Spells & Starfire

Wizard Kisser/Elf Enjoyer/Shameless Duke Wyll supporter

[ginateeth]

MystraBot 4.2

Rating: Explicit 18+ Pairings: Gale/MystraBot

Summary: Heartbroken with an unquiet mind, Gale Dekarious uses a blend of magic and tech to build himself the perfect girlfriend who can't ever leave him. Please note: This is a not a kind story. I was heavily influenced by Paul Verhoeven's RoboCop, BuffyBot, and Weird Science.

OneShot Word Count: 4,360 Full fic on AO3 Custom work skin created by @dramatiquechipmunk

Tags and continuation of sample below.

Bright light returns. She stands on a low reinforced platform in the center of the workshop, posture perfect, the faint Weave-veins beneath her skin catching the glow of the floating orbs. “Good evening, Gale of Waterdeep.” Two heat signatures register behind her. One is Gale. The other is unfamiliar. She detects elevated ethanol traces on Gale’s breath. Approximate blood alcohol: 0.08–0.09%. “Fuck me, Dekarios,” the tiefling says, circling her slowly. “The resemblance challenges credulity. And she’s not a prefab that you backdoored?” Gale’s hand settles at the small of her back, fingers splayed. “She’s nearly one hundred percent Dekarios-derived. I splurged on some Gamate Luxe behavioral tweaks. Now that has been quite the journey, jailbreaking the restrictions.” His voice carries pride as he continues. “Full integration. Every system responsive. The dermal layer is nigh indistinguishable from living tissue. And the mucosal matrix—” He laughs once, a little self-conscious. “Well. It’s functional, I assure you.” MystraBot notices Gale’s cheeks darken and engages a sequence to match his blush. The tiefling feeds his thumb into her mouth without warning, triggering her reflexive suction module. Gale’s fingers tense against her back.

[hell-alka]

"We will find peace everywhere if we are together"💫

соmm

[ym523]

Random kiss 💋 - Models: doublenyl

[ym523]

Full video: X | Reddit | Bluesky

[lenorevp]

Good Boy | LenoreVP_Art

Good Boy by LenoreVP_Art on Patreon. Join LenoreVP_Art's community for exclusive content and updates.

4K version available on my Patreon

[optimisticgrey]

Self-indulgent Sunday

Joined by a super cute burning Celeste emote today 😁

While I was off touching metaphorical grass, I collected tags from @bladesingerlily (Welcome back! 😘), @lucretiouswept @defira85 @cursed-nyxan @missfortunetherogue @litsenn @faeriiefire @unovafarm @shandoratheexplorer @nw39 @ele-millennial-weirdo and @alleiramagic. Please ping me if I missed anyone!

Fire is the theme today, so let's burn some shit down.

Warning for absolutely uncensored use of fire magic and general durgeness.

And, because a new Maphra cover is out, allow me to shamelessly use it for this Sunday's WIP.

It was a strange period of my life, if I am being entirely honest.

Fire had always lived within me. My magic was volatile by nature, flames curled around my heartbeat as naturally as blood through my veins, and it had never troubled me. I enjoyed it, if anything. There was a simple satisfaction in coaxing a fire to life in a cold stove, in filling an empty hearth with warmth at the flick of my fingers.

And if fire escaped where it ought not, it obeyed me just as readily. A lantern overturned at the docks, a spark caught by dry timber, a careless accident threatening to become a tragedy—I could command the flames into submission until enough water arrived to finish the work.

It is as natural to me as breathing.

Unfortunately, at that age, I also possessed a temper to rival any blaze.

For the first time in my life, I was truly free.

I had coin in my purse, no one watching over my shoulder, and a city sprawling endlessly before me. I indulged enthusiastically in all of it: good food, good wine, and whatever delightful company my gold could purchase. Freedom suited me perhaps a little too well.

It made me arrogant.

I knew I was powerful, and worse, I enjoyed knowing it.

So when someone wronged me, when they mistook politeness for encouragement and persisted after being told no, my patience often ran short. My anger flared quickly, and occasionally quite literally. Nothing serious, mind you. Usually. A scorched sleeve. A blistered hand. A brief lesson delivered through skin made uncomfortably aware of just how hot a sorceress could become when irritated.

I am not proud of it.

At least, not anymore.

And then there was the house.

To this day, I maintain that burning down an entire residence was a somewhat disproportionate response to the circumstances.

Still, it was a glorious night.

No pressure tags for: @ratchsellsfornax (BEHOLD: BURNING KELL EMOTE!😂) @ceremorph0sis @alrendriablaze @mellybaggins @perpetualmaladaptivedaydream @should-be-persephone @dr4gonwriter @doomedlamb @wasteful-sam @babydinosaur930 @thepalelawyer @arlynx (back from shadowban prison!) @echoechowhiskey @purpleasters-inseptember @thelittlewolverine @thepickledmermaid @dutifullylazybread

[mercymaker]

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 ⛈️🪻💜

This took me much longer than I expected, but it was a lot of fun to do! I saw this template a while back and last night felt like making it for my beloved Mal.

I thought it could be a fun little thing to do with OCs as a tag game here!

zero pressure tags, as always: @goodgirlgonebard @thepalelawyer @tieflingsorcerer @wasteful-sam @bg3screenshotdump @scoldingdarjeeling @kimberbohwrites @jourrdane @wyllravengards @starlit-serpent @faeriiefire @fable2 @alliskit @loserscardigan @vixstarria @maeryls-journal @gloura @faunsnoctuary @dragonsbone @tragedybunny @ejoym @aesfocus @des-no9 @hawke @communistfries @vspin @optimisticgrey

[yelenhol]

🪻☁️

[cryptid-lounge]

There are sacrifices she is willing to make

[arlynx]

And then there was you

[faeriiefire]

& my fav solo shot from today 💕

[wasteful-sam]

Tag game: ten people you'd like to know better

Thank you so much for the tags @deianestormborn and @thesanguinesonnet <333

Last song: Liar's tongue by Apate. And a lot of Thornhill (throwing Thornhill out there in hopes someone loves it as much as me xD)

Current obsession: Strawberries! I eat half a kilo almost every day 😅

Currently reading: Oh, nothing consistant rn unfirtunately, I have to read a lot for work. :(( But I've just read a wonderful "Ballad of the summer child, autumn wind and december snow " by @bhaal-battle-beer-bard and I can't recommend it enough, it is heartbreaking!

Currently working on: My smutfic 😅 it's haard (yes, I know what I did there).

Currently wearing: Dark-blue bathrobe (it's 11 pm)

Last search: liquidity heatmap june 10 (don't ask, it's for my boring ass job xD)

Favorite flower: Uhh... I don't really like flowers 😅 I mean, they are pretty and I appreciate nature, but I never had a flower where I was like "damn, this one's so pretty, I'll even learn it's name xD"

Oki, no-pressure tags to newever mooties: @theya-art @shkarpetkamax @smokepotgivetop @faeriiefire @scoldingdarjeeling @carnivaley @facetheworldbitch @fangedgrace @bladesingerlily @gortashsrighthand

AND ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO PARTICIPATE!

[optimisticgrey]

On Wednesday, we wip!

picking up late tags from @archduchessgortash and @onlytavs and unoreversed by @unovafarm @cursed-nyxan as well as WIP vp tags from @perpetualmaladaptivedaydream @lucretiouswept @wasteful-sam and @alstromeri-a !

Thank you for thinking of me, lovelies 🫶 Consider yourself unoreverse tagged!

Free time is limited right now, so allow me to combine writing and VP WIPs.

(Presenting this as a VP WIP after being tagged by the goddess of VP herself is kind of ironic. I am aware.)

We were drunk on mulled wine, laughter, and love.

Not merely intoxicated, but drunk in the deeper sense of the word—so saturated with happiness that the world itself seemed softened around the edges. Life felt impossibly sweet then, rich with wonder and possibility, and I had the extraordinary privilege of sharing it with two people I loved beyond reason.

Looking back, I do not think I appreciated how rare such moments truly are.

We wandered through Waterdeep with no destination in mind, hands constantly finding one another, kisses stolen between conversations, a bottle of mead passed back and forth whenever one of us remembered we were carrying it. Around us, the city blazed with life. Lanterns hung above the streets like captured stars, music drifted from open tavern doors and merchants shouted over one another while children darted between crowds with sticky fingers and sugar-coated smiles.

And the smell.

Gods, the smell.

Only Waterdeep can somehow fit half the known world into a single street and make it fragrant. Roasted chestnuts and spiced apples mingled with evergold baklahva, monkey balls, niangao, grilled fish, candied nuts, fresh bread, snowbread, mulled wine, and a dozen other delicacies whose names I never learned because I was too busy eating them.

Lucia spotted something sweet being sold from a nearby stall and immediately declared it essential. Aron disagreed, or perhaps he merely wished to continue walking. I cannot remember. What I do remember is their good-natured argument beginning beside me while I laughed and surrendered Aron's hand.

The sensation arrived so suddenly it cut through wine and merriment alike. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, my smile faded and I stopped walking.

At first, I could not identify why. Only that something felt wrong. Not dangerous, not exactly, but familiar in the way old scars ache before rain.

I felt watched.

The sensation was unmistakable—as though someone's gaze had settled between my shoulder blades with enough weight to become physical. So immediate, so intense, that I turned before I consciously decided to do so.

The crowd moved around me in a blur of color and motion. Hundreds of faces, laughter, lanternlight swirled in music.

Yet my eyes passed over all of it.

Searching, seeking and finding. Across the street stood a small tent. Bright purple. Closed. Entirely unremarkable.

And yet the moment I saw it, something deep inside me tightened.

There was a pull. Not curiosity, not quite, but something stranger. Recognition without memory. A form of certainty without understanding.

I stared at the tent and felt the world around me recede. The music grew distant, the voices blurred and even Lucia and Aron seemed suddenly far away.

I vaguely remember one of them speaking to me, perhaps both. I recall myself nodding in response to something, agreeing automatically while my attention remained fixed entirely upon that impossible little tent, as I was already moving.

Crossing the street without thought, drawn forward by something I could neither name nor resist.

The tent stood waiting and before I could question my own actions, the entrance flap opened. Not by wind or a visible hands, it simply opened and I stepped inside.

The world vanished, the cacophony of sound and smell behind me fell away in an instant.

Cedarwood struck me first. Not the pleasant trace of it one finds in wardrobes or carved furniture, but something dense and overwhelming, thick enough to feel tangible. Then anise. Cinnamon. And smoke. And Incense. Dozens of scents layered atop one another until the air itself seemed alive.

I drew a breath and immediately regretted it.

The fragrance flooded my lungs so completely that my chest seized. My head spun, the floor shifting beneath my feet as though I had stepped onto the deck of a ship caught in rough waters. Hands settled on my shoulders—gentle, unexpectedly strong—and before I fully understood what was happening, I found myself guided into an impossibly soft chair.

The tent's interior was dimly lit, shadows dancing across richly colored fabrics that concealed every visible wall. Candles flickered from impossible corners, their flames strangely steady despite the absence of any obvious structure holding the tent upright. The scents lingered heavily in the air, bordering on suffocating.

"Good, good. Here you are, child."

The voice emerged from somewhere beyond the haze clouding my thoughts. Thinking had become unexpectedly difficult. Each thought felt slow, dragged through molasses.

"So kind of you to stop by. So very kind."

An old woman shuffled into view, leaning heavily upon a walking stick fashioned from twisted wood, its grain curling upon itself like frozen smoke. Her robe was surprisingly simple—a plain purple garment devoid of embroidery, jewelry, or ornamentation. It contrasted sharply with the extravagant surroundings.

Her hair caught my attention immediately. Far too red. Not dyed red or vibrant red, but the sort of red that seemed fundamentally unwilling to acknowledge age.

She lowered herself into the chair opposite mine and before I could react, my hands were in hers. I never saw her reach for them. One moment they rested in my lap, the next, she was turning them over beneath the candlelight, tracing the lines of my palms with weathered fingers.

"What do you—"

"Ah." The old woman cackled softly. "Ah, yes."

Her fingers stilled. A delighted smile spread across her face—the smile of someone finding exactly what they expected. It unsettled me more than anything else in that tent.

"Interesting."

"What is?"

"Something is coming." She tilted her head. "Not a person. A mind." Her thumb brushed across my palm. "There is a weight waiting for you. A very large one."

I laughed nervously. "I suspect that describes most people's futures."

"Oh, no." She sounded genuinely amused. "This one is different."

For the first time, she looked up. Her eyes were startlingly clear. Clear enough to make me wonder if she had ever truly been old at all.

"It will change the direction of your life," she added quietly. "And the lives of many others besides."

The smile faded slightly.

"I see difficult choices. The sort that leave scars regardless of which path is chosen."

Something cold settled in my stomach.

The old woman continued studying me. "Two influences." She frowned. "No. Not influences." Her eyes narrowed. "Two men, perhaps." The words sounded uncertain, as though she disliked them. "They are important." A pause. "Powerful in their own ways." Another pause. "And very different from one another. A man and an elf."

I swallowed. She seemed not to notice.

"Neither will walk your path for you. They cannot." Her grip tightened slightly around my hands. "But both will change it."

The silence stretched as she studied my hands.

Finally, the old woman released them.

"Be careful whom you allow to guide you, child."

I rubbed my palms automatically. "I thought you just said they couldn't."

A crooked smile returned to her face. "People have a remarkable talent for convincing themselves that their choices were entirely their own."

For a moment, neither of us spoke, my hands still caught in her grip.

"Neither of those men — nor your father — can choose for you," she laughed as if I had told the funniest story.

"Oh, but that is tomorrow's problem." She waved a dismissive hand. "Tonight is for mulled wine, bad decisions, and whatever handsome fools are currently wondering where you've wandered off to."

I blinked — and found myself outside.

The noise hit me first, music and laughter and the warm chaos of a city celebrating itself. Then the smells. Then Lucia's voice, sharp with relief, and Aron's somewhere close behind her, both of them calling my name through the crowd.

Show us what you are working on!

@doomedlamb @lutethebodies @ann-bg3-lol @anacdoce @litsenn @dynamicducks @thepalelawyer @alliskit @alrendriablaze @grandninjamasterren @elandra-beltharys @missfortunetherogue @theya-art @bloodsol94 @saintsandsorcery @defira85 @cinder-rellish181 @starlit-serpent

[arcanearcherayz]

On the docks, he's faced with a choice.

Give the crown to Mystra or Take godhood for himself

[perpetualmaladaptivedaydream]

Aoife has a habit of picking up stray and wounded animals. Here she is with her favorite three 💙💜

[perpetualmaladaptivedaydream]

I’m 100% convinced Ellie finds books and tosses them to Gale whether or not he’s ready to catch them. (Also, whether or not they’re useful)

“Hey, Gale…”

“Wh-THWACK!”

[perpetualmaladaptivedaydream]

Was an image I was going to use for part of Ellie’s story, then realized it wouldn’t fit in her timeline. So now it’s just a sweet, tender picture I can post of them for no reason 🥰

Full on Bsky 🦋