This Is Genuinely What I Imagined In My Brain When I Wrote Them All Getting Frisky On One Very Small

this is genuinely what i imagined in my brain when i wrote them all getting frisky on one very small couch……

art challenge: draw your/your ocs fireteam like this

does the painfully small first crota fireteam fandom have like a glossary of headcanons. what mass delusions can we all agree on

trying to finish some destiny wips ive been working on for ages and this is genuinely one of my favorite drifteris snippets ive ever written. maybe perhaps i will Finish It

Eris Morn is not a woman who wishes for pity. Sympathy makes her ache nearly as bad as any physical ill she’d suffered; more foreign in her than her own three eyes. The tentative, placating words of others do nothing to put her at ease. Words alone cannot bring back anything she’d lost, sacrificed, or gambled away of her own free will, after all. She isn’t fond of them in the slightest.

The only balm capable of soothing her is a strange one, made from unknown ingredients and applied in a thick layer whether Eris likes it or not. It stings, seeping into her skin, penetrating her down to the marrow each time. He can’t help being obnoxious, she’s aware, it’s simply in his nature. An ointment of his own to rub over the wounds of being known. As much as she’d like to say she knows the Drifter, she doesn’t. Eris has no weapons or words capable of piercing through that thick, cold skin, but she doesn’t necessarily mind it.

Whatever truth lies buried under the Drifter is inconsequential to her. She knows his hands, each scar and callous and imperfection; his voice, the cadence and lilt of it, the way he clips the ending clean off of his words and slurs them into a drawl. She knows that he fiddles with his jade pendant when he’s nervous, upset, frustrated, thinking hard, or holding back excitement. She knows his nicknames for her; Moondust when he’s trying to be romantic, Three-Eyes when he’s trying to push her buttons. Eris knows enough about the Drifter to keep her curiosity sated, for now.

The Drifter’s Gambit is one thing Eris has never bothered to study much. Why should she invest her time learning the ropes of a simple game meant for trigger-happy Guardians to shed the blood of aliens and their own? How could Eris hope to participate while she had nothing but an Ahamkara bone in hand and Stasis replacing her Light? Why was she pacing around the Drifter’s alleyway, eyes darting impatiently from the open grate to the swirling bank of motes to the jade coin discarded on the table? More questions with answers that Eris will never know.

baldur’s gate making me mentally ill specifically shadowheart and astarion.

something something willing loss as a tenet of sharran faith and what better tribute to the dark lady than shadowheart sacrificing her lifeblood to a creature of the darkness stripped of his humanity and free will, claiming a lost soul condemned to life in darkness as her own and nourishing him in shar’s name etc etc

maybe after some time it’s not about losing her blood and accepting the pain and exhaustion as a sort of dedication fast but a desire to give instead, to give astarion what he needs in every capacity (blood, kindness, a listening ear, protection, agency, etc) to the point where her religious dedication to shar pales in comparison to his whole-hearted devotion.

writing eris and crow is so soothing… eris deserves to feel needed and crow deserves to be babied a little. it’s a win-win

Fem Toland (w/ Eris Morn cameo)... if you even care...