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littjara-mirrorlake · 6 months ago

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The Color of Hope: Ambition, Necromancy, and Black Mana

Black is one of the most misunderstood colors in Magic: the Gathering, not least because it appears on the surface to be so straightforward. Look at the most iconic black cards of Magic and you'll see deals with demons, necromancy, mass destruction and cruelty and suffering–the trappings of classic fantasy evil. Even the color's symbol itself is a skull, a universal signifier of death and danger.

And in early Magic that seemed to be all it was. White was the color of Fantasy Good, black was the color of Fantasy Evil, and the rest of the colors were... fire magic? Elves? Whatever odd but intriguing skeleton affairs are implied by Time Walk?

Gradually, though, Magic deepened as both a game and a storytelling medium. The color pie grew into itself as a system of complementary philosophies, archetypes whose associated aesthetics were only part of the full picture. Their arrangement around the wheel, below, is highly deliberate; neighboring colors are said to be allies with a high degree of philosophical and mechanical overlap, while colors on opposite sides of the pie are known as enemies, more likely to disagree on fundamental levels.

Black stopped merely representing capital E Evil and became the color of striving for power; unlike its peers, black felt that nothing, least of all morality, could prevent it from seizing what it wanted. Mark Rosewater's 2015 article about black emphasized the color's focus on the self:

"Black's philosophy is very simple: There's no one better suited to look after your own interests than you... Many costs require the sacrifice of others for your own advancement. Because it puts itself first, black is always willing to make this trade. The weak must fall for the strong to thrive." -Mark Rosewater

At its worst, black is an exploitative, amoral color that prioritizes itself at the expense of all others, allowing the "weak" to fall and scorning the very idea of compassion. Rosewater writes that black is "always willing" to trade others for itself. And these can certainly be parts of black's philosophy, when taken to its worst possible extremes, but they're far from the entire story.

Over time, Magic's outlook on black gained nuance. Magic story introduced protagonists like the necromancer Liliana Vess, whose craving for immortality, seemingly exploitative nature, and demonic deals called back to the oldest portrayals of black–and yet she was not one-dimensionally evil. She underwent character development over the years, learning the value of reclaiming herself and standing beside others, and at no point did she become any less mono-black for it. Remember her; we will come back to Liliana and her story later.

In addition to the usual death and decay, black cards began to feature a theme of relentless devotion. On the plane of Eldraine where each color represents a virtue, black's is persistence, explicitly as important as any other color. On the plane of Ikoria, the love between bonder and beast pulls Winota back from the brink of death. Wherever this Oathsworn Vampire printing is set, its flavor text is quintessentially black. It's the same self-driven attitude as before, but cast in a different light: black is nothing if not persistent when it's got its heart set on something (or someone) it cares about. Nothing, least of all the grave, will keep it down. After all, black will always come back for its own.

These newer cards uncovered the true face of black as a color capable of both great love and harm (sometimes even the latter for the sake of the former), and suggested a tantalizing new thread: perhaps putting yourself and yours first isn't all that bad, necessarily. Black is a deeply protective color; it says you don't just have to accept what you're handed, it's okay even to be furious about it (hello, ally color red), but let that galvanize you to do something about it.

Vraska, a gorgon who faces extreme discrimination on her home plane of Ravnica, triumphs by reclaiming herself, gorgon powers and all–and even more radically, loving herself. She displays traits often considered the purview of white and green, such as a love of home and a drive to elevate the oppressed, but they are all filtered through the lens of her black alignment. Vraska staunchly refuses to deny herself or her people, the Golgari Swarm, of their value. Nor does she allow law or propriety to prevent her from championing them by any means necessary–even if that means cold-blooded murder, or aligning herself with a villain like the Planeswalker Nicol Bolas.

"[Vraska] thought of Mazirek, of the kraul, of the rest of the Ochran assassins and the malignant Jarad who reigned with casual ruin over the most downtrodden of the downtrodden. She remembered her years of isolation, and the heinous cruelty of the Azorius, and how no group deserved to suffer as much as those who would subjugate her own. Eliminating that hell was all she ever wanted." -The Talented Captain Vraska, Alison Luhrs

Like Vraska, black loves fierce and hard, willing to break any taboo for the sake of those it cares about. And it whispers, the entire way through, you are enough. You deserve better. No matter what others may say or do, you are enough.

"If I am to be met with disrespect, then I must first love myself with a fierceness no fool can take away." -Vraska in Pride of the Kraul, Alison Luhrs

Even black's "ruthlessness" isn't as fundamentally cruel as it appears, centering a passion for problem-solving (shared by its other ally blue) instead of a blunt disregard for others.

"People don’t understand the word ruthless. They think it means 'mean.' It’s not about being mean. It’s about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. The line that goes from motive to means. Beginning to end. It’s about seeing that bright, clear line and not caring about anything but the beautiful fact that you can see the solution. Not caring about anything else but the perfection of it." -K. A. Applegate

All of this comes together to make a black a color not of evil but of strength, integrity, and persistence. And that's all well and good, but I'm going to take it even further and put forward a new proposition: that black is the color of hope.

Of the nine mono-black Magic cards with "hope" in their names, all but Liliana portray black as an instrument of hope's destruction. This is, once again, black's flaw taken to its extreme–crushing others to achieve its own ends–but neglects black's own relationship with hope.

Black, more than any other color, requires hope to stay alive.

For black to persist, it must believe in a light at the end of the tunnel, a future in which its goals are realized. As long as it does, it will endure any hardship, walk through fire, and turn reality itself upside down on its way there. Primal, desperate ambition is the engine of hope that burns at the heart of black, keeping it always one step ahead of stagnation. Bitter and stubborn, black believes tomorrow will come because there is no other choice. After all, for black to relinquish hope is to let itself wither, regress, and die–an unacceptable outcome.

Thus, it is monumentally difficult to strip black of hope. That only makes it all the more crushing when it happens, when black contends with the idea that there is nothing it can do.

Black's deepest, darkest fear is helplessness.

Like any mono-black character, Liliana Vess is driven at her core by a seething, desperate hope. When Liliana first unlocks her necromantic power, it is out of a sheer refusal to allow her ill brother Josu to die, even when the esis root that would cure him is destroyed by enemy witches in an undead-raising ritual. She defies her previous training as a healer, which taught her only to take the safe path, in favor of a higher-risk and higher-reward approach: stealing life from the witches themselves to restore power to the esis root she needs. It is her knowledge that her brother needs her, and her sheer stubborn will to succeed, which allows her to defeat the witches against steep odds.

"Six foes, and Liliana stood alone. But Josu's life depended on her, and the power blossoming within her was more than enough." -Liliana's Origin: The Fourth Pact, James Wyatt

Tragically, however, Liliana's attempted cure goes horrifically wrong, transforming Josu into an undead being plagued by eternal suffering. In his pain, Josu attacks Liliana. For a while Liliana holds out hope, finding the power to fight back while she determinedly searches for a spell to reverse the harm she's done. It is when she realizes this isn't possible that her strength falters.

"All this time, she had believed… that she could turn the power of death to the service of life and health. That a healer should use every tool at her disposal. But Josu was the result, a horrible fusion of life and death, and all her spells meant to manipulate the life force of the living could do nothing to harm the dead." -The Fourth Pact

Liliana learns that even her own dark magic, fueled by determination, cannot solve the problem she's created. She discovers the hard limit of her willpower, and the despair of this discovery is what causes her Planeswalker spark to ignite.

At this time Planeswalkers are as gods, immortal and near-omnipotent. Liliana spends decades enjoying this affirmation of her capability before the Mending strips her and all her peers of their power, reducing them once again to mortal mages.

"Then the Multiverse reshaped itself, robbing her—and every other Planeswalker—of the godlike power they once had wielded. Some called it the Mending, as if something broken had been repaired, but to Liliana, it seemed the opposite. It broke her beyond any hope of repair." -The Fourth Pact

Once again, it is Liliana's fear of helplessness and her refusal to accept it that drives her to push beyond the bounds of propriety–this time, to make a pact with Nicol Bolas and four demons to maintain her immortality. It is not enough for her merely to delay death; she requires the security of knowing she is fully beyond its reach, that she will never be helpless before it again as she was with Josu.

"Holding death at arm's length for whatever years are left to me? No, that's not enough. I want to be free of its shadow." -Liliana in The Fourth Pact

Black isn't like its enemy colors white and green, which are superficially associated far more often with hope. Unlike white, it doesn't believe that conviction, justice, and community will bring about rightness. Unlike green, it doesn't trust in the wisdom of the world or the natural order. Black believes that nothing will change unless you make it change; ultimately, black's self is the only one it can trust to bring about the world it needs. In addition, black lacks its enemies' idealism. Instead, it strives to be a pragmatic realist, making a final assessment of defeat all the more definite and crushing.

While white and green are more amenable to finding hope and holding it aloft as a banner, black claws hope desperately to its chest with shredded, bloody fingernails. Every ounce of hope black has, it tore by itself from the clutches of an uncaring world.

Ironically for such a self-driven color, black's fierce hope is the greatest asset it can provide to others–on its own terms, of course. It was Liliana who turned the tide of battle against the Eldrazi titan Emrakul, defiant in the face of cosmic despair. And when Nicol Bolas made his bid to return to godhood, using Liliana's necromancy to command his undead hordes, Liliana finally turned against him. In reclaiming her power, so too did she use it to free her fellow Planeswalkers from Bolas' assault. Her fear of helplessness no longer shackled her to him; agency and autonomy were hers at last.

The triumph of black, its moment of ultimate victory, is the hard-won fulfillment of its hope.

"Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light." -Dylan Thomas

An aetherborn, railing against the shortness of their natural lifespan, constructs a new body for themself with their own bare hands. An artificer's grief over her lost companion causes her to push invention to its limits. A young girl who loves her brother calls on the darkest of powers to save him. As it turns out, necromancy–that original thematic keystone of black–is only one of black's many, many refusals to let go of love and hope once it has them, even in the face of the ultimate end.

Time and time again, black–in love with life, ablaze with hope–looks the Grim Reaper in the eye and tells it: "Not today."

#mtg #magic the gathering #color pie #black mana #liliana vess #vorthos #literary analysis #war of the spark #magic origins #planeswalker #nicol bolas #vraska #necromancy

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toastylicious · 3 months ago

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I need help for an oc-based zine!

Hello hello hello! Do you have original characters? Do you like art/writing? Well boy, do I have a zine for you!

I'm planning to make a zine called "Toaster oven". It'll focus on ocs and their worlds, and will be formatted like a gossip tabloid!

Here are the columns/parts/whatever that will be included (if enough people participate, of course.)

LANDLINE - An advice column.

JAWBREAKER - A gossip/journalism column.

DEAR DOVE - An interview column!

BREWER'S CHOICE - A cooking column. (Can include spells)

PENCILKILLER - Little tasks / comics / poems.

And fake in-character ads!

How you can help:

LANDLINE - Send me a dm, ask (preferred), or reply to this post with a question your oc would send into an advice column! Example question (yours can be longer, but id recommend keeping this format) : "Dear Landline. I am a multiversal traveller (M, 45+), and I've been travelling like this ever since I got separated from my (adopted) child (Agender, infinitely old????). Recently, I have been dealing with my boss's bullshit, some random guy that looks like the guy that attempted to capture my child and grandchild, and a horrible family reunion. Which alcoholic beverages would you recommend for my situation? Preferably ones that can be consumed by machines. Many thanks." -@toastylicious

(obviously, replace the text within the "" with your own and the @ with your own) THERE WILL BE 3 LANDLINE PARTICAPANTS CHOSEN (2/3 slots filled)

JAWBREAKER - Send me a dm or an ask or reply to this post with a tabloid-style "article" about your oc/an event that happened to them. 500 word minimum, 1500 word maximum. BONUSSS: you can add 1-3 images of your oc that will be placed with the text. (Image not required, preferred) THERE WILL BE 3 JAWBREAKER PARTICAPANTS CHOSEN (1/3 slots filled)

DEAR DOVE - Reply to this post with your oc and some info about them. If you're chosen, I'll dm you questions for your characters and you dm me answers! THERE WILL BE ONE DEAR DOVE PARTICAPANT CHOSEN (1/1 slots filled)

BREWER'S CHOICE - Send me a dm or an ask or reply to this post with a recipe that your oc would use. It can be a recipe for a meal, a spell or a potion. BONUSSS: You can add an image (preferably drawing) of the meal/spell/potion your oc would make. For example, if you send in a recipe for enchanted croutons that electrocute you if you eat them, draw someone getting electrocuted by the croutons! (Image not required, preferred) THERE WILL BE 3 BREWER'S CHOICE PARTICAPANTS CHOSEN (1/3 slots filled)

PENCILKILLER - Send me a dm or an ask or reply to this post with a small 1-2 panel comic, a little task the reader could do (Drink water, do some streches, idk!), or a poem!

THERE WILL BE 4 PENCILKILLER PARTICAPANTS CHOSEN (1/4 slots filled)

ADS - Send me a dm or an ask or reply to this post with a drawn "ad". Obviously, these aren't actual ads. But they can be your oc trying to sell something! A witch selling her spice brew? A necromancer selling his dead-2-life services? A robot looking to buy parts? The options are endlessssss!

THE NUMBER OF ADS IS UNDECIDED (0/? slots filled)

ALL PARTICAPANTS WILL BE CREDITED, HOWEVER I CANNOT PROMISE CONPENSATION. THE FINISHED ZINE (If finished) WILL BE FREE.

DEADLINE: 01 / 02 / 2025 (Deadline is flexible, can change.) As always, reblogs and sharing appreciated :) Please help me spread this stupid idea and make it into a reality! WE NOW HAVE AN OFFICIAL DISCORD!

#zine #zine promo #art zine #ocs #oc #original character #drawing #artists on tumblr #art #digital art #sorry for tagging this as art #writing #writers #tabloid #lore #oc lore #oc zine #toaster oven zine

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cybershock24601 · 3 months ago

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My Mourn Watch Rook is romancing Lucanis and I’m planning to have my Antivan Crow Rook romance Emmrich and the best part of that is either way Viago is going to be dealing with an unhinged necromancer.

Rook Ingellvar is going to be hanging around and likely literally on the First Talon all the time being Rook’s normal weird self but then is going to say the most out of pocket shit out of nowhere about corpses and spirits. Possibly even raise a number of skeletal guard for the Dellamorte estate and wouldn’t that be a statement for the First Talon’s home to be guarded by the bodies of his marks. A creepy statement, Viago doesn’t know what Lucanis is thinking considering Rook’s everything and that’s before you throw in the necromancy but at least Rook is kind to the crows (the bird). When asked about it Rook says they have tons of them at the Necropolis and that they like her best because sometimes she’ll let them peck at the bodies before she brings in the beetles to pick the bones clean :). Viago and everyone in earshot wishes he’d never asked.

As for Rook de Riva, Viago is going to have the biggest headache in the world when Rook brings home her gentleman necromancer and his pet skeleton. And really, Rook? Going for the guy twice her age, Viago should have expected Rook to pull something like that. It does not help that Rook keeps dragging in bodies like a cat to present to her new beau for him to do… whatever it is the mortalitasi do with corpses. At the very least Viago gets a chance to see Vorgoth’s wonderful art collection so it could be worse and Emmrich makes for a decent conversationalist when he isn’t talking about necromancy. Though not by much. Viago still isn’t sure what he thinks about Rook’s “skeleton son” but at least Manfred’s keeping Rook busy enough that she’s not causing mischief.

#I love Viago #love to see him suffer!#rook #rook ingellvar #rook de riva #viago de riva #Rookanis #rookrich #lucanis dellamorte #emmrich volkarin #dragon age veilguard #dragon age

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postcardsfromheapside · 4 months ago

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Had an appointment of my own this morning so I might as well stop this from rattling around in my head and leave it here:

One reason it's so attractive that Emmrich's character subverts the tropes about necromancers (scary, icky, evil), and by all accounts is incredibly compassionate in his dealings with both death and healing, is because in the real world many of us frequently don't encounter that level of kindness and consideration from our medical professionals.

"Well of course," you say. But no, really - I've been dealing with chronic pain for 20 years and only just last year found a neuro who spent the kind of time you'd expect a doctor to spend investigating my issues. Someone who treats my case with curiosity, and kindness.

I don't want to reduce Emm down to just one Thing - I think we'll discover more aspects about him than just "necromancer/healer." But I do think a large part of what's made us all feral for him was reading about him in Tevinter Nights and feeling like he *listened* to Audric. Emmrich was presented with a problem, and not only listened, but heard.

The podcast really only reinforced that. Even when people were panicking, he stopped to check in, to make everyone use their words so he could communicate and make sure he's hearing them. It matters to him that everyone around him is taken care of to the best of his ability, as accurately as he can assess.

It gives the feeling that it's not just that he's competent, it's that he cares that you receive that competency in the manner that most befits you and makes you comfortable.

#emmrich volkarin #dragon age emmrich #datv #dragon age the veilguard

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cowboygenesis · 5 months ago

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1/2 fatum invenit | gale x reader

part 1 of the "fatum" mini-series.

summary: you've loathed each other since the dawn of his first arrival. it never should've worked, but somehow, as you find yourself chest-to-chest within a sunken crypt with no way out, your feelings finally surface— and Gods, do they cut deep.

pairing: gale dekarios x sorceress!durge!reader tags: fluff, angst, tons of cursing, mutual pining, forced proximity, enemies/rivals to lovers. word count: 5.3k notes: whew, here we are at last. if you've read "knuckle up" you might find the ending a little similar but... what can i say, im a softie. also, the durge aspect of the reader is truly very minimal, i just added it for the sake of flavor, whatevah... oh, and reader is super cheeky and generally curses a lot, im case that's something that bothers you. i want this to be a two-parter eventually, so expect some smut in the future chapter. as always, let me know what you think! enjoy! masterlist.

You… you fucking knew it. The one time in your life you decide to give a wizard the benefit of the doubt he… he screws you the fuck over.

It was supposed to be an easy job: infiltrate Kereska’s chapel, retrieve the relic Raphael demanded, and slip away unnoticed. Hey, no big deal— you’ve handled worse without breaking a sweat.

Most of your companions weren’t so eager to take on the devil’s dirty work after a night of drinking, so, you figured you’d tackle it solo. No problem. After all, you’d just returned home to Baldur’s Gate. The evening was warm, the streets thrummed with energy, and after a night of revelry, you were in a damn good mood.

So when Gale, with his calm, holier-than-thou attitude, offered to “assist,” you’d thought sure, why the Hells not?

And what a mistake that would turn out to be for you. Just as your gut had warned you, things ended up going sideways. All because of him.

You both had made it past the wards, the traps, and even those fucked up, undead necromancers that you hated dealing with—no thanks to Gale’s constant commentary on your spellcasting techniques. It was always some remark about how your magic was “undisciplined,” how you were “too reckless to be at your best.” Fuck, like you hadn’t been doing this shit for years, now.

Warranted, you weren’t exactly the nicest person, either. Meals at your camp were a battlefield of their own, filled with biting comments and passive-aggressive stares, often over trivial matters that had nothing to do with magic.

Plus, combat was no different. It rarely took more than a few minutes before you and Gale were mired in a heated debate over the “best course of action for the situation”. Naturally, these debates only added to the tension, making every encounter feel like a personal clash as opposed to a friendly discussion over technique.

You two were polar opposites, discordant, incompatible.

But you were an idiot, then. A dumb, tender-hearted idiot in a great mood who had hoped you two could eventually get along if the stars aligned just right. But that’s all hindsight.

After all the hard work, you had almost had it— your hand was just within reach of that damned necklace, caution thrown to the wind, when Gale decided to get fancy. A small “adjustment” to the magical aura surrounding the relic, he’d explained— something about minimizing risk and stabilizing the flow of the Weave so you could extract it safely.

You discarded the idea, of course; “fuck your tricks,” you had said (your actual words), rolled your eyes at him, and said goodbye to the remnants of your good mood as he reprimanded you like a teacher would a novice— and that, naturally, you weren’t.

Unlike him, you didn’t need a stack of tomes to inspectthis kind of arcane energy. It felt powerful and intricate, yes— but beneath it all, it was just a trick of the eye. The glowing, golden-tinged sphere wasn’t malevolent whatsoever, and instead served as a cheap ploy to repel those tempted by the artifact.

So, knowing what you knew, you reached for the relic despite his suggestion.

But, just as you were to lay a finger on it, he… he cast his fucking “safety” spell. And everything went to hell.

The forcefield around the necklace reacted— wildly. The air rippled in waves, the ground shifting beneath you, and suddenly, you were trapped in some kind of collapsed chamber beneath the chapel— cut off from the rest of the world, with no way out.

Worst of all, you were in heartbreaking proximity. The dugout was deep, but narrow, allowing you maybe a centimeter of privacy before your chest collided with his. And Gods, did that happen often. Any movement you made, your bodies would collide in one way or another, be it feeling his thigh rub against yours, grazing fingers, or smacking his chin— the last one being a complete accident on your part, of course.

And yes, as two magic-wielders would, you tried your luck. As it turned out, the stone binding your bodies together seemed to have a sort of Weave-repellent property that rendered your only functional skills worthless.

So, here you were, stuck with your arch-rival, and with every passing second, your frustration grew. It must have been half an hour since the disaster struck when you finally felt your head pound with frustration.

“Gale,” you sigh for the millionth time, “Are you even listening?”

He’s been doing a great job ignoring your commentary by seemingly occupying himself with analyzing your surroundings. Smart, sure, if it wasn’t for the simple fact he refused to collaborate with you whatsoever. After your initial scream-off, he seemed reluctant to give you the time of day again.

He finally clears his throat to speak, and you shoot him a glare in the dim light.

"You just had to do your thing, didn’t you?" he sighs.

“And you just had to show off,” you retort through a bitter snark.

Gale glances at you with narrowed eyes, yet his expression remains infuriatingly contained. “I was trying to prevent a catastrophe. If I hadn’t intervened, the entire chapel may have collapsed.”

“Well, congratulations,” you snap, “It collapsed on us instead. I’m so glad we avoided a disaster, Gale.”

He exhales slowly, then gives you a haphazard eye-roll. “Perhaps if you hadn’t rushed things—”

“Rushed things?” Your chest flares, making it collide with his. “I didn’t touch a damned thing. You’re the one who decided the Weave needed tuning or whatever other bullshit.”

Gale’s eyes narrow, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “You think I did this on purpose? I made the right choice. But you—”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” You cut him off, “Honestly, fuck you, man. If you were half as concerned with doing a good job as you are with peacocking we wouldn’t even be here in the first place.”

He looks away, his jaw tightening. “Peacocking?”

“Yeah. Peacocking, showing off—Are you okay? I thought you were supposed to be the clever one.” You shrug in mock nonchalance, rolling your eyes as if the circumstances weren’t already driving you up the wall.

You feel Gale’s chest rise and fall with a steadying breath, the sort one might take when trying to stop themselves from saying something they’ll inevitably regret. When it came to containing his bubbling rage, he beat you to it every time.

His casual lilt, when it comes, makes your teeth grit. “Obviously.”

You groan loudly, letting the back of your head thud against the stone wall behind you. A tense silence falls between you, broken only by the steady rhythm of his breathing, a sound that seems to grow louder in the small space whenever conversation dies down.

“You would’ve been buried stone-cold dead under the rubble if I hadn’t cast that spell,” he mutters, and just like that, your patience snaps.

“I— I can’t believe you’re saying this to me,” Your words are sharp as daggers, eyes burning into his as you twist your body just enough to face him head-on. “The barrier was a ruse, Gale. A fake. I told you not to cast that damn spell—”

“And I suppose explanations are beneath someone of your obvious talents,” he snaps back, his words dripping with venom.

You glare at him, feeling your pulse quicken. “You’re a scholar— Gods, don’t you know this kind of illusory magic is Kereska’s whole thing?” you spit, watching his face aptly in hopes of catching a glimpse of something; remorse, sympathy, fuck, even just a bit of pity would satiate you.

But it never comes. His eyes bore into you with practiced reprimanding, and because he must see you on the precipice of breaking down, he continues to poke the metaphorical bear. “You should’ve waited.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must’ve missed the part where you became the authority on everything. In case you somehow overlooked it, I’ve been doing this for years without your lectures.”

“And look how well that’s worked out for you,” he retorts, his voice low, treacherous. There’s a mocking smile imbued on his face, and you quickly realize it makes you want to tackle him to the ground and claw it out yourself. If it wasn’t for the minimal space, you probably would’ve even attempted it. “This wasn’t some petty street magic. That relic was infused with layers of defense—complex protections you clearly didn’t even account for—”

“I knew what I was dealing with!” you hiss, pushing against the wall for leverage. You brush against his chest again, sending an electric jolt of tension through the confined space. “I didn’t need your over-calculated, pompous meddling. I had it under control until you—”

“Under control?” Gale’s voice rises, his frustration finally splintering through his quiet facade as he emits a burst of scornful laughter. “Do you even hear yourself? Your recklessness nearly got us killed!”

You scoff, pushing back even harder. “You’re so damn smug— acting like the world will end if you don’t micromanage every little detail, but guess what? You don’t always have the answer. And right now, we’re stuck— all because of your fucking arrogance.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but then closes it, jaw tight, eyes blazing as he holds your gaze. For a second, you think he’s about to let loose another lecture, but instead, there’s silence—a strange, electricity-charged stillness that envelops you like a cold breeze.

You can’t speak. It crackles between you with a strain, thick enough to feel suffocating. Every breath you take only draws you closer to him, and somehow, it almost feels like the walls enveloping you have only grown thicker throughout your argument.

The closeness, the heat, the sheer intensity of the argument—it’s all too much, and yet, neither of you looks away once your gazes inevitably connect.

The wizard licks his bottom lip languidly, lips smacking as he seems to be taking you all in. His eyes scan over you, and somehow the fact makes you feel vulnerable.

Finally, he breaks the peace.

“If I’m so arrogant, why did you let me join you?”

His eyes are dark, but not just with frustration; they’re searching, questioning, as though he’s daring you to give an honest answer, knowing it’s something you can’t afford yourself right now.

“You asked me to let you come,” you bark out, pushing his chest with the heel of your hand, the contact sending a spark of heat through your outstretched arm. “I didn’t want you here. I figured we’d get through this, grab the necklace, and go our separate ways again. But no—you wanted to come. Play the hero, do all the dirty work, whatever your reasoning was.”

Gale doesn’t flinch at your words, but his eyes narrow slightly— they flicker to the space your bodies connect at, then back to your tautened face.

His gaze lingers on where your hand presses against his chest, and for a fleeting moment, you think he might back down. But instead, his jaw clenches, and when his eyes snap back to yours, there’s a fire behind them that ignites something deep in your gut.

“And you agreed,” he counters mockingly, the smile adorning his face making your head spin. “Why?”

The question hangs between you for a beat. You falter, mouth opening and closing without a reply.

He’s right. He’s fucking correct, and you hate it.

Why did you agree? You could’ve said no, barked back at him, insulted his stupid wizard frock— pushed him away with one of the countless options you had at your disposal.

But you didn’t. You let him come with you, willingly.

You clench your fists, pushing against the surge of discomfort bubbling in your belly. “Well, forgive me for being an optimist,” you mutter, voice tight. “I thought, for once, that maybe— Fuck. Maybe we could get through one fucking mission without trying to jump at each others’ throats.”

He exhales at your explanation, tilting his head to glance through the top of the crevasse and toward the chapel ceiling. You follow suit, albeit subtly, noticing the intricate engravings lining the skylight; in the dim light of the afternoon sun, they look elegant, beautiful, even. How didn’t you notice that when you first walked in?

“And how’s that going for us?” he asks suddenly, the smile curling at the edges of his mouth turning bitter.

You huff, running a hand through your hair. The condensation sticks to your fingers, and you can’t help the joyless chuckle that escapes your lips when you look at him again.

“Well, I don’t know,” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders lazily. Your cynical laughter shifts into the shadow of a smile. Somehow, as he glances down at you, you find yourself with a pang in your chest that overshadows the frustration you’ve been drowning in— it’s deep, and resonant, and feels like it’s swallowing your heart whole when his dark eyes meet yours. “We still hate each other.”

The wizard exhales sharply through his nose, and strangely, you can’t seem to read his expression even as your eyes squint.

His gaze is fixed on yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken; you feel it best when his hot breath hits the sweat-slicked skin of your face as he leans in. It’s a slight, almost imperceptible gesture, yet just enough to make your breath hitch with… rage, aversion— or perhaps, most frighteningly, something else you’ve been pushing down for months since your first quarrel.

You’re forcefully dragged out of your stupor when the pad of his thumb grazes your palm— the touch sends a sharp, almost uncomfortable jolt of electricity down your spine, leaving you speechless as you chalk it up to an unfortunate accident. Nothing more, it couldn’t be.

“I don’t hate you,” he says, and though his tone is stiff, the words cut through your pause like a skilled blade.

It couldn’t be.

Your breath catches in your parched throat, heart pounding with a force that would surely reverberate through his body hadn’t his robe been so thick.

You can feel the heat radiating off him, each shallow breath you take only drawing you closer— or, at least, that’s exactly how it feels in the tiny space you’re being forced to share.

His thumb is still brushing your palm, slowly, gently, and deliberately enough that you cannot ascribe it to a simple accident anymore. For a second, your eyebrows arch and there’s this urge to pull away, something thrumming in your head and telling you to hold to principle.

But you don’t… you— you physically can’t. Not when he’s gazing down at you with… with patience. Understanding, maybe. But why?

A beat passes, then another. The tension coils so tight you almost want to scream to break it, and his gaze remains locked on yours, his palm grazing yours.

You swallow hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts, but your voice betrays you when you finally manage to speak, trembling, barely above a whisper.

“You—” Your throat feels tight, words failing you as his face remains inches from yours. "You’re fucking with me. I… you hate me, Gale, I can’t—"

He glances down at you with a strange glint in his eyes, then exhales loudly again. Did you strike a nerve?

“Why do you always do this?” he questions with exasperation tugging at his tone. You feel his touch momentarily drop from yours, and in the heat of the moment, you find yourself missing it.

“What?” you blink, eyebrows furrowed.

“This,” He gestures between the two of you with a frustrated sigh. “You’re— you’re always picking fights with me. Always pushing, always assuming the worst—”

“I’m picking fights?” Your eyes narrow, the sneer coming back to your lips like armor. “You’ve been criticizing every godsdamn thing I’ve done since day one, making me feel inferior, questioning my skill— and now I’m the one picking fights?”

He shakes his head sharply, then sighs in frustration. When you look up, his eyes are locked on yours—deep brown with flecks of gold, catching the fractured sunlight streaming through the cracked skylight. You could drown in them, given the chance.

“No, that’s not— That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” He stops himself, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again. “You don’t— you just refuse to listen to me. When we fight, in camp— even now. The relic, that barrier, you— Gods, you always act instead of—”

“Don’t you dare paint me as the villain now,” you snap, bumping his chest with the pad of your palm again.

“You almost got us killed!” he bites back, “I don’t care for your talents if it means you don’t utilize them properly. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, raw talent doesn’t equal capability?”

Right.

Your lips purse, the pit in your stomach suddenly overpowering your ability to retort. It was a mistake— you should have known the niceties were a convenient gimmick to ascertain his position over you, and not an actual instance of humanity, for once.

But somehow, your false hopes only drive the wrath within you. You let the nausea overcome you and have it fuel your bitter tone as you finally find the power to speak up again.

“All you care about is being right— about having the last word against anyone who dares question your abilities,” you mutter, challenging his stern gaze with your own, “And the rest of us? We’re just supposed to sit by and watch, grateful to be in the presence of Gale Dekarios, the great, tragic wizard who thought his tricks could satiate a fucking Goddess!”

You’re fuming. The words that come out of your throat are only half-baked as you shrill at him, but… but at the moment, it feels right— warranted, somehow.

So when you catch him give you the space to continue, you take it.

“…But the truth is, you need to feel superior. You need everyone to see you as the sleekest in the room because deep down, you’re still clinging to the ghost of a woman who abandoned you. And that’s why you’ve been picking me apart since day one—because I’m not afraid to tell you how full of shit you are.”

Suddenly, you feel his hand catch your wrist, his grip firm as he holds you still. His thumb presses lightly against your pulse, sending a sharp, unwanted jolt of awareness through your body as your arm tries to jerk away.

“You don’t know the first godsdamn thing about me,” Gale growls, his breath fanning your face as the words spill out, thick with venom. “You’re so wrapped up in your own insolence, so blinded by your stubborn pride, that all you can see in others is a reflection of yourself. And trust me when I say that it’s an ugly one.”

You laugh, a bitter, angry sound, but your heart is hammering now. “Oh, so you think you’ve got me all figured out?”

His jaw clenches, but his grip doesn’t waver. “I know enough. I know that your actions speak louder than words. I know that you’re reckless, impulsive, and too damned proud to admit when you need help—”

Your heart pounds in your chest, the heat between you scorching as your breaths mingle. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite. You’re the one who’s blinded by your own self-importance— always thinking you’re the wisest, savviest person in the room, like the rest of us are just pawns in your little fucking game.”

Gale’s eyes flash with something wild and uninhibited, and you watch his sneer shift into a bitter smile again.

“You— You really think that?” he questions through a chuckle, voice gravelly and low. “Do you really think I’m just using you for some game?”

For a heartbeat, neither of you moves. You sneer at him, and the outrage bubbles out again.

“Oh, don’t make me laugh. You’ve only ever looked out for yourself. This was never about helping me—it was… it was about proving something. To me, to yourself, to fucking Mystra,” you trail.

The moment the words leave your lips, the air shifts between you like a storm about to unravel. His grip on your wrist tightens, not painfully, but with a deliberate firmness that forces you to stop and feel the tension between you. His face is suddenly too close, and for the most succinct moment, you catch something flickering in his eyes—something dim, and dark—but not the rage you were expecting.

He should be angry with you— Hells, he should be furious. You just tore into every insecurity you knew he had, ripped open wounds that never quite healed, and worst of all, dragged his old lover into it all.

And yet… his gaze isn’t burning with the fever you’ve grown used to seeing from him in every argument, every fight.

Why the fuck isn’t he furious?

“Gods, I actually— I used to admire you. You know that? Before all this, I thought you were someone I could… I don’t know, respect. You were this brilliant, woeful man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I thought, ‘Maybe there’s something more underneath all that.’ I thought we could, I don’t know, actually be something—friends, allies, whatever the fuck. I wanted us to trust each other. But… but you…" your voice lowers to a near whisper, and somehow, unbeknownst to you, your eyes go glassy with hot tears.

You’re left reeling, heart hammering in your chest as your mind races along with your bitter confession. The air around you feels viscous, mucous-like, but when your throat goes dry with impending tears you look up to see something that makes your breath hitch.

He’s listening.

Not just waiting for his turn to speak as he usually does around you, not calculating his next clever retort, but listening— really, truly listening.

His gaze, once so sharp with ire, has softened. His dark eyes are fixed on yours with a vigor that nearly undoes you, and there’s no anger in them now, no resentment.

Your breath catches.

“You never gave me a chance, Gale. Not once. It was always about you, your guilt, your past, your Mystra— Fuck!” you cough out and rub your eyes with the pads of your palms, massaging your vulnerability away. “I tried. I really, really tried. But none of this seemed to reach you, not through that… that mental barrier you’ve created around yourself. I think that since the very beginning, everything else was just noise to you. I was just noise to you,” your voice dies down to a mutter, and you inhale sharply to fight the sorrow back into your grieving heart.

You withdraw your hands and finally feel brazen enough to face him.

You can feel the heat in your cheeks, aware that your nose is red from the tears you tried so hard to hold back, that your eyelids are probably puffy and swollen, and you’re a fucking mess.

But it doesn’t matter now. You’ve come undone, and now, nothing mattered to you anymore; not the anger, not the sorrow, and especially not the way his kind, gentle touch seemed to soothe your aching heart when his palm met yours.

You scan his face, but there’s nothing— or at least, you can’t seem to read it through the coating of tears obscuring your eyes. The light above has shifted to cast his face in a warm, velvety light. You catch the subtle lines etched into his forehead, the faint silver threads streaking through his hair, and his lips curling into… a smile.

Despite your desperation, despite your pain, he was smiling.

Your chest tightens, fists clenching at your sides, and before you can stop them, a stream of hot tears finally spills down your cheeks.

This was it. You braced for impact.

“…So do whatever the fuck you need to fill that void in your heart, but don’t involve me in any of it. And— for fuck’s sake, Gale, don’t act like you give a shit about me because you—”

But you never get to finish.

Before you can witness the gentle glint in his eyes as he leans into you, before you can even register it, his lips crash onto yours.

Your gasp is muted against the softness of his mouth. When he moves, it’s not gentle, not soft, but raw in its intensity and so, so desperate.

His grip on your wrist tightens briefly before finally releasing, his free hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. The warmth of his hand is a pleasant change to the cold, hard stone you’ve been leaning against, and suddenly, just as your mind threatens to flood you with dopamine, it all dawns on you.

You’ve been here before—no, not here, but in moments that feel eerily alike.

You recall the edge in his voice during arguments, the way he’d insist on ‘rectifying’ you at every turn, the blunt critiques you assumed were borne from pure vanity. But now… now there’s a clarity to it all. Worry. Fear. A softness, a hesitation. Like when he would offer his hand to you after a fight, his fingers lingering just a moment too long as they brushed over yours.

You loathed him… Hells, you detested him.

But how deep were you willing to draw the line between hate and devotion?

Against all your instincts, against the sharp, burning ache in your chest—you drink him in. His warmth, his touch, the power behind it all.

You know you should push him away, shove him off, scream, but instead, you find yourself frozen— trapped in the certainty of this moment. And despite every ounce of fury burning inside you, you can’t deny the spark it ignites in your indigent heart as he caresses you so tenderly.

And with that, you seal your fate with his.

Your lips press against his, head tilting until you feel you’re melting into him. He groans softly against your mouth, and the sound makes your chest thrum with a melody you’re afraid to place.

Your hands, trembling, inch towards his chest, but this time they aren’t formed into spiteful fists or an accusatory point— your palms lay lax against him, resting at the junction of his ribs and pushing, pushing… just in hopes of catching the steady thrum of his heart against your fingertips. The anger, the pain, the confusion—it’s all still there, but in this moment, none of it matters.

Just him. Just this.

For all the times you’ve misread him, all the moments you thought his criticisms were barbs, meant to wound—now you wonder. You had mistaken his care for contempt, his frustration for hatred. But now, as his lips part slightly against yours, the world narrows down to just the two of you. No damned relic, no mission, no war; only the benign sensation of his hand cradling the back of your neck, the warmth of his mouth on yours, and the undeniable truth of it all:

You’ve never hated him. Not once in your rotten life.

And when his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, you want to come undone. You’re tired, hot, melting into this fiery, passionate kiss that has slowly turned languid and gentle.

So despite the zeal enveloping your body, you’re finally forced to part.

When your eyes open, you find him already watching you. A shiver runs down your spine as you drink him in; tousled hair, half-lidded eyes, and the ghost of a smile on his plush lips as the both of you pant in tandem with each other.

He looks wrecked. But then again, you’re certain you do too.

Your face feels flushed, still burning with aftershock and when you bite your bottom lip, you find it swollen. Raw. The taste of him lingers there too, sweet like bourbon and sharp like anise.

You stare at each other. It’s like you’re seeing him for the first time again, really seeing him, and it softens your heart as much as it terrifies your lust-addled mind.

The silence stretches between you, so thick you can feel it pressing against your skin. It pulls taut with every second, coiling tighter, and you can’t stand how fragile it makes your heart feel.

You swallow hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts, but your voice betrays you when you finally manage to speak, trembling, barely above a whisper. “You—” Your throat feels tight, words failing you as his face remains inches from yours.

"Yeah?" His voice is husky— you’ve never found that aspect of it attractive until now.

You open your mouth, but the words—whatever they are—die in your throat. Instead, all you can do is look at him and fall deeper into his embrace.

There are questions that swirl in the back of your mind, ones you know you should ask, but they slip away the moment his thumb brushes your cheek again. Why did he kiss you? Why did you let him? And why, despite the chaos and pain that’s passed through your mind, did this—he—feel like the only thing that has made sense since you forgot all else?

“I never hated you,” he murmurs and shifts slightly, lifting his hand to cup your cheek. You nuzzle into his touch.

“I didn’t want to hate you,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I thought it’s what we were meant to be. Enemies.”

“We aren’t,” The corner of his mouth twitches. “We never were.”

His thumb brushes your cheek, and just like that, the fragile walls around your heart crumble. Gale Dekarios, the man you had sworn to hate, has somehow intertwined himself into your very existence in a way you suddenly think might last centuries.

—

As it turns out, the solution to your predicament was surprisingly, nearly embarrassingly straightforward. The anti-magic barrier encircling the sunken crypt could be dispelled by reciting the incantation inscribed on the rock walls— and with Gale’s surprising proficiency in Draconic, it proved quite an easy feat.

After that, it was just a matter of a few rudimentary spells. Naturally, the task took longer than anticipated, thanks to the lingering, newfound tension between you and the wizard— fleeting glances, soft touches, and even an occasional, stolen kiss as you recited your magic; things you surprisingly found yourself quite fond of.

As you step out into the cool evening air, you inhale deeply, savoring the crisp, refreshing breeze. The sunset paints the world in a warm, golden hue, casting long, soft shadows across the cobbled streets as you pass by groups of chattering townsfolk.

“I’ve been thinking,” you hear your companion muse through a playful smile. “After all of this, do you think we could avoid arguments for a little while?”

You meet his gaze with a puckish eye roll, a smile tugging at your still-swollen lips. The warm glow of the streetlights casts his face in a soft, intimate glow, and your smile widens into a grin when you catch his lips bearing that same sign of your carnal affection.

“It depends,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug, pushing against him playfully.

“Mhm, and on what exactly?” he hums, his hand squeezing tighter around yours. When his thumb caresses your palm, you feel your heart thrum with something you can’t quite describe.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you reply, glancing up at him with a grin. He returns it within a beat, and now it’s your turn to knit your fingers tighter. “How much longer are you planning on nagging me?”

He chuckles from the belly, and the coil in your chest that you’ve long expected to be spite emerges as something much larger, softer, and most unexpected. You fear to name it out loud.

You smile when your gaze meets his, the warmth in his eyes mirrored by the softness of your own. He leans in, and the world narrows to the touch of his lips against yours—a brief, gentle kiss that seems to linger in the evening light. In that fleeting moment, all the doubts and anxieties are swept away with his voice calling your name.

“For as long as I live,” he retorts softly, his voice laced with tenderness as the air between you, once again, fills with his laughter.

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runaeveena · 1 year ago

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Your dashboard if you were in a d&d fantasy world still involved in fictional erotica discourse part 2

⛰️ berenicesblade Follow

now that the new Mountain Angel volume has come out can we please tag spoilers, some of us are still waiting for our pigeon mail

🦚 faeynadaughter Follow

you can access the volume in full on TomePlane!

🎭 bardcampistrash Follow

until TomePlane acknowledges that its interplanar storage is made possible by binding aboleths to the plane and killing them then we are going to continue not using that platform, thanks

🦚 faeynadaughter Follow

aboleths killed my cousin who was a royal cleric. ill never understand why theres a whole movement to protect abyssal creatures when theyve caused so much damage to our kingdoms. and disliking a pocket dimension which provides thousands of people access to books? your attitude reeks of anti literaturism and mal-aligned virtue signaling and im not sure which is worse

🫒 tenthday237 Follow

Aliizya gets pregnant on page 62

⛰️ berenicesblade Follow

banished

620 Notes

🏰 finchtruther Follow

okay but the way that faelor finch writes every song that perfectly fits pennbiel liiike its giving closet fangirl

🧭 waywardwarlock

seriouslyy!! like what else is "give me your unmarked hand / in the shadowfell we won't be a secret" supposed to be about if not pennipher and corabiel

16 Notes

🌫️ cloudgiant-snailboy Follow

yall please dont fill up the unseen servant tag with your super fucking weird smut posts im just looking for tips on how to find my unseen servant

🪡 scç-writer

the search function on tomeblr does need to be updated but we dont have to kinkshame :)

🌫️ cloudgiant-snailboy Follow

the site is being overrun by virgin degenerates

🍯 treebarkhookhandwagondoor

sounds like you need Wilam the Wizard with Wandering Hands to help you summon the unseen stick in your ass

290 Notes

🗝️ crypt-princess Follow

so whose going to be the first to commission a painting of that scene with Aliizya and the beholder 👀

🍎 bloodmaledickening Follow

i already asked my local artisan he said he's gotten two other commissions for the same scene lmao

🐁 softbarbarian

girl i commissioned a tapestry

45 Notes

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

friendly reminder that devil deals are a real thing that a lot of people fall victim too and that demons are malicious and do destroy peoples lives if theyre not careful so please be careful when consuming works like Hellionfinity which romanticizes devil deals and fiendish soul contracts

🌾entangled-farmer Follow

imo any work of fiction that involves a romance between any type of fiend is not just problematic but harmful

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

i used to be indifferent to books that had devil romance interests because like thats their whole thing theyre seducing people to get their souls and the mc overcomes it, but reading through the replies i see that Hellionfinity actually ends with the devil character as the main romantic lead which is super problematic in terms of power imbalance and the fact that he has a redemption arc is so out of touch especially since our military is finally recovering from the azgurian assault

🧚🏻‍♂️arms-of-faelor

helliofinity also has a scene where the main character uses a soul coin that an imprisoned mortal gave him and he uses it to bring the devil out of avernus so he doesnt fully die and no one in the book mentions it or talks about how messed up it is to use soul coins and we never see the now bound to hell prisoner ever again

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

hellionfinity officially cancelled on my end!

88 Notes

☘️ celest-ial Follow

moment of silence for all the customers waiting on drink orders while the tavern wench gets her back blown out by a new guy every night ✊😔

🦁 king-killa Follow

the gods work hard but Girthy Gladys gets worked harder

57,022 Notes

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

paladin and warlock romances are OUT! cleric and necromancer romances are IN!

🪭 royalcoinpurse Follow

the only thing a cleric should do to a necromancer is beat him to death so she can revive him and kill him again

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

❇️ arch-dryad Follow

i think we need to analyze why we're so quick to place women in categories of devious seductress or healer in romance novels as if that hasnt been the pervasive trope that holds magic-touched women back in our actual society

🍯 treebarkhookhandwagondoor

why do you assume these fictional tropes are mf couples only? can a gay cleric not beat his gay necromancer boyfriend to death?

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

and off! beat him off cmon guys

5,275 Notes

🧀 weremouse Follow

yall ever be talking or whatnot and feel like no one understands you

🪨 sebrenenogdon Follow

ᛄᚠ ᛡᚢ ᚳᚪᚾ ᚱᛁᛞ ᚦᛄᛋ ᛡᚢ ᚺᚪᚠ ᛏᚢ ᚱᛁᛒᛚᚪᚷ ᚦᛄᛋ

🧀 weremouse Follow

say that shit fr (<- looking around clueless)

🪨 sebrenenogdon Follow

ᛋᛁᚱᛁᚪᛋᛚᛁ

60 Notes

🌠 crownofstars

remember when that person made a call out post for the author of ilairepeler for using a ghost writer and it turned out the author was an actual ghost. writing. like a literal ghost writer. like.

🍄gnomestool Follow

arent you the dwarf that fucked a slaad

🌠 crownofstars

how would you like to become a ghost so you can write more witty comments like this for eternity

301 Notes

#round two please laff i did this at work #fantasy dashboard #tumblr dashboard meme #dungeons and dragons #d&d #bg3 #dungeon meshi #my post

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brittle-doughie · 7 months ago

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( I made some hcs about your Ancients au cause I really like the idea)

Pure Vanilla Beast (Perfection)

Appearance-wise, I think he looks much more emo(?) or can be corrupted. It has been a while since I read the previous chapter but maybe his frequent use of Dark Moon Magic may or may not corrupt him, maybe giving him a more rugged and unkept appearance, eyes of an insomniac, and perhaps a crown of thorns on his head and an eye in the middle of his head to show his enlightenment or ascension to beasthood

Probably uses his Vanilla Orchids to seek out victims- lost lambs who need his assitance, you can't go around with that impure and fragile body! Let him heal you and you'll be better for all eternity!

He probably has the patience of a saint, but the last thing you want is to push him to the limit, it's wise not to anger a god-like being after all.

Still cherishes his "Friends" (More like former friends) but he puts them in the lowest amount of importance, especially when he has to aid his citizens to "ascend"

Probably the last person to ascend into beasthood. After seeing all the suffering and despair inflicted upon the weak especially from the "Ancient Beasts" and their predecessors. Ascended to aid those to "ascend" from their mortal shells and live in eternal prosperity! (Part 1 of 5)

The Prophet of Salvation HCs (Beast Pure Vanilla Cookie) | The Ancient Beast Order AU

I would pertain the more emo-ish vibe to him leaning into the necromancer type of deal.

His orchids can heal, but no cookie would want the additional effects the orchids bring. Especially towards near crumbled cookies..

Making any of the Order Beasts angry is a DO NOT. Be grateful that the Prophet can take so much insolence before he’s had enough…

He cherishes all that make up his kingdom. Black Raisin would learn that he might cherish everyone too much to let them go…

Pure Vanilla could only take so much despair and anguish before he too saw the light of his friends’ reasonings. He knew what he had to do and ascended to beasthood to “save” everyone!

#brittle answers #pure vanilla cookie #the ancient beast order au #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader

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solsilverpine · 21 days ago

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since skelly crews final is about to come out I would like to drop my obscure theory as to who I think Jod might be based on mostly vibes, and a few character traits.

I think he's Jaybo Hood, this kid from the clone wars episode mystery of a thousand moons.

now, at first I was just like "haha their names are kind of similar," but our first introduction to this kid is him having reprogramed a bunch of droids to be his servants, which would align with how Jod treats droids. not to mention his affinity for droids could be a sign of early force sensitivity, much like Anakin in episode I.

secondly, there was his line in episode 4 where he says the air taste like ashy dust and reminds him of his home planet. Jaybo's planet Iego as we saw it in the clone wars was surrounded by a lazer web that destroyed anything trying to leave which would certainly leave a strong impression of ashy dust. As a bonus note, Iego is part of the ash worlds sector. Coincidence? I mean probably, but it is fun to think about.

As a third point, there are similarities that can be drawn between Iego's moon web and the barrier. Star wars is a fan of it's narrative repetition. I think putting him in a position where he's trapped on a planet by a planet wide security system would fall into the "it's like poetry, it rhymes" category.

Now onto things mentioned in interviews.

Jude Law has spoken a few times about how Jod didn't really have a childhood; it was snatched away from him and all he sees when he looks at the kids are small adults. He doesn't understand why they can't just survive, why they're so inexperienced. He has no real concept of innocence.

That would align with a kid like Jaybo who has had to take what he can to get in a pretty rough situation. Not to mention his introduction is sending his reprogrammed battle droid out to the jedi with the message "The venerable Jaybo Hood requests an audience" (venerable beings someone accorded a great deal of respect especially because of age wisdom or character) despite the fact he's a ten year old kid.

Jude Law also speaks several times about drawing inspiration from Han Salo for Jod.

if you look at the behind the scenes notes on wikipidia it says Jaybo Hood was described by Dave Filoni as "a cross between a young Anakin and a young Han Solo."

None of this is really enough for a full theory, I just think its fun to think about. Jod could be someone from legends, someone entirely original, a jedis kid, or somehow a Palpatine clone (given the prevalence of project necromancer in recent media.) Really I just hope they give us some kind of payoff to explain some of their writing decisions.

#skeleton crew theory #skeleton crew spoilers #skeleton crew #star wars skeleton crew #jod na nawood #star wars #jaybo hood #this is really just a brain dump #fan theory #i dunno ive been meening to write this for a few weeks #if you took the time to read this thanks

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felassan · 5 months ago

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Thoughts on the new images of the Lighthouse Part 1. DA:TV spoilers under cut.

[Link to Part 2]

general: the Lighthouse looks so cool, it's beautiful 🥺 I can't wait to explore it fully and see the companions' areas change over time.

outside many of the windows are pieces of floating rock and odd architecture, a feature of Fadey scenery.

This can only be Emmrich's room. :) the giant skeleton statue on the left is exactly like the ones in the Necropolis Halls. the hanging lanterns have hexagon shapes, which I've become convinced is part of Nevarra's visual design in this game. the slab-like table in the foreground looks suspiciously like it's meant to hold a corpse/skeleton, and we can see Emmrich doing just that here. the room is filled with lots of flasks and other glass vessels, reminding me of the artbook concept of apron!Emmrich holding a smoking glass flask. I wonder if any of the jars/vases are more like urns and canopic jar kinda deals? there's a big scroll on the desk and lots of books and scrolls everywhere, as you might expect from a scholar and a professor. there's lots of skulls and skull-themed decor everywhere, even affixed to the wooden part of the upper floor, as you might expect from a necromancer. Emmrich really said okay I'm moving in now and my huge collection of skulls is coming with hhh. in the righthand corner of the room it looks like a giant skull (the bottom part of it looks to me like teeth), and on one shelf there's even a ribcage.

do the statue-figures on either side of the fire look like humanoid figures holding their heads in their hands to anyone else, only their heads are like vase-shaped?

maybe he sleeps upstairs somewhere?

the big spiral staircase is beautiful and so is the sunlight beaming in through the windows from above. :) the fireplace looks cozy. in the arches of the windows you can see the curves of ancient elvhen architecture. the view from up there must be so pretty!

This item on the top of one of the shelves caught my eye. I can't place it atm but haven't we seen this shape before?

This room can only be Neve's. :) in the bottom left is a stand with a different leg on it, the same as one of the ones shown in her artbook concept art. there is serpent imagery. I think diamond shapes and pointy objects like the wall-lights are part of the visual language design of Tevinter. the hanging lanterns look magical, a common thing in Tevinter. the rug is pretty and incorporates her turquiosey color palette. on her desk there is a turquoise pot (teapot?) - if you look closely, its coloring and the swirling designs on it are very similar to Neve's teacup here. :) there are various teapots and decanter-type things around the place that she could use for coffee.

it's smart room design, the big ceiling-high windows give the room the impression of a workplace office, like something out of a crime procedural.

Neve's casework wall. wanted posters/mugshots/suspect/missing person (they could be any of these) pictures, lots of notes, papers that look like they could be maps, strings linking together different papers in a clues-board like this meme, papers that it looks like Neve has annotated in red ink while studying them (circling and underlining things). a nice touch is that one or two of the papers are drawings of snowflakes, fitting for an ice mage. :)

I'm curious, what is this and what is it for? Bellara has one of these in her room as well, as does Lucanis (see Part 2).

these hanging objects are also interesting. they look like glass cases containing pieces of parchment on which a snake is drawn.

This room can only be Bellara's. :) it's filled with floating ancient elven magic-tech triangles and in the middle it shows the detached head thing from her artbook concept art. (he looks like if you activated him with the blue crystal or something that he could talk..). the room has a workshop vibe; she has a workbench and a stool, different instruments and gismos, and there's an array of artifacts on the shelves. the orange wall hanging on the right is triangular, flanked by two arrows in the nets and contains the skull of a deer/halla or similar animal. this must represent the Veil Jumpers given that many of them use archery, the triangles and the fact that their faction logo is a deerlike skull. it's a nice touch that even the structure of some of Bellara's furniture, like the sidetable on which the head rests, are triangular in design.

All the picture frames everywhere - are those mirrors? could they have something to do with investigating eluvians, or the network?

this looks like this halla statuette asset from DA:I. :) there's one of these in Taash's room too.

the ancient elven face motif, like on Solas' Trespasser armor and the Temple of Mythal Sentinels' armor.

hanging bone hh?

Left: what is this contraption? the ear is human Center: very ornate box. what's in here? maybe the animals on the top of the lid are stylized mabari? Right: Fereldan mabari banner.

Left: this pattern of walls and the triangle pattern on them is a feature of ancient elven architecture. Right: the way the walls (behind the frames) are designed here, it makes it look like pipes. Bottom: curious that we cannot see the ceiling.. :)

This looks like a sort of magnifying glass or microscope-type thing that would allow her to closely examine things she finds.

What does this do? :D

This (left), along with the head, feels like a focal point in her room. this hanging thing almost looks like a model of a planet or solar system - a planet in the middle, a ring of asteroids or something around it, smaller orbs around the place like moons. we've seen part of something similar before, in the ancient elven ruins in Arlathan Forest in the screenshot on the right. compare these bits; the rings, the paired triangles.

looking at the wider structure of the thing in Bellara's room, it also reminds an awful lot of this place (whatever it is), which even has the ring of rocks going around it.

feels important. :D

I feel like this is Harding's room. :) it's pretty and cute, a nice rustic space (suits her). the simple bedroll under a cloth canopy propped up with some sticks has the vibe of something a shepherd and scout might rig up to rest in when out in the wilds. the pond / water feature transforms it into an outdoorsy, nature-y space, as do the leaf-strewn floors and the plants growing up the walls. there's vegetation everywhere - potted plants and some areas which look like raised planting beds, basically little indoor gardens. this includes windowboxes, flowers and even mushrooms (I know that's fungi. yk what I mean hh). this makes so much sense for Harding - we know she loves nature and plants, and Ali Hillis mentioned that Harding also raises plants. I wonder if as the game progresses, she will grow more plants and the ones she has already will grow some more? like maybe she'll finish planting up the area around the pond the whole way round? and I wonder if her lil pond has fish? that would be so neat. please can I buy some beautiful koi for Harding to put in her pond to raise? also I wonder if any of the things she grows are edible? like imagine Bellara and Lucanis cooking with e.g. salad greens grown and raised here by Ms Harding :D and/or healing herbs we could use in the field?

this plant for example resembles the model for elfroot in DA:I!

I think maybe this is Taash's room. first off, near the middle of the room it looks like a makeshift weights bench, and we know that Taash is a gym bro. the hanging rings nearby that remind me of these. even the 'horizontal ladders' on the ceiling look like you could use them as monkeybars - if you look on the left, there are even ladders in the form of rings protruding from the wall that you could use to climb up there to access them.

even these frame things look like they could be used for some kind of physical workout/climbing situation.

on the table to the left it looks like piles of big coins, fitting for a Lord of Fortune. elsewhere in the room behind the weights bench it looks like there might be some gold bars. in the background is a hammer leaned against a crate.

this crate has her color scheme - the tealy hue, gold pieces and red ropes.

a Qunari symbol, in drapery that has her color palette, the teal with the red ropes. btw, comparing this and its location to the new screenshot of Taash, I think that this banner is the thing in the background that I was talking about here (the "something blue-green"):

in the background to the right is something blue-green with what looks like red rope hanging off it. a belonging of Taash’s? maybe this shot is from a quieter moment, somewhere in the Lighthouse, maybe her space? if you look here (Arlathan, the ruins are ancient elven), it has the same sort of repeating zigzag patterns on the same sort of arch-like curves as here. it makes me think that this shot is set in a room with ancient elven architecture. (and the Lighthouse was Solas’, so it would have ancient elven design).

If you look at the banner with a wider crop you can even see the "arch-like curves" with the zigzag patterns that she's standing in front of in the new screenshot. this area has fire to the left of the arch, which would cast the warm firey glow you can see from stage-left in the new Taash screenshot. so it looks like in the new Taash screenshot she was standing somewhere around here:

And that my guess of the setting of the new Taash screenshot was correct. :D

crate of some kind of weaponry or bones, including a map with a knife I imagine you'd use to mark spots on it with. :) piratey vibe.

clever room design btw, it has the vibe of belowdecks/the bowels of a ship.

horned statue or carving, like an ogre.

Top: the silver shield-like things on the wall have the same sort of scale-mail appearance as Taash's field armor. Bottom: this thing reminds me of a boat in shape. like a small fishing boat or something.

I wonder why Taash has a Grey Warden shield and an eluvian in her room? maybe the shield is just general decor (like the Fereldan banner in Bellara's room? unless Bellara is from Ferelden??). maybe the eluvian ties into why she apparently has some involvement and a strong interest in a main story mission set in the far reaches of Arlathan Forest, as described by Corinne Busche during the second Discord Q&A? -

"I was out in Arlathan, actually doing, on my way to do a main story mission, and I get to the far reaches of Arlathan Forest, and I already knew that Taash wanted to help me with some of the challenges of that arc. Well, Taash is right there waiting for me, so I actually chose to instead like, ah, Taash seems impatient, I’m gonna actually jump on that story arc right now instead of what I intended to do"

And what is this? Looks like a sun or an owl. ^^

I ran out of image allowance on this post so I'll put the rest in another post!

[Link to Part 2]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #solas

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theskee · 3 months ago

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hello i am here to talk about ship fodder for (unsurprisingly) yet another rogue/mage ship -- some spoilers for Dragon Age: The Veilguard.

SO LUCANIS/EMMRICH (I vote we call them DemonWatch but that's just me c:)

There is such an interesting dynamic at play between these two. So I'll break down some key thoughts I have into bullet points here:

- At a baseline, Emmrich can see and speak with Spite. That's already extremely interesting. When we take it a step further, Emmrich also respects and is nurturing toward Spite and in early game, tries to encourage Lucanis to seek harmony with Spite. In my playthrough he was the first one to do so. [Lucanis Does Not Like This]

- Friction!! When given the option to suggest, because Emmrich is so experienced in dealing with Spirits, that Lucanis talk to him for help, Lucanis immediately rejects this idea, claiming that Emmrich looks at him like a thesis project, which, when you observe them in the wild, isn't necessarily the case. But Lucanis is so resistant to accepting Spite that it's not surprising he wouldn't want help from the person who's been both fascinated and encouraging toward Lucanis accepting this is his life now and bonding with Spite to find some sense of equilibrium rather than fighting against it. This is doubled down upon quite subtly when again, Rook can suggest Lucanis turn to the mages on their team for help and Lucanis says he already talked to Bellara and Neve. Pointedly not Emmrich.

- Emmrich is terrified of his own mortality, yet is a necromancer, and Lucanis Kills People for a Living. They both have unique relationships with Death and differing perspectives of it. Listening to them go back and forth on this topic is particularly interesting.

- Emmrich is kind, and soft, and understanding. Age and experience are a key part of who he is, Lucanis is gentle and awkward, uncertain of himself, and I just really feel like there's such a capacity for tenderness between them.

- Not explicitly in the game BUT Nevarran's take food EXTREMELY seriously. It's kind of a big deal in their culture. Lucanis loves to cook. LET THEM BE FOODIES TOGETHER. Lucanis cooks as a way to show his affection, and I think Emmrich would be very receptive to that. uwu

- Emmrich is very sweet but also kind of a FREAK.

- I don't think I'll ever be over the way Lucanis tells Emmrich to knock it off in Act 3 and not try to get his Affairs in Order with him, because that's bad luck. Emmrich tries so hard to be prepared for his death, which he's terrified of, and this is absolutely a shipping goggles moment but the thought of Lucanis being like "No. We're not dying. You're not dying. So don't act like you're going to." OOF.

Now. I haven't done the Lucanis Romance yet. That one's next. So I'm sure I'll have more thoughts when that's done. ANYWAY. HI IS THERE ANYONE OUT THERE?

#emmcanis #DemonWatch #dragon age: the veilguard #DATV #DATV Spoilers #Dragon Age: The Veilguard Spoilers #emmrich volkarin #lucanis dellamorte #emmrich x lucanis #lucanis x emmrich #Lucammrich

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bylerween · 2 years ago

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Announcing the daily themes for Bylerween!

Each day has three themes: one horror theme, one in-show theme, and one fluff theme. Feel free to use inspiration from just one, two, or all three themes for each day!

Day 1, October 26:

Ghosts & Hauntings

Trapped in the Upside Down

Haunted House

Day 2, October 27:

Slashers, Gore & Body Horror

Demogorgon & Flesh Monster

Halloween Party

Day 3, October 28:

Demons, Devils & Exorcisms

Will’s S2 Possession

Pumpkin Patch & Apple Orchard

Day 4, October 29:

Psychological Horror

Attacked by Vecna

Sweater Weather

Day 5, October 30:

Came Back Wrong

Flayed!Mike/Flayed!Will

Carnival Night

Day 6, October 31:

Supernatural Creatures

Trick or Treat, Freak (2x02)

Trick or Treating

Day 7, November 1:

Witches, Wizards & Necromancers

D&D

Renaissance Festival

***

Rules and guidelines for posting can be found in our intro post here.

Extra prompts and ideas for these themes are under the Read More cut! Also, look below to see which themes are Double Date Night themes. For Double Date Nights themes, we encourage other ships to be featured along with Byler (but it's not required)!

amazing art by @light-lanterne!!

Here are some additional ideas that you can use as inspiration for each day's themes! You don't need to follow these prompts at all, but feel free to jump off of these ideas.

Day 1 - Ghosts & Hauntings, Trapped in the UD, Haunted House:

Ghosts & Hauntings - Mike and Will move into their first home together... but it's haunted. Ghost!Will haunts Mike, or Ghost!Mike haunts Will. Ghost movie AU. Young Mike and Will hide from a scary ghost in the closet or under the bed. A midnight stroll through a graveyard goes wrong.

Trapped in the UD - “It’s like home, but it’s so dark. It’s so dark and empty. And it’s cold!” Mike, Will, or both are trapped in the Upside Down this Halloween.

Haunted House - Creaking floors, spiderwebs, skeletons, and spiders! Mike and Will break into the scary, abandoned house down the street, only to run away when there's a creepy noise coming from the attic. Did Mike and Will get part time jobs as monster actors at the Hawkins Haunted House this October, or are they just going to the Haunted House as guests? Double Date Night: we encourage you to feature other ships with this theme!

Day 2 - Slashers, Gore & Body Horror, Demogorgon & the Flesh Monster, Halloween Party

Slashers, Gore & Body Horror - Slasher movie AU’s. Serial killer Byler, cannibalism Byler, or Frankenstein Byler.

Demogorgon & Flesh Monster - Looking back at our S1 and S3 monsters! The demogorgon or flesh monster are on the prowl and looking for victims this Halloween.

Halloween Party - What costumes are Mike and Will wearing to the party? Who has a few drinks, gets a little extra silly, and starts some drama? What feelings bubble up at the party? Loud music and dancing, spilled drinks, drunken confessions, and kissing in the dark corner of the room. Double Date Night: we encourage you to feature other ships with this theme!

Day 3 - Demons, Devils & Exorcisms, Will’s S2 Possession, Pumpkin Patch & Apple Orchard

Demons, Devils & Exorcism - Will and Mike make a deal with the devil. Demon x Exorcist enemies to lovers AU. Exorcism movie AU.

Will’s S2 Possession - Looking back the scenes of Will saying ominous things, not remembering the names of his loved ones, Mike sitting by Will’s bedside in the hospital, and the shed scene. What if Mike had been possessed instead of Will? What if Mike and Will were already dating in S2 when Will was possessed?

Pumpkin Patch & Apple Orchard - Picking out the biggest pumpkin at the pumpkin patch, carving pumpkins, baking pumpkin treats, and wearing ugly pumpkin sweaters. Getting lost in the apple orchard, climbing trees together, picking apples, drinking apple cider. Riding the hay bale and sneaking kisses.

Day 4 - Psychological Horror, Attacked by Vecna, Sweater Weather

Psychological Horror - Ramp up the horror, terror, paranoia, and fear! Psychological horror movie AU.

Attacked by Venca - Looking back at our S4 villain, and the horror filled visions he uses to attack his prey. Vecna returns on Halloween this year.

Sweater Weather - Everyone wants to cuddle up once the weather gets colder! Mike and Will start wearing their cozy sweaters and flannels. Falling leaves, hot cocoa, bonfire nights, smores, and camping.

Day 5 - Came Back Wrong, Flayed!Mike & Flayed!Will, Carnival Night

Came Back Wrong - Resurrecting your beloved childhood friend and sweetheart from death comes with a price... they're not the same now as they were before. A call back to good ol' Phineas Gage.

Flayed!Mike & Flayed!Will - Rethinking S3 if Mike or Will were flayed. Suspicions are raised and fear mounts: Mike or Will aren't quite acting like themselves and it's a fight to rescue them from their gruesome fate!

Carnival Night - Will and Mike play carnival games and go on rides. Bobbing for apples, getting lost in the corn maze, face painting, and feasting on carnival food. Double Date Night: we encourage you to feature other ships with this theme!

Day 6 - Supernatural Creatures, Trick or Treat, Freak (2x02), Trick or Treating

Supernatural Creatures - Vampires, and werewolves, and monsters, oh my! Mike and Will encounter a supernatural creature this Halloween, but is it friend or foe? Will as a werewolf, Mike as a vampire, Will as a goblin, Mike as a centaur? The options are endless! Monster x Monster Hunter AU.

Trick or Treat, Freak (2x02) - A look back on our beloved Halloween episode. Mike is complaining about Max, Will sees the Mind Flayer looming in the sky, and Mike takes Will home. Crazy together, right?

Trick or Treating - Mike and Will take Holly out trick or treating. Adult Mike and Will hand out candy. The early years of Mike and Will trick or treating with the party, TP-ing a bully’s house, and swapping candy afterward at home.

Day 7 - Witches, Wizards & Necromancy, D&D, Renaissance Festival

Witches, Wizards & Necromancy - Witch covens, a trickster wizard, or a necromancer raising zombies from the dead! A witch hunter falls in love with a witch, or Zombie Boy comes back to life.

D&D - Paladin Mike and Will the Wise celebrate the spooky season! Redecorate the Will the Wise costume with some Halloween vibes, or alter Will's S4 painting of the party to give it a spooky twist.

Renaissance Festival - Dressing up as knights, fairies, wizards, and more! The knights are jousting, everyone is eating a turkey leg, and Mike and Will are playing ax throwing games. Entertainers are juggling swords, fire eating, and putting on raunchy comedy skits. Are Mike and Will attending as guests, or working at the Renaissance Festival this fall? Double Date Night: we encourage you to feature other ships with this theme!

#byler #bylerween2023 #themes #mod post #day 1 #day 2 #day 3 #day 4 #day 5 #day 6 #day 7 #d&d #2023 guidelines

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