#the coldness of the outer realms

[z428]

(Der Kälte des Tages folgt Kälte der Nacht. Fest verschlossene Räume. Stirn an der Scheibe, das vorsichtige leichte Vibrieren wirkt entspannend. Immer mehr Sterne oben hinter den Fenstern, an einem Himmel so ruhig und dunkel und weit, wie er es über der Stadt nur sein kann. Sich winzig als Teil des Großen Ganzen fühlen, für Augenblicke, aber in keinem negativen Sinne. Unten fallen Autotüren ins Schloss, mehr Klang hat die Leere zwischen den Fassaden nicht, während die Nachbarschaft wohl heute eine Begründung für frühen Schlaf fand. Der Lärm der Dinge kostet Kraft, selbst im ferner werdenden Echo.)

#outerworld #later that day later that night #the coldness of the outer realms

[thefallenangelsgang]

Okay hold up Gale takes you to "The Outer Planes" in his Act 3 romance scene but that isn't a place that is a collection of places

HOLD ON just one fucking second

WHICH OUTER PLANE ARE WE IN?

[generalsmemories]

An Immortal's Delight

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: i think jing yuan just needs someone to kiss his worries away to survive another day tbh, he deserves that.

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, smooches and kisses in the bathtub (scandalous), he's just a tired baby please let him rest and get some cuddles and a pat on his fluffy head. spoilers for the main story in 1.2

✧ a/n: enough attempts on angst as the main genre i want my man happy again for like 3 posts before i attempt again, and i know ya'll want it too. it's cheesy, but HE NEEDS TO HAVE CHEESY MOMENTS PLEASE HE'S BEEN SUFFERING EVERYWHERE ELSE.

Jing Yuan has been submerging himself in the bath without answering your calls long enough for you to grow concernerd. You contemplate for a bit, there's still scrolls of unfinished work sitting by the dining table that you had brought from the Realm-Keeping Commission along with two plastic bags of Immortal's Delight that you bought on a whim while on your way home staring back at you.

Yanqing's not at home. The paperwork can also wait until he's out of the bath and in bed sleeping, and there's no pressing matters at hand for the both of us currently either- with those reasons in mind, you take another sip from your own immortal's delight to savor the taste while it's still cold before walking up to the bathroom door and opening it slowly.

You're immediatey hit with a wave of steam, barely able to make out Jing Yuan's figure amidst the mist. Your husband having an elbow propped up at the edge of the bathtub while resting his cheek on his closed fist. If he heard you come in he doesn't react, eyes closed while the water from the tap still runs, having long flowed over the edge.

Jing Yuan isn't behaving like his usual self lately - not after fate had toyed him like this to make him use two of his ones dearest friends whom he had had once released years back for the sake of Luofu. You can tell, you can see it in the wry smile he sports every day, you can see it in his eyes that flicker with the tiniest of emotions whenever he reports back to you for you to record and in his voice that wavers a tiny bit when he addresses his two old friends as names that are foreign to him.

He's the same general in everyone else's eyes, but in your eyes he's reverted back to his younger self who took on a role far too burdensome on his shoulders all those years ago. He can hide it beneath every meticulous plan and carefully thought out strategies, but you always see through him. You had back then, and you have now as well.

You strip off of your outer robes which leaves you in an undershirt whilst you slowly walk up to him. Making yourself comfortable by the edge of the bathtub, your fingers find the red ribbon that situates his long ponytail and pull it off.

"Darling," you hum, "If you're going to let yourself turn into a prune in here, at least make sure that the ribbon also comes off no?" your hand rests on his left cheek, a silent sign to make him look at you. And Jing Yuan is always obedient around you, opening his eyes to direct his gaze towards you. His other hand comes up to wrap loosely around your own hand, holding it still while he turns his head around to press his lips against your palm, "I would still be quite a handsome prune though, no?" he jokes with an empty chuckle - you're pretty sure his laughs have sounded empty since the stellaron incident first started.

"Debatable," you whisper, gently pulling your hand away to grip the edge of the bathtub, instead leaning down to press your lips against his cheek, "But you would most definitely be the most handsome prune in my eyes."

"That's a relief," he huffs playfully - although there's no playful tone present in his voice. It's numb and automatic, a trained response fitting of the general Jing Yuan of the Xianzhou Luofu. It could've fooled every other person, but not you. He can't fool you after all.

"I thought you had passed out in here, you were taking that long," you emphazise, lips moving from his cheek to kiss across his face, settling on pressing your lips a bit longer on the mole underneath his eyes.

"Mmm, sorry dear," he leans away from his fist, letting you cup his face between your hands while his right arm drops limply over the edge of the bathtub, "It was pretty comfortable in here that I lost track of time."

He never loses track of time.

"Jing Yuan," you call out gently, "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

He doesn't answer immediately, instead averting his eyes from your own as he grows quiet. He's probably contemplating an answer, if you were anyone else he could've easily breezed past the question with a mere acknowledgement that he's fine, but it's you. You're always able to figure him out as fast as his own foresight is able to foresee a necessary plan for a better tomorrow.

He still tries, "I'm fine," he ends up saying, "Just tired," he opens his mouth to add on more details, as if to prove to you he's really just tired, but no sound comes out.

"I know," you whisper, bringing your hand further up his face to brush his bangs away to bump your forehead gently against his, "I know you're tired, dear. But what's gotten you more tired than usual?"

Gently, he lifts a hand from the water up to your wrist. And you're already aware it's a silent request, to which you answer with a small smile and a nod. With a light tug, you get dragged down into the bathtub with your legs dangling over the edge. Jing Yuan had immediately buried his face into your neck, letting out a shuddering breath.

There's no people to care for in this small space, there's no general duties to attend to here and no setting aside his personal feelings or using old connections for his people. In this small space, there's only the feeling of your soft skin against his and the warm press of your lips on his head.

Just like back then after he had come back from defeating his master, after he had witnessed the deaths of his closer friends in battle and the punishment given to another. You're always there at the end of the day - waiting for him.

"Will you tell me what's wrong, dear?" you implore once again, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

"As much as I'm able to keep it hidden at the heat of the moment," he whispers into your neck, taking another shaky breath to which you pat his naked back for, whispering for him to breathe. "I do admit that I once again had a bit of a youthful hope to bring something back from the past that I knew was not plausible."

You merely press your lips to his temple, aware that he's not finished talking judging by the way he takes another deep breath that ends in a low chuckle - a chuckle that sounded a tiny bit more genuine than his previous one.

"... And I think I can still feel the aftermaths of the fight against Phantylia."

"... Well that's no good," you hum. You've been very much aware that Jing Yuan is still recovering from the last battle against Phantylia. His body still weak and food even harder to consume. The little he does consume end up getting thrown back up because: "It feels like my insides are having a battle of its own still," which makes it harder to get Bailu's prescribed medicine down his throat.

You run your fingers down his back a couple of times before leaning away to pull his head out of your neck - he tries to protest, wanting to stay nestled in your neck so he can live inside the personal bubble you've created away from reality. But you're too insistent, gently coaxing him with small pats to his head until Jing Yuan finds himself staring back into your eyes. "In what way can you feel the aftermath?"

He's staring at your lips, "There's a vile taste in my mouth."

Your lips are immediately slotting over his own after that. It's soft, but sweeter than usual. He can taste a hint of brown sugar on your tongue, and perhaps it's because he's not directly consuming it, but he finds it easier to want more. So he leans in for more, grabbing the back of your neck to push you further into him. More, he needs more.

"You're going to swallow me up whole at this rate," you say with a giggle, parting slightly away from his lips and giving them a brief peck when he leaned slightly further into you, "But how did that taste?" you question.

"It tastes like someone's had an Immortal's Delight before coming in here," he jests, "It's good, I like that," he confirms before settling his forehead back on your shoulder.

"That's good, maybe I should drink more of them then before kissing you silly. I'm sure whatever you're eating now paired with Bailu's medicine won't give your tastebuds the best of flavors."

"That would make eating and drinking them a lot easier for my part," he mumbles from your shoulder, "Would have something to look forward to, being that Lady Bailu bans me from drinking such sugary treats at the moment."

You chuckle at the hint of sadness present in his voice, once again wrapping your arms around his shoulders so his senses are filled with your scent. Only then does his shoulders sink in relief - And you know that Jing Yuan will be fine for another day again.

"I can't guarantee that tomorrow will be any better from today," you mumble, "Neither can I guarantee that you won't be faced with a past that you were forced to move on from too soon for the sake of the Luofu," you let go of him to climb out of the bathtub, ignoring your clothes sticking to your skin as you extend a hand towards the man before you who meekly grabs it - squeezing your hand hard upon contact.

"I can however, guarantee that I'll be there waiting at the end of the day every time," you grab one of the fresh towels by the shelves to throw over his head, ruffling his hair slightly, "And take care of you when you want to just be Jing Yuan, and not the Arbiter General of the Luofu," you declare with a smile, "And kiss the vile taste of medicine in your mouth with the flavors of immortal's delight."

Before you can turn around again to grab a new towel to pat your clothes dry, Jing yuan tugs at your wrists and pulls you towards him. A hand coming up to cup your cheek before he bends slightly down to kiss you hard and hungrily. Kissing you breathless like you're all he has left - from back then and now in the present.

He can still taste the sugary drink on your lips - He wants to keep tasting them, he has quite a sweet tooth after all.

"I like the taste of immortal's Delight," he says, pressing his forehead against yours while he gazes at you softly, "So I hope you bought some for me too."

"I did, you can afford one cheat day," you grin, bringing both hands to cup his cheeks before pinching them, "But knowing you, you would still claim it tastes better on my lips, no?"

i- i'm. can someone tell i really love this man. like i want to wrap him in a blanket and say everything's going to be okay, that he can rest now because he's done his job and way more. that he deserves rest as much as the next person- i can volunteer to do that. please.

[snommelp]

YouTube has been recommending me videos debunking flat earth, and I've come to the conclusion that, while the flat earth "model" is nonsensical in the real world, it would make for an amazing fantasy TTRPG setting. Here's the skeleton for making my new game world:

The material plane is infinite horizontally, but finite vertically

Absurdly high in the air (like, "no mortal creature can fly high enough to reach it" high) is an impenetrable firmament

The sun, moon, and stars are all either set in, or otherwise connected to, the firmament

Above the firmament are the celestial planes

Absurdly deep below the surface (like "the deepest depths of the Underdark are shallow" deep) is impenetrable bedrock

Below the bedrock are the infernal planes

The sun (which functions sort of like a spotlight or flashlight) traces a spiraling path throughout the year; six months out, six months back

The north pole is an obscenely tall mountain of magnetic iron at the exact center of the sun's spiral

At the outer reaches of the sun's path, there is an ice wall, beyond which is a realm of otherworldly cold, where natural light never shines

There may, perhaps, be other worlds beyond this land of cold and darkness, worlds with their own suns creating pools of life

[dipperscavern]

(ok yeah ive sent like 4 asks already this morning IDGAF!!! it’s squidward anon btw i simply couldnt hold my thoughts in any longer. i’ll relinquish my time on the floor after this one🤭)

something something riding cregan for the first time😼 he’s just sooo BIG. and he works so hard, with the war coming up, he never rests enough or ever relaxes. he’s just got his pretty little wife (in comparison to him. literally u could be 6 feet tall and he still just engulfs you lawd.) who’s ready to go after a long day of not seeing each other and just climbs into his lap when he sits to take his boots off. a lil grinding (good for the soul) and making out and u can just tell he’s sooo tired. soft groans and sighs as u rake ur hands thru his hair and massage his scalp a lil. just the feeling of u in his lap has him like… boneless. lord he hasnt even put it in and ur both close 😭 so when u just unlace his trousers enough to slip him out and finally sit on him it’s like. lord he’s gonna break ur hip w that grip!!! oh and dont think u have control btw! if u think his ass isnt pickinng u up and dropping u back down on his cock girllll……. also thinks there’s nothing lovelier than his beloved wife, truly the most important thing in his life, on top of him. also the both sitting up pos is SOO personal😭 like ur breathing each other’s air and just sighing and moaning into each other’s mouths. u try to bury ur head in creagans neck and a big hand comes to the back of ur neck LLORDDD HOLD ON THE VISION!!! his arms wrapped around u, one across ur hips to guide u and the other around ur upper back to keep his grip on the back of ur neck to just keep u as close as possible. none of that leaning back and letting it happen.

ok yeah. need to take a WALK.

squidward anon i love u. i love u i love u i love u. THIS IS. ARFGH. JUST TAKE OVER MY BLOG AT THIS POINT. (also send five more asks pls my inbox is forever open!!!)

i so agree with the exhaustion thing. that’s how it happens the first time. with the realm in shambles he’s got so much to attend to. readying his grey beards to march, making sure the people have enough food for winter, usual lord duties & guarding the wall on top of that. omfg.

he’s so tired… but he also wants you — and you need him. you’re practically aching. he takes off his cloak, his gloves, and sheds most of his outer layers that protect him from the cold. he sits to take off his boots & that’s when you saunter over. greeting him with a small hug, and his head falls against your chest as he sighs. you can almost feel the exhaustion radiating off of him. he shifts after a moment, pulling you down onto his lap & connecting his lips with yours. he can’t help it, he needs to feel you. he sighs, deepening the kiss.

“Cregan..” you whine his name against his lips. “want you.”

his response is quick. “Have me.”

he slips his tongue in your mouth, and your hips begin to grind against his clothed cock. he groans at the feeling, his hands groping at the soft flesh of your waist. your hands rake through his hair, massaging lightly at his scalp & giving the occasional tug. he’s pliant, yet in control even in his exhaustion. he’s more reactive than normal, giving you breathless sighs & soft groans at your small ministrations.

you break the kiss, moving your hips off of him and cregan can feel the frustration bubbling beneath his skin. he wants you closer. as close as you can get. he’s about to pull you back to him when he sees your hands go to fumble with the laces of his trousers, and he grasps your intent. you unlace them just enough to free his cock, and his inhale at the feeling of your hand around him is sharp enough to cut butter. you don’t have to undress, already bare beneath your night-shift, a loose fitting robe that does a poor job of concealing anything. not that you’d ever hide from cregan, anyways.

you guide him to your entrance, sinking down on him, and cregans brows harden, eyes closing as a grunt spills from his lips. his hands are on your hips, hard in their grip, but he can’t help it. you’re killing him here. he sinks to the hilt, and you both take a moment to catch your breath. you’re tight, warm & wet around him, and he’s filled you, that delicious stretch that you love so much making you hiss.

“Let me see you.”

you hum in acknowledgment at his words, hand moving to undo the poorly tied center lace of your night-shift. as you do this, his hand comes to aid in sliding the material off of your shoulder. there’s something exhilarating about you being fully bare, and cregan remaining still fully clothed.

his hands begin to guide you, setting you up & down on his cock. you help where you can, lifting yourself when he guides you to do so. the pleasure is almost overwhelming, hot flames of desire licking up your spine at each drag of his cock. his hand comes to cradle your jaw, bringing you closer to connect your lips. your mouths move against each other, small moans & gasps exchanging between the both of you. he adjusts the angle, making his cock hit that spot that makes you whine, tensing with pleasure.

your head falls to the crook of his shoulder, muffling your moans against his skin. the hand that was cradling your jaw slides down to the back of your neck, keeping you flush against him.

& in this moment, cregan can’t think of anything he loves more than his wife. his sweet, gorgeous wife that just makes the loveliest noises when he’s sheathed deep inside her, and looks the prettiest when she’s cumming.

[loveemagicpeace]

🩵Poetic Neptune🧜🏼‍♀️

🩵Neptune represents the waters that contain all of a person's hopes, dreams, emotions, ideas and potential. With Neptune's help, we break through the current dilemma and dare to dream of a better future. That's when photography was invented, and the first scammers were using it double exposures produced photographs of ghost-like figures that were rumored to be phantom creatures. The development of hypnotism and basic began psychological theories. Neptune idealizes, but they are in his case, ideals based on dreaming about someone or something that would save us from pain separations. Basically, it's a longing to escape from cold cruel reality of the world.

🏠This is shown when we return home after a long, tiring day, close the door to the outside world, and immerse ourselves in a good book, movie, or other activity that takes us away from of the daily grind and at least for us for something time to escape. But Neptune can get lost in this relaxation and returning to the real world or knowing when enough is enough doesn't always go well for him. Then it can happen that we drink more wine than we intended, or that we stay up too long and then don't hear the alarm clock in the morning. Neptune can cause confusion in any given life, opening the way to our dreams and closing the door to reality. Neptune is also associated with addiction.

🧜🏼‍♀️People with a strong Neptune can be very daydreaming and are naturally inclined towards spiritual practices and mystical experiences. Many times they experience the world differently than other people. The planet also represents the longing for a benevolent parent who would protect us from suffering and make everything go well. It is necessary to watch out for longing, because it can quickly make us victims of our own emotions. Neptune's domain also includes daydreaming and longing for a perfect love that will satisfy every need and finally made us happy and complete. People with a strong influence of Neptune do not constantly dream of love that will save them and show them the way.

🩵Neptune can also indicate the constant childlike energy that is with us. Returning to the past and the desire to stay young forever. We idealize our favorite actors and other celebrities because we believe they have the perfect one appearance, relationships and lifestyle. Many of us dream of being famous and also living the perfect life. The realization that ideals are unattainable can lead to intense disillusionment with the world, and Neptune is associated with mood swings and destructive behavior when the truth is not matches our expectations. Neptune is the classic embodiment of the artistic temperament. Neptune is associated with the mysterious realms life, and questions that have no scientific explanation. The planet represents the invisible the laws of matching that bind us together and the inexplicable coincidences that happen in our lives. Theories conspiracies originate from Neptune's murky world, where nothing is quite as it seems and the layers of possibility are many.

🧚🏼‍♀️Neptune in 1st house-The presence of Neptune brings an element of glamour to your outer persona. It gives you a sixth sense with which to navigate the world. your imagination is very big and you can quickly fall into your dream world wherever you are. You can draw a lot of energy from your surroundings. Many times you can create places in your own magical way. You can idealize people's personalities and looks without realizing it. Your personality is very interesting and many times people can't read you or tell exactly who you really are. You have a mysterious nature that quickly charms people. People can see in you someone who is mysterious, spiritual and out of this world. Your appearance is magical and you can look like a cartoon character. Sometimes you don't even seem real to people. You can charm people with your presence and appearance. You can be whoever you want to be and people will believe it and see you that way.

💰Neptune in 2nd house-you can daydream a lot about money, material things, food, enjoyment, music, movies. With Neptune here, you can have a very high confidence in the things you have. Your value can also be high (but that's because you're just delusional about it). You can literally manifest money. This placement can indicate dreams and illusions surrounding wealth and possessions. Individuals with this placement might have a tendency to idealize money or view it through a spiritual lens. You can watch a lot of movies and then have the feeling that this is real life. Life can be a movie. You can also have your own style of music that you listen to and it can quickly take you over.

😶‍🌫️Neptune in 3rd house-a lot of your imagination is in your head. You can imagine all kinds of things. Many times you delve into the thoughts of others. Neptune has no boundaries, and when it is placed in the third house, it can be hard for you to be assertive when dealing with others. Sometimes you find it very hard to talk to others or listen to them because you can draw a lot of energy from them. But you can be very good at telling a story or acting out a scene. Individuals with this placement may have a poetic way of speaking or writing, often conveying deep emotions and abstract concepts. Your way of speaking and thinking can be quite mystical, different and interesting to others.

🎑Neptune in 4th house - you can dream a lot about a perfect home and family. You can idealize your home and imagine exactly the kind of house you would like to have. Whenever you feel lonely, your escape is the place where you feel most comfortable and understood. You can spend a lot of time there. People with this position have a need to have a place in which they can hide from others and which is only theirs. Neptune here suggests a search for the perfect sanctuary, a place of soulful retreat. A spiritual principle can be your inner and outer foundation stone. You can have a very beautiful and spiritual home. Maybe you spend most of your time at home. I also think that many people, when they come to the home, feel like they are in a dream and very comfortable. But you can also feel lonely many times.

🎨Neptune in 5th house-eternal child. You want to live an easy, dreamy life. You can put a lot of your energy into creating, showing your thoughts, feelings and yourself. People with this position draw very well from an early age or have a special ability in things that others do not. Neptune here can also mean that you become recognizable at a young age without even realizing it. You can have several different hobbies, but many times they are related to water. In this position, people have to be careful not to get too carried away by gambling. Because they can become addicted to them or use them to escape. Your escape from the world can also be drawing in which you express your feelings, various hobbies or even romantic affairs (these people can sometimes meet people just to escape from problems). But you can also make people dreamy- with you, they can feel like they are in a movie.

🧁Neptune in 6th house- Individuals with this placement often find themselves drawn to careers that involve creativity, spirituality, or working with the less fortunate. They have a deep desire to offer their services to the world in a compassionate and empathetic manner. You can live in a messy space but you can feel your best in them. The 6th house represents perfection while Neptune represents confusion. Here you can be very delusional when it comes to health and your body, many times you are not even aware of the problems you have. You are self-sacrificing when it comes to work or problems. Many times, however, your escape is the opposite of that. These people usually cannot do work unless it involves art and at the same time they will work better on their own. These people should not take drugs or any substance because they can quickly become addicted and it can affect their health.

🥰Neptune in 7th house- a longing for a perfect union is suggested here and it might be hard for you to see people for who they really are, rather than as you would like them to be. You can dream a lot about the perfect partner/relationship you want to have. You can spend most of your time fantasizing about people you imagine yourself. Your escape can also be an imaginary parterre or a relationship that exists only in your head. Here you have to be careful not to get into a relationship too quickly, because people can turn out to be completely different than they were at the beginning. Neptune can give you the illusion of a relationship that isn't there at all. But u can also meet your soulmate and having the most dreamy relationship. The good thing in neptune is that everything is an illusion and you can get everything you want if you believe in it.

Part 2 is comming🎸🫧🎨

✨Ig- bekylibra

-Rebekah🩵🦋🌊

[midheavenastrology]

Random Astrology Observations # 3

~hey y’all back with some rando astrovations 😇 these ones are pretty personal placements 🍀

Thank u so much 444 reading 💜💜💜

❁❁❁Is it because I have Chiron in Gemini that I’m always cold around my arms and shoulders 💪 when it’s cold 🥶 outside, like I’ll legit be wearing a short skirt with no tights but have three layers on top with a thick ass coat but I’ll only be cold around my arms and shoulders+hands !!! what is this sorcery ? 🤨

✾✾✾Having both Venus AND mars in the 11th house is both beneficial and unfortunate because 11th house is the internet, it’s ur hopes+dreams and friends. This means when you achieve ur dream life, u might have tons of people loving it for you (Venus) while the other half will give you the evil eye (mars) 🧿. This also brings in haters/rivals (mars) but also huge fans/besties (Venus) on the internet.

✿✿✿Gemini and Virgo placements (honorary mention Sagittarius placements) how many tabs u got open on safari rn ? I’m a Virgo moon and I got 153 rn lol 😆

❀❀❀Someone said being a life path number 8 isn’t about obtaining power but it’s about EMPOWERING others and that really hit. My personal fave thing to do is gas peeps up. It’s like that weeknd song ♬star girl♬ “I just wanna see u shine cus I know u are a star girl~” ✨🥹✨

✯✯✯Taurus placements are just as “gothic” and dark as Scorpio placements - remember they’re sister signs so they’re similar yet different. Taurus tends to express it more in how they dress/how it manifests in their physical realm. Like my Taurus sun ex was covered in tattoos and wore all black all the time. For Scorpio its def more internal. I know tons of Scorpio suns who wear bright colors and floral patterns lol. They actually tend to have more of an aversion to scary things- like horror movies and death metal etc. I think it’s because they feel it internally already so they don’t need the outer world to affirm it for them.

★★★ Mutable signs are actual legit crazy tho- lol, if you have a ton of mutable placements, you’re probs a little coo coo bananas and that’s ok. I’m mutable dominant and I get called out for changing my mind every two seconds ! Probs broke some hearts because I’d be obsessed with someone one minute and next my pisces venus will be like ..hmm maybe not..Oops 😬😅

✦✦✦Did u know most serial killers are mutable signs ? It’s because our mood are changeable, as are our personalities. One minute they think they’re doin a sin and the next they’re like “oh I’m eating this man’s heart and it’s cool” 😂

✩✩✩ Speaking of which did u know ur mood changes from day to night ? I think u embody ur sun sign in the daytime and moon sign at night. They say that you also embody ur moon sign when ur inebriated. Lol

✦✦✦ I’m so tired of the stereotype that Virgos are all clean, anal neatfreaks- I actually find virgo placements to be some of the most interesting people I’ve ever met. True freaks (not neat freaks thank u- although that stereotype is actual truth lol) They get this rep for being these bookish, boring germaphobes but if u dive rly deep they’re visionaries- they notice everything, every little detail of ur stupid life. They probably know u better than u know yourself.

★★★Also they have the BEST style- probs because again they notice all the details-they study every fabric, every style icon, touch all the different textures and come to a style that is completely their own.

❏❏❏I’m sorry but if u have Taurus + Libra placements prominently in ur chart, u really DO care about how ur partner looks- physically. Like it’s rly hard 4 u to date someone who isn’t ur type physically. It’s because of the Venusian influence. Again, the low vibration of Venus is vanity. We are attracted to beauty like moths to a flame 🔥

☾☾☾ having lots of oppositions in ur chart can make you feel one way but act completely different. For ex: moon opposition Venus manifests as someone who wants to be a quite pleasant and charming, in fact you probs are naturally a charmer and really lovely to be around, yet you don’t allow yourself to express it emotionally.

✪︎︎✪︎︎✪︎︎Libra placements are such devils advocates lol. 😈 It’s def because you see two sides to everything, just like Gemini (also devils advocates) you can empathize with the other, so when ur friend is bitching to u about someone, u see the opposing sides view as well and try to “justify” their perspective. Hence the scales of balance ⚖️ that’s why a lot of y’all are lawyers lol

✡︎✡︎✡︎ 8th house placements are ur secret superpower 🦸‍♀️ 8th house is power, 8th house is dying and coming back stronger, like the Phoenix rising from the ashes 🔥 for ex: I have Uranus in Sagittarius in the 8th house: my power:shared resource that I gift is the awakening of ur higher mind. (Sagittarius is the sign of the higher mind and Uranus is the great awakener) I basically open ur third eye 👁 wide open lol (legit tho, my friends who have become closer to me have progressively become more spiritual and witchy since meeting me lol) tell me what ur 8th house placement is in the comments ✨✨✨⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️💪😉⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

[seiya-starsniper]

For the hurt/comfort prompts

I'd like 14 with Morphenne or 4 with Hobrintheus, please. I'm excited to what you would envision for either of them.

14 - "Thank you for sticking by my side." - from the Hurt/Comfort Prompts

This wip is MONTHS in the making, and I'm so happy to finally be able to share it! Big thanks to @sandman-rarepair-fest for giving me the motivation to finish it 😄 Go check out the other fics people are posting for the event!

Rating: General Status: Complete Chapters: 1/1 Words: 2,958 Warnings: No Warnings Apply Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Hell Invasion, Post-Battle, Feelings Realization, First Kiss Summary: Hell invades the Dreaming, and in the aftermath, Lucienne is always there for Dream. But who will be there for Lucienne when she needs help?

Read more below, or over on AO3: Hopelessly (I'll love you Endlessly)

--------------------------

When Hell makes its move on the Dreaming and attacks, aiming for a complete invasion, there are thousands of casualties in the ensuing battle. Some injuries are fatal, and Dream feels each last breath, every agonizing scream, as their brief lives blink in and then out of existence. Each death is a wound, more painful than any direct cut to Dream himself, and Lucifer’s demons know it. So they aim for the weaker dreams first, those easiest to kill, to maximize the quantity of injuries they can inflict on the Dream Lord before they eventually move to target the more powerful dreams who actually have a fighting chance. 

Fiddler’s Green devours a hundred demons before his pastures are burned to ash, Gault’s wings are torn from her back as she takes on a high ranked demon lord, and Cain for once does not get to kill his brother Abel, for another demon guts him first. Cain, in revenge, takes out three upper level demons before he too falls to the rage and brutality of Hell. 

It does not take them long to breach the outer walls of the castle. More dreams and nightmares fall. Dream cries in agony with each new one, and Lucienne grips him tight in her arms, her and Matthew’s presence the only comfort in the otherwise cold emptiness of the throne room.

Dream wants to fight, wants the demons Hell and Lucifer themselves to pay for what they’ve done. And they will. He is ready for them. They are ready for them.

What the demons of Hell do not know, what Dream has been carefully guarding since his return from a hundred years imprisonment is this: that the Dreaming has been refortified so that it may never fall to ruin in Dream’s absence again. Or in an invasion, such that the current situation is.

In each of the denizens of the Dreaming, Dream has placed a small piece of his power within them, effectively turning each and every one into a dreamstone, forever connected to their lord in such a way so that Dream will never be cut off from his realm again. Through this deepened bond with his subjects, they will always know where he is, and he, in turn, will always be able to call on them.

The deepened connection, however, has its drawbacks. Each new death feels like a cut directly to Dream’s body, to his soul, and he cannot help the torrent of grief that engulfs him every moment another dream perishes. But at the same time, their deaths are simultaneously a balm, an injection of power that revitalizes him. Each and every dream fallen in battle has not actually died, but instead, their essences have been called inside his body, providing Dream with a limitless supply of power and energy. Their wills too, lie intact within him, and Dream is filled with their hopes, their pain, their fury.

Only when the doors break down and Lucifer’s army spills into the throne room, does Lucienne release her hold on him. Dream can feel her smile at his back as he transforms into his Nightmare form, channeling the pain and rage of each and every fallen dream into one unrelenting attack after the other. The demons of Hell don’t stand a chance.

Lucifer flees, abandoning their own people to their deaths, when they see what Dream has done. What he has become. Dream chases them as far as the gates, and then roars in victory when the Lord of Hell disappears over the horizon. The message is clear. Dream of the Endless is more powerful than ever, and any that wishes to prove otherwise shall be met with the full strength of his power. 

Invoking such a power, however, has its own set of consequences.

When the last of the demons fall, and the Dreaming is once again safe, Dream collapses onto the floor of the throne room, crying in agony as he tries to soothe the pain of death for more than a thousand different entities residing within him. The dreams are loud in their sorrow, and it is so much grief, so much heartbreak, it is all too much. 

Fiddler’s Green is the first to be resurrected, and then Gault. It is all he can manage before Dream is reduced to a sobbing, useless mess. 

Lucienne holds him throughout the night, whispering words of comfort to Dream, and all that reside within him. It soothes the ache by the tiniest fraction, and he is grateful for her embrace. 

With each day that passes, Dream brings another dream, another nightmare, back to life. With each life revived, the agony fades, but the memories of their deaths, their feelings in those moments do not. Dream had accepted the risk of this when he had asked for the denizens’ permission to imbue himself even further into their lives. Each and every resident had given their consent, some more freely and easily than others, but all had agreed that not knowing where Dream had gone for the last hundred years was worse than what Dream was asking them to give him. 

Lucienne and Matthew stay by his side, holding vigil as Dream wrestles with the tangle of wills raging inside him. 

Eventually, Dream expels the last of the dreams from his body, and soon the only voice residing inside his head is his. He allows himself a short reprieve to rest and recover, then sets to repairing the damage to his castle. 

“No offense, boss,” Mervyn tells him days later, when Dream is feeling more himself, “but I never want to share a body with you and everyone else in here ever again.”

Dream laughs, despite himself, but when Mervyn is gone, he sobs into Lucienne’s arms, unsure why he is still feeling so emotionally fraught.

“You took on a lot to keep us all safe,” Lucienne tells him, her voice soothing and low. “You have never infused yourself so closely with us before. Of course it would overwhelm you.”

Dream knows this, and yet, still he feels like he is drowning in a sea of unending grief.

--------------------------

After he finishes repairing the castle, Dream takes some time to wander the Dreaming to assess the full extent of the damage done by Hell’s forces, Lucienne follows his lead, taking careful notes of all the things that need to be repaired, while also making sure that Dream does not take on too many restoration efforts in one sitting. Mervyn helps with some of the smaller repairs, however the large majority of fixes to the realm still fall to Dream to complete.

Dream expects Lucienne to eventually return to her librarian duties, once Dream is mostly recovered and well enough to fully dedicate himself to restoring the Dreaming to its former glory. But even after the majority of the realm has been recovered, Lucienne does not leave his side. Instead, she continues to keep vigil over Dream, never straying more than a few paces from him, when she can help it. In the days immediately after the attack, Dream had grown so used to her constantly being within his peripheral vision that it takes him some time to remember that this was not always how things had been between them. Even Matthew, who has never been more than breath away since he had become Dream’s raven, does not keep nearly as close of a watch on Dream these days. Because Lucienne is always there. 

“You do not need to be my shadow any longer, Lucienne,” Dream says one afternoon when they are alone together in the throne room and reviewing Mervyn’s latest reports of needed repairs. Most of the remaining items are small, with the exception of the Sea of Nightmares, which seems to have grown quite restless in the past few days. Though Dream would prefer to get the rest of the small repairs over and done with, so he can focus solely on the Sea of Nightmares, Lucienne has forbidden him from exerting any more of his powers for today. 

Lucienne purses her lips at his words, her eyes kind even as she frowns at him.

“I am where I am needed, sire,” she replies. Dream sighs. He had expected this.

“Lucienne, you have many responsibilities to attend to, and I am well enough to hold my own without your aid,” Dream says. 

Lucienne shakes her head. “You may need me, sire,” is all she says in response, before she returns back to reviewing Mervyn’s reports. 

Dream hates himself for not trying harder to keep Lucienne at bay, to insist that he is fine. But the truth of the matter is that Dream is tired. He is tired of his function, tired of having to defend himself and his realm time and time again, tired of carrying the weight of the entire universe and its unconscious minds on his shoulder with no hope for reprieve. 

The only time Dream feels even a modicum of relief is when Lucienne is there. Lucienne, who places his hand in hers and squeezes it to distract him from his maudlin thoughts. Lucienne, who takes stock of all the restored dreams and nightmares, ensuring that they have fully recovered from their ordeal with Hell’s minions. Lucienne, who still hums a lullaby in a long dead language from a long dead planet, in the quiet of the throne room, knowing that the sound soothes Dream’s ever fraying nerves.

So Dream does not press further when Lucienne insists on keeping watch over him, even as he feels as though she is treating him like a piece of fragile glass that could shatter any moment.

--------------------------

When Dream finally ventures out to the Sea of Nightmares to assess the damage Hell’s forces have done to its waters, the waves rush up to meet him, and Dream braces himself to be pulled within their depths. The Sea has been temperamental ever since the battle with Hell, and Dream knows it is likely questioning his competence. It is just another thing he will have to weather, another challenge to be conquered. He is prepared to remind the old nightmares that dwell beneath that he is still their master, that the battle with Hell has only made him stronger, not weaker.

But the waves of the Sea crash just past him, enveloping Lucienne instead and pulling her down into the cold dark depths.

Dream does not think twice before he follows, desperately diving in after her.

The Sea of Nightmares is vast and infinite, containing the collective fears of every being within its waters. Dream feels his own insecurities rise to meet him, threatening to swallow him whole. The Sea recounts each and every death that Dream allowed to happen, all of the pain his subjects had to suffer at the hands of Lucifer and their demons. It reminds Dream of his century long imprisonment, of how he let his realm fall to decay. It recalls how Dream has scorned and hurt those closest to him, from Nada to Hob Gadling. How he continues to hurt those closest to him. Especially Lucienne. 

Lucienne.

Dream’s eyes snap open, clarity piercing through the darkness of the Sea, as he remembers the reason he’d jumped into the water. His goal recalled, Dream starts to swim in the direction of Lucienne. Though he cannot yet see her, he can feel her, and he will not let his rogue creation take her from him.

He spots her not far south from his current location, and Dream dives downwards to reach her. As he swims closer to Lucienne’s location, Dream realizes the Sea has shifted. It is no longer showing him his deepest fears and insecurities.

No, he realizes with a sense of growing dread. It is showing him Lucienne’s.

Lucienne had always been steadfast in her devotion to him, and Dream had always believed they had an easy understanding of one another, a shared goal to keep the Dreaming alive and well, a sense of honor and duty. As Dream reaches out to grasp Lucienne’s hand, however, he realizes the depths of her devotion. Not only to the Dreaming, but to Dream himself.

The Sea shifts again, this time revealing to Dream Lucienne’s deepest fears. It shows him the countless lonely nights spent waiting at the Gates of the Dreaming, waiting, hoping, praying for Dream’s return. Another wave shifts the image to the sight of Dream, bruised and broken, as Lucifer’s minions invade. Yet another shows Dream, alone and surrounded by nothing but death and chaos, clearly prepared to sacrifice himself to some yet unseen force.

What Lucienne fears most, the Sea seems to whisper to him, is losing the one she loves most. Losing Dream.

Dream feels wretched. Undeserving. How had he not noticed that she carried these feelings for him all these years? He had always been perceptive, able to easily glean even the most carefully guarded secrets, and yet, this one has gone beneath his notice.

Or perhaps, he thinks to himself, he had simply refused to see it. 

Dream’s despair threatens to pull them both deeper into the Sea of Nightmares, to drown both he and Lucienne in the cold, cold, dark, but Dream will not let it. The Sea of Nightmares is still his subject after all, and it will heed the call of its master. Of Dream of the Endless. 

The Sea heeds his call and releases them. Dream takes Lucienne and then swims to the surface.

He breaks through to the surface just moments later, gasping for air and clutching Lucienne to his chest. She is unconscious, likely due to the shock of the Sea’s attack on her. With a single thought from Dream’s mind, they are both transported to his private chambers, and he lays her carefully on a wide bed with dark satin sheets, before replacing both of their wet clothes with dry ones. Then he fashions himself a chair to sit in and waits. 

Lucienne gasps as she wakes an undetermined amount of time later, coughing fitfully as if her body were trying to dislodge the water from the Sea of Nightmares from her lungs. But she is a creature of the Dreaming, and so there was never a true risk of her drowning.

“My lord?” Lucienne says once she’s caught her breath, turning to him. “What—what happened?”

“The Sea of Nightmares is still yet unstable,” Dream answers. “It stole you beneath the waters.”

“I—see,” Lucienne replies, her brow furrowing. “And you— you rescued me?” she asks, widening her eyes as shock then worry crosses her features.  “My lord, that was a dangerous maneuver. You could have been greatly hurt.”

“I could not lose you, Lucienne,” Dream says simply. It was true. Lucienne has always been an instrumental part of the Dreaming, of Dream’s function, but she had truly become invaluable to him when he had returned from his imprisonment at the hands of Roderick Burgess. Lucienne had shone a light on Dream’s weaknesses, had helped him see past his own pride as he struggled to adjust himself to a realm that had rotted away in his absence. She had shown Dream that change need not be a terrifying thing, that it could be beautiful, not just in his creations, but in Dream himself.   

“My lord,” Lucienne argues, “it is still not worth the risk—”

“You are worth every risk, Lucienne,” Dream interrupts her, cutting off the thought before she could finish it. “There is no one more valuable to me than you,” he adds, and realizes he means it. Lucienne had become wholly irreplaceable to him, and that could only mean one thing. 

“I have been negligent in saying so in the past,” Dream continues. “But I would like to thank you. For staying by my side for all this time. For believing in me, even when others had given up. For giving me—” he pauses, then takes one of Lucienne’s hands in his, raising it to his lips. She inhales sharply, caught off guard by the intimate gesture. “Something I still do not think I deserve.”

“My lord?” Lucienne asks, breathless.

“Lucienne,” Dream murmurs, his lips ghosting along the knuckles of her fingers. “I do not yet believe I am worthy of your love.” He looks up at her, hoping that she sees that he is serious about his declaration. “But I would like to be, if you’ll allow it.”

Lucienne’s eyes widen, then crinkle as she lets out a small huff of laughter. “I would respectfully disagree with that assessment sire,” she replies, turning her hand in his to squeeze it in return. “You do not see yourself as I do,” she adds, her voice soft and fond.

“Clearly, else I would have noticed your affections sooner,” Dream replies, feeling his own lips quirk upwards as he returns her smile.

“Perhaps that is only a testament to how well I know you, that I kept them hidden for so long,” Lucienne teases. Dream barks out a laugh, and it echoes loudly in his chambers, but he does not care. Lucienne has heard him laugh many times in the past few thousand years, so he is unashamed to let her hear him now. 

“Perhaps,” he allows. “But now you are no longer permitted to keep those feelings secret. I would have all of them, immediately.”

Lucienne rolls her eyes, but still stares at him, fondness clearly etched across her lovely face. 

“You have always been greedy with your lovers,” Lucienne answers. “But I suppose I do not mind that about you.”

Dream’s only response is to pull Lucienne into a deep, breathtaking kiss. 

[akittenwrites]

Queen of Ice and Prince of Fire [2]

Author: @akittenwrites

Summary: Lady Y/N Stark of Winterfell has declared herself Queen in the North. That means war, against King Viserys, and also against Prince Daemon. But the Rogue Prince doesn't want to fight her.

Type: multichapter series

Chapter: two

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x reader

Word count: 1498

Warnings: swearing.

Part one.

A slight breeze caressed her skin as she dipped her fingers in the ice-cold water of the small lake. Winter was coming. The ground around her would be covered in snow in a few months.

She looked at her reflection in the water. The past year had come and gone, robbing her of her father and the innocence in her eyes. She was still young, her skin bright and her lips plump, but her life had taken a turn for the worse since she had lost the only parent she had left. Her brothers were too young to take on the role of Lord of Winterfell, so it had become her burden to bear. And so far she had done so with responsibility and dedication, taking care of her people and honoring her father's memory.

Yet now everything had changed. Eight months ago they had received a message from the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch: winter was coming. Almost at the same time, her most trusted maester warned her that war for the Iron Throne's succession was looming in King's Landing as it appeared the King had trouble producing an heir.

Winter would be harsh for the entire realm, but especially the North. There was no way of predicting how long it would last. It could be two years, or it could be twelve. Facing the effects of war in the south or being forced to participate because King Viserys' dick didn't work? Because Daemon was apparently too unlikeable to sit on the damn throne? No, she refused to be a part of it. She wouldn't send her people to die for that. Northerners had their own war on the horizon, and it was a real war, not the product of politicking. Ravens flew from Winterfell and back for months, and soon her letters informing her bannermen of the threat that was near were followed by the summoning of the heads of their Houses for a secret meeting to discuss and agree on a strategy.

That night the lords named her Queen in the North.

Now she had to live up to the title.

The rustling of leaves behind her made her stand up, the long skirt of her gown feeling heavy as it hung to her waist. She dusted it off without turning around, the grey silk of its outer layer a gift Daemon had given her the day she left King's Landing, almost a year ago. She knew he would recognize it. He always did.

"This castle is terribly guarded."

Oh, how she had missed that cockiness. She smiled to herself, relishing the sound of his voice after so long.

"Well, nobody comes here, I've been told it's a cold and unwelcoming place, so we do not bother with such pointless matters."

She turned around with a smirk on her face. Daemon stood next to the heart tree, a black cloak covering his clothes but with the hood off, his pristine silver hair framing his face. She raised an eyebrow, questioning his choice of attire. Did he really think he could blend in dressed like that? Just one more example of how disconnected the South was from the North.

She was still impressed he had managed to find her so quickly, anyway. It was a place he hadn't visited in decades, even if she had intentionally made it easier for him, waiting there, in the Godswood. It was a small clearing in the woods, away from the noise of the castle and prying eyes. Only the Gods were listening. The ground was covered in red leaves from the Weirwood tree, and the lake reflected the grey sky above. Her long dark hair moved in the breeze.

"You arrived thirty minutes ago," she stated plainly. Then she pointed to her left. "Caraxes is six miles that way. You didn't sneak into Winterfell and the Godswood. My guards follow my orders. I let you in."

"Then I am relieved," he said, walking a few steps in her direction, careful to avoid the tree roots. "I would hate to think you weren't properly guarded."

He paused, gazing into her eyes with such intensity she held her breath, waiting for him to close the short distance between them and kiss her with the same fiery passion he did the day they said goodbye.

But he didn't.

"You were expecting me."

It wasn't a question.

She nodded.

"I had faith."

"Faith?" Daemon laughed. "Faith in what? That it would be me that would come here to talk to you peacefully instead of a handful of dragons flying around and burning you and your people to death?" His eyes didn't leave her, his brows furrowed. He looked at her almost as if he was scolding her, but something else caught his attention then. He sensed movement near, inside the woods, and his eyes darted around for just a moment. That was when he saw a few pairs of bright green spots glowing in the dark.

Direwolves.

All around them, watching. Ready to attack.

"Why are you so bothered?" Y/N responded, claiming his attention again. Daemon had grown tense, and she knew it was because he realized they were surrounded, but he had nothing to fear. The wolves answered to her. "Dragons and armies are not known for their stealth. Had that been Viserys' answer to my message, I would've received them accordingly."

"What game are you playing, Y/N?" he questioned, examining her face, trying to read her, to figure her out. "You are gambling your life."

"It's not a game," she answered, walking up to him. She placed a hand on his chest, yearning for his warmth, and felt his muscles relax under her touch. "You know me, Daemon. I do not wish to be your enemy."

"Yet that's what you are," he whispered, looking into her eyes.

She sighed, feeling him so close yet so far as they stood in the center of the Godswood, their faces barely a few inches apart, their eyes refusing to look away. She caught a whiff of his scent, smoke and musk, and had to fight the urge to bury her nose in the crook of his neck.

Why had she let so much time pass without writing to him? Why hadn't he visited her?

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely audible. "I missed you."

His hand found the underside of her chin, tilting her head up as he examined her face. She let the hand she had on his chest wander until it reached his shoulder, keeping her ground as she looked at him too. He hadn't aged a day.

Her eyes became glassy and she closed them, unwilling to show weakness. And yet, a few seconds later, when his lips found hers and she felt her heart jump in her chest, a lone tear fell down her cheek.

He was hesitant at first, kissing her slowly, lingering. And when she kissed back, parting her lips, desperate, his other hand grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him, their bodies finally becoming one. The kiss was long and intoxicating, deepening as his tongue found hers, exploring, so intense and drugging. They had both been longing for this in a way it couldn't be described. For their lips, for their kisses, for each other. They parted for just a moment to catch their breath, slightly opening their eyes to look at each other, to make sure it was real. Daemon used his thumb to wipe her tears, worry evident on his face.

"Why are you crying, love?"

There it was. The Daemon only she knew. It had been so long since he had called her that. It brought her back to all those times they laid in bed together, completely naked, the bed unmade and only a few candles alight. He would call her love and look at her with such tenderness her heart would swell inside her chest.

"No reason," she whispered, not wanting to ruin the moment. "I just missed you."

He pulled her in again for another kiss, capturing her lips fervently, his hands stroking her hair, her back, her arms. He was everywhere, hungrily sliding his tongue between her swollen lips, and she let herself get carried away, mindlessly hugging his strong body, trying to become even closer to him, if it was even possible.

When they finally parted, he rested his forehead on hers, closing his eyes. She closed hers too as she recovered her breath and soon she could feel his heart beating against his chest, against hers. Were they his heartbeats or hers? It didn't matter. She cherished the moment because it was just them and nothing else mattered.

His warmth embraced her, and as they stood like that, in each other's arms as the sun set and darkness found its place around them, she wished they could stay like that forever.

But they couldn't, and they both knew it.

It was the calm before the storm.

Next part.

Tagging: @batprincess1013 @lollaa-puff @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mamamooqa @queenmendes @chevelledahuman @thanyatargaryen @zgzgzh @boofy1998 @lovelokiqueen @kmhappybunny240 @dudde-44 @dankfarrikdin @gothicgay14 @ilovemarauders @ilovemydinoboi @asgardiandeadpoetsociety @how2besalty @kaitieskidmore1 @thhriller @omgsuperstarg @missyviolet123 @booksnink13

TAG LIST CLOSED. If you asked to be tagged and you are not here, it's because tumblr wouldn't let me tag you. Sorry. I'll use the tag #queenoficeprinceoffire so you can follow anyway.

[moodymisty]

Not the same anon but you remember that Death with cold and cynical s/o after the Well of Souls thing? I'm kinda intrigued about how that works, so can I request a oneshot for that?

Btw, after reading that entire thing, it sounds a bit like "Just Look My Way" from Helluva Boss.

Author's Note: Hello! I had a bit of trouble with this one, but I hope you still enjoy it :3 I'm trying to get the last few of the SFW requests done since the NSFW ones are becoming so long XD I'm proud of them, but they tend to take longer and get drawn out.

Relationships: Death/Gn!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1374

Death wouldn't consider himself unfamiliar with the feeling of death, as joking as it might sound to himself.

However the Well of Souls however had felt, different. It feels like no time has passed at all, like a blink of an eye; Though he can tell by the leaves on the trees and the structures around the Tri-Forge than more than a fair bit of time has passed.

A part of him had considered not even making this stop. His 'death' at the Well of Souls could serve as a perfect severing point between him and the Makers realm. He could just add it to the list of places he's traveled through and throw it behind him.

But he just couldn't do it. Against his better judgement, he just needs to make sure.

He'd never said goodbye to you, never told you where he was going; He'd just left you at the Tri-Forge, and had trusted in the Makers to keep you safe. He's sure they've done a fine job of that, in his absence. As much as he might've complained, he can't think of many at all that he trusts as much.

Death dismisses Despair and walks into the Tri-Forge, and within moments he can feel as if something is off.

He's quite familiar with feeling unwelcome in any place unfortunate enough to have him present, but even this is a bit... intense.

The Makers on first glance can't contain their surprise at seeing the Reaper again, before it quickly sours. Death wonders how long he's really been gone; He imagines not much longer than a season, if the weather is anything to go by. It had been quite warm the last time he'd been here, and now the Makers realm is quite a bit colder.

He continues forward, and it's not longer after he passes the outer forges that he crosses the old warrior he remembers from the beginning of that long journey that led him to the Well of Souls.

Valus gives him one cold look; For once the reaper might've preferred seeing Alya.

"You have quite the pair to come back around here again after what you did."

Death lets out a quiet scoff. He knows what the Maker is referring to, but decides to beat around it. Why he can't hazard a guess, it slips from his lips behind the mask before he has a chance to really stop it.

"After what? Attempting to save War? I believe you all helped me in that endeavor, last I remember."

Valus crosses his arms across the expanse of his chest, and nods in the direction deeper into the forge.

"You have a lot to work on, Reaper. You might be able to talk like that to me, but you ain't gonna do that with them."

So you're still here. That fills him with more relief than he'd ever dare utter out loud. He doesn't know why he even thought you would be gone- the Human realm is still off limits, as well as a crumbling wreckage.

Valus, as much as it seems to physically hurt the Maker, directs him in your direction before not giving the reaper much more than a scornful parting glare. Death takes it in stride- it isn't the first time- and keeps moving until he finds you.

But he can't contain the raising of his posture when he sees you, your back turned to him. You don't seem to know he's here as of yet, occupied with something else.

He notices in your lap is Dust; He'd put the bird in charge of keeping an eye on you shortly before he had 'died'. He'll give the bird a piece of carrion for sticking though with it. Though he isn't very much surprised, as the bird had taken a liking to you quite quickly. It helps that you were more than eager to snuggle and give the bird scritches, unlike himself.

You tenderly scratch the bird on the back of the neck and earn an appreciative warble, before the crow notices him and abruptly begins to squawk, jumping on your thigh and flapping his wings. You look down at him and pinch his beak for a moment, trying to distract the bird.

"Quiet Dust, geez." The bird fluffs up and continues to caterwaul, until his old master finally speaks up.

"I don't appreciate you yelling at me, bird."

He notices your body tense up and raise suddenly, and you look over your left and see him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. The crow lowers his tone and still warbles deep in his throat, but stops the flapping and alarm bells.

And then your face drops back to neutral, and you turn away.

Dust hops gently on your thigh and looks up at you, taking a chunk of your clothing in his beak and attempting to pull at it. He gets gently brushed to stop doing it, and settles back into a fluffy black loaf.

Death takes the hit to his pride a bit harder than perhaps he should have, considering his attempts to feign nonchalance for anything other than your fragile mortality. He had expecting you to have that brightness to your eyes and jump up and run to him, like you'd had the myriad of times he'd left you for even the shortest while. He'd thought it was annoying, but now he finds himself almost craving it as your back faces him. He misses the happiness, the energy. It's like it's all evaporated from you now.

This is what Valus was referring to, it seems.

"Quite the greeting," He says, gesturing with his hand for his crow to finally return to his master. His duty is done after all, he did what Death asked of him.

Dust distinctly hesitates for a moment, before eventually giving in and flying back to rest on the top of Harvester. Meanwhile you turn around and give him a venomous look, crossing your arms.

"You gave so little of a shit about me you couldn't even say goodbye, Death." You just shrug your shoulders and turn away, like you can even tolerate the look of his mask. "Now that you picked up your bird, you can leave. I'm sure you have somewhere much more important to be. I'll be fine with the Makers." "Though I doubt that was ever a concern for you."

He supposes that you aren't wrong to think that. He never did tell you more than what he absolutely had to. In that moment, and the many times he'd neglected to tell you things beforehand, he thought he was doing the best thing. And keeping his feelings at arms length.

Keeping yours at arms length too; He could tell you were getting more and more attached to him, and that he needed to keep it from happening before you ended up too entrenched in something that would only end up getting you killed.

But he hates the way that your admittance to thinking he doesn't care about you hurts.

He does care; Far too much, if Death had any say in it.

He gives far too much of a care for someone as old and dejected as him. One of the first things that came to his mind when he left the Well of Souls was you.

He supposes this was bound to happen. Everyone eventually comes to hate him, in the end. It's his lot in life.

Though this one hurts far worse, and he finds himself wishing to fix it far more than any of the others. To make matters worse, his crow hefts himself off of his scythe and returns to you, as you get up and move to walk away.

As you pass he raises his hand ever so slightly to grab your arm and stop you- he doesn't even know what he'd say to you if he did- but drops it. You don't notice, and keep walking away right past him.

Death supposes he deserves this.

But while he finds himself unsure on what to do, he knows he has to do something. He isn't going to let you go like all of the others that have wandered through his life. He just doesn't know where to start.

[gortashs-skidmark]

GORTASH HEADCANONS and CANON Facts

MATURE CONTENT WARNING, 18+ MDNI, SMUT FOREWARNING - (Grammar mistakes, not proof read) CONTENT WARNING: enslavement mentions, death mentioned, religious themes, war, assassinations, spoiler warning for act 3, anarchy, plotting, yadda yadda evil,

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Canon first, to make precision based Headcanons second.

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ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ

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Info Source: Forgotten Realms Wiki, Forgotten Realms Wiki, World Anvil, World Anvil, Fast Change, r/DnD, Forgotten Realms Wiki, World Anvil, dungeonsanddragonsfans

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Utilizes 4e and 5e Manuals.

CANON

Wyrm’s Rock Geography and History

𝔊 An "Island-fortress located in the city of Baldur's Gate, that served as one of the headquarters of the Flaming Fist military. It was located on an isle in the middle of the River Chionthar, at the center of Wyrm's Crossing."

𝔊 Smooth, warn granite built Wyrm's Rock, with 1ft thick and constantly wet from the river.

𝔊 The interiors of Wyrm's Rock includes offices and chambers for toll-gatherers and guards, keep's armory stocked to the nines, the top floor serving living-quarters for serving officers and mercenaries.

𝔊 It can hold up to 100 Flaming Fist, but usually only houses 25-50

𝔊 Below Wyrm's Rock is the damp cold dungeons, but it's not used regularly, only for emergencies. It's mostly used as storage, holding canoes and such.

𝔊 The current uses for Wyrm's Rock, are as a safety precaution from the Chionthar's rapids and a toll booth, 5 copper pieces, for travelers along the Trade Way.

𝔊 It's a well guarded fortress, with projectiles, barrels of oil, armor, and hand held weapons.

𝔊 Ansur, a Bronze Lawful Good dragon, "The Heart of the Gate" slumbers beneath Wyrm's Rock.

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Lower/Outer City

𝔊 It is a dangerous "near lawless" piece of Baldur's Gate. Very impoverished with three enterances; Basilisks Gate, Black Dragon, and Cliffgate

𝔊 The buildings scattered along the city are unorganized and unstable.

𝔊 "Due to the high standards of cleanliness that the Baldurian patriar, the city maintained a strict law that prohibited anything larger than a peacock from entering the city's gates. All the stables, livestock pens and abattoirs were consigned to a location within the Outer City. As such, flocks of sheep, goats, cattle and all manner of fowl were kept in enclosures or left to roam around unchecked. While nary a single dog could be found in the lower city, packs of strays were not at all uncommon in the Outer City."

𝔊 It's noisy and dirty and overwhelming for new comers through the gate.

𝔊 The Flaming Fist and The Watch often turn a blind-eye to petty crime like pickpocketing.

𝔊 The Flaming Fist are often bought out, and their behavior sways with the political alignment and leadership world views.

𝔊 There's so much to write about! check this page for all of the vast shops around the Lower City, and the lore behind them. I don't think many of them are relevant so I won't indulge it.

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Humans in DND lore

𝔊 Humans are very diverse, and the youngest living out of the races. They often have a tad of tainted. blood, whether orc or elf or another.

𝔊 They are the most adaptable opportunists and ambitious race. Their culture, gods, customs, morals, all range heavily. They typically stick to one city and stay for as long as possible.

𝔊 Unlike humans themselves, cities and kingdoms with traditions and origins that stick around for centuries. Human names are often regional reflections. If they're given an elven or other name with racial origins, it's usually pronounced wrong.

𝔊 Humans live in the present and make greater adventurers because of it. They're better read about current political change and social dynamics.

𝔊 Humans mingle with anyone, usually able to get on anyones good terms because of their conventional image. In human built societies, generally, they're inclusive. Not always the case. In other racial origin societies, it can be harder for humans to fit in.

𝔊 Because of their short life span, immortality is an escape that's only dreamt of. They seek to leave a mark on history themselves instead of longevity.

𝔊 Humans are categorized by appearance because of region and ancestory. They fall into 9 categories, which I won't be listing. You can find info here, but don't go crazy.

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Baldur’s Political Systems and important Dark Urge History

𝔊 The Half Way to Everywhere, Baldur's Gate, largest metropolitan City-State in the Western Heartlands. Protected by The Flaming Fist (mercenary company) and The Watch Citadel (upper city). Showered in abundance of rain weather, and a complex and efficient aquaduct system. This city is described as The City of Blood with it's large waves of crime, primarily because of its acceptances towards anyone, including thieves.

𝔊 The city is apart of the Lords' Alliance of powers in the west, and ruled by the Council of Four (4 Grand Dukes) who attended the Lords' Alliance in representation of their City-State.

𝔊 There's a strange energy about Baldur's Gate. People, no matter the state of the world, often kept to their own business. They didn't have too many customs, but a few festivals. One notable past-time were cobble parties, folks gathering boxes and crate for seating and sharing stories, lit with special "red rose" torches from firework shops.

𝔊 Religion in Baldur's Gate was vast in variety. Depending on the hotspots of culture, you could find god and goddess worshippers of any kind. Twin Song's, a temple district in Baldur's Gate in the Outer City, were very religiously tolerant, even of Bhaal and Bane worshippers.

𝔊 To favor the land, Umberlee, Tymora, and Gond were prominent gods that were worshipped.

𝔊 After a coup by a previous Grand Duke Valarkan, the city's government changed to a Baldurian Parliament of elected Dukes. After 1479, it changes back to the Council of Four, accompanied by the Parliament of Peers.

𝔊 The Parliament of Peers were an Advisory Council. 50 representatives spread over the entirety of Baldur's Gate, as a legislative body. They would submit recommendations to the Council of Four.

𝔊 The Council of Four were served by 5 deputies, City Officials. Harbor Master, High Constable and Master of Walls, Master of Drains and Underways, Master of Cobbles, and Purse Master.

𝔊 They would hold sessions in the High Hall, open to observers. most days. They held assembly days every afternoon, with non-mandatory attendance, often 20-30 council members in the hall at a time. Some days were mandatory, depending on the topic.

𝔊 A large number of parliament members were bought-out and under influence by The Guild leader Nine-Fingers Keene.

𝔊 It was made up of retired adventurers and guild leaders. 12 representatives of the Lower City, and the remaining were Nobles representing the Upper City, known as Patriars.

𝔊 A list of Patriars. Including Oberon, who you can find dead on Wyrm's Rock. A Noble family who owned many of the dry-docks in Grey Harbour.

𝔊 "In the Year of Three Ships Sailing, 1492 DR, Baldur's Gate became plagued by a series of murders and disappearances. The members of the Flaming Fist showed little interest in addressing the incidents, but after the patriar families of Caldwell, Oberon, and Linnacher became affected, the pressure from Flaming Fist demanding investigations from their superiors started to increase" - Forgotten Realms Wiki

𝔊 In 1479, Baldur's Gate had mended their relationship with Elturguard. Though, expansions the Gate had been making, re-threatened Elturian's and were on the verge of civil war.

𝔊 In 1482, Grand Duke Abdel Adrian, a good-conquered Bhaaspawn, was attacked by a man named Viekang, the only other remaining Bhaalspawn. Though the duel ended in both men dying, one turning into The Slayer form. Both were Bhaalspawn, one was the victor though not knowing who was who. The Slayer form was returned to Bhaal after this event.

𝔊 Durge, with how their timeline works, has to be over 33 years old. Duke Abdel was 120 and had already separated themselves from Bhaal's influence. Do with that info you will. Back to your regularly scheduled Baldurian murder.

𝔊 His death was blamed on The Guild and adventurers were hired to investigate the murder. An increase in crime caused The Fist to crack down on the Lower City and shadier outer districts.

𝔊 The efforts of the Fist and the Watch, assumed by Grand Duke Ulder Ravenguard, didn't last and erupted in chaos. Strikes happened amongst city-workers and the Upper City was given a mid-afternoon curfew. The merchant class of the Lower City became unruly. Arson and crime sky-rocketed. Baldur's Mouth shut down, and the Fist's new leader instituted a series of illegal tribunals.

𝔊 Grand Duke Torlin Silvershield's stock-piled smoke power over parliament to stop the Guild's influence on the corrupt Baldurian Parliment. He revealed himself to be the "the Chosen of the re-ascended god of murder, Bhaal" before he was killed.

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Gortash leans towards Steampunk, does technology exist? What are Constructs?

𝔊 There are different playable levels of tech you can play in a Campaign. I'm not sure where BG3 lies, but my guess is Steel Age, as it is possible to forge steel and infernal iron.

𝔊 Steel Age: fits most campaign settings (including Forgotten Realms, Greyhawk, Ebberon, etc.) and some experts know how to use adamantine and mithril.

𝔊 Within the canon lore that leads up in Dark Urge Origin, it should be the Steel Age. The Zhentarim, 1480's, create steel forged from Dragons in the Cult of the Dragons campaign, which has some capable lead up to Blood in Baldur's Gate (might be canon??) and then the 1492 BG3 game.

𝔊 Infernal Iron, weapons forged from this iron will smite souls and direct them into the River Styx. It can create soul-powered machines and vehicles. It creates Soul Coins, common currency in the Nine Hells. It is mined in the 8th (Cania) and 2nd (Dis) layers of Hell

𝔊 Constructs are creatures made up of inorganic materials. They are non-intelligent automatons, most are anyway.

𝔊 Living Constructs, however, combine elements of in-organic animation and living creatures. They possess free will and sentient thoughts, through complex and potent magic.

𝔊 Living Constructs can get better, and develop skills, they have vitality that doesn't depend on their size. Which means they are capable of being affected by spells and the living. They can wither mentally and physically be harmed in fights. They can be affected by necromancy.

𝔊 Living Constructs are capable of running, be affected with certain healing spell, can take certain potions, but do not require eating and drinking, be affected with mind-altering magic, most are immune to nausea, poison, sleep, fatigue, and paralysis.

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What are Artificiers?

𝔊 They are inventors, engineer, and tinkerers of brilliance, they see magic as a complex system that's meant to be "de-coded" which makes them slower in spell progression.

𝔊 They use a number of items and systems to channel arcane magic, such as alchemy supplies for potent elixirs, calligrapher supplies to inscribe sigils, or tools to craft a temporary charm.

𝔊 They are particular in their crafts and hone it to their own character to produce the perfect product for the job.

𝔊 They often appear more steampunk than medieval like their compatriots. They are capable of using firearms and explosives

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Who is The Tyrant God Bane?

𝔊 "Bane was the Faeruniangod of tyrannical oppression, terror, and hate, known across Faerûn as the face of pure evil through malevolent despotism. From his dread plane of Banehold, The Black Hand acted indirectly through worshipers and other agents to achieve his ultimate plan to achieve total domination of all Faerûn" - Forgotten Realm's Wiki

𝔊 He was the principal of ambition and control. He believes the strong have a right and a duty to rule over the weal.

𝔊 He favors individuals with drive, courage, and promoted slavery to powerful individuals.

𝔊 He worked closely with other if they interested him, unlike most gods. He worked with Myrukel, long when they were both mortal and beyond. He also worked with Loviatar (his servant at one point), Talona, and Mask.

𝔊 He was once lovers with Kiputytto, the demigoddess of Disease, and Loviatar's sister. Later slain by Talona.

𝔊 Bane has had servants such as his own son Iyachtu Xvim, during his first life. At other times of his god life, Abbathor, Maglubiyet (popular goblin god), Hrugget, and Tiamat.

𝔊 Bane's biggest and most hateful foe was Mystra. He hated Cyric too, who stole many of his followers, the Zhentarim or Black Network. He was hated by others but those are some relevant ones.

𝔊 Bane's Church was ruthless, though very stable. It was as disciplined as Shar's or Cyric's. Banite customs were often spartan-ish and followed a heirarchy. There are no Banite holidays and showed their gratitude through rituals. Including sacrifice and torture of sentient beings that were deemed "offensive"

𝔊 Priests of Bane prayed at midnight, for their spells. Disloyalty resulted in death.

𝔊 When Bane was mortal, he allied with mortal Bhaal and Myrukel. They targeted Jergal. They could slice through any obstacal, sometimes set up by Jergal. Jergal was tired of his title and gave it them, including his dagger given to Bane. The God of Death Jergal tricked one another to turn on each other. He divided his power in a game of Knucklebones, which Bane won and gained governance over the sphere of strife. Then Myurkel, then Bhaal who ate murder scraps. Ultimately Jergal had the Goddess of Luck decide.

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How does the Church of Bane shape its worshippers? im just gonna quote one source bc it's straightforward man.

𝔊 Bane's church believes in subserviences and submission within a hierarchy, junior members bowing, kneeling, and even kissing boots if they were low enough in rank. Superior members were to be obeyed at all times. The church rules were of utmost importance, order and laws from any other land means nothing.

𝔊 "According to his priests, Bane was to be feared by his faithful and even more feared by the unfaithful. It was the duty of every member of the church of Bane to "spread (his) fear""

𝔊 "Banite priests took great pride in their ability to control their actions and avoid succumbing to emotional outbursts. Their outward demeanor was cold and thoughtful, they thought carefully before they spoke, often preferring sarcasm and "witty banter" rather than overt hostility." - Forgotten Realms Wiki

𝔊 "The overarching goal of Bane's clergy was the charge of seizing or manipulating their way into power in every nation, city-state or freehold in all of Faerûn, to bring them under his influence. Using emotionally manipulative tools such as fear, hatred or greed to sow conflict, war and chaos would allow the Black Hand to maintain control over lands too distressed to maintain stability. To this end, priests and followers were encouraged to commit acts such as torture, political infiltration or inciting mayhem with subtlety, cruelty and overall, fear."

𝔊 Rituals; "They were held either outdoors at night, or in a space of darkness, such as darkened chambers, caves or ruins with only dim lighting." [...] "Services included rhythmic chanting, the rolling beating of drums and the sacrifice of an intelligent creature's life. To prepare for this life to be given to Bane, the oblatory life was to be demeaned and tortured until they showed him due fear."

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𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊

HEADCANONS (mixed nfsw)

𝔊 He's a mad scientist, lacks good aligned morality, he's far gone. It makes him an amazing artificier.

𝔊 Larian Studios, what is that? What is this laziness? (I was looking into Chiondathans bc I've never heard of the 9 regional categories)

𝔊 Hearing Gortash vomit would be more attractive than hearing his previous last name of "Flymm" in full. I just wanna put that in.

How old is Enver Gortash?

𝔊 I liked this deep-dive by @victorgrwrites and I won't waste time explaining and here

𝔊 So like 33. I think he's 33. Also here’s a bg3 timeline bc yall seem to struggle

anyway

𝔊 I like that durge potentially gets with Astarion. Bane favors animals like bats and black green eyed cats. and durge catches themselves a vampire that can turn into a bat (if ascended). That would 'bout piss Gortash off.

𝔊 Gortash really gets some points from Bane bc he got the Zhentarim's favor again through infernal iron weapons trading. They favor Bane over Cyric again. Gortash was #1 in Bane's eyes.

𝔊 I think he gets hard when he gets exceptional praise. Not like "good boy" like "you're everything the world ever needed, my merciful god" kinda praise. Like calling his brain is magnificent for coming up with that plan all by himself (if you're tav) gets him goin'

𝔊 He does not attend a lot of the parliament meetings, when he does it's for very specific problems in Baldur's Gate, anyone who caught on would probably "disappear"

𝔊 He's busy, either tinkering, meetings, or in worship. I think he leads Bane's church, but not publicly, through Banite priests because he can't be discovered about his religion as a political leader.

𝔊 He uses tones in his voice, you hear it all day, he only makes talk to flatter, mock, or threaten politely, but he knows how to use a very soft, very sweet voice that makes you give into anything he asks for.

𝔊 His broad shoulders and warm hands are never sincere. You felt like you've never been given a sincere hug from him, as comforting as they can be in the moment. He'd have to give up his way of life and cry on his knees in front of you before you could believe he was ever sincere about certain affections.

𝔊 If you could polymorph into an animal, he's either think it's disgusting or wanna fuck it.

𝔊 His Steel Watch, you just can't tell me not to be stunned, are half way between living and non-sentient constructs. They have a brain that operates, they can see what they're doing, and yet they have no control over their body. Gortash didn't need to give them brains to make automatons that do anything at his will, it's pure slavery and torture.

𝔊 If you’re childhood friends, 7 or 8 years old, you’d drag him in the late of night to those Cobble parties and sit among the adults in the dim red torch light listening to the adults talk. You’d drop him off at home, you did have a way of worrying for his safety with his parents. He was a stubborn devil as a child but you were too happy and care free to leave him be.

𝔊 He did not carry those cobbler genes, have you seen his fuggo ass shoes?? He can tinker like no one else but his sense of style is messy and new-money.

𝔊

Why is Gortash Evil?

𝔊 His parents fucking sold him for being "needy and troublesome" like MOST KIDS ARE. If I got sold to a Warlock, that turned out to be THE SON OF MEPHISTOPHELES. I'd be fucking evil too.

𝔊 Just as he was needy and troublesome when he lived with his parents, he reverts to a smaller husk of himself with a trusted lover. Needy, malevolent, confident in his strides, it’s his way or the highway, but he will listen to you quietly. You are an equal but he’s relentless as a person. Pester, pester, pester. Sometimes you feeling like you’re mothering him.

𝔊 He's probably pretty high up in the Church of Bane. People kiss his feet, he shows amazing restraint in emotion, politically is advantageous for Bane, he's a slaver like Bane teaches is okay to do, he trades arms and is super fucking popular for it.

𝔊 He showed great restraint with the Dark Urge, I think he loved being allies with them because he didn't have to stray far from Bane at all for Durge to adore him. I don't think he could've loved and he would've abandoned Durge in a heartbeat unlike vice-versa.

𝔊 I think Enver hums deep and beautifully from his years of chanting in Bane's name. He has a deep focused look on his face, and he deeply hums a melody he heard at a party last night, dancing and wooing patriars left and right on the ballroom floor.

𝔊 𝔊 𝔊

𝔊 Undoing his evil is near-damn impossible. He loves attention, he needs it. He needs praise his his god. He worked so hard for everything in life and you can’t take it away.

𝔊 If you can convince him to give up, fucking unlikely, before the Nether Brain fight, he’ll live. He might suffer Bane’s wrath and kill him and Jergal would not be super happy reviving him after your pleas. Karlach would hate you. So would Wyll

𝔊 Threatening his enteral consequence of death, tending to flowers forever in Avernus after he dies, or, he fixes Karlach so she doesn’t need to go back to Avernus.

𝔊 She wouldn’t trust him and she’d say she’d rather be dead before trusting him again. And you have to convince both of them to be better. Well. Just Gortash. Karlach can do whatever her sweet heart desires.

𝔊 He is irredeemable, he's lead the Church of Bane since he was 17, he's pretty much licked Bane's asshole at this point. It's hard to get to know him. He's probably a grumpy, sad, regretful little guy under his immaculate persona.

𝔊 You can start reconnecting him to Baldur's Gate, with Cobble Parties, you both go and hold hands and listen to stories. He doesn't want to listen to the groveling, sober at least. He is reserved and needs to make friends, but in his own times.

𝔊 His parents would never take him back and accept him, they made him and didn't help him, or work with him as a child an they handed him over to a Cambion. They still recall so much hatred when he lived there.

𝔊 He probably loved explosives as a child, and got in trouble for setting them off in the house. He would tinker, wander off, and read books and play by himself, smart reserved kind of kid. Which worried and frustrated his parents, he wasn't cobbler material.

𝔊 Children are difficult but you can't forgive their negligence. They threw him out at the first chance probably. You hold a grudge against his parents. You're vocal about it with comments, when they see him after the whole ordeal. He's supposed to make progress and they're gonna make him writhe in every mental way like he did before.

𝔊 You make sure to create good memories, even in the Lower City, those cobble parties, little firework shows off the grey harbors docks by the foundries ashes, he never got to celebrate Baldur's Gate's customs like Highharvestide even tho it's not as popular, Returning Day to where you talk about the Murder in the Wide. you want to include him in everything,

𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊

Hey guys! if you got this far, yay! but also i'm not done writing it. come back to my page and find it on my master list when it's finished to enjoy more!

I’ll continue writing as I think of more headcanons.

[z428]

Dann: Vorabend am Fluss. Von den Häusern her treibt rauhe Luft voller Eis und Kohlenrauch über die Wiesen. Schmutziges Weiß, alter Sandstein, rostrote Laternen, für den Augenblick lebt ein Gefühl ferner Tage auf, ein Gefühl von Stadt, das man nur von den Fotos und Geschichten kennt, in dem Männer gezwirbelte Schnurrbärte und abgewetzte Anzüge mit Weste tragen und irgendwie immer Winter herrscht. Im Supermarkt des geringsten Misstrauens durchmischt sich das Personal, jene, die schon seit Ewigkeiten hier arbeiten und stets entspannt blieben, treffen auf die Zornigen, Unzufriedenen, die verschwunden sein werden, sobald sich Gelegenheit bietet, und die freundlichen Resignierten, denen man das Unwohlsein in der Situation genau so anfühlt wie das Unvermögen zu Anderem in diesem Abschnitt ihrer Leben. Aber vielleicht überzeichnet man auch Eindrücke, in den Farben, die die eigenen Gedanken, die eigene gelegentliche Schwere mehr oder weniger trüb auf die Fasern dieser Zeit malt. Und so bleibt man auch freundlich mit allen, erwartet wenig dafür, packt seine Kartons und Tüten in den alten Rucksack und zieht wieder hinaus, in den alten kalten Winter.

#outerworld #sdgm #the coldness of the outer realms #winter comes

[anarchy-n-glitter]

just a lil longlegs x reader/oc drabble i wrote, finally coming off of the anon for this cause i need to stop being a coward.

i tried my best to keep descriptions of the main character neutral but there are a few things specific to my oc clarice like her hair color and last name.

idk how many words this is, i wrote it in a cold sweat in my notes app

TW: dubious consent, mentions of cannibalism, smut

he had descended upon her again like a pale ghost amongst a sea of red. chapped, puffy lips ravaged her skin and her own lips harshly - as if he were trying to fuse himself to her. tears filled her wide eyes as she choked out a gasp that was halfway between pained and pleasureful as his nails dug into the soft flesh of her wrists.

her back arched, pressing her bare chest into his clothed one unintentionally. her body betrayed the look of disgust she often wore when she looked at him. the way her eyes locked onto his and stared unblinking with a mixture of fear and lust and hate did nothing but shackle him to her - in his mind, their souls were intertwined… she would be his forever.

this pretty investigator, a girl of only twenty one, delivered to him wrapped up in a pretty bow by satan himself. she was a gift in more ways than one, and he would use her as another offering to mr. downstairs.

he loved her most like this, spread out on his mattress with her wrists pinned above her head. her strawberry blonde hair splayed around her head and face in a mockery of a halo as he defiled her. bloodied the white wings of the angel before him. he took the soft, supple flesh of her breast between his teeth and softly bit down, drawing another sweet gasp from her lips. the small whines worked him up in a way he couldn’t explain. he wanted to make her cry.

pale eyes shot up to look at her suddenly, practically pinning her in place and forcing her to be silent. she found it hard to stay still and stay quiet with him staring at her the way he was, with him slotted between her legs dragging his rancid cock against her walls. a stuttering breath escaped her and he pounced on her like a wild animal, teeth on her neck, hands tightening around her wrists til it was unbearable. she cried out, and in return he made a similar whining sound.

with each thrust she tried to contain the small noises that ached to escape her throat, but to no avail. dale’s own moans - moans done to mock her - only seemed to draw out the sounds she longed to suppress. on his ghostly face a lopsided grin broke out. it sent shivers down her back as she braced for what could possibly come next.

dale would never let her leave. he couldn’t. he wanted to put her in her own box and bury her where no one would find her, somewhere only he knew about. and when the time came he would dig her up and be her savior, someone she could shower with gratitude and love.

she would love him one day.

overcome with lust and jealousy and possessiveness, dale leaned down to her ear, pressing his lips to the outer shell as he whispered: “if i could i would eat you alive.”

the rasp of his voice - and the dead seriousness in his tone - sent shivers down her spine. her body suddenly went numb as another pang of fear wracked through her limbs. her eyes darted to the workbench across the room, to the tools that laid upon the wooden surface and glimmered in the low light. she could see a knife, a pair of scissors, and a saw. if he wanted to he could kill her, she knew that much, and his words only instilled that fear in her further.

would he kill and eat her? she supposed it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility - after all, he already was a serial killer.

“i would swallow you whole. or i could tear you apart with my teeth. that way you’d always be close to me… you could never leave.” dale continued. her body was rigid against his own. he slowed his thrusts, somehow reaching deeper inside her than ever before, yet she found it hard to make any sort of noise. her vocal cords felt paralyzed.

“i would keep you…” he moved her wrist, guiding her hand between their bodies to the taut skin of his belly. “right here, all safe and sound inside me.”

the sound of his sing-songy voice turned her stomach uneasily. her wide, teary eyes met his again, and she realized with horror that he was dead serious. she found herself praying, words muttered under her breath that she knew didn’t mean a thing in the room she found herself in. this was not god’s domain. dale picked up his pace again, chuckling lowly and continuing to mock her whines and prayers.

“oh god, please!” he cried teasingly, followed by another high pitched whine that sounded like a woman from a porno. “god please don’t let him hurt me.” he pressed a firm, wet kiss to her mouth.

“fuck,” he groaned, “don’t let him tear into the flesh of my chest and dig out my heart.” this time instead of returning her right hand above her head, he reached out to cup her cheek.

as if suddenly entranced by him, so full of fear, she couldn’t hold anything back. her tears flowed and her throat felt raw as she screamed wantonly, legs tightening around his hips. he released her other hand which she used to draw him closer, holding his body tightly to hers.

and over his shoulder she saw it - the hulking, shadowy figure of the beast staring down at her with glowing red eyes filled with hate and love and pleasure. this was dale’s way of praying - this was his devotion - and she could tell the devil reveled in every minute of it. one of god’s children - angelo, the angel, heavenly and clean - corrupted and defiled by his own. his disciple… the man downstairs.

her eyes gazed upon the demented face of longlegs, and in their heated moment of terror, disgust and euphoria she came undone around him - finally resigning herself to the life he chose for her.

[macabrecabra]

LOVECRAFTOBER: DAY EIGHTEEN:

SHUB-NIGGURATH: Black Goat of a Thousand Young, All-Mother, Lord of the Woods, The Mighty Mother

Affiliation: The Court of Shub-Niggurath

Shub is a one of the more powerful outer gods, standing as equal with Yog-Sothoth and mother of a mighty court made of her countless spawn across the eons. Only the strongest may rise to hold titles within her court and earn her attention.

She can come off as both motherly but also cold, kind and understanding, but also ruthless and cunning. She is a dichotomy of emotions, as wild and feral as the forests she calls home in her distant realm. She is very protective of the upper court of her most darling great old ones. It is of note that those great old ones in her court are more beast-like in design.

She is noted to be a tad uncaring about mortals, seeing them as human would insects: with passing interest, finding some of them interesting, but woe to those that enter where they shouldn't be as she is not above smashing unwanted pests.

[sinner-as-saint]

Is it ok to ask for morpheus

Dream x succubus reader

Dream meets someone in another persons dream only to find out its a succubus . R is too innocent as a newly tansformed demon she didnt intend to hurt someone it was out of hunger

OH-

Themes: smut, succubus!reader

He knows what you are the moment he sees you of course, but he didn't expect to find you in the state that he did.

You were stressed, worried and scared. And in front of you, in his own bed was a passed out man.

"What did you do, demon?" He asked in that voice that was deep and smooth and darker than the depths of hell.

"I didn't touch him, I promise," You said quickly, seeming a little on the verge of tears. "I guess I... I couldn't ease into it. I was so, so hungry and he passed out just as soon as he saw me." You spoke sheepishly and Morpheus could easily tell that you weren't new to this.

You didn't have the arrogance of most succubi. You were a little uncomfortable yourself. The sight of a slightly shy and awkward succubus made Morpheus smirk just a little, mainly because it was so rare but also because you seemed oblivious to how dangerously, hauntingly beautiful you were.

"Come with me." Was all he said and he reached out to grab your wrist.

You merely blinked and all of a sudden, you were no longer in that man's bedroom. You were somewhere equally as dark, just more spacious.

"Where are we?" You asked, eyeing Morpheus with a cautious stare. He could tell you were still on the edge. Especially when you asked with a shaky, lowered voice, "Who are you?"

"I am Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless. This is my realm."

Your heart raced just a little faster as you took in the man standing in front of you. Somehow, he seemed more powerful than earlier now that he was where he belonged - in his kingdom. He was so alluring it scared you. And you couldn't look away, no matter how hard you tried.

"I... I shouldn't be here." You said. "I have to go back."

Morpheus smirked as he stepped closer to you. "Do you? I thought you were hungry, little demon."

Well now that he mentioned it...

Breathlessly you answered, "I am." You were enchanted, entranced just looking into his eyes - like two pools of stars, bright and mysterious but so, so beautiful.

Morpheus took another step forward, you took one back. And again, and again until you were trapped between him and a cold wall. Your wings tensed up behind you and he noticed.

"Then I can't send you off while you're still hungry, can I? That would make me a terrible," He leaned closer to whisper into your ear, "...terrible host." He reached out with a finger and traced the outer edge of your wing, knowing damn well that it was a sensitive, highly erogenous zone. "What do you say, demon? You know I can satiate your hunger."

You almost whined as he traced mindless circles on your wing. "Please," You whimpered, clenching your thighs together.

Morpheus' eyes glowed in this darker part of the room. "Shh," He cooed, "Come here," He whispered, stepping closer, "I'll take care of you."

His hands were on you immediately. Caressing, petting and fondling your warm body while his mouth carefully kissed yours. He was slow and caring for just a minute or two before he turned ravenous.

Nibbling and biting and grabbing you to pull you closer, to press your scantily clad body to his dark, cool clothes.

"Poor little demon," He whispered against your open mouth while his hand found its way in between your legs. "I can feel your hunger. You want this so badly, don't you?"

Your tail instinctively wrapped itself around his wrist, pulling his hand closer to where you desperately needed him. "Please," You whimpered again, grinding against his fingers the moment he touched you.

"There you go," He encouraged, "Take what you need."

His fingers slipped inside you, stroking you until you were purring like a kitten in his arms. Your face contorting in pleasure, your wings splayed behind you, your tail wrapping tighter around his wrist as he made you come all over his hand. That little bit of energy you absorbed from him was enough but he wasn't done yet.

Morpheus had your legs wrapped around him while your wings hurt just the slightest bit as he pressed you against the wall and kissed you even harder, deeper.

"You want more, don't you, little demon?"

You nodded, pulling away just a little to look down and watch how he buried his cock into you. You whined, watching your body swallow all of him deliciously. You moaned breathlessly as he sped up and started pounding into you. You whimpered, feeling all of him just stretching you out, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you.

You could hear your moans echo around the room, along with his grunts and groans. You took a little more from him and you could feel the energy coursing through you - making your orgasm feel even better.

With one final thrust, Morpheus came inside you with a strained groan which only made you clench harder around him. You were both breathless and satiated at the end of that quick fuck.

"There you are," He cooed, "All happy and full, hmm?" He smirked, caressing your cheek one last time before he said, "Now be a good little demon, and go home."

[cloaksandcapes]

A very powerful item, but at the level you should be getting this, enemies will have more than enough ways to come back to thank you for the impromptu vacation!

Bow of Banishment

Weapon (bow), legendary (requires attunement)

“This legendary bow was created using various materials gathered from around the inner and outer planes. Infernal iron from the Hells, magical pearls from Elysium, a Kraken’s tooth, plumes of an Ember Roc, the breath of a cloud serpent, and flawless gems from the Plane of Earth. ”

You have a +3 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this magic weapon.

Planar Banishment. When you deal damage to a creature with this magic weapon, you can choose to attempt to banish it to another plane. You can roll 1d6 to determine the plane at random or choose between Elysium, the Nine Hells, or the Plane of Fire, Water, Air, or Earth. If you choose a plane at random, the target takes an additional 2d6 damage each time they fail their saving throw. At the end of the target's next turn, it must make a DC 20 Wisdom saving throw. On a successful save, they resist the banishment. If the target fails the saving throw five times, they are banished. The banishment effect ends if you are reduced to 0 hit points, or you can choose to end it as a free action. Once you use this property you cannot use it again until you finish a long rest.

1d6 - Realm - Damage Type

1 - Elysium - Radiant

2 - Nine Hells - Necrotic

3 - Plane of Fire - Fire

4 - Plane of Water - Cold

5 - Plane of Air - Thunder

6 - Plane of Earth - Force Join us on Twitch every Mon\Wed\Fri to create new Homebrews and check out our Patreon for 482+ magic items, tokens, maps, and more.