#magicallives

[nikswonderland]

where the fairylike wander. ig credit: licciyoc

[freetobeeyouandme]

Reaching the 30k mark with my current wip has me like I knew this was going to be long but it's only now setting in that it's going to be long and jesus h christ fuck my life why did I decide to do this to myself again

[veiledsorrows]

        @magicalled liked for a starter-

    " Are you lost ~ ? " Called out the young witch, peeking her head out from the stranger's side - her wide, doe-like hues peering up at him. Just gleaming with curiosity.

    When the small brunette had wandered into Hogsmeade, she hadn't expected to spot someone looking so out of place. "My name is Apple! I can help you if you want! " She squeaked out with a bright smile.

[zeldasnotes]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS 28 🐚

masterlist

Someone whos into men and have Mars Square/Opposite Juno(3) might attract the complete opposite of what they are attracted to. For example someone with Scorpio Mars Square Leo Juno wants a confident, open and funny partner, but they only attract the mysterious , sneaky, obsessive kind of men. Or vice versa.

People with Lilith 3rd house 🤝 having issues with their car.

Venus Square Juno(3) 🤝 Molding their partner into what they want them to be

Ceres(1) conjunct Mars 🤝 Working out as a form of selfcare

Please check the North Node aspects in the composite chart. It can show what kind of relationship it will be.

The annoying part of 10th house placements is attracting attention from people you dont even know exist.

If you have Eros(433) Conjunct Moon synastry just know you will both remember it forever and you know what I mean by it.

Use your transits to get stuff done. I swear I never clean & exercise like I clean and exercise when Sun or Venus are transiting my 6th house.

Women with Lilith Square Moon struggle with the Madonna/Whore complex. They also feel a deeprooted need to be a part of society, have a family and be the kind of woman whos accepted. But at the same time they feel a strong need to rebel against those same things.

Moon conjunct/square/opposite Pluto needs to practice letting go. They be the ones to check a certain persons instagram everyday almost like a routine. Especially when it comes to people they dislike. An obsession with powerstruggles. Especially when the enemy is a woman.

Ive noticed that people with pluto retrogade are less obsessive.

Pisces Suns always have something innocent & youthful about their looks.

People Venus Square Ascendant in their own chart usually get into conflict with people who also have Venus Square Ascendant.

People with Jupiter conjunct personal planets can come across as arrogant even tho they are usually super friendly once you talk to them.

People with Venus Square Saturn care a lot about stability when chosing a partner. They can be very turned off by lazy people.

People with 8th house and 2nd house placements attract the most envy. If you have planets in these houses and you have social media just know that you got a lot of people watching you. I know of someone with placements there and she posted a video of herself eating at a restaurant she works at during her break. Someone called the restaurant and tried to have her fired saying shes high in the video etc(ofc she wasnt).

Mars & Moon in the 2nd house can be a real envy aspect in synastry. From what Ive seen the planet person is envious of the house person.

Sooo many people where the parents are from two different countries/cultures/religions got Sag Rising.

8th house actors are good at playing painful roles. For example Cate Blanchett.

Sag Moons wont do it if you tell them they have to.

Something Ive noticed, wont be true for everyone tho: The difference between Neptunian Venuses (Venus aspecting Neptune/Pisces Venus) and Saturnian Venuses (Saturn aspecting Venus/Capricorn Venus) is that saturnian Venus expects the same perfection from themselves as they expect from a partner while Neptunian Venuses be expecting to marry Beyonce while looking like Shrek.

Neptunian Venuses dream too much and have unrealistic and high standards. Saturnian Venuses have high standards but they are realistic. They dont want a fairytail princess bc they know it doesnt exist, they want someone who looks good on paper and they usually look good on paper themselves.

Saturnian Venuses can also be satisfied with someone who hasnt made it yet as long as they know the person is ambitious and will make it in the end, while neptune energy wants to be saved by someone who already made it.

Mars conjunct Midheaven be having a lot of public beefs. Or might be known for being a winner or ruthless. Beyonce for example got Mars in the 10th house and everyone who messed with her and Jay Z just magically disappeared from the spotlight.

© 2023 Zeldas Notes

[y0u-f4il3d-m3]

Promo

Static fills the screen as there's a few sounds in the background, followed by a voice that start to be heard.

''H...lo?'' The voice sounded like a female, it soon became clear. ''Hello? Hold on a moment, i'll get it fixed.'' It took a bit few more moment before the screen turned clear and a woman with silver hair appeared.

''There we go, now let's get to business."

''If it wasn't obvious by now i'm Mikado Sannoji, though it should come to no surprise to anyone who watched the killing game, i do hope you don't mind us taking a little... Talk. Before anything else."

@kurokuma-gang @the-real-junko-enoshima @ask-emma-magorobi @iroha-painter-missing @wwindblumee @theishimarusibs @perfect-bloodcovered-family @project-ultimate-childen @danganronpa-v3-demo-au @ask-timid-makoto-naegi @oddblogfullofoddmuses @human-monokuma @sinfu-and-magicall-painter @detective-shelf-collection (Akane) @dranother-memory @nekromania @ anyone else

[wetcatspellcaster]

Metapost: "The Ascendent"

**this is a meta for my fic, Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth, and NOT a discussion of the BG3 game canon in any way. If you try and make this into a disk-horse, I will BITE you**

(spoilers under the cut for Chapters 1-23 of Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth).

So... remember in the Chapter One endnote when I said I was a Spike/Buffy fan first, and a person second? x

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

In more seriousness, there was a number of fictional seasonings/ingredients that went into creating what I felt was the villain of a Gothic horror, and what I felt could turn the Ascendent into something that was both 'fixable', and something I enjoyed writing.

Those ingredients were:

Spike and the idea of 'soulless' vampires in the BtVS canon - do I like this conceit of BtVS worldbuilding and how it's used in the show? No. I think it often underlines how bad Whedon is at writing romance. BUT I do think it gives Buffy this free pass for which vampires she can/can't like or adopt, and I needed some of that for my protagonist. I need a 'I can fix him' moment - BtVS has those in fucking SPADES.

Howl's Moving Castle (this one was accidental, I'm still mad at myself but I can't deny it's there) - man conducts magic ritual for power, removing an essential part of himself in the process that needs to be returned

Picture of Dorian Gray (the idea of an exterior staying pristine while something hidden suffers and decays)

Curse of Strahd (the soulless in Barovia, which I mentioned in Chapter 23)

The idea of default moral alignments in D&D. I have a whole chapter arguing against this in my thesis (mostly bc it's often applied to entire races) but I was fascinated by creating a set of circumstances where I feel like a default moral alignment is valid, actually. 7,000 deaths seems like a good set up. I wanted to imagine a being that was trapped within a default moral alignment, and the laws of its very being prevent it from being good no matter what it tries, and it knows that (this kind of creates a feedback loop with the Spike/Buffy stuff)

The parts of the BG3 canon I took and REMADE (I'm stressing this throughout, I was making a horror story and a horror monster your honour):

Astarion conducts the Rite of Profane Ascension with scars on his back, but has to scar Cazador's back personally, suggesting that um... the Rite REALLY SHOULDN'T BE CONDUCTED BY SOMEONE WHO'S GOT THOSE SCARS. Cazador wasn't going to do it that way, is all I'm saying!!

The idea that Ascended!Ending Astarion is a concentrated version of certain traits that have persisted throughout his story - his flirtiness, his understanding of sex as a mechanism and expression of power, his use of a façade as a mask for trauma he refuses to acknowledge.

The lines alluding to dissociation in the brothel foursome, post-Ascension.

The idea that Astarion seduced Tav to survive or protect himself- in my case, because I made the Ascendent empty save for Astarion's survival instinct, the idea that he would gravitate towards Tav as one of his default modes to potentially survive made sense to me - this is why it becomes an obsession.

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

For me, when writing, the Ascendent is a few things:

An intensification of vampirism in a different, fucked-up direction. Yeah, A!Astarion, you can walk in sunlight and you can eat and drink and don't need blood. But you are still a hungering maw of emptiness that feels like it will never be whole or close and connected to the living - just now in a wildly different, metaphysical/existential direction! Welcome to depression, alienation, and otherness!

A soulless being, that knows it is soulless - that initially was very happy with its life but then as the years passed, increasingly spends its every waking moment knowing there is something innately wrong with it that it can't seem to shake, no matter how much it engages with life and all the pleasures of life. (see the 'every meal without savour' speech)

A magically literal metaphor for Astarion's dissociation in moments of extreme trauma, up to and including the fight with Cazador - essentially, the moments when there is nothing but a performance or an exterior, because the self/soul are suffering and they cant' come to phone right now

Astarion's survival instinct. As I say in Chapter 23 - Mephistopheles thinks it is an empty body, who's performance is trying to deny the reality of it's own existence. Rosalie, who has a bit more understanding of Astarion, sees that the performance is not just a coping mechanism but one of Astarion's main modes of survival. The Ascendent is Astarion's survival instinct/techniques for endurance, without any soul or person behind them to protect. This is how I tried to tie in the flirty, hypersexual persona and wrap it with a bow.

I wanted a monster that was undeniably scary, and monstrous to me (oh? you can't fit in or be happy no matter what you do and no matter how hard you try, and you think there's something intrinsically off? how's that autism diagnosis going Emma) but that I also felt sympathy and true sorrow for. I needed to have motivations for him chasing after Tav that I could write meaningfully from and sympathise with.

Not only has Astarion used Tav as a life-raft once before, they've also proven to be the most secure thing he's ever clung to. Of course a rabid survival instinct Astarion would become obsessed, and see them as a potential solution to the problem (this was then intensified by Rosalie also being a walking, overbearing moral compass, and having bound him in a contract in the first week of living, accidentally - a lawful good immoveable objects meets a default moral alignment unstoppable force.)

...Because I also wanted that moral alignment spice!! Wizards of the Coast, default moral alignment is fucked up actually!!! Imagine something trying so desperately to be good - literally being bound in a pact and having been told to be good - but the laws of the universe and its very essence are like "nah mate, we kind of want to destroy and annihilate everything, we're neutral evil personified". That's scary!! that's fucked up!! that's what a birth from 7000 deaths gets you!!!

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧

So, now for the actual timeline, for people who aren't interested in my silly musings but mostly just want answers lmfao.

Rosalie makes the decision not to intervene in Cazador's mansion, making it seem like she'll support whatever decision Astarion will make there.

Rite of Profane Ascension happens. Astarion conducts the ritual, rips his own soul from his body, the Ascendent is born with literally zero context. Mephistopheles is fucked in Cania, because a bunch of stuff has just gone wrong.

(oh, by the way, the Ascendent knows Infernal as a default language. Bc it's born from an Infernal rite.)

The Ascendent is now default neutral evil, and feeling some kind of way. Rosalie and him break up. He's supposed to have everything, but the one thing he thought was a done deal - his most stalwart suppporter - just rejected him.

Netherbrain defeat (the Ascendent is not invited. Imagine being an all-powerful, hypersexual survival instinct vampire, and your ex-girlfriend neither wants you for sex, nor your power.)

Rosalie accidentally binds the Ascendent (a soulless devil) in a pact demanding that he never kill anyone, when that's literally what the Ascendent's new existence/new default moral alignment is driving him to do. Then, she fucks off and goes into hiding.

Well. The Ascendent can just get another wizard, to help him learn all of Cazador's secrets to cope [Hemlock is recruited].

The years go by! The Ascendent is doing sooooo well. Everything is great, guys! I'm rich, I'm beautiful, I have lavish parties and lots of sex - why do I feel nothing? I'm a vampire perfected - I have no hunger for blood, I can walk in the sun, I can enjoy all the freedoms of a living, breathing man - why do I feel like I'm starving? Why does everything turn to ashes in my mouth? I have friends - oops, I've sabotaged all those friendships with my innate neutral evil destruction. Why can't I feel anything? What's wrong with me? I'm doing everything right? Why doesn't it feel that way?

Also, I can't kill anything to feel better about it, because my hidden ex-girlfriend bound me in a pact.

In this time, to reflect the gradual degradation of the Ascendent's happiness and it's increasing awareness that it is something Other and innately wrong, the reflection starts going weird. Starts going strange. Starts getting a bit fucked up. Almost as if, when he looks in the mirror and sees a person, *nothing* should be what's there. Imagine being a spawn who couldn't see your reflection, and then a vampire who could see it's reflection, but knows that they're innately empty. Knows there's nothing there. I'd freak out a little bit about it as well tbh, I'd go a bit tooth and claw and elongated jaw about it.

The Ascendent finally admits that's there must be something kinda fucked about it. Life just ain't working out, lads. He starts looking for any and all impossible cures that will help with the malaise in his soul (and that innate essence problem, caused by default moral alignment). These include: more bad decisions, such as a house in Cania bc the Ascendent is hoping he'll feel more at home with devils than he does with mortals. All it does is make him feel more isolated and alone.

But eventually, he settles on two things! - Wish (Hemlock's idea), and Rosalie (the Ascendent's idea). Clearly, we just need Rosalie back! Her leaving is actually what fucked him up in the first place - none of this existential bullshit! She fixed us one, she can fix us again.

But looking for Rosalie hasn't worked out. In order to get a shot at her, the Ascendent goes and bargains for his own soul from Mephistopheles. Mephistopheles, adding a new sheet in excel titled 'what the fuck happens when i give this soulless monster a soul to play with?', agrees and starts tracking his new data.

Obviously, just putting the soul back in yourself will fix you. But the Ascendent, the nothingness living inside Astarion's body, will die. Taking the soul back would erase itself. The Ascendent - who is survival instinct personified - would never do this.

So instead, it starts interviewing and cannibalising the soul. Bc a soul is what it needs, this is the closest it's ever felt to being alive. Bc it's made this all about Rosalie, he thinks he's found his solution. The chase is making him feel alive again. It's true love, lads! not the soul.

Wish auction happens - the Ascendent is beaten to the punch by some unknown (hot) wizard.

This avenue cut off, the Ascendent makes the decision to try and win Rosalie back.

Astarion advises that to make her come back to the Gate, he should murder a bunch of people. Because this comes from the soul, not the soulless devil nothingness, it circumvents the pact.

...The events of Pieces begin!

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧

And finally - the Ascendent tries to destroy Jar!Starion for many reasons in Chapter 19:

The Ascendent knows that it dies, if the soul and the body get reunited (or is that constant high alert survival instinct just no longer needed, because the problem is fixed? you decide.)

The Ascendent values Tav above itself. Tav is going to fix them. Astarion believes he could never fix himself.

Dissociation - that soul isn't me. I'm here, looking at my soul. If I get too close, it'll kill me.

Self-hatred - that soul isn't me. That man made a mistake, and I've had to live with the consequences. He doesn't deserve to live, for what he's made me become.

The knowledge that Rosalie/Tav will only ever want that version of him, not the one that's living and breathing, that sees itself as the most wretched, fucked-up version of itself. So... give them no choice. They have to deal with me and love me at my worst.

And if the Rite didn't work - if the version of the Ascendent walking around isn't the best one, and the one people want... what was it all for? Why does the Ascendent feel like this? Why does it have to suffer?

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧

....And, that's my little meta post! If anyone has any questions about the timeline or any motivations at any points in the fic, I'm obviously more than happy to explain things via ask/comment, as always!

TLDR: I just wanted to make a Gothic horror. I wanted a dark romance, fucked up obsession vampire/mortal dynamic, but I also wanted a situation that was scary for both Astarion and my Tav. I personally think an Astarion who is so dissociated and separate from reality that he feels that in his bones daily, is scary. It's the lingering impact of the traumas the Rite and those 7,000 souls embodied.

I was literally just trying to make it a horror, for everyone involved.

[jasxier]

As much as I ove the idea of Jaskier pining for Geralt for the entirety of his adult life, I am equally fascinated by the idea of Jaskier being totally oblivious to the fact that Geralt is in love with him. 

And so I give you this. Imagine the two of them having a “bonding time” around the campfire and Jaskier asks “what’s your type?” and Geralt is delighted!

J: Ok, i want you to answer this one, please, you suck at this game, really. What’s your type? When it comes to people.. we’re NOT talking about horses! G: Hmm.. J: I won’t take any hmms as a valid answer G: I was thinking! J: Yeah right *gets a kick as a result, that bastard deserved it probabbly* G: Well, soft skin..soft hair J: Good, at least we’re talking about humans this time, good! G: *killer stare but goes on bcs he’s so amused by the situation* Warm skin, inviting arms.. J: *delighted* Geralt!! I didn’t know you knew so many words! G: *tries his best to hide a smile* Moving on!!! hA, you’re gonna love this one.. Big tits! J: Oh yes, you’re right *stares longingly into the flames* G: Broad shoulders.. J: That’s quite unusual, I must admit, but with the right choice of clothing everything is possible G: Chestnut long-ish hair, *looks at the back of J’s neck* yeah, reaching the neck J: Cool, cool, i can totally picture her! You want me to compose a little something about this magicall lady? G: I’m not done yet.  J: Oh, sorry! Do go on! G: As tall as me.. J: *is bewildered* i don’t remember seeing you with a lady this tall. In fact, i don’t remember ever meeting a woman as tall as me! Though I would be OHOHO SO PLEASED TO MEET HER! G: Back to our topic! Hmmm, ah... small pouty mouth that never shuts up. J: That’s oddly specific but go on! G: *is having the time of his life* Blue eyes, beautiful long fingers . J: *stares at the void then his hands then at the void again* G: Has an incomparable singing voice.. J: Waaiit... G: Plays a lute J: *surprised picachu face* Fuck! aaand they kiss..

[funpuddle]

i went to a gay furry night club this month it was magical magical magicall

[canniboyi]

𖹭 【 🪦🎀 Magical ghost girl NPTs — req by @spookelle

🪦 】 Names :

Alice , Alora , Wraith , Amia , Amika , Amor , Karita , Sophia , Evelina , Deathette , Magicalle , Dorothea , Lucy , Elisabetta , Pandora

🎀 】 Pronouns :

shy / hyr / hyrself , gem / gems / gemself , gloom / glooms / gloomy , glim / glimmer / glimerself , kyuu / kyuus / kyuuself , shine / shiny / shinyself , magic / magical / magicalself , dae / daem / daemself , haunt / haunts / haunting , death / deaths / deathself , bow / bows / bowself , pretty / pretties / prettyself , transform / transforms / transformself , lace / laces / laceself , cemetry / cemetryies / cemetryself , darl / darling / darlingself , corpse / corpses / corpseself

🪦 】 Titles :

The Magical Girl Who Died , Haunting Of An Magical Girl , The Ghostly Magica , [x] Who Wishes To Never Be An Magical Girl , The Ghost Of The Magical Girl , [x] Who Is Cutest Magical Girl Who Haunts , The Ghost Covered In Laces & Bows

x : can be changed to any prn

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics that involve racing of any kind as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

—Louis/Harry—

🏁 pray for some sweet simplicity by delsicle / @eeveelou

(E, 237k, motorcycle racing) an AU where motorcycle racing is the biggest sport in a heavily divided world, Louis is trying to take control of his own destiny, and Harry is in for more than he bargained for.

🏁 Something In The Distance (So Close You Can Almost Taste It) by magicalou

(T, 180k, F1) Louis is a Formula 1 driver for Scuderia Ferrari and Harry is a painter and sculptor, one of the most beloved from our time, and Louis's biggest pain in the ass.

🏁 The Finish Line (Is A Good Place For Us To Start) by LoadedGunn

(E, 121k, F1) The first thing Louis does is take him under his wing. From there it’s nine months of slow-burning romance, the past catching up to them, turning into the human puppy pile that is OT5 and a lot of feelings until, of course, reaching the finish line.

🏁 run away home by @hattalove

(E, 106k, horse racing) louis is a successful jockey down on his luck, struggling to get his life back on track after an injury. harry has a horse, a house fit for a prince, and a broken heart.

🏁 Counterbalance by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(E, 44k, motorcycle racing) Harry Styles loves two things: teaching ballet and racing motorcycles. Those two worlds collide when his greatest rival on the track, Louis “Tommo” Tomlinson brings his tiny siblings to Harry’s class.

🏁 My Saddle's Waiting by @realitybetterthanfiction

(E, 28k, street racing) When Harry finds himself in charge of Ford's installation at the Chicago Auto Show, there's already a lot on the line. Little does he know that a seemingly harmless bet on the fastest pony car might just up the stakes even more.

🏁 Ten Second Car by orphan_account

(E, 14k, street racing) AU in which Harry goes undercover to catch illegal street racers robbing rigs and instead falls in love with the bad guys brother. Based off of The Fast & The Furious (2001)

🏁 You Made A Slow Disaster Out Of Me by lzcatalina / @harryandlouisarehappilystrong

(E, 13k, street racing) Louis was the king of illegal street racing who rarely lost, Harry was the newcomer who beat him in the first race and nearly ran him over.

🏁 kings of the castle by orphan_account

(M, 4k, horse racing) harry is the son of architects who bet on horse races and louis is the prettiest jockey he might've ever seen in all his betting years.

—Rare Pairs—

🏁 Slow Me Down by @justonebreathx

(E, 55k, Niall/Harry) the one where Harry is a NASCAR driver down on his luck until he meets Niall and suddenly everything in his life is right again.

🏁 Trip And Fall On Me by @fluffypiecake

(M, 38k, Zayn/Harry) You don't do what you're told. Bend and break, bend and break.

🏁 (dressed in black) from head to toe by soundingawkward

(G, 3k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) nick hates the mud and the cold and all things about this stupid dirt bike rally, except for one muddy, grotty, dirt bike riding boy.

[sshoukinokamii]

" You've changed. You're getting weak. "

Promotion.

Silence. Nothing but the absolute silence of the huge dome <muse> had decided to take shelter in from the rain.

Silence... That was, until <muse> stumbled upon a room. Opening the door as quietly as possible, an interesting scene comes into sight. A young man with short hair was suspended in the air by tubes flowing with purple, sparkling liquid. That liquid seemed to be slowly emptying into his back, but there was no evidence from that far away. Out of nowhere, the door closes behind <muse> and a laugh sounds out. After looking up again, the purple-haired was nowhere to be seen... Until <muse> was knocked out.

" Hey, now. Are you alright? " The young man was looking down into their eyes with a concerned tone. He had a huge hat on, which he held with a pale hand.

" You fainted out of nowhere. I was a bit surprised when you came in. I don't usually get visitors without a notice. "

An easy facade to create. His eyes showed no other emotion at all... Which was comforting. Someone to be completely concerned about you...

But what you don't know is that it's all an act now, do you, <Muse>? You can't see through such a lie... How pathetic.

Found on Zerochan.

Akasha pulses, the Kalpa flame rises.

Tagging @the-flowerdemon, @orchidsinmylungs, @mikado-sannoji, @cursetopia (to make up for the tanjiro one because i'm not sure when that's leaving hiatus), @lamarlemieux//@human-monokuma, @sinfu-and-magicall-painter, @little-miss-succubus, @boyakishantrio-beta.

[501st-rexster]

I'll Never Leave You

Cody X GN Reader

Fluff, severe injury, angst/comfort, sweet

WC: 1320

Word is the 212th finally returned! Only problem is, the other word is that Commander Cody was severely wounded. You can't bear to lose the man you owe your life.

As you run down the hall of the medical facility, you think back to only a short while ago, when you had received the news that Cody had come back from the front lines.

“The Commander is back?! That’s great!” You exclaimed with joy, but it immediately melted away at the expression on Thorn’s face.

“No one told you?” He wondered quietly.

Your eyebrow rose. “Told me what?”

Thorn bit his lip, then you caught the words of a few passing clones. 

“Thank the Force the 212th got back in time.”

“Yeah. I think the Commander’s stable now, but I’m not positive.”

“I’m just glad he’s alive.”

Your gaze snapped to Thorn. “What are they talking about?! What happened to Cody?!” You demanded, but Thorn took your shoulder and squeezed it gently.

“You should go see him yourself. He’ll… he’ll need you now more than ever. I know how much my little brother adores you, and if anyone can make him feel better, it'll be you.”

So now you’re running, ignoring everyone who waves or offers a kind hello, only thinking the worst. Cody is hurt. You have no idea how bad, but if Thorn’s reaction was any clue…

You can’t handle anything happening to him. He’s the only person who understands you, who has been there for you no matter what, who cares for you in a way no one else ever has. Since you two first met, he’s been like a bright shining spot of hope, not just from his sunburst armor. When he’d found you that day in the lower levels, scrounging for food, and he’d held out his hand and offered to buy you a meal, you felt a sense of compassion you’d never known before. When you began to get to know each other when he would come and visit, you’d never been happier. The first time he ever kissed you under the flickering light of a street lamp and told you he loved you, that was euphoria. Cody was the one to help you escape the depressive hell you were living, helped you to get a job at the Guard as a records keeper, helped you to earn respect and know friendship and love.

You owed him everything.

And now, who knows how badly he was hurt. If you'd ever be able to feel like that again.

Finally you reach the patient rooms and scan each one quickly, then a shout from down the hall brings your head up to see the frantically waving arm belonging to Wooley. Sprinting down to meet him, he immediately engulfs you in a hug when you reach him. You gladly embrace him; he’s always felt as a little brother to you, and he was the first one to find out about the relationship between you and Commander Cody. He had promised to keep your secret and you thank him for it every day.

When you draw back, you shake your head. “Wooley, what’s going on? I heard Cody is-”

“Yeah. He’s hurt. It… It’s bad, burc’ya. But he is awake, and I think he’ll be glad to see you.” Wooley informs you. “He can tell you about what happened. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you two,” he winks. You shove him playfully then enter the room with a heavy heart.

The door hisses shut behind you and the sight of Cody, pale and motionless, wrapped in bandages in the hospital bed breaks something inside of you.

“Cody…” The name is barely a broken whisper as you walk to his bedside, then a small hum escapes his lips as they turn up in a smile.

“I was wondering when you were gonna visit.” His voice is gravelly, strained, but his now open eyes shine as he looks at you. “Mesh’la. You’re just as radiant as the last time I saw you-”

“What did you do?!” You cry, looking at all the bandages covering his chest, arms, presumably his legs, and neck, then your breath leaves you as Cody shrugs and holds up his right arm to reveal from his elbow down is missing, just an upper arm wrapped in bandages. “Cod’ika…”

Cody scoffs with a grin. “Eh, that’s nothing. I mean, it’s not gonna magically grown back but hey, maybe I’ll get a cool robot arm or some-”

Your hands on his cheeks drag his gaze back to you. “What. Did. You. Do.” You make sure your voice holds the tone of seriousness that Cody knows not to lie to.

Sure enough, the Commander’s face falls flat. He takes a deep breath. “The mission didn’t exactly go as planned.”

A hard sigh escapes your lips and gritted teeth. “YEP. I can see that.”

“Look, it’s not like I was trying to be thrown off that fekking cliff-”

“YOU GOT THROWN OFF A CLIFF?!”

“Not on purpose! And it wasn’t so much thrown as fell…”

“CODY.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I was doing my best to distract Grievous while Kenobi tried to get the upper hand. He managed a few hits at me, his claws tore right through my armor,” his hand moves to his chest and the bloodied bandages that cover it. “And when I went to lunge, well, one of his lightsabers came down and…” Cody lifts what’s left of his right arm. “Boil found me. Told me Kenobi had seen me fall after Grievous sent me stumbling off the edge and immediately sent him after me. I didn’t even realize I’d broken my leg until I tried to stand, that’s when I felt my cracked ribs and the blood.” He sighs heavily before meeting your eyes. “I’m sorry, cyare. I should have commed you on the way back, I wanted to but Kenobi had me put under for the flight so I could remain stable.” 

Cody takes your hand and pulls you close. “Look at me.” You meet his eyes, the brown shining like Corellian Rum, and he smiles softly. “I am never going to leave you, you understand me? No matter how battered I get, no matter what baddie beats me down next, I’m always going to come right back to you. I will never let you be alone again.”

You manage to hold back the tears and rub his cheek with your thumb, leaning forward to press against his forehead in a keldabe. “You’re going to give me so much stress, cyar’ika. But I wouldn’t take you for anyone but who you are.”

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you connect in a kiss, and Cody smiles as the tenseness in your body melts away just at the touch of his hand on the small of your back. He pulls you closer, up onto the bed with him. “I’ll always be here for you, love. No matter what. Hell, if they decommission me because of this, I’m not leaving you. They can try to ship my sheb back to Kamino but I am never leaving your side.” He closes his eyes and turns on his side, holding you as if you’re the air he needs to breathe. 

A smile crosses your face. “Well, I hope you don’t mind having a roomie for the foreseeable future because I am not leaving this room until you’re healed up.”

“Not even if I ask you to get us those burritos we love from that small little food stand in Level Seven?” Cody asks in a whiny, childlike voice and you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, I will get you whatever you want, but then I’m coming right back. For now, though,” you manage to kick off your boots and snuggle down under the covers with him. “I just want to be with you. Feel you, knowing you’re alive.”

Cody’s hand moves to rub the back of your head, slowly and tenderly. “I’m alive. I’m right here, mesh’la. Just having you here… is better than anything.”

[a-library-of-old]

Hello! I love your writings and I was wondering if you could do one for Jack with a baker that has like an obvious crush on him? Thank yoou :)

Of course! Though because I already have a sudo set ig it's called? Of one where he knows and just teases and tortures the heck outta the reader I'll make this one different in he immediately is also down bad. Sorry if you hoped for something more like the others^^"

Similar to the other one Jack knows immediately and tests your bravery about the situation

Testing your pies the most often, making you do the most fetch quests through out the factory for him, and over all adding himself to your days as often as possible for teasing you

Now with this said he slowly starts to feel something Stir within himself during these teases of his

The smile and mini celebration you do every time he likes your batches, waiting with the most baited of breaths to hear such news of course, and always coming back with exactly what he asked so quickly

Not to mention you handle all these added responsibilities of his with such ease even if it took you a bit to get used to it or if immediately you took these things with grace

He starts to feel almost impressed? No something much more he hasn't really felt before

Not to mention the way the bakers outfit compliments you? Or seeing more of your figurw during late night meeting where you've abandoned it for more casual clothes underneath.

He starts to find himself staring for longer, getting more excited to see you, feeling his heart race and face heat up almost from your smiles and 'yes Mr. Horner's

But surly the great and Big Jack Horner isn't falling in *LOVE* for one of his bakers right?

The magicall item he has just for this says otherwise however....fuck.

Sure people liking him in such a way wasn't new to Jack but him liking them back??? Unheard of! Surly you posses some sortve magic and have used it against him!

So he of course calls you into his office for a other late night meeting right? Wrong! He accuses you of such nefarious actions as forcing him to love you! His face red as he speaks because no the absurdity isn't lost on him, and finger pointing madly at you

After this great yelling he offers you to keep your position if you give up your magic or tell him how you've done this

Cut to you half sinked in your chair beat red from the face down because Jack Horner likes you back!?!

It's gonna take some convincing to get him to understand you didn't use magic on him or anything but once he understands? Well work just got a whole lot nicer for you!

[omgkalyppso]

WIP Whenever

Finished Astarion's personal quest last night and have started a WIP to do it my way. Spoilers below the cut. And 2k words. I just couldn't wait to share this with whoever.

warnings for gore and maybe unreality and regular vampire behaviour

I want Astarion to become a vampire. I want the Szarr Siblings to devour Cazador. I thought that Mephistopheles should have shown up OR Raphael and that this would have been a good moment to get the player to doubt Raphael as a liar and actually have been the source of Cazador's information. But instead of having either of them show up, because I haven't beat the game and might still like Raphael at the end, I am instead throwing Kanchelsis (god of vampires, located in the Abyss) into the mix. I want to write Astarion stabbing (and biting) Cazador in preface to this, I need to correct the writing I'm about to share, and probably add a bunch of like Perspectives, maybe. And I want Étoile and Astarion to talk about / argue about vampirism.

.

“Is… Is it over?”

Dalyria's gentle voice washed over Astarion, shaming him in his grief. Quickly and quietly he yearned for her death so that he could be alone with his pain, even despite knowing she shared it. He hissed through his teeth, catching his breath as he resisted shoving his fingers into the holes the dagger had wrought through Cazador's chest.

Was it over? Would he ever be sure?

“No.”

Astarion grimaced as he watched his siblings approach. His head flickered away from them and back, unable to stand the sight, unable to deny them absolution. Gravely, he declared as he stood, “Drink from him. If you like, if you can.”

Pale Petras was racing forward as if unleashed by the offer. Leon and Violet shared a pained glance. Yet all descended upon Cazador like ravenous wolves— like a hoard of vampires, as Astarion continued to speak half under his breath, half delirious in shock.

“Just a mouthful. Just a drop. Before— Before he rots and curdles like his affection. Before he grows to ash like his fucking mendacious promises. Drink, as he would drink from you.”

While his companions looked on in horror and curiosity, Astarion watched unseeing, disassociating from the impossible sight of Cazador laid low.

Angry, desperate clawing hands tore flesh and clothing as the vampire spawn fought to devour their late Master. Their fingers twisted in his broken body, in his eyes and in his innards, cruelly grasping for a fraction of the euphoric vengeance that their brother Astarion, had managed to claim only moments ago.

Étoile wished to reach out, to touch Astarion and to reassure him, but didn’t want to demean him in front of his rivals and siblings. They were still unclear about the culture of strength among vampires, and what were displays weakness, and when those displays were acceptable. The thought that they must have all consumed worse than a vampire-lord-a-few-moments-dead flipped around in Étoile’s stomach, numbing them to the grotesquery on display.

It was subtle at first, but steadily neither the vampire spawn nor the adventurers could ignore that the overpowering smell of blood and death, was being overtaken by the scent of sulfur. It was sharp and jarring and repugnant, and soon all eyes were being cast around in fear as the vampire spawn released the gore that had been Cazador.

Fires leaped around the edge of the ritual platform, and as the vampire spawn retreated further from the flames, Cazador’s corpse burst into radiant orange as well.

“Mephistopheles?” Étoile wondered aloud.

“Shit,” Astarion cursed in answer. Instantly he felt returned to himself, made sensate by the threat of infernal retribution. He looked to Aurelia and explained, “It is from the Archdevil that Cazador learned of the ritual. Perhaps it was to him that the sacrifices were intended to—”

As quickly as they’d roared to life, the fires quieted to nothing, sputtering into air and ether. The atmosphere rang with emptiness, beyond the squelched flames; not Silenced magically, but muffled as if by the will of the profane.

All who were present felt their ears pop and their perception twist, as a ghoulish miasma instantly filled the space and cast everything in a pale silver glow.

If a portal phased in and out of the plane before them, it was for the heartbeat of a second, in a flash of darkness and horror. It felt to Lae’zel like looking into the darkness between the stars. It felt to Wyll like looking beneath a bed, and somehow knowing you were looking into the endless maw of a monstrosity. To Étoile, it felt like looking up from within a well, with no hope of rescue. Astarion however, saw in the emptiness what he had always felt in Cazador’s gaze. The familiarity of the sensation did not ease its discomfort.

Whether the sign of the figure’s arrival was real or imagined or beyond their ken, now a man stood before them. The miasma had not faded with the flash of darkness, and it blurred and distorted the man’s edges. It spread his smile a little too wide, perverted his stature so that his height was impossible to discern, and warped the reds of his eyes so they drew one in like the flame to a moth. He was beautiful, with curled ears and long silver hair bound and impeccably imperfect, with strands loosened and caught in his braid. Some strands framed his elegant and unsettling visage, like flowers upon a grave, or the crimson stripes on the deadliest spiders.

Étoile felt their soul quiver in peril. They knew him for what he was, and so had lost their tongue to speak it.

The stranger turned his gaze on Astarion and Astarion’s desire to consume filled him like no emptiness he’d ever felt before. He could weep and bowl over and bite and beg. It disgusted him, triply so when the stranger smiled, and the sweetest release of vampiric hunger rushed his senses though no blood passed his lips.

Astarion barely had time to process that the stranger was lauding him.

“Astute, my young vampire.” His eyes drifted across into the darkness upon nothing or presences unseen, and Astarion held his throat warily as the stranger spoke on, “The souls of seven thousand and seven vampire spawn, promised to the Archdevil Mephistopheles to fuel the birth of a Vampire Ascendant.”

The stranger’s gaze drifted over each of the vampire spawn before him, and the others cringed as Pale Petras whimpered, “Please.”

Unperturbed, the stranger said with finality, “Souls which are rightly mine. For exultation. For condemnation. For apotheosis.” He raised a hand and all attention shifted from his gaze, bringing a smile to the stranger’s lips. “You need not worship me, and I will be your God regardless.” His slender fingers had the vampire spawn transfixed, but this sentence broke the attention of the others, watching nervously as this being of riveting power teased his audience with the promise of touch. “Your souls do not belong to the Hells.”

With a grimace, the stranger folded his arms together and declared, “Though they did belong to Cazador, for a time. No longer. A relief I’m sure, and a boon to me now that you are not bound for another plane. This is where you belong. Your longing, your power, your hunger. All fuel me, your Lord Kanchelsis.”

As he sucked in a nervous breath, Astarion recalled all he knew of the god of vampires — or rather, as he quickly recalled, the demi-god who claimed dominion over vampires. Kanchelsis was once a vampire risen to the level of a god, and with that in mind Astarion wondered how close a Vampire Ascendant would be to Kanchelsis’ power, which radiated off of him, and whether this influenced The Rake’s gratitude in their halting of the ritual.

Could he have been a God, if the moment hadn’t passed? Could he still?

“I know you only as Cazador’s spawn, Patricide.”

Kanchelsis did not phrase it as a question, and nor was it a command which compelled Astarion to speak, but the demi-god’s meaning was not lost to him, and there was no fight left in him after Cazador’s defeat. No more fight than a fleeting reactionary expression of disgust towards being equated to Cazador’s son and creation.

“I am Astarion,” he said, tight lipped and unyielding. With a grimace, Astarion realized that no amount of instinctual reverence could force him to address Kanchelsis with respect — not ‘my lord,’ nor by title. He would not trade one master for another.

“Astarion,” Kanchelsis repeated, slowly, as if committing it to some great memory. More than that a body such as this could hold. Then Kanchelsis tilted his head and smiled again, and Astarion felt some of his siblings dare once more to breathe.

“You’ve done well with them,” Kanchelsis declared, and despite the cryptic nature of the statement, Astarion’s posture tightened for fear of Étoile, the fool Oathbreaker Paladin who stood not ten feet away, but if Kanchelsis’ gaze found Étoile it was transitory, as the lord of vampires continued to admire the grizzly tableau that had been Cazador’s ritual.

“When I go,” Kanchelsis said to Astarion, “I will take knowledge of the ritual with me. For your part in putting it back into obscurity, I will offer you a boon. Not for you to demand, of course, but for you to deny if it does not suit you. The ability to sustain yourself on the denizens of the Nine Hells. To command them with no more difficulty than the average person. You have already made an enemy of Mephistopheles, and it is only by my power that he has not come now. One day, whether the next, or in ten thousand, he will find you for this. The power I offer will not save you, but… It may have its uses, by then.”

“A boon?” Astarion confirmed. “Not a trade or a … an accord?”

“If it was ever such an exchange, as I say, you have completed your side of the pact,” Kanchelsis agreed, amused.

Astarion’s gaze drifted to the earth for a moment, considering. He asked, “And I would still be able to drink mortal blood? There isn’t exactly an infernal invasion on which to gorge myself.”

“Yes,” Kanchelsis said, dark and eager. “You are a vampire now Astarion, or will be, after a rest. No longer a spawn after drinking of your former Master.” His unholy eyes shone with promise and Astarion swallowed his discomfort. “You may drink, and turn, and ruin as many men, women and children as the Material Plane can house. It is only through this that we are joined. Only by this that I might empower you.”

“Then yes,” Astarion conceded, leaning forward in his unexpected enthusiasm, nearly falling forward in his exhaustion. “This sounds … most agreeable.”

Besides Mephistopheles, Astarion wondered about Karlach’s warning of Raphael, and more, any time spent with his companions was almost guaranteed to drag them closer to Zariel and the rest of the Hells. Kanchelsis was at least correct in his assertion that the Infernal Realms were no place for a vampire. A vampire. He was…

After so long, he was soon to have the powers that Cazador flaunted by his very being. He could … accomplish so much. Rival the Absolute, not in concept but in power, raising the dead and the inept in masses to fight this cult for the city of Baldur’s Gate, for control. Only, there was no time to amass power of that nature, and no means to control what could otherwise have been seven-thousand soldiers at his command from Cazador’s dungeons.

Astarion was pulled from his thoughts as Kanchelsis stretched the nail at the end of his index finger across the length of its twin on his opposite hand. Astarion scoffed, realizing that even with their gods, that everything to do with vampires was in the blood.

He hazarded a look to his companions and found them too contemplative, and with nothing of their horror from earlier. It was vindicating that even the ultimate of his kind, the vampire lord Kanchelsis, was less abhorrent than Cazador had been.

Kanchelsis rolled the side of his finger over the side of Astarion’s already bloodied lips, blooming a new, inescapable sensation over his person as he licked his lips, accepting the droplet and the boon. It was exactly what it was. Drinking the blood of some unholy god. Not that Astarion was fool enough to believe he could survive the drinking of the blood of a holy god. Lathander at least would render him to ash.

“Exquisite,” Kanchelsis declared, and Astarion couldn’t tell whether he was being complimented or if there had been some other aspect of their exchange that Kanchelsis was commenting upon.

With a wave of his hand Kanchelsis called upon Cazador’s dungeon, expunging its secrets and siphoning its magic. Runes, increasingly hard to decipher, floated and danced around Kanchelsis’ bloodied fingers, but his expression remained impassive as he left his audience with a parting credo, “In Darkness. In Blood. In Glory.”

[germsiren]

youre sad and magicall.. he says you’re beautiful i think you’re beautiful too…

[waldwasser]

📂!

[TUMBLR DID NOT SEND ME A NOTIFICATION FOR THIS I'M SORRY!!!]

Susumi spent most of ARR & HW scared of Y'Shtola, because... Y'Shtola is smart. And she has no problem calling stupid people out and putting them in their place. Susumi is not all that smart, or well educated, especially in the realm of magic and magicall science. So she felt she was somewhat in danger on that front, and tried her best to not draw Y'Shtola's attention.

It took Susumi until Stormblood to understand that Y'Shtola uses her sharp tongue not indiscriminately, but rather to take stupid people pretending to be clever, and those that cling to faulty arguments to uphold their beliefs and power, down a peg. Since she falls into neither of those categories, she's safe... or as safe as any of the Scions are from Y'Shtolas occasional barbs, at any rate :'D