilities, and there isn’t much he can do about this, so he just throws up his hands and leaves them to it (after several unsubtle threats about what he’ll do to Scourge if Scourge turns on Cas).

By the time Cas and Scourge ACTUALLY become romantic partners - all of them, Darius included, have been through a Time, and Darius grudgingly concedes he doesn’t have any real reason to oppose the relationship. Scourge has saved Cas’ life more times than can be reasonably counted, and his devotion to Cas is obvious. The best thing Darius will say about it is that as much as he dislikes Scourge, at least Cas is no longer paired up with Theron. (Darius despises the SIS lol)

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I am about to be so absolutely abnormal about the finished comm I just got back you have no idea

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Star Wars: The Old Republic scenery - Dromund Kaas.

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How We See In The Dark

“What good is a drow who can’t see through the dark? Who cringes from the shadows instead of becoming them?” Unsettled by the atmosphere of the Shadow-Cursed Lands, Dhamari tentatively accepts Gale's invitation to spend the night in the comfort of the wizard’s tent. But the drow feels uncertain, wary of the affections growing within him, and Gale is weighed down with darkness of his own. Seeking solace in each other's company is all well and good, but Dhamari is about to discover that becoming truly close with someone is an even more convoluted experience than he has imagined.

Gale x Ace!Tav Words: 13,700 A/N: Hurt/comfort with both angst and fluff. Spoilers through Act II. Content warnings for canon-typical violence, discussions of death, suicidal imagery, and implied abuse. I promise there's also lots of cuddling and hand holding to balance it out.

Read on AO3 (excerpt below cut)

Lost in trying to make sense of the indistinct shapes formed by the shroud of gloom overhead, Dhamari’s normally keen senses fail him. His ears give a belated twitch at the pad of nearby footsteps. He rolls quickly to one side, and sees a pair of elegantly embroidered slippers shuffling past. A curious contrast with such bleak and broken surroundings, but then, their wearer has never been one to stint on the comforts of home, even out here in the wilderness.

Gale pauses in his path, his attention caught by Dhamari’s movement. He turns, glancing down, and offers a small, tired smile to the drow - an expression that only accentuates the lines wrought on his face.

“I see I’m not the only one finding it difficult to sleep.” His voice is low, and sounds faintly distorted, as though the very air refuses to let his words pass easily through its thickened veil. “I thought I might wear myself out with a walk around camp, but instead my nerves feel more tightly wound than ever.”

Looking up at him, Dhamari experiences a quick flurry somewhere inside that has nothing to do with his readiness to jump at shadows. It’s hardly hidden anymore, how he feels about Gale - and certainly Gale has made no secret of his own attraction to the drow - but a kind of awkwardness still lingers between them, keeping them at arm’s length from each other. An uncertainty of when, and how, and what does this even mean, when they are both, in a very real sense, dead men walking; because if the parasites curled inside their heads don’t take them, then the black magic lodged within Gale’s chest surely will.

“There’s an almost tangible discomfort in the air, isn’t there?” Gale goes on. “A weight.” He glances towards the glow of the campfire, then out past the shrivelled trees, where shadows and spectres reign. “It makes you wonder if, when you close your eyes, you’ll ever manage to open them again.”

Dhamari slowly pushes himself into a sitting position. “They might as well stay closed, for all the help they’ve been,” he replies. The sullen tone of his words is mirrored on his angular face - a shallow scrunch of his aquiline nose and a slight baring of sharp teeth. “What good is a drow who can’t see through the dark? Who cringes from the shadows instead of becoming them?” 

He gives a rough shake of his head, his long ears lowering moodily. He feels uneasy here, out of place - floundering where he should be formidable. Even years spent on the surface hadn’t eradicated his instincts for navigating the Underdark, instincts that had proved vital during the party’s recent venture below-ground. But here, those same instincts feel weak, nearly ineffectual. And he does not care for it.

“Ah, but what you’re used to is the absence of light,” says Gale. He lifts a finger and then leans forward slightly, in the way he often does when he’s explaining something. “What surrounds us now is an actual presence of darkness - and a magical presence, at that. Not an obvious distinction, in many cases, but when one considers the curse that plagues this land, the difference becomes quite blatant.”

Dhamari casts a look out at the nigh-impenetrable fog, and his lips thin. “I’m not sure that makes me feel any better,” he mutters.

“Perhaps not.” Gale tilts his head as he considers the drow for another moment, then straightens up. “But as they say - and I can attest to this, emphatically - knowledge is power. Even simply knowing what it is that’s causing you such disquiet can give your mind the chance to lessen its hold, if you’ll let it.”

Dhamari pushes a sceptical tch out between his teeth, a sound remarkably reminiscent of Lae’zel. “Knowing what the problem is doesn’t make it magically disappear, Gale.”

“Alas, no,” Gale concedes, with a wry huff. “At least, not entirely.” Perhaps sensing the drow’s still-simmering discontent, he spreads a placating hand and adds, “I merely offer what wisdom I’ve gleaned from enduring many a sleepless night of my own.”

But this wisdom feels like only the feeblest of lights when compared to the shadows around them, and Dhamari does not reply. He hunches forward, tugging the single roughspun blanket higher upon his legs as another shiver passes through him. He can feel Gale’s eyes upon him still, and somehow that makes it worse - that the focus of his unversed affections should be standing there, watching him come unravelled in the darkness.

An awkward silence descends between them, thick as clinging cobwebs, until at last Gale clears his throat and speaks again.

“Of course… it can also help to have someone with you,” he ventures. “Someone to tug your mind away from your troubles.” 

He hesitates, then proceeds more carefully:

“Perhaps you and I would both find ourselves resting easier… in company?”

At this, Dhamari goes quite still. His suddenly quickened heartbeat sounds very loud to him, drowning out the eerie echoes that are filtering through the campsite. And louder still, a memory of Gale’s voice from only a day or two ago, pushing to the forefront of his mind:

“But standing at your side through such darkness and disrepair… it only makes me want you more.”

Another flurry of emotion twists through the drow; but this time, the affection that wells within him is sullied by something distinctly nervous.

He wets his lips. “In… company?” he repeats, questioning, maybe even stalling, and feeling more than ever that he is stumbling blindly through the dark. He considers his simple, narrow bedroll, then flicks a dubious look up at Gale. “You mean - here? With me?”

“That is… certainly an option,” Gale replies, with a thoughtful back-and-forth wobble of his head. But he seems to share something of the other’s doubt, because he is quick to add, “Or, if you so desire - you may also consider this an informal invitation to stroll across our camp and join me for the night. No slight intended, but I daresay that what I laughingly call my living space these days is still a tad more comfortable than a skin spread out across a rock.” His lips quirk with a rueful little smile. 

Dhamari dips his head in acknowledgement of this, even as he swallows against the mass of growing confusion that’s taking hold inside him. He and Gale have hardly shared more than fond words, bright yet bashful looks, the occasional deliberate squeeze of a hand. Once, admittedly, a bone-crushing hug on Dhamari’s part, when he’d welcomed Gale back from the dead following a disastrous encounter with an Underdark bulette, and several heartstopping minutes spent scrambling to revive the wizard in the aftermath. The ferocity of the drow’s sudden embrace had taken both of them by surprise; Dhamari can still recall Gale’s eyes going wide with startled gratitude, and then warming with a flicker of something more, as the still-cold breath of his thanks brushed past his saviour’s cheek. But Dhamari - still unsteady in his own heart, and deeply flustered - had quickly disengaged, and before he could think again Gale had drawn back, turned away, and the moment had passed.

And now - quite suddenly, it seems to Dhamari - Gale is offering the drow a place in his bed.

Dhamari’s twilight fingers grip at his blanket in trepidation. He wants to be closer to Gale - very much, in fact. So much that he’s caught himself physically drifting nearer the man as they traverse these desolate roads, until he feels the finely woven fabric of the wizard’s robes brushing against his shoulder. 

The issue is - he is not at all convinced that his definition of ‘closer’ aligns with Gale’s own. 

But when he looks up again, it is to find Gale’s hand extended out towards him, and a more earnest smile - oh, that smile - broadening the other man’s bearded lips.

“Come on,” Gale invites him, and then, softer: “Please.”

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Mycelium dreams

Sorry to @loremastering because her Daerhovan keeps being my drawing practice forever, and she mentioned him laying down to try to communicate with the mycelium network so I ran with that. He's not dead I swear!

But he is a... Fungi

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You know what trope I desperately need but never see? A traumatized character who's never had a day of comfort in their life trying to comfort one of their friends, and just failing. They're making things worse, their friend is angry, and they're confused and scared. Give me the angst in a moment that was supposed to be fluff.

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Contentment

What can I say, I woke up today and chose snuggles. Small sequel scene to my fic ‘Cover Your Crystal Eyes’.

Jedi Knight x Lord Scourge Words: 925

The first morning he wakes up next to Scourge, Cas turns a look over his shoulder, and smiles.

They must have shifted positions during the night. He remembers being settled on top of Scourge, drifting off with his head tucked beneath the other’s chin, feeling the slow swell and fall of the Sith’s broad chest beneath his cheek.

Now Scourge is a bulwark of warmth against his back, his body not so much moulded to Caspian’s as Cas is to him. One weighty arm is wrapped easily around the Jedi, his scarlet hand spread over the dark skin of Cas’ abdomen, where he can feel the steady rhythm of his partner’s breathing against his palm.

Cas studies the Sith fondly for another moment, soaking in the view, before passing an idle glance around the cabin of his ship. Early sunlight is threading itself through the narrow windows, melding with the muted glow of the gold-lit panels that border the walls and floor. With the Seeker at rest in its glade behind the Alliance base, and no other occupants aboard, the entire ship is so quiet, so calm, and the Commander is basking in it.

Sighing happily, Cas shifts himself closer against Scourge, sinking deeper into the Sith’s heavy embrace. Sleep is still dragging at his eyes and his brain, and the temptation to succumb to it again is undeniable. But there’s something to be said for savouring this as well, this liminal place between consciousness and slumber, where his entire existence has been reduced to the softness of sheets and the warmth of unyielding muscles now relaxed against him in repose.

A tiny smirk pulls at the Jedi’s lips. The irony of the situation has not escaped him; that for all the Jedi Order’s talk of finding serenity, and clarity, and peace, Cas has at last found all of this here: in the powerful, protective arms of a Sith.

Keep reading

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Finding cool old screenshots as I do a clear-out, so an edit happened

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Wyll warm up ❤️‍🔥

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Actually wrote some words on a Cas and Scourge fic I’ve had languishing in my WIPs for months, go me

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BG3. Wyll.

I love him so much. On a fannish level, I think he's my favorite.

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>>FORM<<

I am once again having a sketch sale! This sale will run until the 10th, so get your request in (via the form) by then if you want to nab one.

Rules:

SFW only

Minimal gore

Only Busts have pose WIPs

On completion, I will only make minor edits

If you have questions, you can DM me here or email me at tea.cakes1799@gmail.com Thank you preemptively for any likes and reblogs, and I hope you all have an awesome day!

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In these continued times of BG3 hyperfixation I would like to take a moment to personally remind a certain Lord Scourge that he is still so blorbo to me and I love him very much (almost as much as Cas does)

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People liking your personal OCs is still such a crazy feeling, I've been doing this for years and ppl asking about them still fills my entire heart with warmth and idk how to handle it

You enjoy this fictional guy I made up for fun?? Whose only content is random artwork or writing made by me and a handful of other artists at most? They have no show/book/game with a large fandom, it's just one person with an art blog?? I love u