Hey folx and welcome! This blog is currently dedicated primarily to Baldur's Gate 3 content, both reblogging other's work and posting my writing related to my OC, Miss Fortune, and Astarion. You can also find me on insta, same handle @missfortunetherogue - I mostly post bg3 memes and screenshots there.
About me
Primarily keeping myself out of this but I can share a little. While Miss Fortune isn't a self-insert character you can still call me Miss Fortune (or Rogue) if you wish.
āØĀ Non-binary (they/them pronouns), queer/demisexual
āØĀ Favorite bands: Sleep Token, Lord of the Lost, Motionless in White
āØĀ Other favorite video games (BG3 obvs takes top spot): Persona 5, Okami, Skyrim, Stardew Valley
āØĀ Other interests: making chainmail, veggie gardening, mythology and folklore (esp. Japanese folktales and yokai), gluten free baking
More favorites in this post
My writing
My main fic currently is The Embrace of Love and Death, which will have three parts (one for each act of the game). Following that, I have plans for a post-canon story (untitled) following Miss Fortune and Astarion - it'll be a spy/assassin's guild kind of story where the rogues get to keep being cute, sneaky, and stabby. I also have several short rests which are flash fiction stories showing in-between moments or backstory glimpses.
The Embrace of Love and Death (link goes to tag)
Part 1: Reluctance (complete)
Part 2: Rediscovery - (ongoing - 4 chapters published)
Part 3: Reclamation - TBD
Short rests (Miss Fortune POV unless otherwise stated):
All Tied Up and Nowhere to Go (Tumblr) (AO3)
Let Me Help You with That! (Tumblr) (AO3)
Unpacking the Poison - Astarion POV (Tumblr) (AO3)
Wake Up, Darling! Part 1 - Astarion POV (Tumblr) (AO3)
Wake Up, Darling! Part 2 - Astarion POV (Tumblr) (AO3)
Wake Up, Darling! Part 3 - Astarion POV (Tumblr) (AO3)
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Reimagine your OC as a music artist! Recast them as a real musician - who would they be? Which era, which genre, which iconic album covers and messy tabloid moments? Or invent their music career from scratch - stage name, sound, aesthetic, lyrics, the works
Was tagged by @missfortunetherogue and @litsenn, who have made wonderful VP for this tag with their OCs. Gently tagging @lucretiouswept, @riddlerosehearts, @baelthi and @lilhumanoid.
Imrae as Vivaldi
Despite the tempation to make the stone sorcerer a rock star (hah), that's not really his type of music. Part of Imrae's lore is that he hears the "song of the Underdark", so a musician/composer who is most famous for transcribing natural aspects like the four seasons into pieces of music was a good fit for him.
Tag game post and shameless advertisement for my incredibly skilled, talented artist and friend, Nick @quinthebard - you're tagged, btw! š
Tempest āGenieā Eugenia Valourheart
As many of you already know.
But what I havenāt shared... is that for the past 300 years, her family has adopted conventional FaerĆ»nian names to better navigate the political world of Baldurās Gate. Their Katashakan names and heritage are closely guarded secrets, known only within the family. They conceal their origins to protect both themselves and the wider world from the entity lying dormant in their bloodline - a curse inherited from the ancestor who bound himself to an evil purpose and became the instrument of a civilisationās downfall.
Tempest no longer uses Eugenia, the name given to her at birth. As a Sorceress Adept of the War Wizards, she was required to choose a new name during her proving - one that reflects her combat abilities while obscuring her identity from enemy eyes. The Cormyrian Royal Mages deliberately recruit those without strong family ties, shaping them into instruments wholly devoted to the cause and loyal to the throne.
Inyazi
Her Katashakan name, meaning ālightningā and inspired by the Xhosa & Zulu languages: Unyazi. It is a common practice for the Valourhearts to give their scions names associated with the sky.
Inhliziyo Yonyazi
And, authentic to D&D tradition, Tempest also has a true name - one never meant to be spoken aloud: Inhliziyo Yonyazi, meaning āHeart of Lightningā (Zulu/South African origin). If that doesnāt have destiny written all over it, I donāt know what does.
"Roro" inyoni yezulu
The storm entity dormant within her heart is called Roro, an Easter egg referencing Ororo Munroe. Roro is one of the divine inyoni yezuluĀ (Xhosa/Zulu origins: "bird of the sky"). The storm eagles: rulers of the skies, also known in shamanic tradition as Children of the Sky Mother.
Thank you for tagging me, @saylofwaterdeep & @ceremorph0sis!
I have collected tags and uno-reverses like a chunk of ferrous metal doth iron filings (mostly because I haven't been as active.)
Thank you very much @defira85, @litsenn, @woundedsoul12, @gortashsrighthand, @cinder-rellish181, @saylofwaterdeep, @elinorbard, & @optimisticgrey.
Hopefully, I haven't missed anyone, but if I did, I probably tagged you at the end anyway. š
I'm continuing the excerpt from Cheese Partaken At A Late Hour, Part 3, and picking up right after a certain canon event. During a moment of extreme transition, Mara has a vision of who she was when she would have referred to herself as āThe Prophet of the Endā unironically, and glimpses of the source of her dark powers.
TW: major character death (but we know how this goes with Durge), cannibalism, angst, violent murder, and suicidal thoughts/visions
[Reminder: in this universe, all companions are dead]
Mara's dark tendrils shot out in all directions, found every invoker, death's head and lowly initiate within the sacrificial amphitheatre and its adjacent rooms. They twisted into stilettos, pierced up under their jaws, lifted them off their feet, and flung their twitching corpses into the chasms below.Ā
āBe not a fool and view their deaths as a sacrifice, unworthy creator. See them as they are: a declaration of war. You hide, puppeting the butler, because you are weak, just like your two dear, old friends that you expected me to kill for you. I will trace the trail of your blood in my veins. And when I find you, I will END you!āĀ
It was undoubtedly reckless to call a god weak in his own house, but Mara was far, far too furious to act with any semblance of wisdom or foresight. Even so, for half a moment, the Lord of Murder hesitated. Whether he was shocked, incensed, disappointed, or truly threatened by the words of his most precious offspring was difficult to tell.Ā
Nonetheless, his momentary silence was deafening.
Finally, he spoke through the reflection of Sceleritas in Orin's blood once more. āNo, dear daughter, it is I who will end you. I shall makeā¦ another.āĀ
Divine magic lifted her off her feet as she sputtered curses, fighting desperately to avoid unconsciousness. Slowly, excruciatingly, Bhaal pulled every drop of him from her and greedily drew it back into himself. For a second, Mara thought it might have been the worst pain she'd ever felt, but then she saw them.Ā
All of them.Ā
They stood around her in a circle, watching, accusing. Alfira's tears transformed to song and laughter, then to helpless whimpers of agony. Astarion's smirking swagger became a pleasant yet baffling surprise, then utter shock. Halsin's warm smile grew ever warmer, wilting into pity as the light left his eyes. Shadowheart's begrudging head tilt twisted into a glower of horror. Kar'niss's sharp-toothed wonder soured into bitter betrayal. Lae'zel's aloof lip-curl shifted to accord, solidarity, then disgust. Wyll's compassionate grin melted into a grimace of terror. Karlach's riotous laughter ended abruptly, her wail of grief all but shaking the heavens themselves. Minthara softened from menace into calm, then to rage and fruitless defiance.
At last, she saw Gale, his impossibly beautiful brown eyes wide, hopeful, and loving, but unlike the others, they did not change. Hope never left him. It persisted, even as blood splattered his face and soaked his beard. Gale's dauntless love made a fool of death. It crawled over her accursed, untouched skin and her now unchallenged mind. It hollowed her heart, its emptiness throbbing endlessly, a void that could do nought but wail his name.Ā
Mara would never recover from him. Not in a thousand years. She didn't even want to. The agony was not sweet or kind. It was ragged and brutal, ripping her to pieces again and again, but the pain was all she had left. The only proof that he'd ever loved her, that she'd ever loved him. She clutched it close and refused to let go.Ā
As darkness closed in on her vision, she gazed up into the glowing red eyes of Bhaal's huge symbol above. With her last, fading breath, she whispered, āCowardā¦ā
She did not see the lights surge and fill the temple, nor feel the chamber floor quake beneath her, nor witness the butler's stolen features contort in rage and, implacablyā¦ sorrow.
Death should have been peaceful, an end she had craved since that horrible night, but it wasn't. Perhaps it was due to the manner in which Withers intervened, but her restoration was not instant this time. Maybe it was Bhaal's divine essence leaving her, or one too many resurrections, but she saw something.Ā
A willowy form wafted toward her from within a darkness alive with thousands of colors. Stars, she realized. The cycle of nebulous birth to heat death repeated again and again, in an eyeblink, all across her vision.Ā
The creature wore a robe that concealed their hands. A veil covered their face. White that was not white. A color that had no name, save a piece she suddenly knew was part of the creature's own: pale.
In her distant past, Mara saw herself, her hair twisted and tied back, her lips drawn in a wicked grin, her armor made of bones and skulls and tattered cloth, splashed with crimson and black blood, driving a glaive into the veiled face of the creature. Then she carved open their chest, cracked the ribcage and removed a tar-black heart that still fluttered ever so slightly in her hands. She sank her teeth, and the bite trembled on her tongue. Each and every mouthful quivered all the way down.Ā
Once the heart was consumed, the creature sprang its secondary assault. Darkness dropped as a heavy blanket upon her, fit to soothe away her savagery, but its weight changed from comfort to horror, as terrible knowledge crept into the crevices of her gray matter. Voices came. Incoherent sounds that were almost words, but not quite.Ā
The space between held a terror so old she could not be certain whether it had always been there, or if it was never truly hers to begin with.Ā
It was, quite simply put, utter madness.Ā
It gibbered and chittered and flashed nonsense across her eyes. It slithered over her skin, making her feel itchy and damp at the same time. A strange agony filled her, not from injury or illness, but from incompetence, the inability to cross the gnawing chasm between thought and action.Ā
But Mara had learned patience by then.Ā
The Chosen of a dead god must know patience.
The second the decision to wait had formed, the numbers arrived. A parade of slow equations came at first, complex and sharp, beautiful in their symmetry, then they were streaking snowflakes in a blizzard, each facet of the crystallized molecules a fractal within a fractal, split across dimensions and intersecting realities. Impossibly, she could see them all. A torrent of unfiltered truth ripped into her. It flung her from the edge of the universe to the center and back again, screaming.Ā
Mara knew it was trying to break her, but one fashioned of godflesh does not break easily. In her murderous fantasies, she had conquered the cosmos a hundred thousand times in a hundred thousand different ways. A Lanceboard match against her was over before it had begun. She had never, ever lost. She was the inevitable end of all realities, and nothing this creature could do would ever change that.Ā
Oh, how it tried, though.Ā
It attempted to trap her inside a version of herself that had lost everything, a grieving, agonized, broken woman, abandoned even by Bhaal, wailing pathetically as she tried to end her own life, only to find herself alive once more, and every single wound opened anew. It desperately insisted that this dreadful end would be hers, but she would not be convinced.Ā
A truth that could not be believed was powerless.Ā
All of this Mara had endured passively enough, screaming when expected, as a means to study her opponent. What she had slain was only a fragment of a greater whole. What attacked her now was the brunt of its army. This thing that could never be one thing, only an immeasurable abstraction, an idea that upon taking a single shape was obliterated and reborn, still had an objective. Its purpose was to stop her, but to stop her from what?Ā
As its assault continued, stretching the limits of her senses and her mind, Mara launched a counter. She met its madness with reason, twisting it in upon itself. Then, into its balanced, perfect equations, she introduced nonsense. Its emotional manipulation met a will without doubt, pride that did not fear failure, but saw it as no more than an alternative path to victory.Ā
She heard it cursing faintly in a dialect of Abyssal so ancient it was almost math.Ā
Of a sudden, it struck her with something that sent her reeling. Apparently, it had been studying her, too.Ā
It overwhelmed her from head to toe, bones to skin, soul to body and back again.Ā
Thank you @optimisticgrey and @kt-catt for the tags! I thought that since I'm leaving for vacation after work today, I would just combine these two things into one cuz I'm gonna be busy having FUN!!
Please enjoy some of my absolutely OBSESSED Ascended Astarion >:3
Serving Up: 496 words from the draft of Chapter 19 of my fanfiction Stealing Moonlight
Astarion swept from the sunroom with far less grace than before, the heels of his boots striking sharply against the marble floors as he tore through the adjoining corridor. The servants lingering there scattered almost immediately upon his approach, pressing themselves hurriedly against the walls while he stormed past them without so much as an acknowledging glance in their direction.
Every damned hallway was drenched with her scent.
Rosehip oils that clung stubbornly to the carved banisters beneath his fingertips. Lemongrass drifting through the stale palace air in maddening little waves that made it feel as though she lingered just beyond the next doorway. Just beyond the next staircase. Just beyond his reach.
Always almost.
Never there.
Only her scent lingering like a taunt.
His palace had become infested with her.
She coated every surface. Every corridor. Every stretch of marble beneath his feet. He could practically feel the phantom warmth of her skin still lingering against velvet curtains and silk sheets alike. Could almost hear the soft padding of her bare feet as it disappeared down distant hallways whenever he slowed long enough to listen for it.
And it was beginning to drive him mad.
Astarion descended another staircase with quick, vicious strides, shoving one of his spawn aside when the man failed to move from his path quickly enough. The poor thing stumbled sharply against the wall, clearly startled by his violence, but it was as if the Vampire Ascendant scarcely even noticed.
Where was she?
His senses stretched desperately through the palace around him, searching for the quick rhythm of her heartbeat amongst his still living staff. Every time heād thought he caught it, it would vanish again beneath the weight of his servants and mortal guests drifting throughout the manor below.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Godsdamnit.
The frustration clawed steadily sharper through him with every passing second that she wasnāt in his grasp.
And then, all at once, a far uglier thought began to unfurl in his mind.
What if she was gone?
The thought struck him so suddenly that his steps faltered outright.
Gone?!
No.
Surely not. Not his Rhia. Not his darling little love.
But the more rooms he tore through without finding her, the more poisonous that possibility became.
What if she had finally come to her senses?
What if she had finally remembered exactly what kind of monster he was and slipped away when his attention had been occupied elsewhere? Vanished from his palace like water through open fingers while he sat wasting precious hours entertaining godsdamned nobles and shit-stinking merchants below?
He laughed, and the sound of it echoing off of the walls of the empty corridor was not a pleasant thing. It was short. Humorless. The kind of sarcastic laugh one released when they realized their plan had failed.
Of course she had left him. Of course she did.
The thought turned bitter almost instantly, his jaw locked so hard the ache of it radiated up through his skull.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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|| Timeline: Alternate Universe || Word count: 1.100||
|| Relationships: Imrae x Astarion, Lledrith x Imrhys ||
Taglist: @missfortunetherogue
Eleven 100-word vignettes of Imrae and Astarion in an alternate timeline where Lledrith and Imrhys, Imrae's parents, are the leaders of the tadpoled adventurers.
Dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics
CONTENT WARNING: Mild mentions of Astarion's past
One night, a face appeared in Astarion's mirror.
Not his own, sadly, but one strikingly similar to the drow sorceress leading their group.
āIlhar? Ilharn?ā the young man asked.
āUm. Hello?ā Astarion tried.
āI cannot see you. Straj.ā
āHe's a vampire, my treasure.ā Lledrith walked up to him, husband in tow. āHe has no reflection.ā
āShout it from the rooftops, will you?ā
Her son beamed with relief. āIlhar! Thank Ibrandul.ā
āSome privacy, Astarion? Thank you.ā Lledrith left no room for discussion.
Astarion caught little of that conversation, but heard the young drow's name.
Imyaraen.
The drow's face reappeared a fortnight later, and again, Astarion was driven from his sanctuary.
So he formed a plan. A nice, simple plan.
There was no seducing Lledrith, so obsessed with her husband Imrhys.
But he could learn all about them from their son, then manipulate them, if he played his cards right.
He could stay safe. He could gain his freedom.
The next time, he was ready. āGood evening, Imyaraen.ā
āAstarion, right?ā The drow smiled. āPlease, call me Imrae. All my friends do.ā
If he had any, Astarion finished the sentence.
Oh, this would be very easy.
āYour parents are fighting.ā
Imrae's purple face paled. āWhat? About what?ā
āSome drow woman leading the goblins. Minthara.ā
āBaenre?ā
Astarion shrugged, then realized his mistake. āMaybe?ā
āMy father's old foe.ā Imrae sighed.
āOh, shared history?ā Astarion probed.
Imrae laughed, no, cackled. āNot like that!ā
āSpoilsport.ā Astarion couldn't help but smile. āYour father thinks killing her while infected is wrong.ā
After pondering for a bit, Imrae suggested, āTell him 'Desperate times call for desperate measures.'ā
āMagnificent! I knew I could count on you.ā
Imrae blushed at the praise.
Oh, how easy this would be.
āGood evening. Your parents are off, celebrating,ā Astarion greeted, then laughed at Imrae's grimace.
The drow observed the dying festivities. āDid you enjoy yourself?ā
āHardly. Vinegar for wine and disenchanting company.ā
āYou poor thing.ā
āI am!ā Astarion agreed. āWhat's a beautiful gent got to do for some revelry?ā
āBeautiful?ā Imrae laughed. āI will take your word for it.ā
Reimagine your OC as a music artist! Recast them as a real musician - who would they be? Which era, which genre, which iconic album covers and messy tabloid moments? Or invent their music career from scratch - stage name, sound, aesthetic, lyrics, the works
Thank you for the tags, @carnivaley @litsenn @optimisticgrey @chaushaus @elceewunjo! Loved seeing your rock/pop stars š
In turn, gentlest of tags for @cinder-rellish181 @spillingteanotpermitted @theya-art @lucretiouswept @unovafarm @careful-l-bite @andromedaancunin @alwaysmauria @et-augury @grandninjamasterren @gloura @zombrigit @bongbubbles and @thepalelawyer - if you've done it already, tag me? Would love to see.
Miss Fortune as an industrial goth vocalist/front-person
You may have expected me to go with an over-the-top pop diva given *gestures to all of Miss Fortune* their fabulousness. HOWEVER... drag culture has a vibrant element of lip syncing and impersonating female pop stars. I've even done a few shots of MF doing the same (will include below) and hope to do even more over time (I'll gladly take pop diva requests in the comments!).
Drop the persona and masks however, and Sasha performing as themselves would gravitate towards darker, more macabre themes. They'd be a vocalist and/or keyboardist in a goth industrial band just like Lord of the Lost, or perhaps The Birthday Massacre.
I went for LoTL here because they are a sex-positive, queer-positive band who are not afraid to play around with gender representation and, I think it's safe to assume, believe the adage that "all clothing is unisex if you're not a little bitch about it."
Miss Fortune would have so much fun in a band like this, wearing fabulous getups while singing about the sad, dark, tragic parts of life and also composing encouraging messages that there is beauty in the darkness, and that depression and tragedy don't have to define you.
They'd also use their platform to be as openly queer as possible and get queerer with every hate comment until they hit maximum queerness lol. They'd very openly sing love songs with he/him as the object of their desire and give zero fucks if someone didn't like it, pointing them to the 95% other musicians singing about cishet love.
Some lyrics because I can't help myself
From "La Bomba" - fun, high-energy, sex-positive
Run, baby, run!
We are dancing in the sun
And we make love like loaded guns
It's fulmicent
Rock, baby, rock!
Come with me I come with you, La Bomba!
Come for me I come for you, La Bomba!
Come on me I come on you, La Bomba!
La Bomba! Explosion! Kaboom!
From "Voodoo Doll" - themes of freedom/control
So go ahead, carve your candle
With the knife with the white handle
This is my life after all
I'm not your voodoo doll
Voodoo doll
I don't belong to anyone
I'm not a puppet with my strings in your hand
I don't belong to anyone
I won't obey your commands
From "I Hate People" (ft. Wednesday 13) - in your face advocacy
I hate people being told who they love is a sin
I hate people being oppressed with no freedom to think
I hate people feeling forced to collude in the spin
I hate people
We never ever have to pick a side (I hate people)
We never have to be somebody else (I hate people)
The one and only thing that's ever right
Whatever they tell be true to yourself
Miss Fortune's past impersonations
A few looks they've done in the past of other artists that, as a drag queen, they would have lip synched to:
Freddie Mercury from Queen
Caleb Shomo from Beartooth (specifically in the "Free" video)
Chappell Roan (with backup dancers Mauria by @alwaysmauria and Octavia by @dramatiquechipmunk)
Reimagine your OC as a music artist! Recast them as a real musician - who would they be? Which era, which genre, which iconic album covers and messy tabloid moments? Or invent their music career from scratch - stage name, sound, aesthetic, lyrics, the works
Bonus questions: What's their biggest hit about? What are they like on stage vs in interviews? Do they have a rival? What do the fans call themselves?
Thank you so much for the tag @litsenn, I got struck by inspiration with this one and might have overdone things a little and spent way too much time drawing for it ^^ (this is why I cannot keep up guys, every tag game I decide to answer takes me five days of work because I have no self control xD)
Natavriel as Aurora
Is there a singer that gives off fairy vibes as much as Aurora does? :3 I mean, she's not alone in that, but I associate a lot of her songs with Tav, their relationship with both Storm, Astarion, and their own self, she's the best fit for them.
I changed the colours and clothes slightly to fit Natavriel's vibe a bit more :3 And Tav gets their long hair becaue I say so.
Now for the actual songs....
A Soul With No King
I like this one because this is the closest I've ever gotten to think to myself "oh that's a good fit for Tav's voice", it's in Aurora's lower register especially towards the middle of the song, and I just like the vibe. Sometimes when listening to it I pretend she's talking about an archfey rather than about the devil and that makes it more Tav coded :3 Tav would definitely sing about archfeys lol
The Essence
[Verse 1]
In another life
Home feels like home
I've mourned you now
Longer than I've known you
As the trees
Cry their leaves
Vulnerable
Just like me
[Chorus]
Maybe, maybe it will be alright
We all hurt sometimes, and
Maybe, maybe it will be alright
We are running through the waves of time
And the truth can lie in the arms of a fight
And I try, and I try
But it hurts so much
To be in touch
So I'd rather not
This one hurts a bit in the context of losing Storm. And Tav withdrawing into emotional numbness as depression comes and they can't cope. They know it will get better, that does not mean the hurt is easier to bear, and for a moment they cannot help but retreat away from it all, the world, themself, the pain, everything that they love.
Also that "In another life, Home feels like home", is exactly what the recent happy AU one shot is about so double hurt points hahaha. This song could have been written by Tav, about Storm. That one and The Weight of Missing, both.
The Conflict of the Mind
This is Storm and Tav's song :3 I've already spoken a bit about it here so I won't repeat myself this post is already long ^^ But this could also have been written and sung by Tav, no doubt there.
I also have one that I associate more with their relationship with Astarion but I don't have much to say about the lyrics it's more vibes based haha
Giving In to the Love
[Verse 1]
I'm losing my connection
I'm tired of the rules and your corrections
I want to live my life, be all of its pages
And underline that I am not an angel
[Pre-Chorus]
'Cause if I'm not pure, I guess that I'm too much
I never know how to keep in, keep in touch
[Chorus]
If I'll be somebody, I'll never let my skin decide it for me
I never had the world, so why change for it?
I never had the world, so why change for it?
[Post-Chorus]
Giving in to the love
Giving in to the love
Last one, because I love that this can relate to Tav being somewhat (alright, very) unconventional in many ways. They love many people very deeply and one could say even passionately, and yet they very rarely fall in love the way most people mean that. They've been considered too much so many times in their life, it take counscious effort to not retreat and still give in to the love that they have for people, still choose to love even thought it might be misinterpreted. And that line about "I am not an angel" is also very Tav, because despite being good aligned and most of the time unhealthily selfless, they are very amused when people put them in the "hero" category the way both Wyll and Astarion did at first glance. Because that's definitely not it. Their sense of morality has been too impacted by the Feywild to be considered an angel š¤ (cue to them being completely unphased by murder and cannibalism. side eye to Storm.)
Let's just say Aurora often sings about struggle, grief, finding oneself through that in spite of all through the connections with other people and the world as a whole, and she also sings about beauty and the joy of life despite the struggle. All of that is very fitting for someone like Natavriel.
Gently tagging @missfortunetherogue, @riddlerosehearts, and @scoldingdarjeeling if you want :3 If you've done it already tell me <3
Anybody else who wants to do this, feel free to take this as an open tag <3
I had no intentions of really ever exploring astrology for my characters, but I had a random thought earlier today since I gave Ellie an actual approximation of her birthdate and was curious.
Also had no intentions of making this a tag until I got to the end of this post (tagging everyone I can think of off the top of my head below), but now Iām super curious about everyoneās OCās:
If youāve given your OC a birthdate (or even an approximation), look up their astrology and tell me how alike or different they are from their sign. If you havenāt given them a birthdate, tell me what zodiac sign you think theyād be and why! And heck, if you feel like it, throw in some fanfic, VP, or art.
Eleint is (from what I understand; correct me if Iām wrong) for all intents and purposes September. And if she was found Late Eleint, that would put her birthday approximately three weeks-ish prior in Eleint.
Which essentially makes Ellie a Virgo. And Ellie very much gives Virgo vibes. I searched up some characteristics for funsies and if itās not her to a T (taken from a google search so virgos tell me if these are wrong):
Calculating and assessing events and people around them.
Their talent for analysis makes them very detail oriented (which I havenāt done much with yet, but is how I pictured her.)
Perfectly happy to be alone.
Can find or create order in the chaos.
Honest
Discerning to a fault, but great advice givers
Perfectionists (didnāt personally give her this trait, but I could see her easily being one).
Can have a generous nature - which, I give her on her tadpole journey that she helps others (especially the tieflings) and sheās not even sure why sheās concerned so I find this one funny.
Can become hyper-critical of themselves (looking at you, Act 2 Ellie)
When in a supportive team, they can be great at helping their colleagues better themselves and deal with difficult tasks (see: tadfools)
AND OMG I JUST GOT TO THE LOVE/RELATIONSHIP SECTION:
Virgos can be extremely picky, meaning that they can take their time to find the āright oneā.
Quite happy to remain single until they find the āright oneā, which means that when they do finally fall in love, they are loyal and devoted.
Can seem reserved or withdrawn when it comes to expressing their feelings.
Instead of flowery words, they tend to show their love by showering their loved ones with their loyalty.
BUT WAIT!!!!
āThose born under the Virgo zodiac sign make for great parents and often tend to parent other children around their family as well.ā
Please just mop me upā¦Iām in tears š
Very super gently tagging everyone (sorry! Iām curious!): @optimisticgrey @dr4gonwriter @bladesingerlily @kcwriter-blog @baelthi @babydinosaur930 @starlightweave @asorceresswrites @whiskeyskin @astarioffsimpmain @arlynx @arcanearcherayz @toomanyfamiliars @tynithia @riddlerosehearts @purplemilk27 @artsywarden @rdekarios @cursed-nyxan @missfortunetherogue @bhaal-battle-beer-bard @judasiskariot @archduchessgortash @scoldingdarjeeling @fangedgrace @cuffmeinblack @ele-millennial-weirdo @aerin67 @purpleasters-inseptember @defira85 @gortashsrighthand @carnivaley @fireflyeyes @saylofwaterdeep @lucretiouswept @emmyandthetieflings @dykestelmane @mellybaggins @thecampjuicebox @faeriiefire @wasteful-sam @adrielmancy @dr-demi-bee @deianestormborn @susann-noir @cep-stories @tociminna (how I managed that many Iāll never know - if you see this youāre tagged as well!)
Thank you for the tags, @optimisticgrey @archduchessgortash @unovafarm @litsenn @gortashsrighthand and @riddlerosehearts!
In turn, gentle tags if you haven't done this yet go to the tag list plus a few others: @endermal @cinder-rellish181 @optimisticgrey @chaushaus @elceewunjo @spillingteanotpermitted @litsenn @theya-art @unovafarm @andromedaancunin @et-augury @grandninjamasterren @burnt-by-marigolds @vividiana @heartcrystal2000 @aristenfromwarsaw
Without knowing the other options, I'd say this is pretty fitting for Miss Fortune, although I would amend that rather than a foolish puppy love it is a jubilant love tempered by heavy past experiences. Sasha needs to be chosen every day, just as they need to choose their partner. A deliberate, hard-earned love that never comes easy but is worth the effort.
However, the first-time feeling is certainly fitting since their relationship with Astarion is the first healthy, well-adjusted, and free relationship they have (hang on there now, I know right now in my fic they're beautiful disasters still in their hurt/comfort cycle, but they will get to this point someday!!! I have promised a happy ending and I will deliver it dangit).
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Tagged by the ever adorable @cep-stories ā¦see her answer here
Fromā¦The price of power
And so I sat down to read of Netheril: an empire where arcanists ruled rather than idiot merchant princes, where mythallars bore whole cities into the heavens, and humankind rose at last to rival the lost wonders of Aryvandaar.
I had intended only to finish an assigned chapter before sleep claimed me. Instead I found myself reading until dawn, for there are few intoxicants more potent than wonder ā that somewhere, once, mortals had come within touching distance of the divine.
Tagging @archduchessgortash @gortashsrighthand @alliskit @sanguinescoven @missfortunetherogue @rdekarios and @lilhumanoid
I was tagged by @litsenn , @fireflyeyes , @cinder-rellish181 , @thesanguinesonnet , @bladesingerlily and @deianestormborn <3
QSAT was being a lil bitch with me and I was possessed by a dark Gortavia brainworm and Cassandra on a little honeypot mission.
"I do know how to disturb peace very well," he laughed as he drank from his cup and she mirrored the movement, keeping her eyes on her as the cup pushed against her lips. The red wine would stain her lips and coated her tongue in its aroma.
"You do strike me as the type."
It made him laugh, a rumbling one that came up from down inside of his lungs. It was not too hard to imagine how someone else would be charmed by him, she could see it. It was a shame for him that she was not that kind of person, he was the prey in the situation and she was the predator.
"Name is Rugan, can I get yours?"
"Cassandra."
Gently tagging @carnivaley , @dynamicducks , @toomanyfamiliars , @theendofanerror , @saylofwaterdeep , @asorceresswrites , @ele-millennial-weirdo , @arlynx , @unovafarm , @missfortunetherogue , @archduchessgortash , @doomedlamb , @wasteful-sam and a lil reverse tag for the sweethearts who tagged me.
What if your TAV/OC was an Origin Character and they could have evil endings? What would those endings be?
Was tagged literally two months and a day ago by the lovely @gortashsrighthand (see their post) and only now got a chance to give this the attention it deserved.
Gentle tags for @endermal @lilhumanoid @cinder-rellish181 @optimisticgrey @chaushaus @elceewunjo @spillingteanotpermitted @litsenn @theya-art @lucretiouswept @unovafarm @careful-l-bite @andromedaancunin @alwaysmauria @et-augury @grandninjamasterren @scoldingdarjeeling @carnivaley @bladesingerlily and an open tag to anyone else who didn't get a chance to do this on the first go-around!
Miss Fortune, The Pleasure Empress of Baldur's Gate
You know that the true currency of humanity is flesh and sin. You have always known this. With the right pleasures on offer, you can bring rulers to their knees, topple mercantile dynasties, maybe even start a war or two.
With the city at your beck and call, there is no sin too perverse, no desire too obscure. Everything, anything, and anyone is on offer. And while everyone is looking away, lost in the throes of their own escape, you're free to take whatever. you. wish.
And what of the poor fools who can't pay? Well...it's simple, really. You own them. Gambling dens, brothels, fighting rings, drug grottos...these places don't staff themselves. There are plenty of options to choose from to work off a few thousand gold. Too bad the interest rates are as steep as the stiletto heels you never leave your room without.
Evil ending for Miss Fortune would be perpetuating the cycle they were born into, where lives can be bought and sold and the highest bidder gets to decide what happens to them. Miss Fortune would either kill the Madam and take her spot, or she would offer them a position as her right-hand man.
To be clear, it would take an extraordinary amount of bad decisions and/or persuasion to get them to go down this path. The player would essentially have to manipulate MF into thinking they are loved and then break up with them in the cruelest way possible, thus crushing their budding conceptions that love is possible.
An evil ending Miss Fortune is a person who has completely detached themselves from their emotional self and thinks only in terms of the physical. Material goods, hedonistic delights, etc.
Thank you @hellethil for the tag! I really enjoyed learning a bit more about your girl. Sheās definitely ready for many fics!
Hereās the relatively (mostly) spoiler-free info on Rinā¦
Basics
Name: Rinoah Merriweather
Alias: Rin (everyone), Rinnie (childhood friends), Babygirl/Clever Cat (mother), Freckles (Karlach), Ridiculous Bard (Astarion, earlier), Love/Kitten/Madwoman/Goddess of Light and Mischief/*redacted sappy elvish things* (Astarion, later), Nora/Rina/Noah/Roa (various criminal associates).
Background: Urchin
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bi/Pan
Pronouns: She/Her
Other
Family: Rin is the only child of Claudia and Adrian Merriweather. Her parents were both human, so she was a surprise. They were travelling bards, and Rin spent her early childhood on the road with their troupe. When she was about nine, they moved to Baldurās Gate so that Rin could attend school. Thatās were things went sideways - Claudia died of a fever, her father fell to alcoholism, and she essentially raised herself on the streets.
Birthplace: A random little town somewhere on the road, at the midnight between one year and the next.
Phobias/Fears: Quite a few. But the canon Tav fear that started this whole story is her first: Sheās afraid of krakens.
Hobbies: Music, stories, naps, reading (later), learning new things, generalised chaos, messing with the fabric of reality.
Morals
Alignment: (Very) Chaotic Good.
Flaws: She can be very impulsive. She is terrible at taking her own (usually excellent) advice. She under-estimates her value to others. She is deeply insecure and quite anxious, beneath the act of bardic confidence. She is, occasionally, destructive on a massive scale.
Virtues: She loves easily. She can be very insightful (when it comes to other people). She is kind. She viciously defends the people she cares about. She is clever, mostly. She is wise, sometimes. She is brave.
This or That
I made myself pick a side for each, rather than go for the middle. Iād love to know whether my readers would agree!
Introvert/Extrovert
Organised/Disorganised
Closed-Minded/Open-Minded
Calm/Anxious
Disagreeable/Agreeable
Patient/Impatient
Outspoken/Reserved
Leader/Follower
Empathetic/Apathetic
Optimist/Pessimist
Traditional/Modern
Hard Working/Lazy
No pressure tags! Or anyone join in! @missfortunetherogue @thepickledmermaid @greiiliss @davenswitcher
Read the full second part of "The Journey Home" on AO3
Prev installments: Miss Fortune POV
Baldur's Gate couldn't be but a few days' creaky-kneed hikes away. Which meant that Sorcerous Sundries was dangling just out of Gale of Waterdeep's weave-worn hands. So close he could practically smell the unparalleled odor of time-worn parchment and expensive ink, could envision the beckoning tendrils of incense smoke and feel the weightāat once inviting and imposingāof hard-earned knowledge in his grip.
And yetā¦he was still far enough away that those same hands could not cease their impuissant fidgeting.
He could only hope whatever knowledge awaited him was worth the hurdles he would no doubt be required to jump to obtain it. It was Tara herself who often reminded Gale of the old adage that curiosity killed the cat, but he'd always counted on his brilliance and quick wits to circumvent the inevitable.
For what greater purpose was there beyond the pursuit of knowledge no matter the cost? If his life became forfeit over a fact or scrap of skill, well, it meant he had grown careless and likely deserved what he got.
One of his hands rose, subconsciously tapping the scar-ravaged skin over where the orb sat, dormant yet no less malignant. In response, its hunger gnawed at the cage Elminster placed around it.
"Gale? Are you well?" Wyll questioned from his narrow bed in their shared inn room.
The Blade's smoked hickory voice snapped the wizard from his daze, a bilious bubble rising up his throat at the sight of what was once a puff of phosphorescent mossāa spell component he never left home withoutānow just spongy strands strewn about the thick quilt he sat on.
"Mystra's Mantle, would you look at this mess!" Gale muttered, easing himself up to salvage his component from the bedspread. He doubted he'd get more than a flicker if he attempted a Light spell with these.
"Looks like you need to find a less destructive way to keep your handsāand mindāoccupied, friend," Wyll urged with a chuckle.
Had the suggestion come from anyone else, Gale might have interpreted it to be a flirtation, perhaps even an invitation. But Wyll's eyes lacked so much as a hint of desire. Indeed, he had not so much as cracked an eye open when he suggested it, his cornrowed head still resting on his arms to keep his horns from puncturing the pillow. Which was perfectly amenable, Gale assured himself. Wyll was handsome and sweet, surely, but Gale had no desire to position himself in an an acute angle of a love triangle with Karlach.
"Quite right you are," Gale chuckled instead. "Perhaps a jaunty stroll to clear my mind."
Before the toe of his soft-soled slipper so much as padded onto the bottom step to the inn's ground floor, the scent of home caressed his cheek. The unmistakable tang of tamarind filled the air, and Gale's first thought was to question what magic the cook had cast to conjure fresh quipper fish this far inland when an army was obfuscating the trade routes.
But his mouth watered anyhow at the thought of crisp battered filets soaked in Waterdeep's renowned and rich Hundur sauce, and he could not stop his feet from taking him to the threshold of the kitchen.
Gale also could not contain his surprised hum when instead of billowing clouds of flour and heating oil he found the father and daughter duo cubing pork and swirling rice in a sieve, milky-white water running into a shallow pan they would indubitably use to dry the excess starch into a powder for thickening future soups. A pan full of tamarind simmered softly, the umber skins already popping open to reveal the pods of flavorful pulp inside.
Gale's stomach rumbled, and his mind sharpened.
"May I inquire as to what delightful dish you fine cooks are preparing?"
Although Gale's voice was bright and cheerful it still caused the cooks to jump in surprise.
"I thought perchance a Hundur sauce, but I have never seen it served with pork, and the rice has me stumped, for my next guess would have been tamarind noodle stir fry," he offered helpfully, hoping to shuck open their clamshell shyness.
"Oh! Haha, you gave us a right fright, Saer," the daughter laughed huskily, one deft hand shifting the tamarind off the flame in nearly the same instant as her other hand slammed an onion onto a cutting board, causing her long, flame-colored braid to slither along her back.
"I trust you will accept my humblest apologies! I caught a scent of the city of splendors and like a person possessed by the spirit of homesickness my feet carried me to your threshold before I knew what I was doing."
"No apologies necessary," the older gentleman waved him off. "No Hundur sauce tonight; it's been ages since we've been able to get our hands on fresh fish. Nay, we're making a dish we learned from a Korinnian traveler called Sour-Broth Stew."
Gale's mind spun in several directions at once: inquisitive about the dish itself and the story it may have come with; hopeful that this could be the distraction he sought; excited by the thought of helping introduce his companions to something new.
When he made no move to leave, the gentleman's smile stretched into a tight grin that left his eyes colder than an unlit stove on a winter morning. The smile of someone who had been in customer service far too long and realized that sometimes the best way to get someone to leave him alone was to give in to whatever strange inclinations they had.
"I don't suppose you'd like to learn how the dish is made, Saer?" the gentleman threw out, voice strained.
"Nothing could delight me more!" Gale jumped in, scarcely waiting for him to finish. He wasn't unsympathetic to the man's attitude; he was just more certain that his skills with a paring knife would win him over by the end. "But I am well aware that the kitchen is no place for the idle. If you've a spare knife, I will be your most humble pupil for the evening."
Father and daughter exchanged glances, their eyes lingering in a silent conversation that went on long enough that Gale's fingers reached back into his pocket to pick at the severed strands of phosphorescent moss he had massacred earlier. But just as he thought to walk back his offer the daughter shrugged, and the father returned his attention to the brooch on Gale's purple tunic.
"My youngest fell ill so we're short-handed anyhow." The man nodded to the apron hanging behind him, his ginger bun bobbing at the back of his head.
"I assure you, you will not regret this!" Gale crowed as he tied the apron. Its strings were slightly slick with the oil of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of fingerprints.
"I don't say this to be braggadocious, but I have been making mouthwatering meals out of ever-dwindling rations for my companions the past couple of moons and have accomplished the nigh-insurmountable task of keeping their various and sundry appetites satisfied," he doubled down as he fished a hair tie from his other pocket and kneaded his hair into a bun to mimic the man's.
While his professors at Blackstaff Academy might argue that Gale's prodigious mind was wasted in the kitchen, in this moment living up to one's potential felt as trivial as a pop quiz on cantrips. Although his mind still ran through the endless possibilities of the netherbrain crown's precise taxonomy, the calculations grew less intrusive as the former archmage lost himself in the humble pursuit of achieving culinary perfection.
Between slivers of chopped onion toppling behind his knife and the sting of pungent garlic in his nose, Gale felt the twinge of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Instead of hedging bets on which tomes he could find at Sorcerous Sundries, the wizard instead focused on the sizzle of cubed pork searing in a tall pot, in the starchy aroma of rice steaming in a clay pot on the back burner, the cloying tang of tamarind being squeezed into a wooden bowl.
The cooks neither offered up a tale of the Korrinnian traveler nor admonishments of Gale's efforts, instead dancing around him and one another in a domestic synchronization only earned by years of repeating the same steps until it rivaled the unconscious ease of breathing.
Occasionally, the father barked out an instruction for Gale, which the wizard, sponge-like and sweaty-browed, soaked up. His catalog-like mind documented each step of the dish's preparation in minute detail until he was certain he would be able to recreate it at will from the comforts of his tower's kitchen.
As predicted, by the time the Sour-Broth Stew had bubbled its last on the stove, the cooks thanked Gale for his efforts and gave him the honor of ladling out the first bowls for himself and his friends. When he set down the last two bowls in front of Halsin and himself, polychromatic pork collagen shimmering like Dancing Lights on the stew's surface, the wizard felt positively eupeptic.
Karlach had already inhaled the entire contents of her bowl, stray grains of rice left sizzling on her chin while she instead stared longingly at Astarion's portion. The vampire pushed the contents around with perfunctory passes of his spoon, his crimson gaze fixed longingly on Miss Fortune's neck. It was sheer luck that none of the small-town folk had tried to burn the inn down around Astarion or stake him in the night, for the vampire made no secret of his hunger for his lover's blood.
"You know, Gale, we've the coin to pay for room and board," Miss Fortune teased between dainty bites of stew. "You didn't have to indenture yourself to the cooks to earn us dinner."
"You should have seen him before," Wyll crooned before Gale could reply for himself. "Tearing through his spell components like a bored student stuck at a desk writing his letters. The man needed something to do."
"That was one element of the matter, yes," Gale offered with a warm smile. "But I am of a mind to learn whenever the opportunity presents itself, and when I smelled the tangy tamarind and learned the cooks were preparing a traditional Korinnianā"
"Spare us the lecture, wizard," Astarion drawled, a clawed hand catching Miss Fortune by the chin and turning them his way for an immodest kiss that left little of their private life to the imagination. A dull ache twisted in his chest to watch them, and although Gale felt certain it was not jealousy he could not pinpoint what it was.
There would be time to itemize those emotions later, in the comforting darkness of his room. It was time to taste the fruits of his labor. Blowing lightly on the spoon, Gale gingerly pressed his lips to the cube of pork ensconced upon the utensil before taking a bite. An explosion of flavorāsweet, savory, sour, umamiāset fireworks off in his brain. This dish was precisely the distraction he needed right now, and the wizard was thankful to have a full bowl before him.
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Thanks so much for the tag @litsenn and @thesanguinesonnet!! This is such a fun one and I loved both of your posts~
Reimagine your OC as a music artist! Recast them as a real musician - who would they be? Which era, which genre, which iconic album covers and messy tabloid moments? Or invent their music career from scratch - stage name, sound, aesthetic, lyrics, the works. Bonus questions: What's their biggest hit about? What are they like on stage vs in interviews? Do they have a rival? What do the fans call themselves?
lol @ my photomode again (the angle. the expression. why did i not add any like blood or smoke or lights or something what are we DOING here) but whateverrrr y'all get it ok
One thing about Jamie is that they canonically wish they could've been a bard! I mentioned once that Jamie's first boyfriend was a tiefling named Sorrow Deepcut... They were drawn to him primarily because he was an edgy self-taught bard making weepy tunes on a stolen lyre that he painted street-art-style. This is not based on any personal experience of mine IRL haha I swear š trust me
ANYWAY. Jamie never learned an instrument, but they've always been drawn to music, especially drums. In one of the many AUs in my head, Jamie's pact with Mephistopheles actually empowers their music. They can use their blood to forge drumsticks (like canon Jamie can with blades/lockpicks/whatever) that are perpetually in sync with Jamie's will, basically an extension of Jamie. Whatever Jamie wants, whatever they feel as they play, the sticks will do, and they'll do it quicker than Jamie can even really think. That makes them an incredible, fast, and soulful drummer who is renowned for a raw, no-holds-barred sound.
There's also some showmanship to them, although they'd deny it if you asked. Their signature move is closing out every show by throwing their sticks above their head and turning them back into blood, drenching themself with it and laughing like a freak. You can't help but pay attention to that, whether you're disgusted, excited, enticed... You're watching, you're listening, you're in the moment with Jamie.
[imagine a really cool VP here that I do not have the skills to make lmao]
Most of their music would be about typical Jamie themes: fighting the Flaming Fist, blood, reclaiming your agency, anarchy, loving your friends, snacks, growing up all alone and scared, etc. Most people would be scandalized, but Jamie would be extremely fucking popular in the Undercity and with disaffected Lower City and Outer City youth. Baldurian teens are consistently catching hell from their parents for sneaking out at night to venture into the Undercity for Jamie's shows lol
In my current playthrough, a Jamie-as-Durge AU, I've multiclassed them as a College of Blood Bard and Mephistopheles Warlock (thank you, modders!). They use a hand drum, and some of the Bard dialogue lines really are perfect for them.
Also: Post-BG3 they'd write exactly one (1) love song about Astarion. It would be heartfelt, but they'd also make it intentionally super cringey, totally over the top, just to mortify him/make him laugh. (They wouldn't play it publicly - they don't want to actually embarrass him in front of people, dw)
Speaking of Astarion, he probably comes to a handful of Jamie's shows, but he mostly prefers to do his own thing in the evenings and then listen to them tell him all about it later. My HC (or maybe this is canon?) is that elves and vampires have a powerful sense of hearing, and Astarion being both of those can hear way too well so Jamie's screamy punk drums are a bit much for him lol. He does, however, enjoy the part where they melt their blood-drumsticks all over themself... but he can see (and taste) their blood anytime, darling, there's no reason to force himself into a shoddy tavern packed with the sweaty public and listen to that racket š š» (He genuinely loves/respects Jamie but their music is stylistically Not His Preference lol. Jamie understands this.)
In any AU, modern or not, Jamie Cross in interviews is literally just regular Jamie Cross. There is only one way to be Jamie, and Jamie's gonna be that way every single time. Good luck getting any kind of useful answers to your questions. I can't stop picturing them in Kurt Cobain's CORPORATE MAGAZINES STILL SUCK t-shirt.
Okay and finally, here's Jamie's playlist! Some of it is music they would make (in a modern AU I guess), some of it is music they would like, and some of it is just stuff that makes me think of them/their story. A band with Jamie as the drummer/leader would probably end up sounding a lot like FIDLAR if I had to pick one band (FIDLAR's vocalist is also Jamie's voiceclaim lol so)
Don't think I forgot about Venerea. My girl is giving a DeathbyRomy/Poppy/ZAND/Hole combo with a side of Amy Winehouse, which I desperately want to see. Here's her playlist also.
tysm if you read all the way through! Tagging anyone who wants to join <3
especially (but still gently) tagging @gloura and @riddlerosehearts since I know you've got bards! Elenion is canonically a celebrity āļø and also @bladesingerlily and @optimisticgrey - I'm so curious about Lily and Celeste as musicians!
Thank you so much @the-red-drow for the tag š¤Your VP for this game is phenomenal!
This one is purely self indulgent and can steer into NSFW territory depending on where you go with it. Did your TavDurge make the ...'deal' with Haarlep? (on a meta level, I'm not sure I ever could say no to it, making fun of Raphael is always appreciated).
And even if they didn't - think about it for a moment and, just like them looking just slightly different to Raphael, design Haarlep using your OCs form. Put them side by side with your blorbo to show the minuscule differences. Have fun, go wild.
Ellith shamelessly played Haarlep's game and gladly accepted the deal. What the incubus didn't know, was that Ellith had already delt with such creatures before and got some of their powers from a former deal a succubus.
šNSFW belowš
El is all but impressed by Haarlep, and they plan to find him post game events.
Now, what they're going to do when they'll meet again remains to be seen...
After all, Ellith finds themself very attractive. And they're not afraid of playing with devils.
Maybe there's more power to get from Haarlep, or at least, some fun.
As for Astarion, he isn't sure about the whole "playing with devils" thingy, but somewhere in his wet dreams, things are happening...
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