#bg3 verse

[th-ramblr]

@trasshflow ((moved over here to answer since this is my Kytes blog))

I didn't expect to wake up to this today for sure but I'm glad I did! The first thing I did is run to show and tell Rune's creator and both of us really love it! The armor and sky came out especially good, very shiny! (better than I probably could have done with it lolol I'm very bad with making metals look good)

I'm really glad you're enjoying Squidhawk, much less enough to make fanart over it! Honestly I think that's the best compliment any fic writer can get :D

Definitely look forward to more because there's going to be more chapters incoming (just as soon as I get my lazy ass to write). There's definitely a lot more planned for these guys and other characters as well! Thanks a ton. We love it!

[soundlessroom-archive]

"If you've never been spoon-fed love, you learn to lick it off knives. And watch my tongue, eager to dull the blade."

Their circus work is dangerous. But the adrenaline and applause is intoxicating enough for Ceres.

[undyingmedium]

🥀 romance headcanons

Stolen from: @dxnse-macabre Hi~ Tagging: @steel-and-fire @witches-and-weirdos @aquatic-hybrid @deepseawarlock @deaddoveadventures @sanguine-law @windwithinmyveins and whoever else wants to do this!

name: Anika Fuhe

nickname: Someone called her Ani before

gender: Female

romantic orientation: Bisexual

preferred pet names: Darling, dearest, sweetheart

relationship status: single

opinion on true love: *Insert Harleep laugh here* "Love. What a sweet poison, and what a trap it can be. Love among family is the only one that never got snuffed out before to me; one I never got betrayed for. I tried friendships, I tried romance, more or less deep. It never lasts, and sometimes it leaves void behind when it goes. It was also my fault, sure; but not only mine. So, does true love exist, really? I have my doubts, and I certainly don't believe in it. But alas, everyone can have their own honeyed opinion about it."

opinion on love at first sight: "Oh dear, that's not love. That's attraction, and it's usually the surface cover for the call of flesh!"

how ‘romantic’ are they?: Despite her bad experiences and twisted opinions, she's actually pretty romantic. She likes to make those moments special, she likes to leave marks that her partner won't forget - and hopefully stay marked herself. Some old memories still make her sigh, and she will pursue romanticism even in lesser occasions. She can never know if she's going to have another chance at playing like that again.

ideal physical traits: Clean, lively eyes, intriguing smiles. Bonus points for stronger builds than hers and taller people, so that they can carry her around. Extra bonus points for wings, horns and exotic ancestries - from nephilims to genasi (to eclysians *COUGH*) - as long as they keep mostly humanoid traits, or at least visages. Extra extra bonus points for long hair.

ideal personality traits: Discreet when it counts, otherwise outgoing, confident, ambitious - even arrogance can be interesting to a degree. But to her? Protective, respectful, reliable, trustworthy, patient. There has to be a strong chemistry, or she won't budge beyond the physical benefits.

unattractive physical traits: Dirty/smelly, too disproportioned builds, extreme wrinkles or moles, small and inexpressive eyes. She's not against the undead, but rotting bodies are a no-no for multiple reasons. There would have to be an exceptional relationship with someone that is a zombie or a skeletal someone for things to work despite that.

unattractive personality traits: Too self-centered or narcissistic, too shy or insecure, too proud. They can go kiss a mirror.

ideal date: Dinner in quiet, private places; candlelit rooms with soft pillows and some exotic incense burning; strolls through the night, out in the midst of nature or isolated town neighborhoods - somewhere where not even ghosts may reach her and her partner. Secrecy and intimacy give her enough space to bloom, to not worry about the rest of the world and make herself a little more vulnerable. Assuming it's worth it.

do they have a type?: Not really, but she's got a strong tendency towards women.

average relationship length: I doubt her relationships ever even reached six months... Maybe one or two at max?

preferred non-sexual intimacy: Hand holding, complicit looks, occasional pecks and hugs. Nothing too flashy, but meaningful nonetheless.

opinion of public affection: It's okay as long as it's not something exaggerated. Too much sugar, involving her or other couples, and she may start to spit acid.

past relationships?: Her first was with an aviari woman, Xilla, but it was obviously not meant to last due to her strong tie to her nomad tribe and Anika's mission leading her elsewhere. Ferenir was her second and last; they had something she believed in more, but complications arose pretty quickly, then he decided to leave her and she lost faith in others on a much deeper level.

[marionmaverick]

@darlingdesiredelicious from here "A-About...?" It's like he suddenly can't breathe. Well he can't really breathe anyway on account of being a vampire, but! "About us? What? What about us?"

___

Calem doesn't comment on the vampire's sudden nervous manner. He's been around Sebastian long enough now to expect it. Instead he just smiles and leans against him. The school skin feels nice against his own.

"I've been thinking I like us," He admitted. "At first it was just kind of a game, just indulging my curiosity and playing around with affection."

He doesn't look at Sebastian. He seems preoccupied with fiddling about instead.

"I think I would like it to be more," He said. "I find myself looking forward to visiting you more and more. I get to just be myself around you. It's nice."

[frost-eyed-autumn]

{--AGGRESSIVE HEAVY BREATHING.--}

[crowtongued]

@fangsanddaggers ;;

Amidst the smoking rubble, the first thing to reach his senses was the sound of rushing water; alien flesh and metal groaning its last death-throes as pillars of hot smoke snaked their way towards the heavens and tainted the air with their acrid stench.

He felt the heat of sunlight beat down against his skin and soak into his clothing, the unsteady shift of sand underneath him trying to creep into gaps in his armor as he started to find his bearings.

The place that his eyes opened unto was unfamiliar - canyons of arid rock cut through by the steady flow of a river wider than the illithid ship that had crashed, topped with dry trees and scraggly scrubs. Not at all an environment he traipsed through often, if at all.

He felt unsteady on his feet, an unusual sensation for him, but stranger still was the squirm and coil of the intrusive parasite behind his eye, which he shut in a small grimace as he rested a palm over it.

Unpleasant, and unplanned... but one step at a time. First he had to get a better idea for where he was, which would tell him where he needed to go.

Magic wove around his fingertips, and from what little shadows managed to cling to the beach came a small flock of crows, some that perched on him, others that landed on the thin, bouncing branches of a tree scorched dead and bare.

"Search." A simple word that had the birds scattering every which way up the path and around the rubble of the ship, scouting the wreckage and the way forward for what he could expect.

Much as he was tempted to Wildshape himself, he didn't think it wise with how disoriented he was, much less into a flying creature. The inside of his skull still burned with a nasty headache, his eye still shut even as he moved his palm from it and started to walk.

_____

Company wasn't far, it seemed, though civilization still wasn't within sight. Still, he could do worse than a heavily-armored woman who clearly knew her way around a tough situation. It didn't hurt she also knew her way around a weapon and shield and a few handy spells.

Most other things even vaguely human-shaped were mutilated beyond recognition and had long lost a pulse, scattered among the wreckage, but it seemed the two of them weren't the only survivors, as one of his birds came back to report.

Picking their way past recently-smashed Intellect Devourers, the belly of the ship opened up upon another shattered beach that inclined a bit uphill. Just off the side of the path, his eyes spied one of those illithid pods thrust into the landscape, the rounded window of it shattered open like eggshell and vacant.

And just ahead, a rather unusual figure of pale complexion and even paler hair...

And wings.

[voidtouched-blue]

Plotted starter for @luposcainus

It was peculiar for the wind to feel so cold on such a warm summer's day. The mountains maintained a relative temperate breeze to welcome all travelers into it's evergreen boughs, but none had cut through to chill the bone quite like the gust on this day. Perhaps it had been the unnatural quiet that surrounded stumbling steps through the muddied path, or the sinking sunlight that cast blades of light through the shroud of the trees that had added to the unsettling feeling on the air; though the setting had been a display of peace and tranquility, the scene had been nothing more than a façade.

There was no comfort to be held in the warmth of day.

Cyra's trembling form rushed down the puddled path unsteady in every step. The single sounds of her own feet slapping the mud were quickly followed by the thunderous chorus of the predators giving chase to the bloodied woman. Her breath was heavy, wheezing. Her heart pounded against the walls of her chest, wrenching a panicked whine with every exhale. The muscles in her thighs ached. It was a single moment of hearing the shouts behind her, turning her head for a single second to-

-to find herself without breath, and with hands sunk deep into the mud.

She grunted, quickly trying to reason with herself to explain the way the ground seemed to rise up to meet her. The thin woman didn't remember the way her legs seemed to tangle together as she fell. Yet, her concerns had quickly shifted as the group trailing behind her had spilled forth from the thicket. Each one adorned in identical robes with a peculiar symbol embroidered upon the breast of their tabards. They watched as her hands scattered the mud, leaving frantic trails with each desperate attempt to scramble back to her feet. Every attempt to gain purchase in the viscous sea of dirt had done nothing more than add to the fear of a helpless animal.

That short moment of fear had cost her. Turning to face her fate, she watched with cautious gaze as they kept their distance. The five of them stood as silent statues overlooking the soul that awaited judgement.

Cyra had been many things by this point in her life. She had filled many roles, and performed many tasks upon commanded request of others. But she had yet to fully submit to the unfortunate circumstance of the path she had been dragged down by the will of the Gods. Faith may have abandoned her, but the instinct of self-preservation had remained unshakeable. She would survive this by any means necessary.

"The Lord has cast his punishment upon you for your crime." One of the faceless men spoke up, though she could not identify who as their mouths had been hidden behind masks.

"The Great One has gifted you this life- granted you this role to serve his chosen."

"Yet you still refuse to accept that the tapestry has already been woven."

"As all souls have been spun as thread under His hand, your body and breath has purpose -even in defiance- in His written passage."

"Such mutiny cannot continue without reply," they spoke as though each individual had been of one mind. Their declaration and judgement coming to a conclusion had prompted the five figures to group closer together. They stepped forward to approach their mark, and in near-perfect unison, their words chimed as one:

"So it is Spoken, so it is Written, so it is Woven- and so it shall Be."

It was then that Cyra tightened her grip around the hidden knife in the mire. Terror had dulled the look in her eyes, leaving her blind of the hope that had once granted her courage. There was no escaping the faithful in their 'holy duty'. She could only wait for the dream of her painted prayer to grant her that freedom she so desired. The path of the faithless had been dark, but the ebbing call of crimson had become the only glow to illuminate her path. And so, she decided that the only salvation for this pitiful creature was the bloody baptism at the end of the blade.

The speed of her movement had surprised even herself as she lurched up from the silt that congealed around her. The muddied blade arced through the air before the thirsting metal had met flesh. Just as she felt the first warmth of life spill over her fingers, the sensation returned as she drew the blade from its prey.

Despite her swift action, that quickness was not enough to stall the doomed man before her. The four others had moved in with uncanny synchronization; each one filling a role for the task of subduing their prize. One had quickly stepped behind her as she rose to meet her target, raising his gloved hands to catch her free hand at the wrist and twist her arm behind her. The second had pulled a pair of shackles from his belt, ready to adorn the girl in the iron bracelets the moment the opportunity presented itself. The third unsheathed his own blade from its scabbard, the light glinting off the metal as it danced upward to slip between her palm and the stolen knife well seated in his companion. The fourth had stepped behind the fifth, who had the misfortune of finding her violent answer in his gut, to pull the wounded to safety.

Cyra felt the breath leave her body as the the first zealot had acted the instant she released her grip on her weapon. Her arm twisted behind her, and he violently tangled his gloved fingers into her hair. Once he had a grasp of the slave woman, his feet pivoted in the mud and he pushed her with his weight to the ground. With his hand still in control of her head, she felt his knee press into her back with his full body leaning into it.

She gasped, feeling the second quickly rush over to clamp that cold metal around her restrained wrist once more. It was then that she felt that stab of instinct call for command over her limbs. Without warning, she twisted. The woman felt her shoulder pop unnaturally as the trapped animal within offered its own reply with perfect diction. It had no care for any injury sustained in struggle; it had but a singular intent, and that was to fight.

Somewhere in the struggle, she had used the chained shackles as an improvised flail to bludgeon two of the zealots as she regained her footing. Parts of her memory had vanished, leaving her in wonder of how she had been able to manage fleeing from them once more.

Cyra had taken off running the moment she was free of their vice-like grip on her body. Blinded by both fear and terror, she had failed to notice the figure that had come into her path until she had mere seconds to react. She flexed, managing to shift her weight in the last instant to turn and spin around the stranger. However, her quick action had thrown her off balance, sending the partially-shackled slave careening into the brush. Stunned only for a few seconds after impact, she grunted and groaned as she attempted to return to her feet. Between the gash that wept bloody tears in her palm, and the opposite shoulder held tenderly against her side, her efforts had been met with nothing but failure.

"Please..." she whispered. "Let me go."

[sylksheeeee-a]

so I was seeing the combat type posts for bg3 muses & like , idk , is it horrible that i feel like Ani wouldn't be in combat ? she'd be at the camp prepping for when everyone gets back for the day. she just is so averse to hurting people ( her way of defying Czernabog still , so that he doesn't get any souls from her ) & she'd be more useful post-battle soothing , meal prepping & seal snuggling.

[pellelavellan]

very very basic details of a BG3 Verse for Pelle

I am gonna work out the smaller details with time and help from friends who are avid dnd players but have some basic things <3

name: Pelle Sibil

Druid Circle: Circle of the Land

age: 110-115

class: druid

specializations: medicine, arcana

alignment: chaotic good

Basic backstory:

Pelle is the youngest child of the head a druidic circle and was the only child of hers that possessed any talent as a druid. As a result he has been under her tutelage since childhood. They were very close his entire life, and he had a pretty good childhood. His Circle worked with surrounding settlements and people by providing protection from the dangers of forest and advanced medicine.

Everything was going...for years stretching far beyond his mother's life and then things changed. The people surrounding them bega behaving strangely, becoming sick, and a number of abnormal things. Dedicated to their pact to protect these people from unnatural forces ad beasts the druids began trying to learn what had blighted the people.

During this time the hold they had on the surrounding area was weakened--and this was taken advantage of. His home was raided by extremists of one of the dead 3. His mother and his partner were both killed in this attack. The survivors, including himself fled their home but did not really know where to go with the threat of the strange blight still very much present.

With his mother gone, he had to take on her position despite being inexperienced in the whole ordeal still having been a pupil to her. He ultimately decides he cannot solve or fix a problem that he does not understand and chooses to leave his people temporarily to better understand the present issue and hopefully come back with an answer.

[ode-of-odr-archive]

// Ras sitting around the campfire braiding flowers in the ladies' hair if they ask. The guys too if they want. They are not very good, but he is very proud.

[th-ramblr]

@iron-hearts-ablaze

These truly were becoming strange times indeed. Not because of getting yanked up into an alien spacecraft, or finding a nasty little brain-worm behind his eye that let him telepathically connect with other infected hosts, or having some weird man talking in his head that visited his dreams, or dealing with a crazy cult let by an immortal war-General. He'd gotten used to all these things by now and taken them as par for the course, just another knot in a long string of shitty luck throughout life that naturally had to fall on him.

No, the strangest thing in all of this was the company he kept finding himself in. However terribly mundane of a thing it was, for him, he'd never really found what he would call 'good company' until all this, and he still hesitated to think of it as such, even when he'd found people singing his praises or speaking up to vouch for him that he was 'one of the good ones', whatever that meant in all this mess.

Off and on, he'd crossed the paths of others similarly bound for a cure to these stupid tadpoles. Each time, he'd been determined to go his own way regardless of insistence that he team up, but the roads left to walk were narrowing and converging on one major point ; Moonrise.

And while this little tavern in a bubble wasn't Moonrise, it was close enough that he didn't have much room to complain about paths crossing once again. Even less so with the shadow-curse hungrily waiting just outside, choking the road against anyone who didn't possess a moonlantern from moving forward.

Right now, that consisted of only him and the stupid spider, which made him a much more popular topic than he wanted to be right now, but it couldn't be helped.

At the very least, this little den of Harpers and refugees had one positive thing to offer him -- a weapons' supplier and that Tiefling blacksmith who could set him up with some rather potent explosives to deal with the more dangerous threats and thicker crowds of enemies.

That that flaming Tiefling woman also had an interest in the services of the blacksmith was of little concern to him. Or at least it should have been, but out of all the oddities, that one was the highest.

It had been no planning of his, that he just happened to be there when the news was broken to her. That her flames would be better under control... but that her engine, her 'heart', was still doomed to fail her at any given moment. A matter of when, not if.

Normally, he wouldn't care. The plights of others had never been any concern of his, just as no one else cared for his troubles, or at best, all they felt was distant pity.

This, though...

For once, this was a unique kind of suffering he could relate to, more than he was strictly comfortable with, but the situation was what it was. Most of his childhood, he'd heard and been told how his weak heart would sputter out and fail him, that he'd die a young and premature death and there was nothing to be done to change it. It was a miracle he'd made it this far in life, as he'd often been told he likely wouldn't even survive to adulthood, but each day he survived, that threat of it being his last day loomed ever larger in his mind, its shadow growing longer, knowing that his time was rapidly counting down.

It was... a lonely feeling, always having that knowledge in the back of his mind, and knowing that no one else around him could understand it even if he tried to speak of it. Even his dream visitor, much as Kytes had come to confide in him, couldn't really understand it.

Maybe that's what brought him drifting closer after she broke away from the rest to be alone, despite that he'd normally never entertain even the thought of her company, his steps phantom-light as he habitually approached from an angle of least visibility and came to stop in her blind spots.

For a few beats, he was silent, his face giving a small twitch, his fingers loosely fidgeting with uncertainty. He debated stepping away to disappear again before she could become aware of him, the thought of interaction still one that intimidated him, but his voice ultimately won out before he could make up his mind on leaving, spoken soft and tentative.

"Are you alrigh'?"

[fxllen-rxse]

New Verse

Guide My Way || Baldur's Gate Verse

Kojiro James Stormfall 

Appearance 

Height: 6’1

Eyes: Emerald and Ruby red (Heterochromia)

Hair: Near shoulder length, Lavender 

Age: 25 (when turned), 125 (current)

Gender: Cis Male

Orientation: Bisexual

Race: Half-elf, Half-human

Class: Rogue

Sub Class: Arcane trickster

Noble to Charlatan, Vampire spawn

Background (Entirely headcanon based and still work in progress)

**Trigger warning for abuse mention below**

Kojiro comes from a noble family with immense wealth and power. He is the only son born to his parents, Jadzia (Human) and Trevalyn (High Elf), making him the sole heir to their empire.

From the beginning, Kojiro had ambitions for other things like art, dancing, and theater, but it was heavily frowned upon by his parents. For as long as he could remember, he was groomed to carry on his family’s empire. He was taught basic fighting skills and learned to use crossbows, which he found that he was actually somewhat decent at and enjoyed. Eventually, he had found that he was able to conjure fire, but kept it secret from his parents. He tried his best to learn how to master it in secret, but only managed to start somewhat major fires. He still has yet to be able to control this ability to its full potential. 

Throughout his life, Kojiro has constantly struggled with his identity. Though he has always identified as male, he does find that he rather enjoys the fact that he has the looks that allow him to pass as female. To the point where he wished he had the choice to choose, but his parents forbid it. Wanting to keep a clear image of strength and power. Anything else was viewed as weakness to them.

Both of his parents were not the most nurturing and caring. In fact, quite the opposite. One misstep could end up painful for Kojiro. Be it by his father's fist or some nearby blunt object he could find. His mother, while not as fierce as her husband, took on a more verbal approach. Berating Kojiro constantly if he so much as breathed a word of resistance. Both of them went to great lengths to ensure that Kojiro would not be an embarrassment to them or anyone else.

To ensure the line continues, his parents arranged for him to marry a woman named Rumika. Being that he knew of no other way of life to live, he remained loyal to his parents and went along with this. 

At the time, Kojiro knew next to nothing of the woman he was to marry. Only that she was also from a wealthy and powerful family. Unbeknownst to him, she was a vampire. A secret he would not discover until it would be much too late.

Rumika has a twin sister named Musashi. The sisters are both vampires. While the secret was kept from Kojiro until he was turned, Rumika desired wealth and power while Musashi simply wanted a better life, to try and live normally, and to finally be happy. 

She was viewed as the weaker of the twins. She enjoyed things that Rumika did not and, if she were the one chosen to marry Kojiro, would have simply given him a choice rather than force him into something he didn’t want. 

Because of her dominant demeanor, Rumika became the one arranged to marry Kojiro, but he actually grew more fond of her twin. In secret, he would spend more time with her and grew to care for her. She made him feel more comfortable with himself and who he actually wanted to be, which was heavily frowned upon by his parents. All in all, Musashi made him feel wanted and like he was actually worth something for the first time in his life. 

Musashi knew of the arrangement for Kojiro and Rumika. There was a part that she was not supposed to know, but overheard one night. Rumika would turn Kojiro to secure her hold on him, ultimately uniting the wealth and power of the two families. So she made a plan to try and prevent this from happening with someone she once considered a friend, Lady Yamato, but she would betray her. Sold her out to her twin, who took full advantage of the situation. Musashi was captured, as was Kojiro. After Rumika turned him, she then managed to slay her twin in front of him. 

Once he was turned, there was a period of time where Kojiro did not remember what happened afterwards. While he did manage to escape from Rumika, he later found out that his family’s estate had been burned and destroyed. Leaving him to wonder if he was the one who did it using the fire ability that he still was not able to control. 

Even though he had escaped, Rumika was alive and still had a powerful grasp on him. Not only could she torment him mentally, but she would always be hunting for him wherever he may end up.

When he was turned, Kojiro’s appearance did not change much except he was a little more pale and that somehow one of his eyes became a blood red color while the other remained emerald. He had little knowledge of vampire spawn to begin with. So he had learned the hard way very quickly that he was not fond of the daylight or that he now had a thirst for blood that he needed to sate. He had also apparently taken a couple weapons from his home before it was destroyed. He had a crossbow and a custom made dagger that once belonged to Musashi, which in his eyes is the only thing he has left of her.

As a side note: Much similar to the normal Team Rocket/Pokemon verse, Kojiro is still a gentle natured person despite years of torment. Though as a vampire spawn, he does exhibit a hint of cynical behavior from time to time. He’s also a thief as a means of survival, but he’s not very good at it. He is, however, good at stealth and can somehow manage to get himself out of complicated situations… usually, anyway.

[undyingmedium]

⚔️ Emperor~

Bonus || Battle Music: Vibranium - Evolving Sound

Battle intro: "I hate that the others were right, but I have to admit that my trust was misplaced. Gods damn it." Victory: "You had chosen your allies well, had you not?" Defeat: "At least I didn't die to just any Mindflayer..." Assist: "Let's finish this together." Taunt: "You'll make a fine squid salad once we're done." Reacting to Taunt: "Are you all taunts and mind games now?" Tie: "Two minutes truce! Shall we go on after?" Perfect Victory: "Make way to the new heroes. Your time is past."

[marionmaverick]

“Devils just die if you kill them in their own realm?” Calem asked, “Awesome!! Voidsent are immortal that makes things with Raphael much easier.”

[frost-eyed-autumn]

{--Anyway I'm just sayin' that Baldur's Gate 3 Chuuya is a Tiefling with short spiky horns and his favorite thing to use them for is headbutting Dazai in the stomach and trying to gore him like an angry goat.--}

[agent-jaselin]

Companion L'Calem's tent is like a magpie nest exploded. Lots of shiny things of varying worth dangling off the awning and in the interior canopy reflecting light, and roughly a thousand pillows and blankets and rugs of different colors. Also a hammock he can be found lounging in and reading from in idle animations. (His other one is batting at a bird. bit like Shadowheart messing with the cube but more catty)

He mostly reads nonfiction books about how Faerun works, so that's how he knows some things like what Shar is.