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#muse is sorry
ficwip · 1 year
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reblog and in the tags, describe your current favorite character* WITHOUT mentioning any specific character or place names
*if you have lots, please pick one
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tofixtheshadows · 1 month
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So I've been thinking lately about how Mithrun is Kabru's dark mirror (more on that another time- it needs its own post), and I thought it interesting that one of their parallels is that they were both cared for by Milsiril, but in opposite directions. She took Kabru in as her foster after he was orphaned and tried to convince him not to become an adventurer. On the flip side, she helped rehabilitate Mithrun specifically so that he could rejoin the Canaries.
And I kept wondering: why?
For Kabru, obviously she loves him a whole lot- despite any other shortcomings in their relationship, I do believe that.
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So I get why she tries to convince him not to go dungeoning, and, failing that, at least prepares him as thoroughly as she can.
But why help Mithrun? She used to hate Mithrun, but after realizing what a secretly twisted person he was, she actually thought of him more positively (oh, Milsiril). So it wasn't as if she held the kind of grudge that might motivate her to make his already-depleted life even more miserable by sending him back to the dungeons. And it wasn't that she felt bad for him either, since she didn't visit Mithrun for the first ~20 years of his recovery.
The Adventurer's Bible says that Utaya was the impetus for Mithrun returning to the Canaries, but Milsiril is the one who made the trip to see him and tell him about it.
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Why would Milsiril work so hard to get her old coworker back into fighting fit? Why encourage him to return to such a dangerous lifestyle, when she was the one who chose not to mercy-kill him?
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That last panel is such a crazy thing to hint at and then never elaborate on. Without it we could have just thought that Milsiril wanted the Canaries' work to continue without her, even if it seemed out of character. I think some people even assume she's just a natural caretaker as a foster mom and handwave it to include nursing Mithrun too. What could Milsiril's suspicious motives be? What does she gain from Mithrun joining the Canaries that isn't an altruistic desire to see dungeons safely sealed? Feeling a sense of responsibility for the work she left behind isn't an ulterior motive.
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My theory is: Milsiril, knowing that Mithrun was empty save for the burning desire to face the demon again, wound him up like a clockwork doll and pointed him back at the dungeons.
Hoping that he'd eliminate the biggest threat to Kabru's life, before it was too late for him.
Milsiril the puppetmaster.
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tinystepsforward · 2 months
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i see matt posted again
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jstor · 1 month
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I realize I have not provided an update on my BG3 adventures and a few of you seemed invested, so...
I now have around 420 hours in the game (a little over 10 work weeks full of gameplay), I have two concurrent playthroughs in progress and 6 or 7 finished, I have many mods installed, my Tavs are beautiful, I'm playing on tactician, and I keep romancing Gale and Astarion to experience various permutations of the relationship. I have also considered making a side blog for this specific interest because I have nowhere to contain my feelings about it 😭
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fic-over-cannon · 6 months
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Give me a Jason Todd that never fully left the grave. Where he used to run hot, he now runs cold. Not just in a “my body temperature is perpetually a few degrees colder than human” way, but in a “I never fully feel warm” kind of way. The leather jacket isn’t just a fashion statement, it’s to keep the chill out of his bones on Gotham rooftops (it doesn’t work but it’s better than nothing). The gloves aren’t just a forensic countermeasure. They’re there to keep his fingers from going stiff from cold even on warm summer nights. Under his steel toed boots, his socks are made of thick wool so his toes stay warm enough to keep sensation in them.
Give me a Jason Todd that sometimes feels the phantom sensation of wet dirt on his skin. No matter how hard he scrubs the feeling won’t go away. Who can’t wear specific fabrics because they remind him of the silk lining of his coffin. Who sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night and has to turn a light on, the darkness a touch too close to the blackness of the coffin. Who has to sleep with some kind of blade, not because of his training, but because it could be used to lever open a coffin lid.
Give me a Jason Todd that can’t remember what it was like to be buried alive but knows exactly what it feels like. He’s left the grave but it’s never left him.
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comatosebunny09 · 7 months
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Figure drawing is surprisingly lively today.
A question hangs in the air. Something about relationships sitting on your classmates’ tongues. You’re in and out of the conversation. Tucked between your peers’ laughter and the gentle croon of new age music spilling from the speaker.
Your fingers are smudged from the soft pastels you chose as your medium today. Stained red like the irises boring holes into your head, stripping you down to the marrow.
You’re warm when you feel them on you again. Warm like the ivory glow of sunbeams pouring into the classroom. You can’t focus. Can’t get your vision transferred onto paper. Too hard to concentrate. Your skin prickles with heat. You can’t help glancing up at him to lay your curiosities to rest.
He doesn’t look away. Shameless as he watches you, seated pretty on a stool in the center of the classroom. Porcelain-skinned and lithe. Knees tucked beneath his chin, arms slack, encircling his legs to keep them together and up on the stool—a little modesty for today’s pose.
His expression is unreadable. Maybe a bit contemplative. And you don’t miss the slight cant of his lips and the crinkle of his eyes when he catches you staring just as long. He waggles his silver, groomed brows. Like what you see, they query. The heat blooms tenfold through your chest as your eyes return to your sketchbook. Like a grade-schooler caught eying their crush.
Your throat thickens. You wipe your hands on your jeans, hoping to dispel your nerves. Hoping to distract yourself from the ethereal beauty watching you like a best-kept secret. Like you are the sun he’s never basked in, and he wishes to savor every moment beneath it.
Truthfully, Astarion makes you nervous. Makes your heart pump over time, and your tongue feel all doughy in your mouth. Causes the hairs littered across your body to stand ramrod stiff, and you breathe a little shallower when he guides you into idle conversation. He’ll throw in a quip or two to break up the monotony of the classroom, but his focus always drifts back to you.
You’re not sure why he’s always had this penchant for you. Why he sets your nerves afire like solar flares exploding beneath your skin. You can never deny you enjoy the attention. While everyone else vies for his recognition, you capture his intrigue so effortlessly, garnering the envy of your peers.
Maybe somewhere in a past life, you meant something to him. Maybe he exalted you. Offered you the sweetest supplications. Held you dear in the circle of his arms with his lips pressed cold yet reassuring against your forehead.
You shake your head, banishing the cacophony your thoughts. Silly you. Past lives and all that. When the hell did you become such a romantic?
You take up your pastel stick anew. Figure you’ll get the line work down before class ends. However, it’s proving rather tricky with the subject of your piece staring you down like that.
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cornetespoir · 2 months
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I am once again sketching him
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ghost-bxrd · 5 days
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Just saw artwork of Jason doing the heads in a duffle bag thing and—-
I’m sorry but there’s just something so visceral and horrifying about a teenager sawing heads off people in a display for power.
Were they bad people? Yes. Did they deserve it? Probably. Did it send a message? Absolutely. Is it still horrifying? Heck yeah.
Just—- knowing Jason and his background, it’s just so heartrendingly tragic. I don’t even think he liked doing it, I’m just imagining him having to throw up afterwards before putting his helmet back on and playing tough crime lord again. The amount of self loathing he must feel whenever he thinks too hard about his actions. Falling asleep and seeing that—
Just— emotional repercussions, man. They’re real…
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ride-a-dromedary · 7 months
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I think it's very based of Halsin to walk into Baldur's Gate, criticize the entire structure of civilization and its treatment of the less fortunate and the vulnerable, get *this* close to sending a racist back to the Oak Father, defend rats as a species, have a midlife crisis, and then decide he wants a baby.
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mochixkisses · 2 months
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i need you carnally, oh my fucking god. i need you in my skin, in my fucking ribcage. i need you to take a knife to me and cut me all open. hit me. scream at me. i don't fucking care. you can do whatever you want to me as long as i can call you mine. i need you i need you i need you.
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caelanglang · 2 years
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📸…
Lippmann’s last photo, he really thinks Chuuya’s got potential to join him on his ‘main job’.
Edit: (close up shot bc i just realized tumblr ate the quality)
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pov: the undefeated prince is judging ur billiard playing skills hhh
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megaloserrr · 3 months
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silly lust doodle i forgot to post when i made it
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tinystepsforward · 2 months
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it's notable that while terfs have certainly discovered me at this point, they're generally not attacking me personally bc i'm not a trans woman
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"It's an honor for you to come for my flame, summoner! Now... try not to die!"
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The left one is original and it hurt my eyes! I thought I was cleaver to make Taka pinkish red like the whole Grimm troupe palette haha! ... sigh
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ne0nwithazero · 2 months
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His muse
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bratfiction · 2 months
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streamer!simon who is completely anonymous and wears his stupid balaclava on stream and in his videos… who has an insanely popular sever and millions of girls throwing themselves at him, but he still gets himself off to the thought of you. his twitter crush who he’s been in a VC with once or twice. imagines how cute you’d be with his fat cock down your throat while he streams or tries to edit </3
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