@writermuses asked for a starter || status: accepting || ft celesté
“ if you can’t be happy, at least you can be drunk. ” the case had not gone over well, and she had to hand over yet another power puff piece come monday morning. she had several on hand, but still. celesté had hoped to get her article accepted and get one step close to serious journalism. instead she was at her favorite local bar, ordering one more tequila to add to her previously ingested 3. not really caring who heard her.
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Githyanki doodling on post-it notes that I cleaned up a lil bit
Lae'zel from memory on the first (im only happy with the profile tbh), and Anma and Mitas on the second (It was SO easy to fit them in BG3 lore it's insane... I even have a whole storyline roughly figured out for them and it came together in like 30 minutes on my walk home from work.)
I don't have any energy to draw nowadays except on post-its, but it's better than nothing.
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"You’ve met the Fools of Fate"~
@pure-plum Latest Weal and Woe chapter was so sweet I swear my soul melted a bit from reading it :'3 Honestly Eclipse seems so nervous there, I genuinely just want to hug that anxiousness out of him xD
Tho here I made him look a little more malicious. Gotta think twice about that hug hehe :>
And some process under the cut cuz why not x)
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The way BG3 approaches revenge is so interesting. It never says anyone is wrong to kill someone who's done them harm, but it does say that doing so alone won't fix the trauma.
Aylin just feels empty after killing Lorroakan. Astarion admits killing Cazador didn't feel how he expected it would either; he feels numb for a while and it changes his perspective on things. Karlach kills Gortash and it isn't satisfying, because he never felt sorry for the life he took from her and now she has to grapple with how little she has left.
Again, they weren't wrong to crave that catharsis and the safety it brings them. But revenge is never the end of healing. It's only the beginning. Choosing to live again is maybe the best revenge there is.
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thirteen update ☀️🥀🪰🏚️
chapter 6: march
summary:
(“Be here. For Adrien.”
“Emilie, I can’t…”
“For me, then. Love him for my sake.”)
A sob cracked open Adrien’s chest. He ripped away from the wall, clapping a hand over his mouth to try and stifle himself. His lungs wheezed, a crumpled can, and the world slipped off its axis.
She was dying. She was dying. She was dying, for real, and soon, and this was what they hadn’t wanted to tell him.
excerpt:
Time barrelled on after that, like a ground speeding toward him in freefall.
Lessons slipped through his head and smiles stretched over his mouth and Adrien’s life became, more than ever before, defined by the moment he would next see Maman. It was like his brain couldn’t catch hold of anything else, couldn’t grasp it. Even when he was out doing other things, in other places, he wasn’t really. He was always back with her.
The shift happened sometime in the beginning of March.
A change in the air, the bones. The house held its breath. Walls stood cleaner and quieter and bigger than before. Or maybe Adrien just got smaller. Maybe it was like a vacuum, like he’d learned about in physics. All the air sucked out of his lungs, crumpled up like a can.
The silence was the worst. When Adrien was gone, he could lose himself a little. Turn his brain off at photoshoots and fall into the monotony of fabric on his body, skin on his face, hands all over, fixing him and fixing him and fixing him. Dissolve into the rhythm of fencing, blocking and thrusting and parrying and sweating and not thinking not thinking not thinking. But being inside the house was different. He couldn’t do anything but think, couldn’t be anyone but himself. Even his shows started to fall flat; Adrien found himself restarting the same Ouran episode ten times because he hadn’t absorbed a thing. The house was so quiet, his brain so loud. The world was transparent and he wasn’t quite sure he was real.
And then he would see Maman.
read on ao3
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hi there~
Would you mind if I request ascended and non ascended astarion falling for a very timid and innocent girl? Like his complete opposite. She's just so sweet, and caring, and pure. I like to think he spots her from his castle as she's picking flowers or something. Decides he just has to have her.
If not it's totally okay. I just saw your head canons and really enjoyed them
(I focused on ascended Astarion because I thought it fit him a tad more.)
You were a constant in his routine. When he first acquired the palace as his own. Every morning he’d spot you in a nearby field through the window.
You were a pretty sight. A natural beauty, he reckoned, though it seemed you knew how to enhance your pleasant features. A little makeup never hurt, after all. It was almost a ritual to open the blinds and watch you after his breakfast. He admired you from afar as he adjusted to his newfound position and power. He grew his spawn following and his confidence in himself. Astarion could have anything he wanted. He had everything but you. What was stopping him, really? You’d be so much prettier dressed in his clothes and in his walls. A wolfish grin spread along his features and he turned with newfound interest.
You were walking home from buying goods at local stalls. The sun was cresting over the hills and leaving an orange dew on the land. You’d make it home before night, you thought to yourself, as you walked the streets. It was the bounty of spring. A truly fruitful time for crop-sellers and a flower picker such as yourself. Flowers were versatile. Teas, decorations, jewelry… really, if you put your mind to it you could make anything of them. They were only one of your interests, though. Lost in thought you didn’t notice the stalker in the dark. One of Astarion’s spawn sent to capture you. Capture you they did. Hands locked around your front and mouth as they drew you from sight. All but a basket dropped on the ground as evidence. You didn’t even have time to scream.
Next thing you knew was the ornate halls of the palace. Ushered by the spawn into a throne room. Sat was a pale man with even paler hair yet eyes so striking your throat dried. He smiled at the sight of you and closed the distance with careful strides. He presented a flower from his pocket. A scarlet rose, you recall, and held it for you to take. You swallowed thickly, plucking it between finger and thumb. He grinned deeper at that, taking it as an invitation. “I’ve watched you for some time.” He began and your eyebrows raised in shock. Who was he? “I believe this will be much easier if you just submit, darling. I’ll take care of such a precious flower like you. I’ll give you everything.” His eyes betrayed his poised demeanor. They had a hunger in their depths. One that made you shiver. You couldn’t say no. Not with the bruising grip of your kidnappers assistant. You were caught in the jaws, unknowingly prey, so you’d lay limp and play along.
Who knows? Possibly this could be an arrangement that works well for you. If you decided to remain blissfully optimistic.
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