#any one of the party members could be there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

essektheylyss · 1 day

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for the ask game: 🧡🖤💚

🧡: What is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?

Until I see definitive proof that Ludinus is in fact as old as he wants people to believe he is, I will not believe it. I don't even really have an opinion on how old he is; I just don't think he's as old as he tries to suggest. And lest it be said that I am playing favorites, the thing about Ludinus is that he talks the way Essek talks in 91—and there are a lot of things Essek says at that dinner that I take with a good heaping of salt. It's this sense that they're talking around things that they would rather people not question; they're both very skilled at talking around things in a way where they aren't outright lying, but they'd rather you not think too hard about it because there's shit they're not saying. To be clear I also won't be mad if there does turn out to be some evidence in canon that he is that old, but thus far, there is nothing definitive, and I do not take the word of unreliable NPCs at face value.

🖤: Which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?

I don't think this is really an unpopular opinion at this point, but Jester. Nice =/= good. I don't think she's evil, by any means! But her morality is a lot more complex than it's given credit for and I think it's one of the things that is most interesting about her. I'd actually consider her largely amoral; it's just not really an axis of consideration that she worries about. She doesn't want people to hurt her or her friends and she doesn't want something to destroy the world, but otherwise she doesn't really care much about what someone's morality is. "Just don't be evil to me" is an incredible sentiment for a reason. She cares more that Essek said they were his friends than the fact that he's the traitor they've been looking for. Ludinus is so insignificant to her despite his literally world-spanning evil plots that she has basically forgotten him six years later, even though two members of her friend group have spent the last six years trying to pin him down. Jester is hilariously amoral and I love that for her.

💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?

[cracks knuckles] OKAY, this is where I've got receipts, because hooo boy do I have an opinion and I will be proving it.

Essek does not have an opinion on the Prime Deities. He does not really have much of an opinion on religion. He actually does not by the end of the campaign have any real issue with the Luxon, and frankly he primarily expressed issue with the Dynasty's worship because, until he got to Aeor, he wasn't certain that the Luxon was a real entity at all—which he contrasts against the Prime Deities, in fact!—and he seems to believe there is compelling evidence in Aeor that categorically disproves his hypothesis that the beacons are simply constructed Age of Arcanum devices.

Originally he is mostly concerned that the Luxon religion is used as a "crutch" which is "distracting them from what other good things they could do with the time and focus". He does specify that any religion can be used as such, but he only remarks upon the one he knows. His theory about the beacons, as of episode 91, is that they may be "artifacts designed in the Age of Arcanum that have been misread" that could be put to even further use.

He also does parrot the Dynasty party line in their first meeting about the Luxon being "the basis of how we've been able to free ourselves from the binds of the lineage the Betrayer Gods left for us", and while I do not take him at face value here (see the above commentary about unreliable NPCs), I doubt the truth of this statement is lost on him, considering his familial connections to Bazzoxan, which I can only imagine would not exactly endear one to the Betrayers, though this is only conjecture. If we do care to take him at his word here, it's not unreasonable, since he obviously has a lot more interest in the power offered by the beacons than anything else.

With all that being said, his tune on the Luxon itself has at least changed by the time they get to Aeor. He discusses iconography found in Aeor and when prompted by the Nein about whether the beacons were created by mortals, says, "I do not believe that they are made by anyone but the Luxon. They are of the Luxon. But they've been around since the Luxon's been in Exandria, which is the beginning."

So we started with him largely apathetic to religion, uncertain if this god was real, and by the time we circle back to him, he has now sided fairly definitively with the fact that the Luxon is an entity that has been around since at least the Founding. (For those keeping track at home, this is longer than Predathos has been around. In the Dynasty's creation myth, it may also have been around before the Prime Deities arrived, which is technically not incompatible with the creation myth of Exandria at large, but I digress.) Like most of Exandria, and as is perfectly reasonable for both his culture and his region, he probably doesn't have any love for the Betrayer Gods, but doesn't express much opinion if any on the Prime Deities. He has no time for religion, but frankly, he doesn't have time for much except for his own research, so it's hard to really ascribe any noted contempt to that.

Like, look, I've written plenty of religious trauma Essek fic, and I don't doubt that that element of it exists, but overall, in terms of canonical statements, it's pretty tame.

With that being said, I do want to fast forward a bit to draw attention to something else. Because I actually do think he ends the campaign with some measure of respect for, at the very least, the Wildmother.

In 140 after the Raise Dead fails, he talks briefly with Fjord about the unfairness of it. Fjord passively directs him to "if you were to ask my wise friend Caduceus..." Immediately after this exchange, Essek challenges Caleb to not accept defeat, and admits he wishes there was more that he or any of them could do, but concedes that, "Unfortunately, this type of magic is beyond my purview."

Immediately after this exchange, Caduceus asks for divine intervention.

Of course, he then spends several weeks gardening in a temple to the Wildmother, and seems to find some genuine clarity and perspective there, but I think this alone is enough to argue that, for a person as driven by empirical evidence as Essek, this sequence of events in 140 would be plenty to earn a wizard's respect.

So my formal belief is that Essek is not in fact anti-god or anti-religion, let alone against the Prime Deities. My opinion is that it's very easy to imagine him on his post-campaign travels leaving a small offering at any shrine of Melora he might pass, not out of actual worship but as a sign of respect.

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lordprettyflackotara · 2 days

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paradise || sam golbach

SMUT. minors dni fr. 18+ this one is ummm. i’d say it’s for the humiliation & harder kink leaning girls only !! i have so many fics in the work i promise imma feed all of the different fandoms that follow me🙏🏼 enjoy mwah !

How did one woman change Sam’s life so drastically?

How did you change his life so drastically?

Sam couldn’t escape you. He thought of you every day, the image of you burned into his mind. You were like a parasite, one that had buried itself into the depths of his brain.

It didn’t matter what he did or where he went. He tried everything to forget you. Or at the very least to think of you less. Sam felt like he was slipping, losing control of his own thoughts. He traveled wherever, trying to distract himself.

It didn’t matter where he went, he felt like he wasn’t in control of his own desires.

Logically, Sam knew anything he felt for you was wrong. Any filthy fantasy, craving, or romantic thought, was a sin. After all, you were Colby’s little sister.

Colby was only a couple of years older than you, the age gap one that originally steered Sam away from you. Growing up with Colby, you were always around. You did your own thing, preoccupied in building a simple life for yourself. You opted to be out of the spotlight, politely declining any invitation to be apart of their content.

But then, you disappeared for a few years. Sam hadn’t seen you since high school. You went away to an out of state University, while Sam and Colby both moved across the country to pursue being content creators. If Sam was being honest with himself, despite his current obsession, he had forgotten about you for a while.

After all, he was in the major league now. He had girlfriends come and go, hookups, anything and everything he could ever need. Sam firmly believed, at the time at least, he was in paradise. He was on a high, one that he thought he couldn’t be knocked down from. So when one of Colby’s cousins was getting married, he didn’t think twice about the invitation, nor being his plus one.They did everything together, both boys pretty much members of each other’s families. Everything should’ve went the way Sam expected it to, but it didn’t.

Those predicted thoughts and plans were all shattered the moment he saw you. You were borderline unrecognizable. Sam couldn’t figure it out, staring at you as you walked down the aisle as one of the bridesmaids. Your face had matured, a decent amount of your soft skin revealed in the dress you were wearing. Your back was almost completely exposed, the sight making Sam shift awkwardly in his chair like a thirteen year old boy.

He could feel the blood rushing to his cock, his face turning the faintest shade of pink. Was he really getting hard? Over seeing some skin? Sam mentally rolled his eyes at himself. He had seen much crazier things. Yet, the simplicity of your back was enough to send him in a frenzy. As you gazed over at the audience, your eyes met his, a small smile creeping up your lips. Sam delivered a discreet wave, your smile growing bigger at the sight. Your eyes then flickered back to the bride, your attention returning to the wedding.

Somehow, someway, for some reason, that made Sam jealous. Sam was not a jealous person. Or he didn’t consider himself to be. The after party was more Sam’s speed, the loud music and alcohol provided something he was used to. Sam didn’t drink often, deciding to stay sober for the most part. (After one too many drunken hookups, he learned his lesson.) He monitored Colby the best he could, the brunette talking up a girl Sam didn’t recognize.

Awkwardly Sam sat at one of the round tables, his phone dead and eyes glazed over from boredom.

“Sam?”

Your voice was like heroin.

Sam’s head perked up, his eyes flickering to yours. You sat down beside him, skipping the small talk and immediately trying to catch up. As you told him about your University adventures Sam couldn’t help but stare at you. Your elegant makeup complimented you perfectly, your pink lips moving a mile a minute. He hung onto every word, every time you laughed at one of his jokes.

The party was beginning to die down, older family members going their separate ways. You nervously bit your bottom lip, asking Sam a question he could’ve only dreamed of:

“Hey, do you wanna get out of here?”

Sam felt euphoric when you pulled him into the back seat of your car. When you placed your lips against his, when your small hands began to fiddle with his belt.

He remembered the sweet sound of your moans. The way you whimpered for him, begging for him to not stop. How tight your cunt squeezed him, the way your lips pressed against his with such passion. As if you had been yearning for him all of those years you were away. The way you looked into his eyes as you came around his cock was all Sam could ever think about.

Attempting to return to his normal life was pure agony. Having to look Colby in the eye the next day was a nightmare, his little sister’s mouth wrapped around his cock the night before. Attempting to continue making content was even harder, Sam’s mind wrapped around the memory of you. He tried to ignore it, but his fans knew something was up. The comments of concern grew overwhelming, the blonde deciding to take a break from social media all together.

Colby recommended that he try to take a well deserved vacation to try to get himself together. Colby didn’t think much of his behavior, figuring he was just in a slump. Sometimes making too much content was draining. He figured he just needed a long break.

Sam tried. Genuinely, he tried to move on. He visited Florida, the waves of the beach not enough to drown out the memory of your moans. He tried New York next, the tourist actions not indulging enough to get him to forget you. Every time he attempted to focus his mind would begin remembering, the sight of you falling apart on his fingers.

It was never enough.

He sat in his hotel room, contemplating booking another flight. Maybe to Mexico. Maybe that would fix it. He flipped apps to instagram, a picture of you showing up on his timeline. Of course. What were the odds? You were posing with a friend, standing in front of a picture of your University.

He bit his bottom lip, knowing his desire to come see you was absurd. It was reckless, completely and utterly insane. If you didn’t react well, his friendship with Colby could be entirely ruined. But what if you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you?

Fuck it.

Sam stood at the door of your dorm, becoming increasingly nervous. He could feel his heart beginning to pound, his mouth running dry. Admittedly he felt guilty about finding your personal information like this. Then having the audacity to show up at your front door unannounced. He almost thought about walking away, but then he heard your laugh. The mesmerizing sound of your sweet laughter.

Sam cleared his throat, before knocking on your door. It was quiet for a moment, the sound of locks being unlocked filling his ears. Timidly you pulled the door open, surprised to see anyone at your doorstep. Your eyes widened at the sight of Sam, shocked he was standing in front of you.

“Sam?”

Sam could feel his heart pounding louder, adrenaline running through his veins. He brushed past you, entering the apartment. You awkwardly closed the door, more confused than anything. “I know this is inappropriate but I can’t stop thinking about you,” Sam confessed. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. “I don’t know why, but ever since that night at the wedding I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. It’s been driving me crazy,” He continued, rambling on.

You tilted your head to the side as you watched him pace back and forth like a madman. “I have tried everything in my power to move on. But I can’t. Your pussy is like fucking heroin, okay? And I can’t stop thinking about you and that night,” Sam babbled. His tongue was moving a mile a minute, showing no signs of slowing down.

“Do you know how many times i’ve jerked off to the thought of you? Just the mere thought? You’re so addicting that I-”

An awkward cough came from behind him, your roommate gawking at the blonde in front of her. She looked back and forth from you to him, as if she was trying to process what was happening. “This is Sam?” She asked, dumbfounded. Sam felt his face turn red as his eyes flickered back and forth from you to her. Your face was nearly as dark as his.

“Uh huh.”

“The Sam that fucked you at the wedding?”

“Uh huh.”

“The same guy who made you cum like five times-”

“Emma!”

Emma raised her hands in defeat, sliding off of her chair. “I’m going to let you guys uh, figure this out,” She said. You watched as she walked over to the stairs, nodding profusely and giving you two thumbs up. You refrained from face palming, turning your attention back to Sam.

Sam was tongue tied, to say the very least. He was filled with embarrassment, his red face telling you everything you needed to know. You approached Sam slowly, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Did you mean that?” You asked softly. Sam worked up the courage to meet your eyes, looking down at you. Your hands on his shoulders was enough to make butterflies fly around in his stomach.

“Mean what?”

“Everything you just said.”

Sam was dumbfounded by your question. Had he not been clear enough?

“If you asked me to get on my knees and beg you to fuck me id do it without a second thought.”

You bit your bottom lip, eyeing Sam’s body.

“And Colby?”

He raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side.

“What about him?”

You sighed, taking a step closer to him.

“Does he have any idea about this? About us?”

The blonde took a moment to rack his brain, searching for any clues he might’ve accidentally left. Obviously he hadn’t said a word to Colby, refraining from bringing you up at all. If he happened to bring you up, Sam would change the topic immediately. “No he doesn’t,” He answered honestly. You pressed your body against his, the room seemingly growing to a hundred degrees. “He’s going to find out eventually you know, are you going to be able to handle that?” You asked.

Handle being skinned alive by Colby? Piece of cake. An absolute walk in the park. Sam would do it in a heartbeat, all for you. “Yeah,” Sam agreed. His eyes darted down to your lips, the urge to kiss you overwhelming him.

“I think you should stay for a while.”

Sam couldn’t help himself, the blonde leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. They were as soft and plump as he remembered, your arms wrapping around his neck. As delicate as the kiss was, Sam remembered a very important part of why he was addicted to you. You liked it fucking rough.

Sam’s hands slithered down to your waist, pulling you closer to him as if you were going to disappear. “Jump for me,” He whispered, his lips refusing to stray from yours. You did as he asked, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your back roughly hit your living room wall, knocking over a couple of photo frames off of a shelf. You gasped as you heard them clatter to the floor, Sam’s lips trailing down your face to the side of your neck.

“Sam be careful, I do have a roommate you know,” You whimpered, his lips preoccupied with littering your neck with hickies. His hips grinded against yours, your core beginning to throb with desire. “She’ll be fine, you can tell her about the five more orgasms I give you,” Sam purred, licking the side of your neck. His lips trailed up to your ear, nibbling at it gently. You groaned his name, tugging at his blonde hair.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” Sam confessed, his hips bucking against yours. You giggled, meeting his gaze. “You better fuck me like you mean it then,” You replied. Sam smirked at your response. He carried you over to the couch, tugging at the hem of your shirt. He needed to see you, to feel you. You both stripped each other, desperate to see the other one exposed. Sam tried to ignore his raging boner as he admired you.

“Fuck, you’re ethereal,” Sam praised. He lowered himself down to your stomach, teasingly pressing kisses down to your cunt. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders. Purposefully he fanned his hot breath over your folds, your cunt dripping in arousal. “So wet, this all for me?” Sam asked. You attempted to push him into your cunt, his head not moving.

“Sammy, no teasing, please,” You whined. Sam wasn’t one to deny you of that, lowering himself into your cunt. His tongue lapped at your slick like a starved man, rotating licking to sucking at your clit. Roughly he brought two fingers to your entrance, relishing in the feeling of your walls struggling to take his fingers. Your juices coated his chin, his eyes meeting yours. “How are you going to take my cock if you’re struggling to take my fingers?” Sam asked teasingly. You moaned in response, his fingers curling and hitting your g spot.

You threw your head back, squeezing your thighs around Sam’s head. A sharp slap landed on your inner thigh, a gasp escaping your lips. “Look at me, fucking look at me as you become a stupid slut for me,” Sam ordered. You had no room to argue, your body a slave to the pleasure. Sam matched your energy, providing you with the rough dominant rough sex you craved. You forced yourself to maintain eye contact with him, your sinful moans bouncing off of the living room walls.

“Thats right, moan just like that. Let Emma and all of your neighbors know who this cunt belongs to,” Sam growled. His fingers were merciless, a third finger sliding into you. Your hands flew down to his hair, tugging at the roots as a knot began forming into your stomach. Your eyes were threatening to flutter shut, every ounce of energy you had dedicated to maintaining eye contact.

“Awe are you close already?” Sam smirked, your orgasm growing closer and closer. He spread open your folds, admiring your cunt. “Fuck, i’m going to fuck you so stupid,” He grumbled, reattaching his mouth to your clit. His strong hands forced your legs open, your thighs trembling as you came. Sam’s lips were relentless, sucking and swirling around your clit as you came on his face. As you rode out your high you threw your head back, your heart racing.

Sam couldn’t hide his ego as he emerged from between your legs. “On your knees, slut. Now,” He barked. You scrambled to meet his command, your knees hitting the wooden floor. “Open your mouth for me,” He snarled. The moment you did so his cum soaked fingers were shoved in your mouth, all three of them. You did the best you could to suck them clean, the taste of your own juices coating your tongue. You swirled your tongue around his fingers, teasing him.

“Thats a good girl,” Sam purred in satisfaction. He removed his fingers from your mouth, eagerly replacing them with his cock. Your mouth was heaven, Sam watching in amazement as you began taking him further without a second thought. He hadn’t even needed to tell you to. “You’re so fucking perfect,” Sam muttered, grabbing your hair. He ensured to make it into a nice ponytail, before forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat.

The sound of you gagging was pure ecstasy. Sam admired as saliva dripped down the sides of your mouth. Down to your chin. Then pooling onto the wooden floor in front of your knees. The blonde couldn’t think straight as his hips moved on their own, lost in his own personal euphoria as he face fucked you. You did your best to maintain eye contact with him, tears flooding your waterline. “You’re such a whore, fuck,” Sam groaned.

He briefly yanked you off of his cock, watching you gasp for gulps of air. Saliva dripped down his cock, tears officially spilling from your waterline. Sam’s cock twitched at the sight, your mouth reattaching itself to him. Mesmerized, Sam watched as you sucked his cock, your tongue swirling and wrapping around his tip. Sam whimpered as his own high came quickly, the blonde yanking you off of him. Your name was a mantra as he came, jerking his cock in front of you.

You flattened your tongue across your bottom lip, his ropes of cum painting your face. You swallowed what seed landed on your tongue, the rest of his cum staining his face. Sam guided you over to the couch. You stood eagerly, awaiting his instructions. “Cmere, come ride my thigh,” He said plainly. You planted yourself on his thigh, a whimper escaping your lips as your clit brushed against his bare skin. You went to wipe off your face, the blonde grabbing your wrist.

“No. Ride my thigh with my cum on your face. Show me that’s how much of a whore you are,” Sam ordered. You grabbed onto Sam’s thigh for support, steadying yourself before slowly rolling your hips downwards. You couldn’t hide your whimpers, your clit overstimulated. Sam watched in awe, your hips slowly grinding against him. “Go faster,” Sam commanded. He didn’t want to be easy on you, he wanted to see you squirm.

Your thighs shook as you attempted to follow his command, your cheeks turning a shade of bright red as the humiliation set in. You weren’t going fast enough for Sam, his large hands grabbing your waist. His fingers dug into your skin harshly, guiding you to ride his thigh faster. “Sam- Feels so good, I- fuck,” You slurred. Your hips struggled to keep up with Sam’s movements, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt your second orgasm coming.

Sam could feel himself growing hard again at the sight of you, blood rushing to his shaft as you pathetically did everything in your power to cum. “Cum for me, now,” Sam ordered. Unholy mantras of Sam’s name slipped from your lips, your thighs trembling as you came on his thigh. You felt dazed, your body trembling as Sam’s strong hands held you in place.

He lovingly brought his hand to your cheek, ignoring the cum that was gathering on his thumb. “You think you can handle me?” He asked gently. You mumbled an agreement, lifting your head to meet his eyes. You grabbed his wrist, redirecting his thumb into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around it, swallowing his cum. “Filthy filthy girl,” Sam muttered, guiding you into the next position.

You found yourself on the couch on all fours, ass in the air as Sam admired you. Your arch was divine, one he had seen before and had been yearning for all of this time. Teasingly he rubbed his tip up and down your slick, lubricating his cock for you. His eyes gleamed with pride as you squirmed at the slightest feeling of his tip brushing against your clit. One thing that Sam remembered, on top of everything else, was that you didn’t like to wait.

Aligning himself with your entrance, he quickly pushed himself inside. Sam would be fine with taking things slow, allowing your body to adjust to his cock. But you preferred to be slammed into, enjoying the pain that ever so slowly faded into pleasure. Sam let out a shaky groan as he bottomed out, euphoria clouding his senses.

Sam had traveled all over the world trying to forget about you, trying to seek paradise. One that would bring him to the state of blissful peace. But as his cock brushed against your g spot, the sweet sound of your whimpers flooding his ears, he came to a realization. Sam’s personal paradise was being buried into your cunt. Nothing else on the planet compared to the way you squeezed him, begged for him, kissed him, moaned for him. His paradise, overall, was you.

The blonde began moving his hips, your groans growing louder. Your walls clenched around him as Sam picked up the pace, he began panting curses with mixes of your name. “You feel so fucking tight, shit,” Sam groaned. He leaned over further, grabbing a handful of your hair as his cock abused your cervix. “You’re mine. My personal cock slut, understand?” He growled. He pushed your face into the couch, his cum staining the fabric below you.

“Y-yes sir,” You babbled, your body on cloud nine. Your thighs began to shake with every thrust, your body overstimulated and complete putty in Sam’s hands. Sam’s fast paced thrust were becoming greedy, the desire for him to reach his own high clouding his judgment. “Look at you, staining your couch with my cum all because I told you to. Such a pathetic whore for me,” Sam rambled, his hands digging into the sides of your waist.

You could feel your final orgasm approaching, your waterline flooded with tears as they dripped down your cheeks. “Sammy, gonna cum, please, don’t stop,” You pleaded. You tilted your head back, looking up at Sam as he pounded into you. His hand left your hair, slithering down to your throat. He squeezed the sides, restricting your airway. “Go on then, cum on my cock,” Sam muttered, thrust away from orgasming himself.

Your walls spasmed around his cock, your eyes fluttering shut as Sam fucked you through your orgasm. You were seeing stars, your final orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. Sam pulled out quickly, his ropes of cum painting your ass and lower back.

He felt euphoric, the paradise he had been seeking right in front of him, covered in his cum. Your body was spent, your heart pounding in your chest as you came down from your high. Sam scrambled to find something to clean you up with, deciding his shirt would have to suffice. He wiped his seed off of your ass, gently helping you roll over onto your back.

A faint smile creeped across your lips, your mascara smudged and running down your cheeks. “The cumming on my face thing was hot, we should do that again,” You admitted, allowing Sam to clean your face. He chuckled at your confession, admiring your fresh face.

“I figured you’d like it.”

With all of the energy you had left you lifted your head, bringing your lips to his. This kiss was different, the desperation gone. Replaced with a certain sweetness and passion Sam hadn’t felt in a long time. His hands cupped your face, deepening the kiss. The sound of his ringtone, halted him from continuing. He mumbled an apology, digging his phone out of his discarded jeans.

“Oh shit it’s Colby, hang on.” Sam informed you. He resumed his place beside you on the floor, your soft lips leaving pecks of kisses on his shoulder.

“Hey brother, what’s up?”

“You want to explain to me why you’re at my little sister’s dorm?”

Shit.

#sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam golbach #colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x colby brock #sam golbach x reader

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chihoshisai · 1 day

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Guitarist Ace

Ace x Reader

cw : established relationship, cursing, angst, hurt with no comfort, ace is a guitarist in a band, mention of sex, oral and fingering, drinking // wc : 1,755K words // also on ao3

A Drowned Temper

Ace was a good boyfriend.

Until he started drinking.

He was a good drunk — lively, sometimes the life of the party and occasionally he would black out. Though only for a moment, as he would regain consciousness soon enough for people to assume he wasn't completely wasted. But that was on the good nights, where his band did a good liveshow, when tickets were sold out and everything seemed to go without trouble. During the afterparties, he was loving. Towards his members, towards you and even towards any strangers who happened to cross paths with him as the heat of alcohol flushed his body. And you enjoyed that — the way he would whispers hushed affection in your ears, how his hands would travel across the parts of your body he usually was too prude to touch in public, how he easily egged you into joining the fun despite your claims that someone needed to stay sober to watch river the group. Even though that someone was frequently you.

This part of Ace was fiery, far from the heat he demonstrated on stage. A contagious side of him that left you worried as you watched him drink and drink and drink some more. With no words of concern holding the power to stop him from intoxicating his system. Only when he stopped waking up from his occasional black outs did you put down your soft drink, bid goodnight to the other members of the band, and drag him into a taxi to finally reach the destination of his apartment. It wasn't too much to handle.

But the thing with alcohol is that once you're used to it, once your body is used to handling it, it becomes a habit. A habit that becomes harder and harder to control the more accessible drinks are to you. The more often they are offered to you. And Ace found himself a victim of all of it. He was an accustomed drinker, his body had built a tolerance. A threshold that he would often go beyond, under the sheer fortunate glasses that would be handed to him during dîners with recording companies as he pitched the idea of his group, and sometimes his bandmates who wanted to drink after a long week of practice sessions. Or by walking down to the convenience store on his day off because he simply wanted to drink. And sometimes pressure.

Being the guitarist and leader of a four people band was fucking exhausting. Like really. It was a group effort but being the glue to the group, the representative, could be stifling. Shouldering the dreams and hopes of everyone, as they applied and auditioned to countless record companies was stressful. What with the sheer reality of being rejected once again hitting everyone like a hard heavy truck, Ace had to be the one to keep the smile going on his face. Telling everyone that it would be okay. That they would do better next time. Or that the recording company sucked ass and they're worth more than they could imagine. Most importantly that they were still doing pretty well hosting their own shows at live houses, even gathering their own fanbase.

If he showed weakness during these times what would become of their group. What if everyone lost hope? What if they all went their separate way? He had worked ridiculously hard to get to that point. To find his members. To create the group. There was no way in hell that he would allow it to dissolve into nothing. And over what? A few rejections from power and money hungry old conglomerate bastards? Over his dead body. All that to say that Ace dealt with a lot, felt a lot and lived through a lot.

Meaning he needed a drink.

Sometimes more than he needed you.

Now, you were probably the brightest light of hope and inspiration in Ace's life. Being his girlfriend meant listening to his music whenever you or he pleased, witnessing their practice sessions, getting to know the other members, walking home late, hand in hand, as he shared his aspirations for the future, his eyes glazed with passion. Late night calls where he'd ask for your thoughts on this new melody he thought of while you sleepily yawned that it was 3am, but he would argue that he wanted you to be the first to hear it. On the times he would invite you to sleep over, his floor hidden underneath piles of clothes though not without empty bottles, he would sheepishly pick them up saying not to mind the mess though you assured with a grin that you saw nothing.

Until the curtains of night fell and he would fuck, lick and finger your cunt until you were either visibly pleased or begging him to stop while being a drooling mess. Ace would then gently stroke your hair, whisper how much you meant to him. How much he loved you, the words sweet in your ears, before he grabbed his acoustic guitar and played a ballad that would proficiently lull you to sleep.

The next morning you would wake up, not to the soreness of your body but to the savory smell of breakfast waltzing its way throughout the house. With your eyes peeking open to the empty place next to you, your steps would instinctively lead you to the kitchen, where you'd wrap yourself around Ace, the chimes of good mornings and kisses filling the soft golden room that basked in the sun before eating breakfast together while making small talk. You were happy. You were both happy.

Not being part of the group meant that they were hidden sides of him you got to see. Some more often than others. And some more bittersweet than you'd like to admit. Oftentimes, you blamed the industry, feeling that they were purposely sabotaging the band rather than the pressure Ace put on himself. Even as his count of drinks kept going up on the bad days, you had decided to stop by his place for once out of worry, but mostly to offer support along with a shoulder to lean on as his partner. Like a storm you always showed up banging on his door to make sure he would hear it over the rhythm of his guitar.

The ceaseless noise, rattling at Ace's brain, irritated him. He wondered which of his band members had come and for what reason when they knew he preferred to be left alone on days like these. Though since they were a team, it made him feel like the world turned agaisn't him everytime he was having a bad day. And with each pound of the door he found himself unable to mute the sound from his mind, forcing his feets to trail towards the door, his right hand opening a crack to reveal his head while his left hand remained hidden with a bottle nestled in it.

“What do you fucking want,” he slurred, before releasing a sigh once he recognized the person behind. “Oh, it's just you,” he let himself disappear behind the dusk of his place, visibly unaware of the alarmed expression that settled on your face while he left the door to hang open for you to slip in.

“Ace are you alright?” You asked, following him inside, feeling a pit form in your stomach at the sight of bottles that lined up on the floor, the place looking messier than you had ever seen. “I heard from Marco about what happened. Do you want to talk about it?”

Standing in his living room, a hand pressing the bridge of his nose while an exasperated sigh escaped his lips, Ace tried not to blame his member for blabbering like that. “Are you here to give me a pep talk?” He gave you a stern look, eyebags clouding his face, a tint of red blurring the white of his eyes from a sleepless night while he stood shirtless, dressed in nothing but shorts.

“No I'm not.”

“Good. Because I really am not in the mood for it,” he exhaled from his nose before swallowing a swig of his drink.

“I just wanted to make sure that you're okay,” you spoke in an hesitating voice, slightly taken aback by his attitude.

“Well clearly I'm not and there's nothing you can do about it,” he shook his head, seemingly as though to say can't you see how I look.

You tempted a few careful steps towards him while you spoke, “Ace, why don't you slow down on the drinks a little,” you reached out a hand, slowly almost as if you were scared to frighten him. “I think you've had enough for today,” as your hand further approached it was met with the empty air due to the recoil of Ace's hand.

“Don't try to tell me how much I can drink,” Ace involuntarily raised his tone. Surely it wasn't him speaking, but the alcohol, right? “Who do you think you are?” He didn't mean for the words to sound so harsh. But they did.

“I'm your girlfriend,” your voice broke in your throat, memories of your time together flashing in your mind. “Does that not mean anything to you?”

“Certainly not now,” he began before pointing a finger in your direction. “Look, you're not a musician, you can't understand how shitty it can be, how fucked up my reality is and how we are not in this together. You're a bystander that can only cheer for me from a distance, okay.”

The burning heat of the words that charred your skin, along with the rapid heartbeats that mingled to create a pained expression to form on your features made you question the tangibility behind the shared past that slowly turned into bitterness. “It doesn't mean I can't empathize with you,” your voice pleaded, finding itself unable to get upset at his words.

“Sympathy is not what I need right now. It is not going to do shit for me!” Ace boomed in your face. His temper had completely slipped out of his grasp. “If you want to help, go home.”

“Ace,” your voice cracked as you shook your head, tears glistening in the corners of your eyes.

“Go home!” He yelled, pointing towards the door. And as he watched you go with tears streaming down on your cheeks, relief and anger conflicted inside him, before he went to sit down on his couch and drown in the sweet toxin of alcohol.

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 23 hours

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04/28/24 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Nathan Foad; Damien Gerard; Watch Parties; Fan Spotlight; Cast Cards; OFMD Colouring Pages; Community Q's Love Notes; Daily Darby / Today's Taika;

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= David Jenkins =

I think this picture speaks for itself.

Img Src: @simonenathan Twitter

= Nathan Foad =

More Love's Labour's Lost with Nathan! So good to see him having such a great time!

Img Src: Nathan's IG

= Damien Gerard =

Our crewmate @/rosiemegglemoth on twitter saw Damien this weekend and he got to meet little Edward! I've seen Edward travel all over the place and I'm loving that he and Damien got to meet up <3 Thank you Rosy Meggie Moth for letting me share this with everyone!

@rosiemegglemoth's Twitter

== Watch Parties ==

= Palm Royale =

Palm Royale WP May 2 via @LCWebsXOXO with the lovely @/dominicburgess approx. 4pm EDT/9pm BST/1pm PST!

= Wrecked Season 1 =

Another week of Wrecked Season 1 is on the docket! Don't have access? Reach out to me on @gentlebeardsbarngrill on tumblr, or @aspirantabby42 on twitter.

Days: Apr 29 - May 3

Times: 3:30 pm PT / 6:30 pm ET / 11:30 pm BST

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Tonight's cast card is Pop Pop's Son! Thanks @melvisik for bringing him in too! I thought he looked familiar.

== OFMD Colouring Pages ==

Thank you @patchworkpiratebear for more colouring pages! This time featuring Calypso's Birthday!

== Community Q's ==

Starting something new today friends! I want to hear from you all!

What's your favorite interview featuring the OFMD cast?

It could be just Rhys or Taika and Rhys, or just David, or just Samson, or any number of cast members! It could even just be an interview of a cast member for another movie or show they did (doesn't have to be ofmd related except that an actor/actress also played in OFMD)! I just would love to hear what your favorite cast interviews are-- and if you have a link to it even better!

== Love Notes ==

Hey Lovelies. I'm sorry it's been so hard lately. Everyone I talk to seems to be struggling in one way or another right now, and I know it's been a lot. Remember to vent if you can-- even if a lots been happening for a while, you're not a burden if you need to vent again.

We all go through so much in our lives, and sometimes those hard times go for a lot longer than we'd like, we're allowed to be just as frustrated with them as we were the first as the 100th day we're dealing with them.

But you know what? You're so incredibly resilient lovelies. Seriously, look at you. Look at you getting through each day even when things are tough. If you had a great day, or you cried your eyes out, the fact that you're still here is so incredibly important.

YOU are so incredibly important. I know sometimes it feels like we are our struggles, but you are so very much more than them. Your struggles might be chronic, you may never be rid of them, or they may be temporary, so please, feel them, fight them, experience them, learn from them, but know that when you come out of them at the end of the day you are not those struggles.

They influence you, and they are a piece of you, but they are not the whole of you. You are a wonderful, kind, an beautiful individual that means so much to so many people, and you are so very complex and you have so many sides to you.

You are wonderful lovelies. Remember that. Good luck this week, I'm rooting for you so hard.

Img Src: @goldiealexx Instagram

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

I always come back to this being one of my favorite interviews so that's tonight's theme, fav interviews. Today's gif courtesy of @celluloidbroomcloset

#daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #rhys darby #taika waititi #save ofmd #ofmd #our flag means death #damien gerard #nathan foad #david jenkins #chaos dad #watch parties

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rubenhopclap · 10 hours

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Ruben has (wild magic?) sorc levels: the post

Ruben has fewer bard levels than Oisin has wizard levels.

Ruben's bardic during the fight with Grix was a d8. This limits him to a maximum of 9 bard levels. (Level 10 Bards get a d10 bardic). Whereas, the tattoos that Oisin talked about at the party have effects that match Focused Conjuration, which Conjuration wizards get at level 10.

There's other points I have about this, like "the RGs shouldn't be underleveled compared to the BKs, otherwise uhh what's the point." I believe people have also mapped out how Mary Ann could get the modifier that she needed to wipe the field with Gorgug so hard and she would also probably be higher level than 9.

I think Oisin is the most clear proof of a discrepancy though. So, either Ruben is underleveled compared to other members of his party, not even just the BKs, or he's a multiclasser.

But which other class?

I am going to assume for a second that he's an official multiclasser who actually attends classes.

In that case it's probably not any of the classes where the BKs have had actual scenes this year. And thanks to Fig they've covered a few. There's only Druid, Ranger, Monk, and Sorc that the BKs haven't covered at all. (I think technically he could be attending Fighter classes and it's justified that Brennan shouldn't have mentioned it because Fabian wasn't really focusing on that. )

But honestly looking at the list, and looking at Ruben, I feel like I don't even have to justify why I think it's probably Sorcerer.

The situation with Jace also makes somewhat more sense (though still sinister sense) if that's actually supposed to be his mentor. "Veteran educators" A vice principal is an administrator. Now yes that whole convo was very "digging at a way, any way, to shut Henry up" . And yes, it was phrased in a very. "We're monitoring everything." Educators, plural. Speaking on behalf of the school, kind of thing. But also Ruben's Bard teacher is on sabbatical? (Which might've been a concern in the letter lol.) I dunno, there's a lot going on here. Also it does make sense to go to Jace with concerns anyway, bc every other adult Henry could talk to has vanished. Including Ruben's Bard teacher, thanks to Fig.

But like. The fuck? He's getting that riled on someone else's behalf? I think the scene reads cleaner if Jace is Ruben's teacher. However he's obviously getting unreasonably aggro either way, so he might just be that much more unreasonably aggro that this is in defense of Lucilla Lullaby. But say that he is a sorc. Which subclass? There's a couple that would be cool. But Wild Magic has one edge on the others. It would give Ruben a reason not to have used any spell slots against Grix. He probably had to use his Action to rock every turn. But he used a bonus action to give a bardic, so he should still be able to cast bonus action spells. Except if he's a wild magic sorcerer, then if he uses a spell slot he could end up casting Fireball on the stage or necromantically draining his whole band, etc. Counterpoint: he used some kind of illusion earlier. Probably true! So maybe he's not a wild magic subclass, or maybe he has a magic item. Or maybe he just had everyone stand far enough away from him to probably be safe when he cast that.

I won't be hugely shocked if this turns out not to be true. But in the meantime I've realized that I have just sort of accepted that it is (at least the sorc part), and I assume that it's true when I think about the scene with Henry etc.

#fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #ruben hopclap #I reference this theory in other posts but I realized I don't have a post where I lay the whole thing out anymore

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password-door-lock · 2 days

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Content warning: manipulation

Unknown has never been very big on giving comfort— or so he tells himself as you sob into his jacket. You’re grabbing fistfuls of leather, trying your hardest to pull him close, though of course, it doesn’t really do much— you’re not very strong. It wouldn’t take very much effort at all for Unknown to simply push you away. But he allows you to cling to him. With one hand, he returns your embrace, and with the other, he pets your hair.

Does that really make anything better? Unknown can’t imagine that it would. If he were in your position, he’d want to be alone. In fact, he’d be shoving people out of his way, yelling, screaming, and slamming doors just to get some peace and fucking quiet. He’d destroy the contents of whatever room he’d manage to lock himself in, and only then, only after all of that, only with no other options, would he allow himself to break down crying. He certainly wouldn’t do it in front of anybody else.

“Shhh,” he hushes you. Unknown assures himself that he’s only doing this because he wants you to shut up, not because he cares about your feelings enough to actively soothe you. Why would he give a shit about your feelings? He only brought you here in the first place because he thought that it would hurt those liars, and your time in the apartment did not instill him with very much confidence in your ability to handle important tasks.

You respond by nuzzling his chest and, in doing so, staining his jacket with salt. Unlike all those times when you attempted to initiate a text conversation with him, you don't seem to have very much to say. “Quiet. You did fine.” The comfort that he offers is stiff and unnatural, but that doesn’t seem to bother you as you gaze at him.

If only he had something he could use to wipe your face. You’re such a mess, with snot and tears everywhere— seriously, he’s probably going to have to get a new jacket. You blink the tears out of your eyes. “You don’t hate me?”

This isn’t such a bad question. Theoretically speaking, Unknown has every reason to hate you— you did ruin his original plan, after all. You could at least have spoken to the RFA and emailed a couple of potential party guests— that would be enough to bring those people to paradise. Instead, you sat around doing nothing, waiting around for somebody to tell you what to do. In that sense, Unknown supposes, it’s his own fault for not giving you clear instructions, and besides— it’s touching to think that you’re so torn up about causing a minor setback for him. You barely know him— you’ve been here less than a day— and already you’re loyal enough to shed tears over the idea of inconveniencing Unknown.

But, then again, he’s been monitoring the RFA messenger, and actually, your disappearance has done a lot to disrupt the typical functioning of the organization. Thanks to you, he’ll be able to sway the RFA to his savior’s side, anyway, though it’ll take a bit longer than he initially planned. “Prince(ss),” he coos, patronizing you. It’s to keep you where he wants you, he assures himself, ignoring all the other reasons he could have to behave this way. He has no reason to care about your feelings, no reason to want to make you more comfortable, especially not if you’ve already bought into the doctrine of the Mint Eye. One little speech was all it took to get you to abandon everything you thought you knew about the RFA— but, then again, that speech was quite a lot longer than any conversation you’ve ever had with any of those liars. “If I hated you, I think you’d know it by now, hm?”

“You’re not mad?” You try again, eyes shining as you gaze up at him.

Unknown ruffles your hair. It actually feels good to know that he can make you feel better so easily. “No,” he informs you flatly. He supposes he can’t really blame you for not wanting to talk to the boring and selfish members of the RFA— though he doesn’t say that aloud. He doesn’t owe you his reasoning. Unknown does not owe a thing to anybody, with the notable exception of his savior.

“Okay.” You continue to cling to him like a lifeline, as though your well being truly does depend on it. He supposes that if you really thought that way, you wouldn’t necessarily be wrong— after all, Unknown is the one who can decide what to do with you. “Thank you for saving me,” you breathe. This is music to his fucking ears.

Unknown continues petting your hair. Within the next few hours, he and his Savior will have a new and better plan. Within the next few days, if everything goes as he expects it to, Unknown will have his revenge. No thanks to you, he supposes, but still— even if you couldn’t handle working as his eyes, you’ll make fantastic bait. “You’re very welcome, prince(ss).”

#tw: manipulation #I've been writing so much soft Unknown x Assistant MC lately #I feel like I've been neglecting his creepy side lol #So here he is being a little bit nefarious #mystic messenger #mystic messenger drabble #choi saeran #saeran choi #unknown mystic messenger

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mugwot · 2 months

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sometimes you sound bit too mean, it happens

it was Supposed to be in colour, and them the bw version Just Looked better

this is mostly based on this meme

#biggest thanks to the person in the discord who just i guess had this screenshot On Hands?? i would not be able to find it #kinda feel like im burning out with art #should take a rest probably #isat #in stars and time #is this spoilers??? probably not??? maybe??? will tag in case #isat spoilers #isat siffrin #isat isabeau #is mostly there as eye candy #any one of the party members could be there #the attitudes would be different tho #i like having at least a vague sense of blackstory for things like this so isa has just finished shopping for fabricks #a long and arduous process in my experience #i feel so bad that i cant draw stylish clothes isa deserves better but i am supremely unfashionable #my art #comic

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epiclad · 7 months

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Bregan D'aerthe Still on a mad BG3 kick… so here I am doing more FR stuff in my spare time! Redid an old Bregan D'aerthe piece from 2010. Tried for a "Randomly stumble upon a hidden area in the Undercity Ruins only to be greeted in the dark by an unusual collection of brigands led by an even more unusual drow" type scene, because lord knows I desperately wanted that to happen.

Modelled Jarlaxle's face after Richard O'Brien (because if you're as old as I am and you've seen him on The Crystal Maze… you'll know why I can't imagine anyone else as Jarlaxle).

Mood music

#my art #forgotten realms #bregan d'aerthe #squeezed in as much members as i could remember who weren't currently dead #valas hune is the one with the bow #angsty drow wizard is up on the balcony if only because after rai-guy i can't seem to remember any other wizards in their little club #and lord knows any good party needs its spellcaster #also i had fun dressing jarlaxle up like a pirate

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sesamenom · 15 days

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alright you’ve been extremely extremely kind and indulgent to me about my oc and i cannot possibly thank you enough <333333 so MY turn now to ask YOU about YOURS. please tell me about maglor’s distant granddaughter who is also your bbeg?? .w. or about the chatty hobbits i would very VERY much love to hear about both!!!

~ @nelyoslegalteam, reporting from main <3

(long post, sorry for the random people stumbling upon this lol)

so I'm the dm for the chatty hobbits campaign and essentially it's set in a beleriand-adjacent continent, but with a few extra races and stuff. of the founders of the original settlements, the king of elende (the elf kingdom) is Gil-galad's (invented for the campaign) twin brother Finellach/Finwain. originally he was inspired by the fact that gil galad has a ton of names but only uses ereinion/gil, so I just invented a new character and gave him half the names. I headcanon gil galad as maglor's son, so finwain is in universe maglor's son (left at the havens with gil bc his wife divorced him for kinslaying and his kingdom, being next door neighbors with morgoth, is far too dangerous for small children).

Anyways, his descendant Elinyel (also known as aramire or elinnor) is the current queen of Elende! she's an evil fire-themed bard who is extremely feanorian in all the worst ways - her actual kingdom prospered under her reign, but she just does not care about everyone else as long as she's protecting her people. There were some tensions with one of the major kingdoms to the north (conflict over unclaimed territory between the kingdoms and some tariff stuff), so instead of risking the other kingdom starting a war and hurting her people, she just preemptively invaded it and started burned all the border territories to the ground.

her actual coronation was pretty weird- so she's the second child, but her older sister was born in wartime and there's a general belief in elende that children of peacetime make better rulers, so Elinyel was chosen as her family's heir. her grandfather (the crown prince of his generation) died defending Elende in one of the major wars, but his younger brother and two young kids survived. there's a whole feud between their houses because the brother chose to retain the kingship even after the kids were old enough to take the throne. anyways, two generations later Elinyel killed her cousin Arendil (the previous king of Elende) over a dispute about the legitimacy of his house (and what she believed to be a dishonoring of her grandparents' sacrifice) and took the throne.

obviously she has many Issues. arendil also has two surviving kids who are now essentially trying to stop her from murdering all their neighbors in proactive defense of her people.

however, when she first ascended she recruited her friend group as her elite guard/vassals of the kingdom. (aka the other bosses in the storyline). so it escalated to a war between her forces and the children of arendil, which ultimately culminated in her beloved sister being killed by one of arendil's children. this in turn led to her having basically a massive mental breakdown and feeling like she failed to protect her loved ones (exacerbated by some of her other friends being killed in battles she led). a normal person might decide this is was kind of her fault for starting a war and putting her friends in charge of the army. instead she decided she needed to destroy everyone who could ever potentially pose a threat. which is, in her eyes, literally everyone on the continent (except for her kingdom, of course).

so now she is at war with absolutely everyone of all factions! She is also somehow winning by virtue of Song almost on the level of maglor himself, and ten (now six) also incredibly powerful friends. Anyways, she has decided that the best way to wipe out the continent (except her kingdom) and start fresh is to literally find an ancient lost stone that can break the Doors of Night, summon Morgoth himself, and start the Dagorath. obviously this will Not go well for anyone at all if she succeeds, but she is on a full-on rampage and genuinely believes she (plus friends) can protect her kingdom from Morgoth's army while he wipes out everyone else.

Here's some old art of her btw!

And some slightly more recent unfinished art of her and the Evil Friend Group from when they were younger:

and here's (L-R) her cousin who is the 3rd boss, Elinyel, and her sister from before the war!

#asks #THANK YOU FOR THIS BTW #i only have 1 friend irl who plays dnd and is also not affiliated with the campaign #and they aren't a silm person #so i cannot talk w anyone irl about the Lore #one of the few kingdoms who could really oppose her is the magic one #bc max level wizards might as well be ainur and the monarch of the magic kingdom is Very Powerful #however. said monarch is also the twin sibling of one of elinyel's friends #(who is also an evil lich now and also maybe dating a diff friend who is an evil sorceror? not sure of details yet)#so the super powerful battlemage monarch is remaining Politically Neutral so they don't have to fight their literal evil twin #currently the party is level 6 and just defeated the very-weakened wraith of one of the friends #she was a druid but sort of decayed when she was corrupted and was kidnapping untrained/low level sorcs as servants to siphon power from #and also living in the Grove of Resurrection in order to stay intact #i forgot her dialogue while running the battle so while i looked through my docs i just had her say 'loading please wait' lol #also more chatty hobbit stuff #the grove is a huge grassy area with a walking tree in the middle #so the whole thing is constantly roaming aroudn #the wraith-druid had her castle built on it so she could have a moving castle that also heals her #the grassy part will resurrect any dead thing put on it #for the battle they had to drag her off the grass in order to kill her #technically shes been dead for some years but is surviving via constant contact w the grove #the hobbit (Shade) is from the Alder family who has historically been the guardians of the grove #he discovered he could talk to the tree in the middle and immediately started trying to figure out a way he could use the grove to #clone one of the party members #the tree does not approve of intentionally cutting off people's arms to see if it regenerates into a clone lol #oh! and they found anglachel in the grove. the dragonborn monk wants to keep it

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