#many swears

[lanafofana]

Bereft

The missing angst fest we were deprived of in the Temple of Bhaal. Astarion x Female Durge. Much cursing.

The temple of Bhaal is silent. The companions stand in shock.

Denial is the first to crash into his chest. It slithers out of his throat without his permission. “No!” It’s a broken, confused whisper that curls around the hearts of those who hear it and twists. 

Astarion’s vision tunnels and all he can see, all he can smell is the body of his lover lying in a pool of her own blood. Divine, cursed, sticky blood, reclaimed by a selfish, jealous, unholy father. 

He goes to move forward, sucking in a shaky breath. There is only one obvious answer here, it’s not real. None of it. It’s a trick. A lie. It has to be. 

He has to see, he has to touch, he has to make sure. 

Out of the corner of his eye he sees movement, a hand, an arm, something, someone reaching out to him. To stop him. 

“Get away from me!” He snarls, and he darts out of reach. The sudden movement spurs him forward and he collapses to his knees before…before…

His hands hover over a chest that does not expand and he makes an aborted noise between a moan and a wail. It lodges in his throat, choking him. 

The eyes do not flutter, the lips do not crack, the heart does not beat. 

Anger surges. “Get up, damn you!” His voice is hoarse,  threaded with something he can’t look at directly or he’ll splinter apart. He sucks in a breath through gritted teeth and tries again. “GET. UP!” He shakes a shoulder and then with both hands pounds against the chest that used to house his world. “Get up you miserable, selfish, stupid fucking cunt!” 

“Astarion.” The rogue does not know who it is and he does not care. He senses them near, too close, and he wants to draw his dagger and plunge it directly into their heart. Perhaps it would ease the throbbing ache within his ribs.

His fingers are gripping the fabric of his..of their…his hands are clutching her clothes in a white knuckled grip but he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t feel anything. 

Something ugly shudders within him.That’s not true. 

He feels everything. 

The easiest to identify is anger. Rage. Hate. He wants to tear the throats out of every single person present. 

“Astarion.” 

He claws for his fury and tries to don it like armor. If he’s angry he can’t…he won’t…

He swallows thickly. There is something awful in his throat and if he focuses on it he knows, he knows, it will unravel and drown him. He can’t do that. He grits his teeth so hard it feels like they might crack. 

He curls in on himself, whispering into ears that can’t hear him. “Get up,” he begs, hating how it tastes on his tongue. Like ash and rat blood and long dark months locked in a crypt. His anger is a flimsy thing but he lunges for it, desperate. “You promised me,” he hisses. “You and me, you fucking promised me! So stop this and get the. Fuck. Up!” 

The corpse does not respond. 

“Astarion.” 

In one smooth motion he rises, spinning on his heel, drawing his knife and pressing the sharp edge against the soft delicate skin of a throat that swallows reflexively. 

Halsin raises his hands in surrender, his hazel eyes so godsdamned compassionate Astarion almost presses his advantage to watch it crumble like dust in the face of his own mortality.

“Don’t. Fucking. TOUCH ME!” His shrill voice echoes off the cavernous walls of Bhaal’s temple and over the druid's shoulder he spies the face of the god himself leering at him from the wall. A skull weeping blood, cold, and empty of its evil host and the feeling in his throat tightens again, a coiled viper waiting. 

The dagger clatters from loose fingers and he blinks down at where it rests, stained red with the blood in which it landed. 

He looks at his hands blankly, they feel like they’re full of pins and needles, scraping against the nerves of his palms. He’s shaking. Curling the white digits of his hands into fists takes focus but the bite of his nails soothes something inside him, gives him something to narrow his attention on. The trembling subsides. 

His clothes are soaked from kneeling in blood but he returns to her side anyway. He hovers his hands over her body, unsure, hesitant. Scooping her up he holds her to his chest and buries his face into her neck. It’s cold. 

There’s a horrible sound echoing around him and it takes a while to realize it’s him. It’s his voice that echoes around him. Wretched sobs, agony made manifest in the fragmentation of his composure. 

“You weren’t supposed to die,” he tells hers through hitching breaths that gust out from between his fangs unevenly. “You w-weren’t…it’s, it’s gone all wrong. How did it go so wrong? You won.” He turns his face towards the face of Bhaal but he can’t see it properly and he realizes it’s because he’s weeping. 

“Do you hear that?” He demands of the death god. “SHE. WON.” The stone walls of the temple are silent, dispassionate to the truth. Threading his hand through her hair he places his forehead against hers and closes his eyes, rocking her tenderly. 

She’s so cold.

“She won,” he chants to himself. Not a prayer. Not really. Hadn’t he already exhausted the pantheon once before? Hadn’t his prayers always gone unanswered?

Perhaps deities cannot hear the cries of the damned. 

[spyglassrealms]

had a fucking hilarious dream that tumblr replaced the "block" function with the far funnier "glock" function, which did the exact same thing except whenever anyone blocked you a random bullet hole, like a png of a bullet hole, would appear on your blog. discourse blogs were unreadable bc you'd go to the page and the sheer amount of bullet hole pngs stacked over the blogs obscured everything. I woke myself up laughing

[glitchedcosmos]

Yeah he’s fine.

[lazylittledragon]

pspspspsss mombin pt 4

(1) (2) (3)

[cthulhum]

does anyone realize how crazy it is to have the actor of a mostly headcanoned queer ship say the fans were never crazy and they were right all along after 10+ years of everyone just absolutely going nuts over the said queerbaited ship

[ninjasmudge]

doodles of a lamb and their horrible cat

[sopuu]

consumed by the moss

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[belfry-ghost]

finally finished jason so i can post the hades art i mentioned here lmaoo

i'm more of a silly doodle kind of guy so fully lined/rendered stuff.... aigh

[zunaki]

Repainted an old Byler illustration 💖

[aceissomunster]

discowing + jaybin ! press for quality

txtless + ref under the cut

ignore my horrible art please i drew this on ibis paint x with my finger and the soft felt tip pen brush. and my crappy penmanship.

[zosanbrainrot]

I like french Sanji as much as anybody, but may I present you polish Sanji, I just know he would kurwa so much

[chatlote]

A comic about Akechi (not) reaching out during third semester.

[runningupthatvecna]

terrified wet boi

x

[devildomwriter]

Dating Advice From Everyone #1

*Please don’t take anyone’s advice except for the angels, and if you wanna be petty Thirteen’s*

If he doesn’t treat you right you should ?

Lucifer — “Poison them. Make sure to use ground peach pit, it won’t show in any reports and it stops the heart almost immediately. No one will ever know.”

Mammon — “Steal their credit card information.”

Leviathan — “Expose them online and dox them.”

Satan — “Curse them.”

Asmodeus — “Chop their dick off.”

Beelzebub — “Eat them. Or feed them to someone else, humans taste like pork.”

Belphegor — “Set them up for something and send them to jail.”

Solomon — “Make them disappear. I’ll help. Look up cities where people go missing most often—“ *long tangent*

Thirteen — “Take all the buttons, batteries, zippers, lightbulbs, and one shoe from every pair from the home.” :)

Simeon — “Write how you feel into a letter asking for help then read it as if it were someone else and do what you’d advise them.”

Raphael — “Pray on it, the answer will come to you. Trust your instincts. If that doesn’t work ask a friend for help if you think you’re in danger. I’ll lend you my spear should you need it.”

Luke — “Talk with them about it and try to correct the situation, if you already tried or it’s too much then break up! You’re worth more than you know so don’t waste time with someone who doesn’t value you.”

Mephistopheles — “Pay someone to deal with them. If you’re worried about jail just pay off the cops, easy”

Barbatos — “Get them drunk and conveniently make your way towards any staircase you can find.”

Diavolo — “Easy. Summon a demon, just don’t trade your soul, trade theirs. Now you’re done with your problem and you get a nice deal.”

[astarionancuntnin]

shes working on her words of encouragement

(more bg3)