#signed: caz⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

athena-swords · 10 months

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☘️🕊️☘️🕊️ ASTROLOGY OBSERVATION ☘️🕊️☘️🕊️

Disclaimer: these all are statements don't take them as universal facts ok

Now let's begin

People with Mars in 8th house love all things related to occult and in general love to learn about it and do NOT fear even the paranormal stuffs.

The Earth rising/placements and specifically Virgo sign kinda just love cleaness even if their surroundings are a bit messy but has no dust or dirt in it they will be ok I hope you got the point fam

Even if you gave just a placement in Gemini in any chart you will love to have a journal with you even if you don't actually use it much

Virgo placement in general have great handwriting which is generally considered very beautiful and they will keep their handwriting very neat.

If you have fire mercury and earth placement you my love gonna regret after oversharing your thoughts (special mention to my Capricorns)but don't worry not everyone is using the info

North node in 10th house is gonna give you such a passionate mind that you won't be even able to decide what the fu*k you wanna do until the last moment

If you are attracted to men then your Jupiter placement will give you much insight about your partner then your Venus and Juno ones

The year you will have Leo rising in your solar return chart that year you will gain lot's of confidence and just unexpected rewards of your hard work

If you wanna have a whole new glow up find the day of your ruling planet either through your name or dob and do a small ritual of that planet on that day works very well

Neptune dom/1st house people love to wear rose coloured glasses when it comes to accepting that their loved ones can be shitty person may take them lots of betrayal to let go of stuffs and person

Happy Savan everyone hope so you all are enjoying the rain 🌧️🌧️ caz I love it.Har Har Mahadev

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tenebris-lux · 21 days

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I hate it when people are like, “Astarion’s scared of this guy? THIS GUY?? [gesturing to Cazador] He’s so lame and unimpressive! What a little bitch!” I hate that. Cazador is unimpressive to us, because we just met him and he has no power over us. He’s had Astarion under his heel for TWO HUNDRED YEARS, and the best days with him that Astarion could hope for was to not be noticed. It’s not Cazador’s mannerisms, appearance or demeanor that inspired those feelings in Astarion—it’s everything that was done to him. We, the players, the Tavs, don’t have any of that, just second-hand knowledge. That and the fact that we learn so much about Cazador (before finally meeting the guy) builds him up in our minds as this nightmarish force that could rival, if not outdo, the denizens of the hells. So then, in actually meeting Caz, it’s quite the comedown. AND I LOVE THAT. That contrast. I met him and was completely unimpressed with his demeanor, but that didn’t matter because I had no actual history with him. (He’s no walk in the park to fight either.)

“Astarion’s such a little baby about this.” Spoken like someone who can’t comprehend being starved, flayed, prostituted, tortured, verbally abused by someone who “rescued” you from dying … all with the fear that you have nowhere else to go, and if you try (which is futile), it’ll only get worse. Like, put yourself in that spot. Really think about it.

Also, a person being scared of someone isn’t a sign of general weakness. There’s no one in the world that’s universally scary; it always comes down to each person’s perception in the end. It doesn’t make someone a weak person for them to be scared of someone that you hold contempt for.

#the person with that attitude clearly didn’t like Astarion AT ALL #and that’s understandable because Astarion’s antagonistic #but COME ON.#THINK.#astarion #cazador szarr #baldur’s gate 3 #tw: sa mention #tw: abuse

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scottworldwide · 26 days

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Caz Diaz

#art nude #scottworldwide #photograhers on tumblr

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beatrice-otter · 5 months

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Planning a Peaceful Campaign

And here is the other yuletide fic I wrote! This one was for Quasar, a pinch-hitter who was not signed up and so wouldn't receive anything without treats. They were the only one of the pinch hitters I could write for. This was my only treat this year; other writing projects got in the way. (Including my late pinch hit for sedoretuex which was fun but did take a lot of time). I knew I wasn't going to have much time for treating given how much stuff I signed up for this year.

This was quick to write but I enjoyed it; and it's always fun to use bits of history trivia I already know. In this case, "spending a lot of time at a particular noble's house to force them to entertain the entire Royal Court (and thus spend a shitton of money) so they won't have the funds to cause future trouble, but also can't complain about their impoverishment" was a common tactic of late medieval/early modern royalty in England. And also, in the medieval period, if someone is abruptly a major player in politics and neither they nor their parents had that kind of power/position/money before, and it's not a case of "the monarch just happened to love this person," and you wonder how come they're such an important/rich person all of a sudden? The answer is usually "tax fraud," which was a booming industry in late medieval England at all social levels.

Title: Planning a Peaceful Campaign Author: Beatrice_Otter Fandom: Curse of Chalion Length: 1424 words Rating: Gen Written for: quasar in yuletide 2023

At AO3. On Squidgeworld. On dreamwidth. On Pillowfort.

It was a good thing, Iselle reflected as she watched her Chancellor and his wife lay out their luncheon, that all four of them were known as excellent riders with a love of speed and the skill to accomplish it safely. Days like this, when they'd managed to outride the rest of the court and find a place to picnic by themselves, were the only truly private speech they'd had for months.

"You know, this isn't going to work for too much longer," Bergon said. It was his turn to walk the horses to cool them down, and Iselle turned to watch him. The light sheen of sweat from exercise on a warm summer day gave him a very appealing glow, pleasantly reminding her of other things they might be doing to work up a sweat. "We're giving them too much practice, and I know for a fact that dy Garnez has sent for his younger brother, who I'm told is one of the best horsemen in Almesca, to attend us."

"There are other ways of slipping off alone," Iselle said.

"None as enjoyable as this one, though," Betriz said.

"Speak for yourself," Iselle said, ogling her husband. Betriz laughed.

"And eventually we'll be back in Cardegoss for the winter," Caz pointed out. "There, all the spyholes and things are under our control, and the servants loyal to us."

"And then next spring we get to start this whole circus all over again," Iselle said with a sigh. "You know, if you'd told me as a child that I would grow tired of travelling and wish to stay home, I would have declared you more mad than Mother." Who, of course, had not been mad at all, but only seemed that way.

"It isn't the travel, though," Bergon said. "It's being constantly on show."

"Well, that and the fact that we can't stay anywhere we actually like for too long," Iselle pointed out. Hosting the entire court was an immense honor … and also a great expense that could not be refused. Feasts, revels, all the sorts of entertainments a royal court might expect, redecorating the Royina and Roya's bedchambers in the latest fashions, and other costs piled up into a tidy sum. It was a delicate balance: staying just long enough with their supporters that they received the honor but were not too badly impacted, and then overstaying their welcome with the less honorable and loyal nobles without making it obvious that they were simply there to drain their coffers to lessen the trouble they could make.

"When you get pregnant, that'll be an excellent excuse to stay in Cardegoss or Valenda," Betriz pointed out. She sat back and admired the spread that had come out of their saddle bags. "There! Isn't that nice."

"It is, thank you," Iselle said, taking a seat on the blanket next to her friend.

Bergon tied off the horses to a bush—the only tree in the meadow was the one they were sitting under—and joined them. Caz said a blessing over their meal; when he'd first become her tutor, back in Valenda, such things had often been omitted or done by rote. No longer.

For a few minutes things were quiet as they all worked their way through the excellent spread of cold meats, cheeses, and pasties.

"So," Iselle said as they sated the initial appetite the ride had given them, "we leave the castle of Gipendio in two days to head to Irebar, where dy Rubanco has his primary seat. Is there anything we need to wrap up here?"

"No, madam," Caz said.

"I'll be sorry to leave," Bergon said wistfully. "Dy Lopeira is such good company." The two of them were well on their way to becoming fast friends.

"Well, he's invited to Cardegoss for the winter, and he'll probably come," Betriz pointed out. An invitation from Bergon and Iselle was not quite a command, but few would refuse without an overwhelming reason.

"Best soak up the camaraderie with him now," Caz said. "There'll be little enough of it in dy Rubanco's household."

Bergon grimaced, and Iselle sighed. dy Rubanco had not been involved in dy Jironal's wild march across Cardegoss to capture her and Bergon, but he had been a friend and loyal follower of the previous Chancellor. He'd been as close as dy Jironal had allowed anyone who wasn't family. dy Rubanco had, of course, professed all proper allegiance and disavowed his former master, but there were rumblings and rumors that Caz didn't like. In particular, there was a great deal of hostility to Ibra circulating in Irebar, with just enough plausible deniability for dy Rubanco that they couldn't do anything about it.

"How long do you think we'll have to stay?" she asked Caz.

Caz shrugged. "He's got deep pockets. On the other hand, part of that may be because of favors dy Jironal did for him. In particular, my clerks have turned up some discrepancies in the tax records for the area. By quite a substantial margin. In particular, a number of grain mills and smaller manors seem to have quietly vanished from the Chancellery's records over the course of Orico's reign."

"Can we get him to repay some of what he should have been paying all along?" Betriz asked.

"Probably not," Bergon said. "With dy Jironal dead, all he has to do is say that he paid his taxes through in-kind gifts we now can't trace."

"Or that there were a series of bad harvests, and it was only supposed to be a temporary reprieve, and he had no idea the Chancellor altered the records," Iselle pointed out. 'I had no idea the Chancellor's actions weren't legal or legitimate' was, unfortunately, a very popular defense in Chalion these days.

Betriz opened her mouth, probably to outline how to get enough proof of collusion to be worth doing something about, and then slumped with a sigh. "And if we went after him for it all, that would spoil the new beginning we're trying to create. Too bad. We could use the money."

"We could indeed," Caz said, making a face.

Iselle hummed agreement through a mouthful of pastie. Between wars they'd lost, tax breaks for his relatives, and funds diverted to those relatives and allies in one way or another, the treasury was rather threadbare. And the fact that Orico never traveled, staying at Cardegoss where the Roya's purse funded all the feasting and entertainment, didn't help. The roads were in a terrible state, major aqueducts and bridges that should be maintained by the Roya were in a state of disrepair, and there were so many neglected areas of the country where a small amount of attention and money would bring things into greater prosperity and stability.

"Still, getting the tax rolls properly updated will make a difference going forward," Caz said. "And mean that he has fewer funds to make trouble with."

Bergon sighed and took a swig of watered wine from his flask. "And we won't have a moment's peace or privacy while there for however long it takes to get everything straightened out and drain his current coffers."

"He's known for his elaborate spectacles," Betriz pointed out. "I've heard he has a court playwright who is rather good."

"And he'll be kind enough to loan us servants who will be happy to sleep at the foot of our beds so they can be attentive to our whims day or night," Iselle said. "And report everything to him, no doubt." Including not just her conversations and her visitors, but also the state of her menses, no doubt. She made a face.

"Well, we'll just have to deal with it," Bergon said pragmatically. "If nothing else, our enthusiastic marital intimacies will be better gossip than the things he's spreading around now."

Iselle made a face. Being known to be devoted to her husband and, er, enthusiastically trying for an heir was definitely better than the alternative; she still would rather not have people gossiping about her at all. But that was too much for a royina to ask for. "Months of no privacy, on display like an animal in a cage. Well, it's certainly a less expensive method of bringing him to heel than any other I can think of; it has that advantage."

"Less expensive for us, that is," Betriz said.

"No point letting tomorrow's problems spoil this lovely day, though," Bergon said.

"Hear, hear," Iselle said, saluting him with her flask. "And it is such a lovely day."

#fanfic #fanfiction #lois mcmaster bujold #the curse of chalion

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afoolandathief · 7 months

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Countdown to NaNo, Part 4/4: Some more characters ...

Two days till NaNoWriMo! I'm not sure how ready I am for it, but for my last post, here's some more characters in Something Wicked:

Violet Anouilh

A hedgewitch living in a ranch outside Las Vegas with her mother, Marie, where they care for monsters and other supernatural creatures in need. Her powers specialize in plant and fungal growth. Likes: Jade Shaw. Dislikes: Caz Mraz

Ruby Hall

Jade's best friend and a witch working at a casino as a magician's assistant. The real trick? She's a master of illusions and the magician in question is her rabbit and familiar, Domino.

Lila Brown

Caz's ex and a werewolf with a past. She and Caz had a wild time in the 90s and 2000s, but something happened since that led to her not speaking to Caz beyond a few sentences.

Amber and Ember Byrne

The Byrne twins operate a funeral home in a strip mall in Las Vegas, serving as a front for selling all manner of ingredients to other witches. With Everett "Ember" Byrne's fire magic and Amber's necromancy, they make a formidable pair indebted to Theoris Myrina since the late 80s. Which brings us to ...

Theoris Myrina

Jade's former mentor and head of the Southwest Coven, which Jade was a part of until she made a deal with a vampire. According to the Byrne twins, Theoris is making some big changes due to some influences back east.

Kenneth Brooks

A detective on the verge of retirement trying to solve a series of seemingly unconnected homicides and disappearances. Old-fashioned cop not afraid of old-fashioned policework — such as blackmailing Caz and Jade to do his dirty work for him.

Amelia [redacted]

Caz's last girlfriend, who left him after interpreting his secretiveness and strange habits as signs of a drug addiction. Caz is determined to win her back (but if he happens to date some others along the way, including a rich Fae prince, what’s the harm?).

Post 1/4, Post 2/4, Post 3/4

WIP: Something Wicked

Status: Draft 3.5 (rewrite)

NaNo profile: afoolandathief

NaNoWriMo 2022 Goal: Maybe 50K? we'll see

WIP taglist: (ask to be +/-): @author-a-holmes, @avian-writes, @captain-kraken, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @digital-chance, @diphthongsfordays, @drippingmoon, @ellierenae, @enchanted-lightning-aes, @faelanvance, @fearofahumanplanet, @flowerprose, @frankiestfrank, @houndmouthed, @joaniejustwokeup, @leiwritess-moved, @mjayatlas, @outpost51, @purplezebraproductions, @rhymingteelookatme, @somealienquill, @thegreatobsesso, @thelaughingstag, @vylequinnewriting, @writing-is-a-martial-art

#countdown to nanowrimo #nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2023 #something wicked #tw: drug mention #tw: spiders #tw: fire #long post

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numbaoneflaya · 2 months

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Caz infodump, cw p much everything.

She Changes the way she behaves around people in order to make them like her the most/ hard to put down a “real” her. Fawn type personality through years of having to survive by being as charming and nice as possible as to not be targeted. People pleaser not through any need to actually be liked, but as a survival mechanism because she’s spent a large portion of her life in situations where she had absolutely zero power and had to rely on people on top of a power structure to find her absolutely perfect. Always gotta be nice/funny/demure/smart/not too smart/ dull/entertaining/boring/easy going/accepting/everything all at once but nothing too much. Able to alter her behavior and persona at the blink of a hat as to come across best to anyone who meets her. I think this is why it’s so hard for me to write for her- it’s finding the base her, and being able to look past all her different aspects of performance to see the man behind the curtain.

At a base level she is scared of everything and everyone. She wants to be and at some level is very selfless, wanting to help as many people as she can, but on on other level, instinctually gravitates towards whatever will ensure her own safety. Her first instinct isn’t to save someone else in trouble- it’s to save her own hide. It’s only through effort that she chooses the former. She doesn’t want to be selfish or thinking of herself first, she wants to be selfless and heroic. It just takes a lot of self control and decisions in order for her to actually be so. She’d love to be able to say she didn’t ever want or ask to have the power of inquisitor. But she’s dreamed of power for a long time- power means you can’t get hurt, and if you are hurt, power means others come and save you. On a darker level, power means she can hurt who she wants to, when she wants to. And caz wants to hurt a lot of people, though she denies it to herself and others.

Caz is prone to fits of paranoia and panic attacks. She smokes a lot of elf root to stave off panic attacks, though sometimes it has the opposite effect and she smoked too much and freaks out.

Caz likes being inquisitor. People show her respect. People worship her, and that brings safety and a measure of love.

Cazes parents were devout andrasteans, hated and feared all forms of magic. Caz showed signs of harboring magic from a. Very young age. They used to drown her in a pond and pray they could pray the magic away. Her dad was an abusive alcoholic who beat the shit out of her and her mom. Her mom blamed her for tying herself to her husband and ruining her life. She never beat her hard, but was more verbally abusive. Her dad beat her with things like wooden planks with nails in them hard enough to give her deep set wounds in her behind and back that got infected and inflamed. He once used a hammer to nail her ears to a table. Her dad would beat the hell out of her mom, and when he left, caz would try and comfort and heal her mom, who would slap her away in fits of despair and scream sobb about how caz couldn’t help her, how it was her fault.

After they told the circle about her and let them take her, about a year in her mom killed herself. When caz escaped and came back to help her she was already dead. Then the circle got her again and she was punished for escaping.

The circle was also not great. Very bad. Caz is very mentally ill for a reason. Sexual assault by the first and only Templars she trusted who knew her since she was a kid, watching her best friend kill himself by jumping out the highest tower window, constant surveillance and more assault and deaths.

#caz #my ocs #she’s finally speaking 2 me

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physicallyherementallykissingmen · 2 months

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when i was younger, i think ten or so, i got real sick. ive gotten pretty sick since then. to the point I couldn’t eat. to the point I was vomiting blood. to the point i was shitting and pissing blood.

but when I was ten and I got real sick, i remember my mom and i slept on the couch. no. i slept on the couch. my mom stayed up until my dad woke up or came home from work so he could take her place and watch me sleep. watch my chest rise and fall. unevenly, but rising and falling.

eventually one night my chest ceased its uneven and unpredictable rhythm of rising and falling. it took a moment before my mom realized I’d stopped breathing. when she did, the lights in the living room, kitchen, and garage of my childhood home all flipped on.

almost in unison.

when i ask, my mom tells me that when my dad carried me to the car i started to regain consciousness. I don’t remember that. I don’t remember much of it at all.

i remember watching morning shows with my mom, as much as I didn’t like them it wasn’t like my mom would let me out of her sight in my condition. I remember sage shoving her snout in my face in her own way of showing confusion when I wouldn’t play with her like usual. I remember the stale air of my hospital room. I remember the blinding yet dim fluorescent lights. I remember the blanket put over my left arm, the same drill anytime ive gotten an IV.

I remember the fear and panic I felt when a nurse explained to my parents that my doctor was considering putting me on a ventilator.

No. I did not know what a ventilator was at the time.

I did know that it was a scary word. The type you would hear in a medical drama. Usually when a patient was soon to die.

The nurse explained to me what it was and how it worked. I don’t remember her name. nor her face. I do remember she had an incredibly warm presence.

of course in contrast to her warm presence i kept imagining the cold air in my lungs from the machine. I still am not entirely sure why i thought it would be freezing cold. Not that I ever got the chance to know what it felt like.

the cold air?

the cold air.

the cold air

the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air the cold air.

the cold air

the cold air.

the cold air?

yeah.

too cold.

im not in that bed anymore. im not ten anymore. im not anymore. im not with my parents anymore. im not in the hospital anymore. im not sick anymore. im not alone anymore.

im not alone.

I have Caz. I have Easton. I have Emma. I have Finch. I have Gabriel. I have Lars.

they have me. i think.

im not even sure if I have me.

Lars has me. he has my hand in his as we walk under scaffolding. as we make it to the end of the scaffolding he no longer has me. i no longer have myself. no one else really has me. earth has me. she has me. she has me despite the thick layers of concrete and the tunnels under the city separating me from her dirt.

i feel such a void between my bones and my flesh. a void between my brain and my skull. a void between my heart and my ribs.

not a big one. (hah. that would be a funny image.)

but a thick one. a heavy heavy void. it weighs me down yet makes me weightless at the same time.

Lars still has me. at least my hand he has. i feel my grip loosen around his. not much loosen as my hand went limp.

we finally find a cable car. the conductor(?) stands beside it. i don’t see his face. im sure he had one. with a nose and a mouth. maybe even two eyes, hopefully.

Gabriel asks him how much it costs for a ride.

despite being confused at when we found our way to the trolley, the sign that has 8$ written on it in some fancy font has giant flashing lights, cartoonish arrows pointing at it in my mind.

and despite subconsciously hearing the trolley guy tell Gabriel that the trolley won’t take us where we’re supposed to be heading, in fact quite the opposite, i dig through my back pocket and pull out all my cash.

i was told i shouldn’t spend all my money.

i was told by the cops I shouldn’t be alone at night in a big city.

i was told i shouldn’t spend all my money.

but fuck. if there’s a time it’s now.

the group starts to fall further in a slump. more dead ends. more time not on the train. more time not driving home. more time not at home. more time not in bed. more time here. more time in this city.

more time in this city at night.

the group has started to walk back to the sidewalk. I am standing on wobbly legs, counting the cash in my hands. I am standing on wobbly legs, counting the cash in my hands, trying to divide fifty by eight. I am standing on wobbly legs, counting the cash in my hands, trying to divide fifty by eight, fighting the urge to bash my head because maybe then the numbers will fall together.

im not okay.

the numbers won’t fall together.

the cable car won’t take us to the train station.

i do not know the bangs are fireworks

i do not know when I will get home

i do not know when i will get home

i do not know where i am

i am alone.

I am shaking.

I am losing grip.

I’m losing it.

my legs wont support me.

my knees are gonna buckle.

im gonna fall.

im not gonna be able to get back up.

it would be a strange headline the next morning.

“Area man dies of fright outside of a 7/11!”

im gonna die here.

im not gonna make it home this time am I?

im not gonna

I am not alone.

Hi, Emma.

im not sure if my knees are buckling.

if they are im staying up right.

if they are im staying up right in your arms.

i know i am not okay.

im definitely not okay.

i know my body is probably crushing yours as i use you as life raft in the sea that is my chemically imbalanced mind. i think im hyperventilating. i know im hyperventilating as i hear you whisper to me to breathe.

it comes out impossibly soft your voice. your tone only makes me want to crumble further. your tone makes me feel so incredibly safe when I have never felt so in danger.

I’d stay there like that.

but after a moment I process that you’ve whispered to me that the group has continued on and that we need to keep moving.

I will myself to keep walking.

You will me too as well.

you’re keeping me up right as you hold my hand, stay by my side, guide me as we fall back in with the group.

we cross the street.

I still hear you telling me everything will be okay. you telling me that im okay. that we’re all okay, and that we’re safe.

i can’t meet your eyeline.

when i do, I find myself so much more lost.

when i meet your eyeline, i see your eyes.

just your eyes.

I don’t see your nose or mouth.

I can’t make anything else out.

i crumble a bit further.

i find it better to not look at you.

i will look at you when you have a face again.

we’re on the other side of the scaffolding now. the group behind us still.

as much as im trying to protecting myself, i am trying protect you.

god knows you are a barbie girl.

god knows that this is not a barbie world.

so as i look to see if anyone is walking towards us i see a bus.

the bus.

the bus that will take us to the train station.

salvation if you could call it that.

salvation that probably has piss and semen on it.

salvation that probably had slurs carved into it.

salvation that took people where they needed to go.