#but also tyr cool

[tothesolarium]

I got all these cool mech designs, or story filled weird divine metal designs

But my brain

Wants to draw a scary lying pretty man

[ganymede-g]

tiny hafnar being a happy lil guy with two parents who aren’t decidedly dead and unfairly incarcerated

[tiredassmage]

what type of villain are you?

your honor, i do love a good uquiz diagnosing the diseases and problems of my fictional characters and also i might be slightly procrastinating a final paper. saw this one from @sasslett and simply could not resist :3 quiz link! for those who'd like.

swtor edition first!

tyr deckard - then let me be evil

You never wanted to hurt anyone, but the world never gave you a choice. You did the best you could with what you had, but every innocent mistake you made was held against you when it counted, every crossroads led you down the wrong path no matter which way you went. No matter what you did, the odds were stacked against you. It wasn't fair, and you are sick and tired of being told what a monster you are for things out of your control. Well, fine. They want a monster? YOU'LL GIVE THEM A MONSTER!

alucren ellery - the betrayer

You like to do things up close and personal. As personal as you can get. You are an excellent actor, and you do adore putting on a smile knowing your worst enemy, the one you hate the most, doesn't suspect a thing when they tell you their deepest secrets. Your only motivation is revenge, and revenge you shall get. Perhaps you loved them once, long ago, but any fondness for your target you once felt has long since warped and twisted into perverse obsession, laced with malice and venom and seething hatred. Good or evil does not matter to you. All that matters is they get what they deserve.

leo ashold - the coward

You didn't have another choice, honest! Have these people SEEN what the heroes are up against? It'd end you in an instant, whether that be a lovecraftian abomination with a hold on your soul, a rampaging monster that's destroying more than a hurricane and an earthquake could in one fell swoop, a shadow organization that has tabs on everyone you love and will end them in an instant, or just a particularly grumpy boss that might yell at you if you don't fall in with his excessively tyrannical methods, you can't go risking your neck for the poor saps that think they can stop it. No way, you're staying on the bad guy side, where it's SAFE.

rhyst delavast - for the greater good

Perhaps you do not believe what you are doing can truly be classified as evil. Perhaps some people will be hurt from the immediate consequences of your actions, but what the masses fail to see is the immense good that will come of your plans. Maybe you act in the name of science, or for your people who have fallen on great tragedy. Maybe you see cracks in a failing system and want to uproot it through chaotic, destructive means to avoid greater tragedy down the line. Maybe you're just in with a bad crowd, but you can't leave them, no matter how unsavory their intentions, because they're your only ticket to your ultimate goals. No matter what, your goals are noble, and you take no joy in wreaking havoc or hurting those in your way, but the evils you partake in are necessary. If you need to play the bad guy to ensure a better future, then you are willing to play that part.

savosta - no moral compass

You are cold, analytical, and you strive to be as objective as a person of flesh and blood can be. Either don't understand the concepts of good and evil, or you understand it perfectly and think it's a load of bull. Some may call you selfish, some may call you unfeeling, but you're just doing what you believe will yield the best results, plain and simple. Why bother with petty ideals of right or wrong when you can do what will actively help those you give a fuck about? Your goals may be selfish or noble or anything in between, but you will not let anyone make you feel like garbage for going after them. You couldn't care less about what people brand you as. You just care about getting shit done by any means necessary.

[bylertruther]

no one asked but thor's theme (aka the hand of odin & the hammer of thor, i think) from g0d of war ragnar0k is my favorite jam of the moment. Ur Welcome btw 10/10 track(s) i think u should listen to it if um. u like Good Sounds and such 👍

[moonbittern]

compiling a complicated reincarnation/mindwipe theory for god of war ragnarok that is 100% not going to be the ultimate truth

[raijinhasverybigpecs]

i mean i couldn't play smite for ixchel even if i wanted to on aus servers, for the birthday celebration the aus servers were dead all night

[mahoganyrust]

@frosti-moon “Both of them wearing (mostly) historically accurate Norse clothes? I love seeing how different artists design those.”

I may have gone overboard…messy in some places but that’s bc I was impatient to draw the frost idfk-

Here we have Chief Hiccup and Winter Spirit Jack

Nice throwback to my God of War days for inspo. Hiccup’s a bit of a mix of Kratos/Odin/Tyr while Jack is a mix of Baldur/Freya + Pandora from the old games.

I swear to all that is good, if someone calls him Jokul Frosti one more time I’m gonna rant- Actually fuck it ima rant in advance.

Ahem.

People really like the idea of Jack being “Jokul Frosti”, especially if they are exploring concepts with an old setting where Jack is further back in time. I loved it when I first came across it because duh pretty awesome. And ofc many believe that is where the name “Jack Frost” derived from. It’s cool. However, I have since done enough research to decide this isn’t very accurate.

In Norse mythology the God of wind and voice, Kari, has two sons. Some sources say otherwise and that it’s just one son - Jokul Frosti, but fuck that, my sources are older.

Kari has *two* sons - Jokul AND Frosti. They were two bros. Their names mean Icicle and Frost. Jokul went on to have a bunch of kids who were all very winter themed. It also makes more sense bc (especially in Norse stuff) it’s very odd to come across a mythological figure with two names. Think of all the gods you know, MOST are going by one. Plus it’s weird…like why is his name two things? Icicle Frost? What? Pick one. Brev it don’t make sense. It don’t add up. Most minor Norse gods are having just the one main brand right? (The big dogs like Odin, Freya, Freyr etc etc usually have side hustles tho, but we ain’t talking about them).

So what I think has happened is that somewhere down the line, probably through oral conversation, the two brothers and their names got merged into one person. Then after the merge, Jack Frost came about, hence our predicament.

Like- ya’ll do wut ya want but I personally think the Winter Twins are a better idea for our fan stuff. In my headcanon (and in my fic) they are more like Jack’s wacky adopted-uncle-types that left him their power after they kicked the bucket cos they thought he was a pretty cool mortal. Like Manny brought him back but like- so did they at the same time. Double whammy. Anyways. ✌️thanks for coming to my TEDtalk.

[shuttershocky]

So God of War Ragnarok's free DLC campaign is about Tyr turning Valhalla into a roguelike maze to train Kratos, then acting as the final boss of a run at the very end.

And at first it's played straight you know? Tyr has his sword and spear as you would expect from a Nordic god. But then you beat him once and the next time he appears it starts getting a little chuuni. He goes "I have a surprise for you. You're not the only one with weapons from far-off lands" and brings out a Macuahuitl (an Aztec club) and starts mixing it into his attacks.

It's really cool! But also from that point on you kinda get a feeling of where this is going.

The third time you fight Tyr, he brings out a pair of Khopesh (Egyptian sickle-swords) and starts comboing you. And now that you know swords are on the table, you know exactly where this is going.

The last time Kratos fights Tyr, he goes "I have one last thing to show you!" like it's not already obvious what the fuck he's going to bring out next. And sure enough, this fucking guy assumes a very familiar stance that he probably thinks looks really cool, and then he slowly pulls out a goddamn katana.

And the worst part is, man it is kinda cool to see the blades of chaos get thrown at Tyr in a full iai stance. Fuck.

[daydreaming-jessi]

“There’ve been many souls that have come and gone from the flock, some are just more memorable than others.”

Decided to doodle some cultists I’ve come up for in fics, had in my actual game, or a cool idea i came up with on the spot. Oh and Sozo and Webber are here too :D This is by no means the entirety of the cult, and there may be future followers that stand out too, but for now enjoy these guys. Feel free to ask about them I guess lmao

I will be putting down my written notes under a cut since they’re so small and scribbly ^^;

Brother Tyr, head priest, he/him: The Lamb's 3rd closest. Very stressed despite doing his job for 200 years. Tries and fails to be a peacekeeper in the cult. Tyr and Nari argue a lot.

Brother Narinder, head mortician, he/him: Don't piss him off. The Lamb's spouse. Best source of info on the crowns and outside world. Can do any job around the temple and will. When the Lamb isn't around.

Sister Merbre, temple organizer, she/her: Helob loves her. The main reason the temple runs when Lamb is gone. Has a surprising realist view. Everyone loves her. Romantic at heart.

Yeon, general worker, she/her: Has to let loose in demon form or else. Together with Julno. Friends with Narinder. Seeking absolution from her past crimes. 'Encouraged' Narinder to court Lamb.

Tyna, assistant mortician, they/them: Cult's head goth. Runs the slam poetry night. Also does piercings and tats.

Nanaon, retired missionary, she/her: One of the Lamb's most faithful. Insists she's not that old and can still work. One of the few mortals to earn the respect of both Deaths.

Firyn, farmer, he/him: A worker. Great with people and plants. Born after the fall of the Old Faith. Leshy's companion. Doesn't know the horrors yet. People tend to underestimate him.

Pura, general worker, she/they: Likes Firyn. Likes to manipulate things to her benefit. Doesn't like Leshy. Doesn't realize what being an ex-bishop means. Genuinely respects the Lamb.

Almer, refinery worker, he/him: Shamura's friend. Easy going. Wants a big family. A good confidant. Gives great hugs.

Grayden, silk sorter, they/them: Shamura's friend. Quiet but a beautiful singer. A shy pushover, but will snap.

Julno, farmer, he/him: Came with the 'coward' trait. Still scared of the Lamb, and Yeon's 'bestie' Narinder. Together with Yeon. Doesn't know her murderous urges.

Poppy, she/her: Best friends with Webber, youngest of the cult. Brave and tenacious Webber, he/them: Best friends with Poppy, youngest of the cult. Gentle and curious.

Dr. Sozonius, researcher, he/him: Amnesiac. Lamb is helping him find home. Extremely well educated about biology. Does not like the spider stalking him, or the mushroom.

Keeper, record keeper, she/him: Face is always obscured. Hates the Dark. Doesn't talk about his past. Has a strange locket that ticks. Always smells of salt.

Joobre, refinery worker/tailor, he/them: Loves working with silk. Has tea with Berith. Likes gold jewelry.

Thorty, bartender, he/him: Fights with Nari a lot. Short temper. Best with the drunks.

Bregrear, smith, he/him: Quiet. Knows his way around weapons. Old hat at this point. Hopes to retire in peace.

Harbre, smith apprentice/missionary, any pronouns: Hot tempered. Looks up to Bregrear. Married to Bathin, chases off suitors neither of them like. Longs to master their craft. Protective.

Anar, miner/lumberjack, he/him: Distrusting. Hard worker. Doesn't exactly trust the Lamb, but willing to give the cult a shot. Starts fights.

Fun-Gui, researcher assistant, they/them: Weirdly obsessed with Sozo. Self proclaims as his assistant. Other mushroomos don't like them. Always goopy and dripping.

Hajal, traitor, she/her: Left the cult. Status unknown.

[beetlethebug]

so we know that like, Kristen's whole deal is religion and such, right? I'm just kinda thinking about the other Bad Kids and the Gods. Maybe it's my own multi-deity pagan ass just wanting to consider what it would look like. (I'm using primarily Forgotten Realms Gods and my absolutely vague knowledge of them).

This got long so read under the cut ;u;

Gorgug is absolutely Garl Glittergold's favorite child. He loves the shenanigans. Do you think he starts connecting with Gruumsh when he starts connecting with his birth parents? Baby Gorgug leaving bits of metal and toys he accidentally broke on the altar the Thistlesprings' have in their workshop. Gorgug pre-artificer offering up the songs he makes as a tricky sort of "metal" working. Feeling a connection to Gruumsh in the heats of his rage, the nudge of a hand during his frenzy guiding him to the right target. Keeping bits of scrap from their enemies to melt down into his next artificing project. He also probably talks to Helm, sometimes, asking for guidance on how to best protect his friends. Gorgug has big protector energy.

Adaine who is, in a way, a deity in her own right, depending how revered the Oracle is. I don't know if Adaine would connect with Elvish gods, but she and Oghma vibe. I think that after the Bad Kids all talk and bond, Kristen makes a joke about her being a Gruumsh follower with her furious fist and so Adaine jokingly buys a pin to wear in offering. Jawbone also had a talk with her about sometimes it can help to talk to someone about your anxiety--whether that be a counselor or even the Gods, sometimes. Just Adaine praying to Gruumsh to have the strength to punch her anxiety in the face is very beautiful to me. Azuth is the god of wizards, so he and Adaine might vibe. Adaine feels like the type to vibe with the Gods mostly in jest; she talks to them sometimes, but they're silly little guys to her. Because of Tracker and Jawbone's lycanthropy, I think she either has a small shrine to Galicaea or has the biggest beef with her imaginable. Maybe a little bit of both.

Riz. God. I think once Riz meets his Father, he definitely like, sets up a little shrine to him. Ancestor work feels really important to Riz. He dedicates a lot of self-care things to his dad, I think. Mainly sleeping and drinking water. Does he do them? No. But it's the thought that counts. Riz is definitely the like, mundane acts of worship. Incorporating it into miniscule parts of his day that would go undetected unless you knew him and where to look. He also probably has some devotional jewelry to Yondalla; I think that Penny probably had a habit of repeating prayers while touching the beads of her bracelet (kind of like a Rosary) and that rubbed off on him, especially when she was babysitting him. The whole family also probably have at least some sort of worship to Tyr due to their connection to justice and law enforcement. I think Sklonda is more connected with some of the deities associated with Goblins, specifically Gruumsh (can you tell I love him?) and Maglubiyet. He prays to war gods to get through the absolute shitshow of Adventuring school. He and Adaine probably dedicate their research to Oghma.

Fig is really interesting because I feel like she is probably in the vein of demon work instead of divinity. Although I think that she unironically thinks Riz's dad is super cool so like, playfully worships him. Fig is the Bad Kid that I feel like collects all the different pieces of her friends and wears them proudly upon herself. She dedicates concerts to Kristen's new deity of the week. She sighs and asks Oghma for help on exams; she includes prayers to Gruumsh in her tracks. I feel like Fig also might have a tendency to like, worship the people in her life. She thinks they're so important and she cares about them so much. So she elevates them to the status of a God in her mind. They are invincible. They are young and powerful and the bonds they share are much, much magical then some God who pretends to be high and mighty. Her body is an altar--she wears jewelry and draws sigils and uses so much color magick. She is, in a way, a walking beacon to the gods, saying, "Look at us! We're just as good as you, and if you doubt it, then we'll kick your ass!"

Fabian Seacaster my beloved. This man follows his Father's footsteps for a long time. He worships Gods of the tempest, of the sea and sailing. Yondalla holds a special place in his heart. Riz nearly has a conniption when Fabian corrects him on a prayer to Yondalla, and the two of them bond about it. But once this man starts dancing, this man worships Corellon Larethian with his whole chest. He does a lot of his worship through dancing. Moving his body, getting in touch with his roots. Because of the fire elemental, he also does some like, elemental magic? But I think a lot of his forms of worship come through bodily experiences. Braving a storm, dancing in front of a crowd, making just the right maneuver to protect his friends in battle. Sometimes he and Fig and Gorgug will sit together and make devotional playlists!

[fanfiction-artist-prototype]

Absolute banger of a bg3 Tav idea;

Human Tav, noble background.

Middle child of a middling noble house that is keen on not sticking their nose in petty fights because being the middle ground has always benefited them the most. Neutrality is easy when nobody knows your true opinions.

However, their family are devout Bane worshippers, well established in the Baldurs Gate enclave, probably one of the main parties financing it.

This is a devotion paladin Tav; swearing their oath to Bane in a "swearing to uphold your ideals of gaining personal power and raining tyranny over all who stand in my way." But in a neutral kind of way.

They get taken by the nautaloid, tadpole in their head and story/game starts and boom.

None of the party ask who their oath is to, since they assumed its someone like Tyr or Lathander etc and Tav keeps their mouth shut by nobles worshipping Bane isn't *unheard of* however they're younger than Wyll having been off in their knighthood apprenticeship for a majority of the time theirs and Wylls time in the Gates High society would have overlapped, and don't want to risk it. Especially when they find out that the Absolute plot is ran by The Dead Three.

They can feel their oath SHAKING.

Ketheric dies, they recognised Gortash before he leaves and are like "Oh fuck I'm gonna have to fight my gods Chosen. Wait. Why the fuck did I not know this was going on?? My family bankrolled most of this probably?!?!" The Emperor is mysterious as shit reveals HE has beef with Gortash and Tav is like "shit shit shit". Dame Aylin and Isobel join camp. Arabella leaves ahead of everyone else.

Tav is just having a crisis bc they're gonna have to fight and potentially kill their sworn gods Chosen. And like. They're a Baneite. So it's all cool in the eyes of Bane bc if you can't keep your power you don't deserve it. But Karlach found out about Gortash and Tav is not feeling the vibes with everyone's opinions on the dead 3 and Baneites so they keep their trap shut.

After all Baneites are encouraged to hide their faith if it will lead to persecution. They hit Rivington and in the midst of meeting some Sharrans, finding bombs in Teddy bears and Orin trying to fuck around, a Baneite approaches.

They're disguised of course, but they know Tav, act as if Tav simply left for Paladin business and didn't get taken by their own chosen's secondary cult!

Tav goes alone (ish. The rest of the party watches from a distance with Jaheria and Halsin wildshaping into smaller animals for a better listen.) And basically gets told "the boss man told us to find you bc you pose a threat to him. He's kind of been trying to get us to put tadpoles in our heads. We'll help you kill him and put you in as the new figurehead. Since you've currently upheld Bane better because you're literally an armed uprising and gathering allies and shit. Also he's trying to make us work with Bhaalists. Yeah, even after the first bhaalspawn died. It sucks."

It's all coded language of course, but the party get enough. Tav's been chosen to depose a leader of a group they're in, an enemy faction is a tentative ally and neither side is happy about it. Fix this.

Tav doesn't mention anything. Again baneites hiding their faith and all that.

Then they get to Wyrmsrock. And they're in a hall full of Patriars and THEY are a Patriar technically and the only non-devil one so they have to be group representative and wouldn't you know it, it's Enver fucking Gortash as the new archduke.

Their boss. Their gods Chosen. The holder of one of the netherstones, the guy a sizeable portion of their own enclave wants then to replace. They can literally see Baneites in the room basically telling them with their eyes to kill him NOW.

And shit goes tits up bc Gortash makes reference to Tav being a baneite and saying how it's a shame they were away becoming a paladin since they were always so loyal and would have been a wonderful planner alongside Ketheric and the first Bhaalspawn.

Nobody talks for the rest of the coronation but Tav can FEEL the eyes digging into the side of their head especially when the others look away from away from Steelwatch killing the Patriars in attendance. Then they leave. Nobody talks still. Back at camp shit goes tits up again.

This is the 11th hour TAV why is you being a baneite coming up now!? To which they respond it never really had a good time nor beneficial reason to come up since it's not exactly going to stop them from doing what needs to be done.

The whole camp devises a Tav centric version of the "convince shadowheart with a +10 charisma boost and the power of friendship not to go down the path of a dark god" plan.

[konansock]

Custom Club Activities (Sixth Release/ For Rent Release)

OK, so this mod is finally updated with several new activities in latest packs, as weel as some requests.

New Activities

Base Game

Care for Infants

Window Shopping (Supports Thrift Store, Tyr on outfits on Mannequin and Cottage Living Shells! As well as multiple browse interaction on food stalls and sales table. Time for those non-buyers to shine!)

Cool Kitchen

Make and Eat Ice Cream (Supports Cool Kitchen and High School Years Stalls so you can create a pier hangout club)

Spa Day

Relax on Massage Chairs

Offer Massages

Get Foot Massage

Get Body Massage

Take Soak Baths

Polish Nails

Snowy Escape

Attend Light Festival

Attend Youth Festival

Buy Simmi Capsules

Cottage Living

Harvest Farm Products

High School Years

Ride Pier Attractions

Drink Bubble Tea

Use Photo Booth

Growing Together

Play In Treehouse

Play On Splash Pad

Pillow Fight (Had to put it here instead of HSY, since the icon is here)

Horse Ranch

Ride Horses

Use Horse Obstacles

Be Friendly to Horses

Be Mean to Horses

Craft Ranch Nectar

Drink Ranch Nectar

Harvest Prairie Grass

Home Chef Hustle

Bake Pizza

Make Waffles

Make Prepped Ingredients

For Rent

Snoop On Others

Spread Mold

Spread Spores

Clean Mold (This is surprisingly not included in Clean, so may as well. Also works if you want to make your Sims NOT clean mold...)

Updated Activities

Base Game

Attend to Babies and Care for Toddlers include interactions from Growing Together

Gossip, Listen to Stories, Tell Stories and Complain include new interactions in High School Years and Growing Together

Charity, Game Livestream and Use Social Media included new interactions.

Critic and Food Stalls include new Food Stalls, as well as Home Chef Hustle Food Table. (Yes if you invite a Foodie Club over your food sale, they'll buy your food! Quick money!)

Go Shopping include purchase interactions in newer packs

Friendly Ghost includes the fertilize interaction in For Rent Mold Ghosts!

Haunt includes Spreading Mold by Mold Ghosts!

Parent Kid Activities include Infant activities.

Photography includes Photo Booth and Photo Background in High School Years

Use Toilet included squatting toilet in For Rent

Cats and Dogs

Be Friendly/Mean to Animals includes Horses, goats and sheep

Critic Food include new Food Stalls

Attend Festivals include Light Festival and Youth Festival in Snowy Escape now

DOWNLOAD HERE or HERE

More Details HERE

[vagabondfandoms]

Falls on Me

Day Two: Afternoon

Rating: Teen (For this Chapter)

Previous Chapters:

Day One: Night 2. Day Two: Morning

Characters: Gale Dekarios, F!Tav: Copper, Karlach and Astarion appear at the end, and Lae'zel, Wyll Ravengard, and Shadowheart are mentioned.

Warnings: N/A, Gale POV, Mentions of chronic pain

Gale asks for the Sword of Justice and ends up with a debate.

---

The pings of pain that usually exist in his body at all times since he got cursed with the orb were increasing in intensity. 

“Soon.” Gale thinks, “He’ll need to absorb a magical item soon.”

At first, Gale was apprehensive about acquiring magical items for his condition. He couldn't predict what kind of people he was traveling with. Were they kind souls who would give up a rare magical item for an ailing wizard? Or ones that hoard their treasures like dragons in a deserted dwarf stronghold on top of a lonely mountain?

In general people on the Material Plane are very… well, materialistic. Gale couldn't really blame them. This world is harsh and you have to have some sort of gumption to get anything in it. Or be lucky enough to be born with it. 

Gale considers himself one of the lucky ones. His father was a well-off shipping mogul in Waterdeep. While Gale was an illegitimate child, his father didn't balk at his duties to take care of his blood at least financially. 

And to be fair, his father could have adored his youngest son but Gale just can't remember. His dad died when he was 10 years old and Gale only has hazy recollections of the man. Most of those memories involved his dad stopping over at his mother's house bearing gifts. Being a little kid he can only remember the joy of receiving the gift and not the reaction from the giver. 

Gale was hoping somebody in his new party was a giver and after spending a day with his new “friends” he had a pretty good guess on who. 

Copper, the Ilmateri monk was both physically strong and tactically minded but also a firm devotee to her god’s tenets of compassion, respect, and willingness to go without. 

While all of Gale's other companions (including himself) picked over the camping supplies to make their personal tents as cozy as possible. The monk just threw together a makeshift tarp held up with sticks and called it good.

Gale was 90% sure that Copper would be willing to go without a magical item in her sack if he asked. He just needs to find the right time between battling goblins, spiders, and people posing as Paladins of Tyr. 

---

They just finished dispatching a small band of goblins dragging a terrified owlbear cub to their outpost in an old temple of Selûne when Gale saw his chance to ask Copper for a magical item.

Everybody else was either busy examining the owlbear cub they just saved or looting the corpses for items when Gale casually made his way over to Copper who was rummaging through her pack.

“Tiring business, isn’t it?” Gale starts. “All this traveling and adventuring.”

Copper looks up at him in surprise, apparently not expecting anybody to talk to her. “Are you tired already?” She stands up, guzzling some water, looking over at him from around the bottle.

“Well, maybe a little,” Gale says half truthfully. “But I was hoping for the chance to talk to you about something, well, rather important.”

Copper’s eyes narrow by a fraction and if Gale wasn’t so invested in starting this conversation he might have missed it. His nerves start to flutter in his stomach. “What if she says no?”

“Consider this a break.” Copper shrugs and tosses Gale her water bottle. “Drink some water, it’s hot out here, and tell me what’s ailing you.”

“Ailing me, ha. If she only knew.” Gale thinks as he unexpectedly catches the glass container coming towards his chest. It was aimed in a way that it would be impossible to drop unless you didn’t even attempt to catch it. Gale muscles the cork out and takes a swig of the cool water. 

“She must have filled it at the stream earlier today.” He considers, the cold water feeling good in his parched throat.

Copper sits down on a fallen log, waiting for Gale to finish. He takes one last gulp, downing the rest of the liquid before tossing the empty bottle back to its owner.

“Soooo, we’ve been on the road together for a while now, haven’t we?” Gale says, trying to make his words sound cheerful. Not desperate or needy. “Survived some perils, overcame some obstacles.”

The monk just raises an eyebrow at him but stays quiet allowing him to speak.

“Anyway, ever since you were kind enough to pull me from that stone, I’ve seen you demonstrate remarkable guile and courage.” Gale continues, half speaking the truth and half buttering the woman up so he could get the magic item in her bag. 

“The way you diffused the tension between Zevlor and Aradin. The way you prevented not one but two murders in the Druid’s Grove…”

“Gale.” Copper cuts in. “Those are things any Ilmateri monk would do for others. I did nothing special.”

“Wellll, I don’t know about that.” Gale playfully argues. “Most of the Ilmateri I’ve met are, well, weepy.”

Copper gives him a chuckle and bows her head, conceding to his point. Even though she follows the Crying God, most of his followers take that epithet too seriously. 

“Back to my point, I’ve grown to trust you enough to tell you something I’ve yet to tell another living soul, except for my cat,” Gale says seriously. “I need your help.  I have this…condition that requires me to consume powerful magical items.” 

To Copper’s credit, she doesn’t even look surprised when Gale tells her this. She just calmly assesses the man. Looking him over for any injuries. “You hide it well.” Copper finally says. “It must be serious if you have to consume powerful artifacts.”

“Yes, it can be deadly serious if I don't acquire the items I need,” Gale says gravely. “That is why I am turning to you. I need your help to find magical items to consume. It is vital. Dare I say it, critical.”

“Where do we find these items?” Copper asks calmly.

“We’ve already done the finding. In fact, you have one in your possession already.” The man says lightheartedly. Pleased this conversation wasn't being rejected outright.

“Soooo… you want me to give you the Sword of Justice?” Copper says, connecting the dots to what Gale wants quickly.  But a scowl appears as a new thought enters her mind. “Karlach doesn't want to use it right now but Lae’zel might.”

“Please, I know that sword was difficult to acquire but it's imperative that I absorb the Weave in that item!” Gale argues, his nerves jumping wildly in his stomach. “It will do far more good turning into a rusted piece of metal after I am done with it than waiting in your pack for somebody to decide to use it.”

Copper looks conflicted. She must hear the desperation in Gale's voice. But to sacrifice such a powerful magical weapon for…what?

“This magical item isn't mine to give.” The monk shakes her head, a sad look on her face. “Can you tell me more about your condition? Maybe I can try and heal it instead of destroying the sword?” Copper tries to reason. 

There's hope in her eyes that she can fix the dilemma without disappointing anybody. But Gale feels disappointed all the same.

“This condition is not a kind to be healed by any old healing spell.” Gale chastises, annoyance and vulnerability mixing together. “Some of the greatest magical minds came together to find this treatment.”

“You mean you and your cat?” Copper deadpans.

“Well, mainly Tara.” Gale deflates, not wanting to go into detail about his year-long depressive state after Mystra’s rejection.

“You mentioned healing spells won't work. Have you thought of Ki restoration?” Copper supplies helpfully.

“What! Try some quack Eastern Medicine?” Gale laughs, shaking his head. “No, what I need is the Weave.”

Copper huffs, clearly annoyed. “Ki restoration has been around for thousands of years! Instead of using outside magic to heal an injury. Ki restoration uses life force, either your own or another’s, to help strengthen the body from within so it can restore itself to a healthier state.” 

The monk crosses her arms and looks directly at Gale. Almost challenging the man to refute her. “Ki is a highly regarded field of learning just like the Arcane Arts of the Weave.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t called it a quack medicine.” Gale quickly corrects himself seeing he got his companion worked up with his quick choice of words. “Waterdeep has one of the largest collections of knowledge in the Realms and the libraries do have a small section about Ki. So I have read up on this… energy before. It seems like an adequate way to trick oneself to relax or slightly enhance one’s abilities. But it’s still a lowly form of magic not even regulated by Mystra.”

“Ki is not the Weave. It doesn’t have to be governed by a god since it is an uncontrollable life energy that we can only harness a small fraction of.” Copper counters.

“Mystra...the Weave is everything. They make up ALL creation….”

“Ki is everything too!” Copper blurts out, uncustomed to sharing her thoughts with another person. “It's the life force in ALL living things.”

“Ki is regulated to the body,” Gale says calmly, overlooking the lack of decorum the monk is following for this discussion. Gale did throw out the first insult so he’ll let a little impatience slide. “Like I said, the Weave makes up everything. It’s the air we breathe, the ground we lay our feet on, the sun and stars. The fabric that makes up the entire universe!”

“Untrue.” Copper argues. “The Weave is one part of a whole that makes up the Universe. It's not everything. When the Weave was gone during the Spellplague, life was still created. People and animals were still born! Ki, the life force was still there. We didn’t just keel over and die without the Weave’s presence. How else do humans live when anti-magic fields are up?”

Gale feels tension forming in his jaw but it wasn’t from annoyance. He was getting excited even energized by this argument. He hasn’t had a good debate since he subbed at Black Staff Academy and had to argue with a teacher that they were teaching their class on Illusionary magic wrong. 

Looking down at the young monk, Gale realizes he needs to get down on her level so they can properly debate this. He was just about to kneel down to say his rebuttal when a couple of the party members came over to check on the two humans.

“Copper!!! Come see this little guy we rescued!” Karlach rushes over, full of excitement over the owlbear cub. Then she stops in her tracks, sensing the tension in the air. “Whatcha guys doing?”

“Urgh, they were just discussing something in-tel-lec-tual.” Astarion drags out the syllables in the last word like it is something rotten that needs to be thrown away. “So~ absolutely nothing exciting at all. Unlike this cool new dagger I found on that goblin corpse!!”

“Really, Astarion!” Gale says exasperated. “There’s nothing wrong about wanting to expand one’s mind beyond the material things of this world.”

The elf pops one hip to the side and examines his new treasure. “The only smarts I like are street smarts. At least they are useful to survival.”

“Come on now! I’ve seen you read in your tent at night.” Gale says, partially annoyed at Astarion's retort and partially because he couldn’t continue his conversation with Copper. He had so much he could say about the Weave and the Universe.

“Purely to pass away the hours of boredom,” Astarion says lazily, sliding his new dagger into his belt loop. 

Gale throws the elf a glare. He does not care for this blasé attitude Astarion always has around him.

“Well, I think break time is over.” Copper says as she gets up and brushes bark and moss off her butt. Karlach was already tugging at her sleeves, trying to lead the monk over to the owlbear cub, who was being watched over by Shadowheart, Wyll, and a reluctant Lae’zel.

Before she is fully swept off by the fiery tiefling, Copper catches Gale’s eye. “The sword is not solely mine to give. But don’t be afraid to ask the group if you really need it. They’re more willing to help than you think.”

Contemplating the monk's words, Gale watches his companions pack up their gear. They will be heading out soon to their new destination. Hopeful finding a way to cure the mind-flayer tadpoles in their heads. Gale can't help the small smile that forms on his lips as he watches the group happily give the scared owlbear cub food and affection. 

Maybe there are more givers in his group than he thought.

Author Note:

I like the fact in early access we had to give Gale a powerful magical item like the Sword of Justice for his condition. It gives his struggles more weight since the cost is so great. I'll try to sprinkle in more tidbits from early access as the story continues.

[tiredassmage]

Yeah, but at least he was hot????? I’m sorry, Zenith, but also I... will absolutely do it again. >.>

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 38 - Gatekeep

Bite Night 2: Astarion is trying his best but you have the romantic awareness of a potato.

On AO3.

Y’all do not find the demon woman by the time evening rolls around. Wyll curses as the crickets chirp into twilight; stares out at the forest as y’all set up camp. You leave him be—comforting others ain’t your strong suite (you mostly just stand there all awkward because shows are liars and actually saying “there there” pisses people off more than it helps).

Shadowheart swings by to run her jesus hands over you again.

“You still feel stable,” she says.

You nod. Pause a moment, considering. Then, “You’re a cleric, yeah? Like, tied to a god or something?”

Her expression doesn’t budge from the cool neutrality she usually wears. “That’s what clerics are, yes. Why?”

You don’t know what you’re talking about. This world and its customs are fucking foreign as hell. Still. Something shivers in the back of your brain (not the worm this time, which seems to be dozing).

“Paladins are kinda the same? That one back there mentioned Tyr.”

She almost rolls her eyes. “The Lord of Justice. Paladins are sworn to their gods or goddesses. But they’re strictly fighters.”

Shadowheart carries a mace and seems real cozy bashing in skulls with it. You got an idea what that makes a cleric, but you also realize you don’t know which god she’s all cozy with (the concept makes your skin crawl).

“Who do you, uh, serve?” you say, totally suppressing the helpful urge to sneer.

That coolness freezes solid. “We’re all stuck together for the benefit of working as a group. But we barely know each other, and we’re all entitled to our own business.”

Oof. Some kinda sore spot.

You back down. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry. I just…would you be able to tell? If those guys was, if there was something weird?”

Now she frowns. “Weird?”

Actual gods with real people as their servants (again, you smother your grimace). You don’t know shit, do you?

“Nevermind,” you say. “I just…this is all real new. Sorry to bother you and for, y’know, getting too personal. Won’t happen again.”

The ice around her seems to thaw just a touch. She gives a sharp nod. “Alright. And…thank you. For respecting my privacy.”

Which leaves you at Lae’zel’s tender mercies before bed.

You manage an actual push up.

***

So you’re flying pretty high as you drag your ass to your tent. Half the camp is bedded down for the night. Lae’zel—completely unfazed by running your ass into the dirt without so much as a hair out of place or a bead of sweat on her skin—takes first watch.

The spacing arrangement has definitely gelled; seems you’re assigned to the desk next to Astarion for this quarter. He lounges on his back amidst a pile of pillows—where in the hell did he pick up more of them? As you draw near, he sits up and spins around to face you.

“Hello, darling,” he says. “Always a pleasure to see you sauntering over.”

“Tripping, actually,” you say. You reach for your tent flap. The white of his hair and his shirt glow in your peripheral, and you stop. He stares at you. Expectantly.

…right. Blood.

“Oh, um,” you say. Pause.

“You don’t have to, of course,” he says. “I’ve gone much longer in between meals.”

You fucking forgot. There’s no solid reason for your hesitation, except that this is a change in plans (your fault) and that always wigs you out and having time to mentally prepare (lips, lips) would have been nice.

But you did offer. And he’s waited for you. It’d be bad manners to leave him hanging.

“It’s fine,” you say. Look around. Gale and Wyll are in their tents. Lae’zel stalks the perimeter, and Shadowheart kneels outside her own tent. She looks at you. Her judgment is just as potent at sixty yards. “You wanna take this inside?”

His grin spreads slow and syrupy. “My dear, there’s nothing I’d like more.”

You don’t got much in the way of decoration. Just your bedroll and your pack. You pause a second inside; there ain’t enough room to stand upright. This’d probably be a two-sleeper tent back home. But you got no seats or cushions. Hospitality dictates you let Astarion sit on your bedroll, as the guest.

He ducks in after you, and the tent seems a lot smaller. Y’all are gonna have to sit criss-cross applesauce. Knees touching.

Oh jesus.

“Um.” You clear your throat. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

You busy yourself lighting the small lantern you scrounged up using the (thank FUCK) matches y’all also found. It’s enough light to see his features clear when you turn and find him stooped there, watching you.

“And where will you be, darling?” he says.

You will not clear your throat again. You will not act like some awkward twenty-year-old climbing into a boy’s car for the first time. You are a goddamn adult human and humans touch each other all the time. He’s (sucked) touched your neck before. What you have in mind is far less intimate than that. This whole thing is a casual act born of necessity.

Touching other people is fucking normal.

You just ain’t…used to it.

“I thought it might be easier to control the bleeding if you bit my wrist,” you say. It’s just practicality. Nothing else. Certainly not you being shy all the sudden. Has got nothing to do with the feel of his cool tongue on your fucking neck. Nothing at all.

“Ah,” he says. Gaze flicks down your arm. “If that’s how you’d prefer it. Though, as I’m sure you’re aware, I don’t have, ahem, as much experience with that.”

The blind leading the blind. It’d be funny if you weren’t so full of the heeby-jeebies.

“You wanna try?” you say.

He looks at you. Goddamn, he’s hard to read when he wants to be. Then his usual smile slots into place and his eyelids drop and you struggle not to roll your eyes as he says, “I’m willing to try a lot of things with you.”

Jesus lord on a pogo stick. You turn away to let the eyes roll freely; disguise it as lowering yourself to sit on the grass beneath you. Your bad knee has been acting up worse than usual. It pops as you settle, which makes Astarion pause.

“’M fine,” you say and start to roll up your left sleeve. You wore your worst-off shirt for Lae’zel’s nightly beat down. Won’t hurt if you get more blood on it.

Astarion settles in next to you. Facing you, rather. But that angle won’t work very well, so you turn and shuffle a bit until you’re side-to-side, sort of staring past the other.

You got all the gear this time, too. A shirt you tore apart and washed (in boiling water) for bandages, water, apples, and a goddamn healing potion.

“I won’t take as much this time,” Astarion says.

You nod. There’s no protocol for this, so you lift up your arm and hold it straight out.

He takes it. You expect that. It has to happen; how else is he gonna bite you? Lunge teeth-first, like a dog?

Still.

Cool fingers glide over your forearm, across your palm. You blink fast, but refuse to let your face so much as twitch. Keep your hand and arm steady but pliable, just like you do when a doctor is taking your pulse and blood pressure.

He brings your arm up as his head ducks down. Hovers over your wrist a moment; cool air brushes you as he exhales through his nose and your rebellious skin erupts into goosebumps.

“Sorry,” you say before he can pull some shit. “Tickles.”

He gives you a sly glance out of the corner of his eye. Shithead. Then he presses his lips to your inner wrist.

He holds you like that a moment. His lips certainly are soft and cool. You’re pretty sure every muscle on your frame pulls tight. Then he moves. And it ain’t to bite. He brushes those lips over you, slightly parted, up and down. You’re about to ask what in the hell he’s doing, when he twists your arm to change the position and, apparently, finds (through scent? Touch? Vampire bullshit?) the right spot.

His lips pull back. His brow wrinkles. His pupils are huge and dilated, even for the low light.

His teeth sink in. The pain is sharper, this time. Probably because you see it coming. Twin fangs pierce your skin, sink into muscles. Your arm tries to jerk back, but his grip tightens to bruising.

You gasp. Jerk. Will yourself not to fucking move, because his teeth are buried in your wrist and there’s tendons and ligaments in there.

Then his fangs are out, and his lips come down and seal around the wound.

This time, you can see his face. See the way his eyes roll back. His lids flutter shut. He makes a soft sound against you, low and guttural and for some reason, your face starts to burn.

You tear your gaze away. Do your best to stare at the blue canvas of your tent.

The pain throbs into that pleasant numbness as before. The rest of you relaxes as nerves stop shrieking in alarm. He’s not pulling this time—thank god. Seems content to hold you, grip eased, and lap at it.

Which means that sure is his tongue against you. Again.

You wonder what the thread count is on canvas here in Faerun. Light shines through it, but you ain’t sure about water. Might have to find a magical tarp the next time it storms—

He’s still making sounds. They’re soft. You don’t hear them, not really. But the vibration thrums against your wrist. Short, tiny things. Moans. It don’t seem voluntary. His eyelids still flutter like he’s trying to open them and can’t. He takes a particularly wet suckle, and that pops him free.

He lifts up a second to pant. His lips and teeth are coated in red. A dribble runs down his chin and his nostrils flare.

Your wounds immediately stream. You manage a single “um” before he pulls your arm up so he can lick a strip back up with a groan, and seals his mouth over it again and suck in a gasp through his nose.

And that’s when the numbness…twists, somehow. Morphs a bit. Instead of throbbing nothing, there’s a feel of…heat? A kind of euphoria. Gentle, right now—you really want to sigh and fall backwards—but it seems to be building where his lips touch you. On the prodding of his tongue between the punctures, encouraging more blood to flow. You can almost feel your blood in him. The throb melding with your heartbeat filling his mouth, filling him. The two of you connected in a way you can barely comprehend, and heat blooms between your legs—

Oh motherfucker, he’s got aphrodisiac spit??!

“Astarion,” you say.

He’s not as lost in the sauce this time. He hums. Takes a last slurp and then pulls away. Snatches up one of the rags you set aside for this and clamps it down hard over your wrist.

You hiss. He doesn’t let up. His hands have turned into a vice. Fucker’s gonna bruise tomorrow.

“Lift your arm a little, darling,” he says and you do.

“Didn’t know you knew wound care,” you say. You’re a touch lightheaded, but you ain’t dizzy. Tired and thirsty, mostly.

“In my line of work, you pick up a few things,” he says. And sucks his teeth. His tongue moves around in his mouth (it was just on your skin) as he laps up all traces of your blood.

“So you just didn’t the first time you bit me?”

He turns. Pupils still dilated and if that doesn’t send some kind of prey animal shudder down your spine.

“You told me you did this all the time, little donor.”

“Not through a bite on the neck. And with vampire spit to deal with.”

He shrugs. “As I said, I’ve never had to keep a snack alive.”

The pressure hasn’t wavered. You fully cannot feel your fingers anymore. “Well, thank you. For learning.”

He blinks. Has that weird look you can’t place. Then he, as usual, buries it with smarm. “It has been an absolute pleasure, darling.”

And then he’s leaning in, face all intent, gaze locked on you. A static charge seems to fill the air and your brain starts flipping levers to dump some kinda panic chemicals into your bloodstream. His face is so focused, even as his lids come down and he is entirely too close.

You panic. You ain’t even sure why. Lift your free hand and jab him in the nose and say, “honk” because your brain is a loser and you are a loser and what the fuck, why the fuck is that what you went with??!

Astarion jerks back like you slapped him, the very picture of a pissed off cat. “Excuse you?”

Which send you jerking back because you pushed it too far. Got too weird. Fucked this up and misread something and got too forward a-fucking-gain.

“Sorry!” you say. “I was just, I don’t know, um! I was joking and I’m sorry.”

The two of you sit there, hackles raised, and stare at each other for a long moment. Until he (mercifully) blinks first and smooths his ruffled feathers back down.

“I can’t saw I’ve ever garnered that reaction before,” he says. Studies you, and then looks away (you try hard not to cringe). Then he notices his hands are empty, because you both pulled away.

“Right,” you say and take over pressure duty—the rag has absorbed quite a bit of blood, but when you risk a peek underneath, the wounds only ooze sluggishly.

Awkward silence fills the tent. You can’t go anywhere (and it’s your tent), and he seems kind of stuck on what to do now (how bad did you just fuck this up).

So you reach for your favorite tool: changing the motherfucking subject. “Can I ask you something?”

He finally notices the smear of blood on his chin as is in the process of fastidiously wiping it clean with his fingers and sucking those into his mouth.

You want to ask him about the paladins, but another question comes barreling into your brain and it sounds like a much more bonding topic anyway.

“You remember how I asked what blood tasted like to you?” you say. When he looks over, “I want to experiment with that, if you’re okay with it. Now that I know I can do this kinda regular.”

He wears the most deadpan expression when he says, “Ah, the vampire fetish appears at last.”

“What? No. People do that? No, no, nothing weird. It’s just, you only eat blood and I can’t tell the difference, but you can. So what if we varied up the taste? If I even can? So you can have different things, sorta, too?”

His eyebrow arches at a pace you can only describe as glacial.

“Like, if the next time I donate, say I eat a bunch of fruit. Or apples, really, since that all we ever find. Get them sugars into my blood and see how that comes across to you?”

“And whyever would you do that?”

Well shit, he makes it sound so stupid. Maybe you ought to bury the idea outright. But you notice while the others tolerate him, they ain’t inviting him in for dinner, and you don’t like seeing people left out. And while he’s an asshole, there’s a level of charm to him. He kinda pings on your level, so to speak.

“We all get to eat lots of things,” you say, going with earnestness and hoping he don’t toss it back in your face. “Might as well see if you can benefit off that?”

He don’t say nothing for a while. A long while. It starts to turn uncomfortable, and you’re considering forfeiting your tent and ducking out into the night.

When he says, “”Well, it’s your blood, darling. If you want to tinker around like that, far be it from me to stop you.”

You start to relax. Peace and good feelings restored.

And then, because it’s Astarion and he’s a shithead, he leers in and says, “Though if you truly want to know what you taste like, I know of much better options.”

This fucking—

“I think it’s time for me to take that potion and get some shut eye,” you say. “Thank you for helping.”

His smile doesn’t even twitch. If anything, it gets worse.

“A cruel denial,” he says and presses a hand over his heart. “I shall have to skulk into the night alone and pine away, awaiting our next encounter. Try not to keep me waiting too long to sample your…experiments.”

“Goodnight, Astarion,” you say as dead-voiced as you can.

He rises and steps around you in one swift, fluid motion to duck through the flap behind your back. Before he goes, he gives you another silly bow.

You probably shouldn’t. That voice in the back of your brain (sin, sin, shame, sin) screams about it (talking to a man while you’re alone). But you do your best to bow back while seated. Because your life has got real, real weird, but beneath the bored, dull, and generally uninterested face you slip on everyday, you’re pretty weird yourself.

It’s that little connection. The tentative root unfurling and reaching for something it recognizes. The dare to grasp at something fun, just to spite the universe so intent on burying you.

He grins and lets the tent flap fall shut behind him.

Alone and unseen, you let yourself smile back.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[kyl3gutz]

okokokokok can we just.. can we talk about the guest character?

like I don't care about cyberpunk edgerunners, okay? do not give a shit. It looks pretty cool, sure but I am not interested personally. okay but I am not knocking the series, it looks cool. good? okay, cyberpunk people you can go now or stay. or some secret third thing.

okay, so the thing is, Guilty Gear hasn't done a guest character EVER before. This feels like following a trend since many fighting games these days (and even before) do crossovers.

I am not a fan of Guilty Gear going down this path, since I think with a long history of characters (GG is a 25-year-old series!) and fans for almost every last one of them (though I only just discovered there's a guy called tyr..)

it feels like a copout for there to be a character that not even fans from the media she originates in seem to be too fond of.

Even if we HAD to have a guest, it really should've been Ragna. It would make way more sense than fucking.. Lucy. She looks cool, I like her design but why is she here??? Next to two incredibly iconic GG characters?? come on.

okay, and Unika but SHE HAS A REASON!!! She's in the upcoming Anime, so it makes sense for her to be there. She'll release alongside or just after Dual Rulers so I get it.

so in the end, it's stupid and really.. it shouldn't have happened.

also, Venom looks weirdly pale and I am praying they aren't going to stick to that tone for his skin because I am scared but this rant isn't about that.

Thanks, everyone. That's my rant.

little mspaint doodle