#fel-kin

[mystic-realm-of-magic]

Updated cards

#hymortal #faye-kin #fel-kin #feylock #naphalim #demide #mythic #mortal

[spurkspaint]

https://m.soundcloud.com/zellaku/watamote-x-magnolia

how you fsslifn about thi

idk how to feel about this 😭😭😭

#sandpaper kinning #sandpaper answers stupid shit #rei hqow do i fel baout this

[rainbowmothed]

── I'M NOT A VIOLENT ANGEL. I DON'T KNOW WHY I BITE.

· ★ · basically just me rewriting vaggie's fall + chaggie first meeting. trigger warning for blood, gore, murder, classic extermination stuff!

Vaggie felt the pressure settle on her shoulders as she spread her wings, lines of black smearing across the crimson sky of the underworld in a flurry of feathers as she and her kin descended from the beaming light illuminating the once darkened sky, atmosphere thick with the already fresh scent of bitter blood.

Guilt was all Vagatha could manage to muster in her soul, her very being. She never liked to be an exterminator. She didn't know why– most of her kin adored slaughtering the “demon scum” of the underworld. And Vaggie knew she was no different than them, no less shameful in comparison despite feeling butterflies churn in her stomach before she drew her angelic spear. Six years she had spent as one of Adam's top girls, always cast to be on the front lines, praised by her peers for being one of the most merciless, blood-thirsty ones out there.

And oh, how she despised it with every single fiber of her being.

Vaggie cringed as she remembered the proud slaps on the back and reassuring pats shoulders after every extermination as they rose back to the skies above afterwards, the shouts of “good jobs” and “that was even better than last year” filling the air, choking her, suffocating her as the words shoved their way down her throat until soft tears pricked her eyes and her skin flustered with shameful heat.

God, she hated her job. And it was strange. She was created for this. Created in the Heavens for the sole purpose of reigning massacre upon people who were seen as nothing more than the dirt under their heels, when, in reality, Vaggie knew they were far more than that. They were once human souls, who once had lives, and who once had families, who maybe still did have families. She knew she'd killed at least one husband who had a wife and kids at home, waiting, and one wife or one child. Likely far more than that.

So many denizens had crumbled to their knees at her hands as she lodged the blade of the spear into their flesh. The flesh she was meant to see as worthless, puny, disgusting, sinful. Wretched. But the flesh she saw only bore hints of light, shimmering under the surface, waiting to be unveiled, until it was cut short and dulled as their black blood splattered across the alleyway floors and concrete sidewalks, heads slamming down as they met their gruesome fates. Perished.

And this year, Vagatha knew she would do the same thing. Or rather, should do the same thing. She was given a sharp nod to descend as she continued through the air. Her previous guilty thoughts had made her work up a tad bit of a nervous sweat, so she pulled away the mask that concealed her face, swiping away the sweat that stuck to her forehead like bothersome glue. Not bothering to put it back on, Vaggie simply attached it to her waist, feeling it thud against her hip as she flew down into the alleyway, boots finally making contact with the glass-lined gravel below.

Expecting to see some looming, wretched soul, Vaggie was only greeted with a cowering little child, far younger than her, far less defenseless. Where were its parents? It didn't deserve to fall. Not like this. “Go, run.” Vaggie urged, before she could form a second thought about her own actions, pulling her blade far away from the thing's throat and waving it off. Sparing it. The guilt had become unfathomable, and she was no longer even in control of her own body. Pathetic.

However, the sounds of footsteps behind her made Vagatha quickly snap out of her daze, wings perking up with surprise as she drew her blade, expecting some idiotic, bold sinner, only to feel a hand grasp her shoulder. Vaggie’s eyes widened as her lips parted, attempting to let out a flurry of excuses as she saw Lute’s face before her. Grinning, merciless.

Oh God.

Vaggie let out a shrill shriek of pain as she felt the angelic weapon pierce her eye, gouging it out and letting it roll onto the ground below. Vagatha’s stomach churned with nausea as she naturally fell to her knees, letting out another cry as she felt Lute’s boot press against the top of her skull.

“Traitor scum like you have no place in Heaven.”

Vaggie attempted to choke out a plea, a beg for mercy, but was cut short as she felt Lute’s gloved hands wrap around the base of her wings, pulling back with relentless force as they were ripped from her body, another pathetic splatter of neon green, angelic blood splashing across the ground. Vaggie felt like she was going to retch from the pure amount of adrenaline and pain pumping through her skin, her being, her very soul.

Guilt. Harsher than before.

Guilt for betraying Heaven. Guilt for slaughtering the people of the underworld. Guilt for not living up to her superiors’ standards of her. Guilt for every single thing she had ever done wrong, crashing down on her at once.

—

Vaggie shakily stumbled up to her knees as Adam and Lute walked away, snickering under their breaths and beaming with nothing but pride. No guilt themselves; nothing but happiness and unfiltered glee at finding a traitor amongst their ranks and properly punishing her for it.

All for sparing one measly child.

Vaggie tore away the mask that still hung to her belt, exterminator uniform soaked with blood and torn in some places. In a moment of anguish, mixed in a blurred puddle with hints of anger, she ripped it all from her body, leaving herself in the clothes she had underneath. Vaggie tossed it into the dumpster that lay against the wall of the alleyway, her neon green blood splattering down the side of it as she threw it to be picked later.

Still weakly clutching the spear in her hand, she leaned her back against another dumpster, trying not to brush the stumps of her ripped off wings against anything to prevent any further agonizing pain. She already had plenty of that, her eye now an empty socket, vision nowhere to be found beside the one she still had. Thank Lute for that, she mused. Didn't take her vision completely.

Vagatha was silently praying for some random imp to come pick her off. Finish the game her superiors had started, end her pathetic life once and for all. Lay her corpse against the dirt of the ground she once saw as beneath her. Funny, seeing as how the people she once saw as her victims, albeit with a bit of shame, could slaughter her right here and now with absolute ease.

Vaggie didn't even cry. The tears would've hurt her eye too much. She felt them boiling under the surface, yes, but they never trespassed that burning point, never spilling or teetering over the edge just right to drop. Vagatha soon enough heard footsteps approaching. Great, her future murderer had finally come, just as she felt herself drifting in and out of consciousness due to the sheer amount of blood loss.

Instead of the expression of a cruel murderer, she was greeted by the face of a shocked denizen. Gorgeous, with blonde hair, streaked with honey hues. Pale skin, with rosy cheeks, akin to that of a marionette. Beautiful. If this woman was the last thing Vaggie was to see, she would definitely be able to go out happy compared to her earlier predicament. The bitterness flushed out of her soul as she stared up at the demon, waiting for the blade to press against her neck. For her to end her suffering.

But it didn't.

Instead, a bandage was carefully wrapped around her missing eye, the denizens fingers soft and delicate. Perfect compared to her own, scarred with the memories of the lives that had been taken by them. It made her expression soften. It was the little things that made Vaggie swoon like that, and this was definitely one of those little things.

Was she falling for the woman who she thought was going to slaughter her just a moment ago? It was a tad funny, actually. The flusterment only grew as she saw her tuck a piece of blonde hair behind her porcelain-hued ear, diverting her gaze as she cheekily smiled.

This girl would definitely be the death of Vaggie, but in a completely different way than she was originally anticipating.

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #charlie x vaggie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #chaggie #varlie #rainbowmoth #fanfiction #lesbian #sapphic #bisexual #angst #vaggie #charlotte morningstar #hazbin vagatha #hazbin hotel vagatha #first meeting #fluff #vivziepop #hellaverse #vivzieverse #cute #I LOVE GAY PPL #hazbin hotel lute #lute #adam hazbin hotel #adam hazbin #lute hazbin hotel

[toomanytadpoles]

Redemption theroy

Durge only survived Orin's attack because of being a Bhaalspawn...or was it Bhaal implementing a system reboot. Maybe Orin attacking Durge was more Bhaal than whatever little but of her own will she has. She doesn't block the urges or can't like Durge could/can, and they can be very directed from Bhaal.

Withers says Bhaal only knows parts of Durge, the Urge part. So, was Bhaal was hoping to only bring back the Urge part because he has a backup copy in a way? What if that sort of worked. He can give you back memories where they hate Kethric and Orin, because he knows that part, because that's the part of him, the Bhaalspawn blood. BUT earlier memories before as a child come back only with a heal spell, he can't give those parts back, they have to be resorted from another source than him. He doesn't know those parts.

But you don't really have any memories of Gortash, because those are the ones Bhaal wanted you to loose. Maybe not because he could keep them from Durge in the reboot. But because he couldn't give them back because they were never from the Urge/Bhaalspawn side of Durge. Bhaal is just hate and destruction why would be able to know any legitimate loving part of Durge that wasn't based in malice. (Whatever his feeling for Durge I don't think it's real love, Durge is a vessel of his will, and Sceleritas Fel is a gaslighter or I think imprinting some his own feelings for his charge).

He wouldn't understand Durge's sadness in seeing what a truely loving father, Ketheric, would do for his child. He would only be able to give the sibling rivalry between Durge and Orin no softer moments between family that may have occurred. (You know the way you'd hang with your neice who is also your grand niece and might be the same age as you and somehow also your sister if Bhaal is the father of all Bhaalspawn, honestly blood kin in such a nice easy name for that family wreath of tree). And Gortash who was likely at the very least a true best friend (as historians might put it) doesn't have any hateful moments? Even running around doing probably very terrible things together besides the few BnEs and heists we know of, Durge liked Gortash back. But those feelings are from the regular part of Durge.

And that is why I think redemption or reject Bhaal is great. Bhaal sucks.

I don't think I said anything unique but it's 2am and I can't sleep...so this has happened...

#worst dad.award goes to Bhaal #enver gortash #durgetash #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #deadthree #don't makes posts so late at night that it turns into morning

[tremendouskoalachild]

in celebration of learning Lyn's name: _in, _inn, _yn and _ynn names in star wars! not including minor mmo characters, rpgs, and source books (there are so many tho)

bold for on-screen characters (not including niche background characters no one knows), small for legends-only characters

✔ Binn (Ibes), jedi apprentice; Bin (Essada), splinter of the mind's eye

✔ Cin (Drallig), prequels; Cyn (Jodu), 1977 comic; Cyn, darth vader black white and red; (Ardana) Cinn, 2013 comic

✔ Din (Djarin and Grogu), mandoverse; (Orgus) Din, swtor

✔ Finn, sequels; Fyn, tcw tie-in novel; Fynn (Torve), thrawn trilogy; Finn, star wars tales; Finn, legacy; Finn, 1977 comic; Finn (Galfridian), invasion; Finn (Vaal), lost tribe of the sith; Finn (Tegotash), tcw; Finn (Ertay), tcw

✔ Gin (Lesl), swtor webcomic; Gin (Scraf), planet of twilight

✔ Hin, splinter of the mind's eye

✔ Jyn (Erso), rogue one; Jyn (Obah), droids; Jinn (Reeso), tpm racer; (Qui-Gon) Jinn, prequels

✔ (Tulu and Drola) Kinn, fotj; Kinn (Zih), lego tfa; Kin (Kian), rotj; Kin (Robb), tcw

✔ Lyn, obi-wan kenobi and tales of the empire; Lyn (Me), rotj; Lin (Gaava), resistance; Lyn (Sekla), kotor; (Arden) Lyn, masters of teräs käsi; (Koley) Linn, thr

✔ Myn (Weaver), ahsoka; Minn (Ishkah), swtor; Minn, canto bight; Myn (Donos), x-wing novels; Myn (Kyneugh), rotj

✔ Nin, jedi apprentice

??? P

✔ Qin, the mandalorian; Qin (Yazal), tcw;

✔ Rin, swtor; Rinn, thr; Rinn, age of republic; (Chorto) Rinn, swtor

✔ (Zareb and Jariah) Syn, legacy; (Sorzus) Syn, ltots spiral; (Mirith and Jahren) Sinn, crimson empire; Sin(tas Vel), blood ties; (Cariaga) Sin, kotor; (Karr Nuq) Sin, force collector

??? T

✔ Vin, thr; Vin, republic commando; Vin (Nothos), rebellion comic; Vinn, tor novels; Vinn (Atrius), swtor; Vyn (Asara), swtor; Vyn (Holpur), fotj; Vyn (Narcassan), x-wing novels

✔ Wynn (Dorvan), fotj; Wyn(ssa Fel), njo; (Uthar) Wynn, kotor

✔ Xin (Baliss), swtor; (Torvin) Xyn, njo

??? Y

✔ Zinn (Paulness), tcw; Zinn (Toa), tcw; Zin (Graw), TIE fighter; (Axela) Zin, fotj; Zyn, swtor; Zyn (Javeb), prequels

#there don't seem to be any Pins or Tins or Yins that i can find or recall. surprising tbh #SO MANY Finn no-last-name characters #why am i including first and last names? because i have no idea what's going on with din djarin

[partially-controlled-chaos]

So I feel like this is probably very obvious but it took me two playing the game twice to make this connection.

But I’m fully under the impression that if you play as a Tav (and probably an origin character) that the dead Dragonborn Bhaalspawn corpse you find in Orin’s bedroom is Durge. You can’t use the speak to the dead spell on the corpse and there’s a few diaries in the room that show that Orin had a blood kin and they don’t get along in the slightest sense so it’s not like Durge didn’t exist in that scenario with a Tav.

That and combined with the fact you can steal Sceleritas Fel’s hat from the Devil’s Fee suggests that spiky little butler man is also dead.

Again, this was probably very obvious but I’ve never played a Durge character so I never gave the corpse that much attention.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #tav #dark urge #sceleritas fel #orin the red

[caedun]

"I've an interesting proposition for you, regarding your usual quarry." The warlock said as they approached. "Though I suppose it comes down to whether or not the Legions defeat is a good enough measure of success for your long hunt."

His head rotated with mechanical precision to perceive Nixalegos, and then his body followed suit, greeting the Warlock with a short dip of his chin.

Before he could reply his conversation partner, a woman whose unsuppressed magical aura easily betrayed her as a black dragon, wrinkled her nose at the Warlock's approach and turned on a heel to leave, quickly trotting off towards Valdrakken's bustling, open-air square. Caedun did not turn to follow her exeunt, only lightly gesturing at her departing form.

"That is Saevusia. She does not care for 'fel-sick things.' It seems you fit that category as well, by her estimation." Caedun's stony expression did not betray whether or not this bothered or amused him, but he quickly moved on to the following topic regardless.

"I would consider their defeat an inarguable triumph, but so long as their kin continue to persist and plot, there is work to be done. What do you propose, Nethermancer?" he inquired, his arms crossing over his chest and attention rapt.

#writing #caedun #nixalegos

[fanfiction-artist-prototype]

Because I believe that Sceleritas Fel hates the chosen for all in some way contributing to his sweet master being diposed (Kethric for always planning to allow Orin to take their place, Gortash for the events that lead to the Prayer for Forgiveness and Orin for being the defective Bhallspawn that dared to try and murder his sweet master) I believe that there is so much opportunity for fuckery in ACT 2 at Moonrise Towers.

Like, I'm still on my first durge playthrough and I'm doing a redemption playthrough so I'm not sure what happens if you kill Isobel, however I think it's not a jump to say Fel wants durge to kill Isobel partly to get back at Kethric.

And I just think Sceleritas Fel telling the Dark Urge "BTW sweet master, you know this guy! Pretty well in fact! He helped cover up your attempted murder and was complicit," because I think it'd add interesting angst and dialogue choices, "so anyway moving on, do you want to know some stuff about him that when you see him again is going to make him shit himself?"

With BG3 being a role player game I understand that stuff like the party planning what they'll do how they'll attack and will they pretend or so forth happens 'off screen' and is more implied than anything since you control the companions whilst in combat. But also given the dialogue choices give approval and disapproval points I'm just saying sometimes the durge/tav deviates from what they're SUPPOSED to be saying and I think that added onto my idea of Sceleritas Fel telling the Dark Urge about Thorm adds brilliant opportunity for something like this:

Party enters the tower -> Durge greets ppl like they're new but enters the kitchens for the Gnolls bc Fel mentioned them -> ppl/Gnolls in the kitchen think Durge is back. They do not correct this. The whole Party is confused. -> enters throne room. Goblin cutscene plays out.

"Why don't we let our new friend decide?" Says Kethric.

Only for the most devious, most 'oh there are far too many teeth in that maw, but more teeth makes it easier to kill doesn't it?' Smile to crack across their face and they look not dissimilar to the few times the party has seen the Dark Urge lose themselves in the throes of battle, when the amnesiac companion who (if we take this as a redemption durge) is repulsed by themselves after awakening, can't quite tell who or what they really are once they have blood beneath their nails. And the party go 'oh shit' bc has the center of the absolute taken hold of that urge? But wait... Kethric Thorm has lost his composure, if only for a second. That smile MEANS SOMETHING to the man.

And so the Dark Urge continues, "New friend? Old Bones changes his friends as often as his goddesses'."

(Gonna be honest, Old Bones as a nockname comes from no Saint without audience on AO3, by Ikarons who's portrayal of the Dark Urge kind of rewrite my brain abt pre tadpole Dark Urge and durge in general)

And it shakes Kethric. Because the Bhallspawn speaks like they KNOW him, but they shouldn't... and yet they were the first True Soul, the first independent and a master of the Elderbrain so perhaps even she has her favourites. The Bhallspawn seems to always be a favourite child. And if the Bhallspawn knows him, has collected true soul allies who knows what their plans on? Perhaps it would be best to let this play out; to not alert Gortash (who may foil the plan, who may make the Bhallspawn falter yet again) and Orin (who he would not be opposed to watching be ripped apart by her kin.) just yet.

Perhaps it would be fair to see what the favourite child of Bhall is like now that they seemingly have kept companions alive and loyal without them baring thr crazed marks of Bhalls butchers?

"Of course, how could I forget the butcher? Now, friend, your decision?"

(Meanwhile the party is in utter disarray bc wtf is happening. Which at the next long rest/trio back to camp could trigger a scene where you reveal the existence of Sceleritas Fel and that he has revealed some information about Kethric but only that which you knew BEFORE, refusing to allaborate on how you knew then.

#bg3 dark urge

[gale-heart]

The new stew recipe was decent. Could use more spice, leeks simmered a little too long and got mushy. Halibut came out perfect. Something with mushrooms next time?

Talking with Eoselle was illuminating, and made it apparent that I could benefit from learning a bit more history or anthropology. I don’t know when I started thinking of myself as kaldorei or the Shen’dralar as a kaldorei subgroup. Maybe it was that we came out of Feralas still resembling night elves? (Mostly—it’s not lost on me that my brothers and I still have shorter and thinner ears.) Now that I look back at my time growing up, I don’t remember having…well, any culture, really, we were largely left to our own devices in a dilapidated ruin. I had assumed our customs merely atrophied when my elders fell into stagnation. It never occurred to me that many Highborne simply wouldn’t have seen a reason to preserve a way of life they were forcibly removed from. (I still maintain the Shen’dralar’s lethargy and isolation both played a factor, though.) Threads of it might have survived in some form or another, most obviously in Suramar (which I STILL haven’t visited!), but others would be less recognizable in Silvermoon where the shift in practices and values were more drastic—gah, I’m getting stuck in the weeds. This is really something I should revisit after examining it more. Right now I’m afraid I’m more or less just aping off of Eoselle’s words, and clumsily at that.

Point being, she reminded me of something crucial: I am not a night elf, not truly. I did not grow up in night elf society or learn their ways as a child. My forebears were expelled from that world and everything they knew, told we were no longer kin and then left to make something new for ourselves over the course of millennia. That kind of impact simply cannot be undone. I can still be grateful that they allowed us to return to our homelands (I wouldn’t have the life I have now otherwise, and it’s nice that I won’t be killed if I travel in their lands), I can still choose to seek a connection with Elune on my own terms, and by no means do I have to give up entirely on having friendships with any kaldorei I do like. But I don’t have to try so hard to be something I’m not, either. I am Highborne, a part of the group that went on to become the high elves, blood elves, and Nightborne, the Moon Guard and naga. At this point, maybe the blessing of my being Highborne is that there IS no single culture or way of being that I fit neatly into anymore. We’ve survived by adapting, growing, and embracing change as it pulls us away from where we started. Maybe all I need to do is make sure I know myself and feel comfortable being that, wherever life or my magic take me in the future.

Framed like that, the prospect is as exciting as it is daunting.

Less on track with the main point of the conversation, this also started me thinking about evolution in a more literal sense. When you step back and look at it, elves really do seem the most susceptible to radical biological change depending on their environments. If I had stayed shut up in Eldre’thalas for another thousand years, would proximity to Immol’thar or lingering fel energy have eventually altered my form the way the Nightwell did for the Nightborne? For that matter, how do I know that feeding off of Immol’thar DIDN’T alter the Shen’dralar a little? Is it possible that prolonged exposure to and channeling of storms, interlaced with arcane magic, could turn me into something entirely new? Would I wake up one day having become a high elf if I spent a few hundred years near the Sunwell? I likely have at least another century before I have to worry about significant physiological change, but a part of me frets that I ought to make some record of what I look like now, so I can compare later. Or…actually, I don’t know how long it took the high elves or Nightborne to take on the forms they have now. And didn’t the void elves mutate immediately from their exposure? Oh, dear.

Again: research before jumping to conclusions about any of that. And I think I must allow myself to be a bit more nosy towards my other elven friends. If I’m really craving scraps of connection to my roots, then those roots are probably closer than I’d realized! Also I REALLY want to see Suramar. I want a living example of what our empire used to look like, AND I want to geek out over their magic. (Bonus, I won’t be forced into anything to do with an arcan’dor this time if I don’t want to be!) ACTUALLY WAIT don’t they have a special kind of druid dedicated to taking care of the arcan’dor?! It might be worth pestering their naturalists or whatever they’re called about how they mixed arcane magic and druid craft and didn’t destroy themselves in the process. Maybe I could finally learn how to control plants without them turning into crystal dust!

I really ought to talk about my problems more. Such lovely ideas came from this one!

——

(( @hinacraft ))

#character logs #journal #ic

[gurlbesimpin]

Blood and Gold

(Named Durge x gortash)

Chapter two: Must or mustn't

TW: mentions of animal abuse

Night has fallen over Baldur's Gate, After a day of aimlessly following bodies and murder cases in Baldur's Gate in hope of reaching Orin; Alaia, Astarion and Minthara reside within a room in the Elfsong tavern; cheap, cozy and affordable. Minthara sits beside Alaia, discussing the day's events whilst Astarion curiously studies Withers reading an old scroll of some sort; green glowing runes etched into the parchment. 

"You were friends with that ridiculous tyrant?" 

Minthara exclaims accusingly, her white eyebrows furrowed as she studies the pale half elf. Despite Alaia's hostility towards the topic, Minthara seems more impressed than angry, though her harsh tone can be misunderstood easily. Minthara's globed hands clap together as she adds: 

"The potential you hold is marvelous. With this alliance, we could achieve anything. You and I could eradicate the tyrant, and become more powerful than most could dream of! We could become the absolute."

The Drow's thoughts swarm with fantasies of power and domination, whilst Alaia's are more curious. She remembers little of her past; if Gortash was telling the truth, Orin was to blame for this. She had no idea where to begin, her father's whispers echo on her mind, meanwhile her newfound deity of choice also resides within her thoughts. If only her imo servant Sceleritas Fel knew of this, it would cause him to ridicule her even more. Ever since her memories were wiped by her blood-kin, her loyalty towards her father wavered, and a new figure emerged in her life.  And with enough dedication, and with Orin's Netherstone she could possibly- 

"What could you possibly be discussing without me?" 

Astarion chimes in, he always appreciates a chance to annoy the Drow, and now is another chance for him to do so. Minthara clenches her fists and swiftly gets on her feet, approaching the pale elf. Before she can cause a scene however, Astarion coughs sarcastically and motions to a child in the room, Yenna. Alaia had allowed her to stay, much to Minthara's dismay. Even if she wouldn't admit it, Alaia has s soft spot for children, not wanting harm to befall them; a complete contrast to her past as a devout and loyal child of Bhaal. 

Minthara rolls her eyes as the vampire spawn before glaring at the young girl who currently is sizing her up. 

"Hey purple lady?" 

She asks quietly, stepping closer to Minthara and Astarion. Both wouldn't be suitable parents but Alaia keeps them from doing any harm to the poor girl. She doesn't know why she feels such a connection to the child, it's as if she can see herself in the girl somehow. But with her past a mystery, she can't quite pinpoint why. 

"Oh, the child speaks..." 

Minthara regards vexingly, her posture and facial expression clearly depicting her lack of caring or understanding for the girl. Alaia also stands, stepping beside Minthara to glance down at the redhead girl, half a smile plastered on her black lipstick tinted lips. All three elves stare at the child, but Alaia's gaze falters for a moment as she scans the surroundings for the child's cat. 

"Where's your cat, little one?" 

She asks quietly, trying to sound sweet and soothing but the lack of sleep and hydration has taken a toll on her voice. The girl shifts around nervously, her eyes darting between Astarion, Minthara and Alaia. Her hands fiddle with her hair as she chuckles playfully, answering the question with a sinister undertone: 

"He's safe I promise..." 

"Well I don't see why we should worry about a cat, we have much greater problems to attend to" 

Astarion replies nonchalantly, stepping back with a shrug. Minthara's eyes narrow as she senses a hint of danger from this child, something Alaia also feels. Despite the unnerving gut feeling, she further inquires on the cat's whereabouts. 

"Safe? Do tell, where is he? I can't hear him meowing anywhere..."

The Drow paladin scoffs at Alaia's attempt to communicate with the girl, seeing it as trivial and unnecessary for their adventure. Yenna tilts her head slightly and chuckles again, her eyes wider than before. Immediately Alaia senses what's occuring, she has been tricked again. 

"His meows are so sweet aren't they? Especially when they're screaming and crying whilst being torn from limb to limb!" 

Yenna exclaims with a maniacal cackle before her head slumps to the side and with a gust of dust, Alaia's blood-kin stands before her. The Changeling's lips form a smirk as her hands pat against the red armour adorning her body. 

"The more I see you, the more insufferable you get..." 

Alaia grumbles, carefully moving her hand to the dagger on her hip whilst Minthara already has her sword pointed in Orin's direction. Orin is quick to notice, hastily arming herself with her Netherstone adorned dagger. Her long braided blond hair sways back and forth with her head movements whilst she barely contains her psychotic laughter. 

"Oh father wouldn't approve of your words, filth. We must slice and cut and stab our way through Baldur's <Grave>! Or do you plan on abandoning us again?"

"That was your doing, Orin. My disappearance wasn't voluntary" 

"Oh don't say such things, you'll hurt my feelings"

She retorts sarcastically with her wode smirk. Her eyes are pale and bloodshot, analysing any move or gesture Alaia makes. 

"Feelings? Are you sure you're capable of such?" 

Astarion inquires playfully, earning a low growl from Minthara. Aggravating the chosen of Bhaal isn't s good idea. 

"Shut your mouth vampire spawn! Or I'll hang you from the hooks!" 

She screeches at him, making Alaia flinch as the sudden increase in volume. Quickly Alaia tires to resume control over the situation, taking a step closer to her sister.

"What do you want, Orin?"

"What do I want? You should know by now, kin. We must lead Baldur's Gate to its grave! But first, you must kill the lordling. Then bring me his stone and we'll fight to see whom is worthy of our father's blessing!" 

Orin exclaims, her hyper energetic yet psychotic attitude sending shivers down the three elves spines. Alaia composes herself, tilting her head and she sneers. 

"Lordling? You mean gortash?" 

The Changeling rolls her eyes with an exaggerated huff. 

"Yes! The tyrant you fool! I cannot touch him! When we first conspired, he got me to wag my tongue, swear an oath that I'd never hang him from the hooks! Oh how I crave to slit that proxy smile from his face! You must do it for me. Kill the tyrant and bring me his stone." 

Alaia's eyes narrow, whilst Minthara's patience with the Changeling is wearing thin. All the voices within Alaia's mind, so many conflicting desires, that she can't even find her own. 

"Must I?" 

She replies simply, causing Orin to flash s dangerous smile. 

"If you wish to keep your life-"

She steps back, making a quick gesture to shift into a random traveler as to not aroused suspicion. Her steps are careful yet quick as she nears the door to exit. Minthara is insistent on following her, but is quickly persuaded by Alaia to stay. It would be a death sentence to face Orin right now. 

"Until then, kin." 

She says playfully before swinging open the door and leaving just as fast as she came. Astarion blinks half confusedly, Minthara still fuming whilst Alaia's mind tries to catch up with the events that just unfolded. She's now faced with two sides. 

Kill Gortash and deliver the stone to her blood-kin, or kill Orin and deliver her stone to Gortash. All of the different demands from different figures are sending her already fragile mind spiraling. How desperately she wants a moment of peace, how desperately she wishes to remember... 

"That witch..."

Minthara chides angrily, tossing her sword over at her bed as she huffs, her armour clinking with each movement she makes. Alaia releases an exasperated sigh as she steps towards the door, but is interrupted by Astarion.

"I do hope you're not going after her without me. I'd love to witness what events wo-"

"I'm not. I just... Need a moment." 

Alaia snaps back, causing Astarion to raise a curious eyebrow whilst he watches Alaia step out through the door. 

#smut #bg3 gortash #bg3 tav #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 spoilers #gortash x durge #bg3 durge #durge #durgetash #alaia mar Garnan #lord enver gortash #lord gortash #enver gortash #gortash #cw: gore #cw blood

[mamadarama]

siam / medjed ☼ 21 ☼ they/it fe/fel

☼ like when read please ;3

☼ character asks: OPEN :)

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

☼ important stuff ↴

main is @m3djed

art sometimes

memes often

16+ to follow i make nsfw jokes

no proship/terfs/nazis

spam is fine :)

i read all my tags (so dont be weird)

dont involve me in drama/arguments

mostly run on a queue

please dont tag my posts as kin/me/id

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

☼ tag guide ↴

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all characters names are tagged , mute as you see fit

#txt - misc ramblings

#my art - art that is mine

#art - art that is not mine

#mp4 - videos

#catstars - characters but i made them cats

#character asks - ask blog-esque stuff

#handcrafted funnies - original memes n other stupid stuff

#enstars textpost - my massive textpost series ( also in the tag above this with all my other memes )

#chatting - rbs responding to people

#whiteboard - hcs and other stuff

#ask / #[username] / #anon

#poll

#blanks - blank versions of the textposts

#pinned

[444namesplus]

abl aci acr age aid aki ala all als alt ami ana ann ant ape arc are arm ato aun aur aut avi awa axi bab bac bai bak bal ban bar bas bat bea bec bee bel ben bes bet bia bik bil bin bir bit ble blo blu boa bod boi bol bom bon boo bor bos bot bou bow bra bre bro buc bul bum bur bus but buz caf cag cak cal cam can cap car cas cav cel cen cha che chi cho cit cla cli clu coa coc cod coi cok col com con coo cop cor cos cou cov cra cre cro cub cul cur cut dal dam dar das dat daw day dea deb dec dee del dem den des dia dic die dir dis div doc doe dol dom don doo dos dov dow dra dre dro dru dua duc duf duk dul dum dus dut eac ear eas eat ech edg edi els env epi eur eve evi exa exi exp eye fac fad fai fak fal fam far fas fat fea fee fel fil fin fir fis fiv fla fle fli flo flu foa foi fol fon foo for fou fre fro fuc fue ful fun fur fus gai gal gam gan gat gav gaz gea gen gif gil gir giv gla gle glo glu goa goe gol gon goo gor gow gra gre gri gro gul gur hai hal han har hat hau hav haw hea hee hei hel her hid hig hik hil hin hir hol hom hoo hop hor hos hou hug hul hun hur hyp ico ide idl ido inc inf int iri iro isl ite jac jai jak jan jav jaz jea jee jil joe joh joi jok jos jum jun jur jus kee kem ken kep kha kic kil kin kir kis kit kne kni kno koh kyl lac lad lai lak lam lan las lat lav law laz lea lef len les lev lie lif lik lil lim lin lio lis liv loa loc lof log lon loo lor los lou lov luc lum lun lur lus mad mai mak mal mam man mar mas mat may maz mea mee meg mel mem men mer mes mic mik mil min mis moc mod mol mon moo mor mos mov muc mus myt nai nam nav nea nec nee nes new nex nic nin nod non noo nor nos not nov nud nut oat obe odd odo oka onc onl ont ope ora ott our ova ove pac pag pai pal pap par pas pat pea pec pee pes pic pie pik pil pin pip pit pla ple plo plu poe pol pon poo pop por pos pou pra pre pro pul pum pun pur pus qui rac rag rai ram ran rap rar ras rat rav rea ree rel ren res ric rid rin rio rip ris rit roa roc rod rol roo rop ros rub rud rui rul rus rut sac saf sag sai sak sal sam san sav sca sco sea see sel sem sen sep sex sha she shi sho shu sic sid sig sil sin sit siz ski sla sli slo sna sno soa sod sof soi sol som son soo sor sou spa spi spo spu sta ste sti sto suc sui sun sur swa swi tac tai tak tal tan tap tas tax tea tec tee tel ten ter tes tex tha the thi tho thu tic tid tie til tim tin tir tob tol tom ton too top tor tos tou tow tra tre tri tro tru tub tuc tun tur twi typ ugl uni upo urg use vai var vas vei ver ves vet vic vie vin vis voi vot wad wag wai wak wal wan war was wat wav way wea wee wel wen wer wes wha whe whi who wid wif wil win wip wir wis wit wok wol woo wor wra yan yar yea you yua zer zin zon zoo

[filthycasualfanfic]

Long ago when the lands of Eltheroth were once one, a great tree existed. The tree reached higher than the Vessarand Mountains and within it Goddess Flor’illia awakened every morning to provide for those that sought her blessings. She helped those in need for thousands of years until one day her kindness became her downfall.

She extended her blessing to a dark elf mage named Zhaell Illeran. The elf had been cast from his homeland which lies miles deep in the caverns of the mountain ranges. His kind are a violent and unpredictable race of dark elves who relentlessly wage war on the surface races. Their only weakness is the light of day that dampens their powers and scorches their bodies. Flor’illia held no contempt and blessed the elf with the ability to walk under the brilliance of the sun.

The elf came to covet the goddess and her powers. He begged for her favor and heart, thinking only of possessing her for himself. Flor’illia, unable to facilitate his desires, did not grant this wish. He came every morning for tens of seasons, to Heartwood where her lifeblood ran deep. He lavished her with gifts and begged at the base of her tree. At a loss of how to help Zhaell, she eventually stopped appearing to the elf when he called to her. He watched enviously as she bestowed her kindness to the surface races that made a pilgrimage to her woods. Wrought with jealousy, he plotted against her.

His kind are naturally gifted with certain magical abilities, but required the dark for their powers to be potent. By the new moon, when the night reigned supreme, he invoked The God of War, Kelzera Fel. His race worshiped the bloodthirsty god and held him above all else. Zhaell vowed to end Flor’illia in his honor. The war god granted the dark elf a powerful spell to split the great tree and steal for him the prize of her golden heart. He promised Zhaell that he would be welcomed back to his homeland as a hero.

Zhaell used the war god’s blessing to split her wood. He trekked deep into the magical tree and found her heart. The tree goddess watched as he ripped her essence from her mortal form, but before fading from existence she bestowed her final gift. The gift of empathy.

The dark elf was suddenly stricken by the weight of what he had done. Remorse, despair, and guilt were all foreign emotions to his kind. The feelings were terrible beyond anything he has ever experienced in all his elvish life; it defied his understanding. He wailed in agony for Flor’illia and for his treachery while the great tree died all around him. Upon sunrise he clawed his way out of the dead wood to an army of high elves waiting for him. He fell to his knees and presented them her lifeless heart and his own life to do with as they wished. The high elf king, Lefeniel Gillerand, spared the dark elf and sentenced him as Heartwood’s protector for all his remaining days. Thus began the legend of Zhaell Illeran, Mage of Heartwood.

And as for Flor’illia’s heart, it was entrusted to the king which he laid to rest in his ancestral home. To this day her resting place remains under the protection of his kin.

#filthycasualart #just filthycasual stuff #my art #my OC #my story #fan art #art #illustration #painting #digital art #digital sketch #digital painting #digital fanart #digital drawing #dark elf #dark elves #elf #fantasy #lore #fantasy art

[true-champions]

I suppose introductions are in order, hm?

Greetings, reader. My name is Aitragos, and I am the keeper of this collection of materials. I'm not sure what brings you here but if you wish to peruse my writings about this particularly interesting band of souls, I can help direct you betwixt them and give you a brief overview of each of their stories.

Book 1: The Kingslayers This is the story of two Gilneans whose fates became intertwined on the day they both contracted the Worgen curse and were ousted from their home, forever changed. Gaeralf Bevelle was a decorated soldier of the Gilneas Brigade. Khrystia was a surnameless gutterbound criminal, the very kind he was bred to despise. They have formed an unlikely friendship through their combined suffering, but the continual trials of war have strained their relationship to levels that are proving difficult to maintain alongside their responsibilities as champions of the Alliance.

Book 2: Evergreen This is the story of a young Kaldorei girl struggling to find her purpose in life after being separated from her father in a deadly Northrend storm. Veyelline was born of both the soil and the stars, to a simple hard-working father named Thelaros Lunaveil, and a mother who she has never known but has started to be visited by in her dreams. While wandering Azeroth alone and confused, Veyelline comes into contact with a curious Ren'dorei mage named Agholor Starbreaker, a tailor by trade with a thirst for as much magical knowledge as possible. Their chance encounter may be just what each of them needs - to help Veyelline find her purpose, and for Agholor to learn as much as he can about the Kaldorei and their druidic magics.

Book 3: Justice & Irony This is the story of two Shal'dorei trapped inside Suramar City during the Legion occupation on opposite ends. Auroris Korgryn was the daughter of two highly ranked nobles in Elisande's court, cruelly groomed by her parents her entire life to meet their standards of perfection. Auroris wanted nothing more than to not only break free of her pristine chains, but to aid her suffering kin in the city slums who were starving to death, becoming withered under the Legion's harsh reign. She meets a withered man named Luccian whose defiance is slowly inspiring a secret rebellion, and decides to sponsor him with mana stolen from her parents' estate. He rewards her by training her in the art of assassination. But it is yet to be seen whether Luccian's intentions are truly rooted in good or evil.

Book 4: Voice of the Demon This is the story of two desperately lonely souls who have left behind their pasts, but are filled with deep regret. Edoran Darrowthorne is an Illidari - a night elf fused with a demon to gain powers of the Fel. He took on this burden after he was overcome with rage over the slaughtering of his family by the Legion, but now that the war is over, he is realizing that this transformation was a terrible mistake. He longs for the days where he served as a sentinel of the Kaldorei, steeped in nature and its beauty. While wandering aimlessly through the forests of Aszuna, he meets a small elf the likes of which he's never sensed the aura of - a Ren'dorei who has taken the name Xeria Evenglow. She is training to be a hunter alongside learning to control her newly gained void powers, but it is proving to be a struggle beyond anything she could have imagined. Edoran becomes a fel green light in Xeria's deep violet darkness, and she becomes the brightest aura he can 'see' with his spectral sight. They become dependent on one another to ground themselves in their trauma, but are both too afraid to admit how much they care for each other out of fear that they will be rejected.

Book 5: Indigo This is the story of an excommunicated Shal'dorei noble known as Algernon Alta. Once the right-hand advisor to Elisande, Algernon completely abandoned his post and his people when the Legion was invited into the city walls. Alongside his blue drake companion, myself, he has ambitions to remotely use the Nightwell to create a new Well of Eternity, defeating the Legion and providing a source of magical power for the elves akin to the days of yore. However, Algernon becomes distracted when a thin and withered Shal'dorei woman with pitch black hair and deep indigo skin wanders into his abode near death. He's never cared for a lowly soul before - why would he start now? But he can't just let her die.

There are more, but these are the ones I've got the most complete for the time being. If you want to learn more about each of the characters featured in these tales, you may browse their profiles here. They are currently in a slow process of being moved to here.

Thank you, dear reader, and please do feel free to reach out to me with any questions you may have.

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(OOC: Disclaimer that a lot of Warcraft lore is something my RP parnter and I straight up ignore, and we do a LOT of head-canoning. If something doesn't make sense it's probably because we changed it on purpose!)

#welcome #truechampions #roleplay #warcraft

[drakulya3]

Sorry to say something potentially not like Optically Good for the ~community~ but I'm watching iNabb*r's video on the Fel*x Hitl*r guy and like... I acknowledge nab doesn't have the background information on otherkin stuff like I do so of course our interpretations will be different, but a lot of the video seems to be bad faith and essentializing. It's kind of driving me ngl lol like if we assume the guy is genuine in what he's saying he's experienced and in what he believes, which all we've seen so far points to being the case, .....? Do his beliefs and actions really seem that like crazy or unhinged? Maybe it's hard for non-otherkin people to understand what it feels like. How he has expressed this aspect of his identity has been harmful and tactless, absolutely. But everyone expresses themselves in harmful and tactless ways at some point in their lives, absolutely. Let thee without cringe cast the first stone, right? Though, being a Hitl*r kin would be a minefield for anyone to try and navigate. Still, I posit that the residual anti-kin stuff from the 2010s is making his situation worse lol Because if the whole belief hadn't become so stigmatized and instead more accepted, then the conversation wouldn't be 'this guy is fucked in the head he believes he's reincarnated Hitl*r' but more like 'dude do not be posting pictures of you dressed like that that is not okay.'

#anyways if the topic of you know what makes you emotional please do not engage #otherkin

[miaulogy]

☆ cat-themed neopronouns :

requested by ☁️ anon!

total pronouns listed: 162

general:

cat/cats/catself

kat/kats/katself

the cat/the cat's/itself

it/its/itself

kit/kits/kitself

kit/kitty/kittyself

kit/kitten/kittenself

kitty/kittys/kittyself

kitten/kittens/kittenself

paw/paws/pawself

claw/claws/clawself

toe/bean/toebeanself

bean/beans/beanself

whisk/whisker/whiskerself

whisker/whiskers/whiskerself

ke/ker/kerself

tail/tails/tailself

fur/furs/furself

purr/purrs/purrself

prr/prrs/prrself

mrrp/mrrps/mrrpself

mrr/mrrs/mrrself

hiss/hiss/hisself

meow/meows/meowself

mew/mews/mewself

miau/miaus/miauself

mau/maus/mauself

nya/nyan/nyanself

play/plays/playself

wool/wools/woolself

sleep/sleeps/sleepself

zzz/zzzs/zzzself

nap/naps/napself

blanket/blankets/blanketself

pet/pets/petself

pat/pats/patself

soft/softs/softself

fluff/fluffs/fluffself

fuzz/fuzz/fuzzelf

mou/mous/mouself

mou/mouse/mouself

rat/rats/ratself

hunt/hunts/huntself

scratch/scratchs/scratchself

fang/fangs/fangself

teeth/teeth/teethself

bite/bites/biteself

feli/felis/feliself

feline/felines/felineself

fel/fels/felself

lin/lins/linself

li/lin/linself

feral/ferals/feralself

:3/:3s/:3self

>:3/>:3/>:3self

:'3/:'3s/:'3self

=^._.^=/=^._.^=s/=^._.^=self

cat breeds:

per/pers/perself

sia/sian/sianself

pers/persian/persianself

maine/maines/maineself

coon/coons/coonself

maine/coon/mainecoonself

bri/bris/briself

ame/amer/amerself

exo/exos/exoself

eur/eurs/eurself

short/hair/shorthairself

bengal/bengals/bengalself

gal/gals/galself

sia/siam/siamself

me/mes/meself

siam/siamese/siameself

sphynx/sphynxs/sphynxself

phy/phyn/phynself

ragdoll/ragdolls/ragdollself

rag/doll/ragdollself

doll/dolls/dollself

munch/munchs/munchself

ki/kin/kinself

munch/kin/munchkinself

munchkin/munchkins/munchkinself

scott/scotts/scottsef

co/cott/cottself

co/cos/coself

fold/folds/foldself

nor/nors/norself

norw/norws/norwself

for/forest/forestself

forest/forests/forestself

siber/sibers/siberself

sib/sibs/sibself

ber/bers/berself

ia/ian/ianself

sav/savs/savself

sav/savannah/savannahself

savannah/savannahs/savannahself

tu/tur/turself

ang/angs/angself

gor/gors/gorself

hima/himas/himaself

laya/layan/layanself

ru/rus/ruself

blue/blues/blueself

bir/birs/birself

birm/birman/birmanself

abyss/abyss/abysself

char/chars/charself

treux/treuxs/treuxself

bom/boms/bomself

bay/bays/bayself

burm/burmese/burmeself

som/soms/somself

mali/malis/maliself

muff/muffs/muffself

muffin/muffins/muffinself

curl/curls/curlself

donk/donks/donkself

don/dons/donself

koy/koys/koyself

low/lows/lowself

ow/ows/owself

va/van/vanself

van/vans/vanself

toy/toys/toyself

ge/ger/gerself

ger/gers/gerself

manx/manxs/manxself

hav/havana/havanaself

van/vana/vanaself

brown/browns/brownself

rex/rexs/rexself

cy/cym/cymself

pe/per/perself

laper/laperm/lapermself

korat/korats/koratself

tok/tokin/tokinself

bob/bobs/bobself

burm/burmill/burmillself

lykoi/lykois/lykoiself

neb/nebs/nebself

emojiself:

😺/😺s/😺self

😸/😸s/😸self

😹/😹s/😹self

😻/😻s/😻self

😼/😼s/😼self

😽/😽s/😽self

🙀/🙀s/🙀self

😿/😿s/😿self

😾/😾s/😾self

🐱/🐱s/🐱self

🐈/🐈s/🐈self

🦷/🦷s/🦷self

🐭/🐭s/🐭self

🐁/🐁s/🐁self

🐾/🐾s/🐾self

🧵/🧵s/🧵self

🧶/🧶s/🧶self

🧺/🧺s/🧺self

🌚/🌚s/🌚self

🌜/🌜s/🌜self

💤/💤s/💤self

[DNI: Fatphobes, queerphobes, racists, ableists, anti-mogai, anti-endo, transmeds/truscums, terfs/swerfs/tehms, invalidate any mspec identity (including mspec lesbians/gays/straights), antisemites, proshippers/anti-antis.]

#neopronouns #xenopronouns #nounself #emojiself #neopronoun suggestions #pronoun suggestions #cat #kitty #mogai