#even though these are all variants on the companions

[bg3smash-or-pass]

[love-toxin]

MR O’HARA HAS ME ACTING FERAL BOTH OF MY LIPS HAS BEEN DROOLING SINCE I WATCHED ATSV OPENING NIGHT… I NEED HIM TO DESTROY ME

RIGHT??? LIKE--LIKE--

(cws: across the spiderverse spoilers, gn pronouns, smut, rough sex, mating press, size kink, biting/venom, belly bulges, mindbreak(?), breeding mention, a bit of forbidden love trope)

Like....imagine, if you will, becoming an assistant for the Spider-society after your dimension is destroyed. It's mostly because Miguel took pity on you since you're not a spider-person, you had nothing to do with the unravelling of your world, and/or you were meant to gain your spider-powers but an anomaly in your dimension prevented it. Since there's no place for you in another multiverse, he keeps you on his team both to give you asylum and to keep an eye on you just in case you prove to be an anomaly yourself....but it becomes pretty clear pretty early on that you're not really a threat. Not for violence, at least.

You're just a sweet thing that gets doted on by nearly everyone in the society--you're either a refreshing break from the endless spiderman variants running around or you remind the spiders of their Mary Janes, their Gwen Stacies, their Gayatri Singhs, and being a civilian to boot makes you the perfect candidate to have your things carried for you and be given web-slinging rides around the facility even though you're supposed to be the assistant here.

But even so, even though you're treated so lightly, Miguel really likes you and even--gasp--enjoys your company. It can be hard to tell with him, but the most perceptive of the spiders notice that Miguel keeps you in his good graces always. When he's stressed or in a bad mood, he collects himself before he speaks to you. He never snaps at you, and on the very rare times you get caught in his crosshairs, he apologizes quietly and gently and reiterates that whatever it was about, it wasn't your fault. He gives you so much wiggle room for error to the point that his companions sometimes complain outright that he's such a hardass, but he never berates you when you make a mistake, and without fail Miguel will come up with some reason for it; "That's because they don't screw up as often as you do" or "At least I can trust them to do their job", or he'll just tell whoever's bitching to leave you out of it and he'll dismiss you to discuss the matter privately.

Surprisingly, those incidents don't bother him nearly as much as when the inner circle starts getting closer to you. He feels this deep need to pull you away when Gwen offers to take you on a trip through the dimensions (although that's just plain dangerous), but it also bubbles up when Hobie hangs around and encourages you to join his band, and when Jess asks you questions about your life and is eager to hear about any potential romances you might be getting yourself into--there's a lot of single spider-people out there, and you're not tied to any dimension, so you've got plenty of options!

God, Miguel hates when Jess brings that up. You don't need to go anywhere, your place is here. You can stay here safely, which is something he can't promise in any of those other dimensions the spiders come from. But that's not the real reason, he realizes that when he feels that tingle at the sight of you holding Mayday and playing with her, having been given the task of impromptu babysitter for Peter when he has to rush off and do damage control somewhere.

It's you. He likes having you around, and it's not about letting you venture off into other dimensions, he just doesn't want you to leave him. That's why he loves it when you reply to those people, when you tell them "Oh, but I couldn't leave Mr. O'Hara! He'd lose his head without me." or "I really like this job, actually. I wanna keep working under Mr. Miguel." and especially "Miguel saved my life, I owe him all I can give. I could never leave him all alone." because it just reaffirms that desire for him to keep you as close to his side as possible. When he replays those videos of himself and his daughter, the pain is dulled for a while as he sees your eyes in hers, and envisions a future where you create a new family with him--one that he can properly protect this time.

It's that fantasy that emboldens him to lay hands on you, your body so puny and small in comparison to his massive frame, so fragile as he holds your hips in both hands and waits for you to tell him this isn't really what you want. He's waiting for it, anticipating it, even reminding you that you have the option when you look up at him shell-shocked. He promises that your answer won't affect your position here. It falls on deaf ears, however, because you desperately want to kiss him but you just don't think you can reach.

It's so adorable to see you try. Up on your tiptoes, clutching at his suit, straining to try and reach him where he's at--all it takes is an arm around your waist and he's got you off your feet and in the air, perfectly situated to press your pretty mouth to his own and awaken his instincts that have laid dormant all these long years. The stress of keeping each and every dimension following its intended canon has nearly broken him, it might have done so already if not for your unexpected appearance in his life. It's riled him up so much he doesn't think twice about taking you back to his place, nor gives him second thoughts when you help him peel that tight suit off and he tears through your clothes just as easily--maybe it really doesn't matter. His world is gone and so is yours, but you're both still here and you're begging him for another kiss, for more attention. How sweet could you possibly be? Pleading for something you'll always have and not realizing it's the least you deserve, perfect as you are?

Miguel just can't help himself anymore, he's too far gone and you’re too angelic for him to let down when you want him so badly. You don't seem to mind the rough treatment as he pushes you down either, no, you thrive on his aggressiveness and even encourage it to come out as he clambers over you. That pretty smile and those giggles as he shoves your thighs apart and spits, his venom sending electrifying tingles up and down your spine as he fingers the makeshift lube inside you. He's so bulky you can't even get your legs all the way around him when he lowers himself, forced to let your heels scrabble down his lower back as you struggle to find some kind of purchase on him--to just grab something and let it keep you steady as he slides in and rocks you into oblivion. The toxins loosen you up too, thank god, or else you'd be seriously struggling to take him in when he's practically twice your size. And he doesn't want to force it in, he just wants to ease you into the process before he allows himself to batter your poor body with thrusts that shake the whole bed--it's a little bit of payback for flaunting your pretty self around his office without ever telling him how you actually feel about him. Now you know exactly what you've been missing.

Drooling, hair sticking to your skin, sweat dripping down your chest, body gripping him like a vice yet endlessly slick....you're a total mess and he couldn't be more satisfied. You don't even try to keep yourself together, but that's all that he wants--he wants you to lose yourself in the way he makes you feel so you won't ever want to leave. The taboo is there; you're not from his dimension, he shouldn't be planning any kind of future with someone who doesn't belong in his world. But it makes it all more thrilling in the moment even if he can reason his way around it, it makes his every thrust gain power until he's breaking your willpower down enough to have your eyes rolling back in your head, hips jumping weakly as you try to participate. You don't even know how good you make him feel without lifting a finger.

Gliding through you as if you couldn't be more willing to take him, his position is clear just from a glance down at your stomach--the bulge is obvious, and as sickening as it could be your whines as you brush your fingertips over it sing his praises without a coherent word. You're so wet and stupid and needy on his cock, clearly he should've done this a long time ago when you were so much worse at hiding your pining looks at him from across the room. If he knew it would culminate into this, he would've saved the assistant crap and turned you into his stress relief toy that very first day. If he had, you might've already had a family by now....knowing him, at least.

It's still just as sweet to lick your tears up now, though. You're already drunk on his cock, it doesn't make much more difference for him to sink his fangs into your throat and pump you full of more venom straight from the source, the shock sending you straight into orgasm and dragging it out for so long he fears you might just pass out from the pleasure. It's like he's juicing up a plump little fruit until it's so ripe it could burst. And as if your own ecstasy wasn't enough, you really lose it when Miguel has you pinned and flooding that sore, fluttering little hole with so much seed it burns. Jets of pearly-white cum squirting down your thighs, painting you like a canvas without him even pulling out, because you just can't take him at his peak and you know it. You just have to whine and squirm beneath him as he fills you up, his hot breath puffing over your cheeks as he keeps you barely still enough not to wiggle away. With a shift of your hips you nearly slip off right up to the tip, his cum sloshing about and making everything too slick--but a hand slides up your neck and grips the crown of your head, his biceps flexing as he slowly pushes you back down with vermillion eyes piercing through your heated flesh. Lower, deeper, until he's seated himself up in your guts again and holds you there to milk those last few shots out of him, keep him nice and warm with those precious walls uncontrollably spasming around him. Doesn't stop you from pulling his head down closer, though, and whispering your praises while begging in whimpers in equal measure, urging him not to stop now. You're not ready to let him go.

How convenient is that? Miguel won't ever let you go, and he's known that deep in his chest since the moment you arrived--it couldn't make him any more satisfied to know that you feel the exact same way.

[alexanderwales]

Alright, here's my dream Stardew Valley style game, designed for my own tastes.

You come to a small town with the usual twenty to thirty people. It's in the middle of nowhere. It's a fantasy town, and no one actually farms anymore, partly because it's only questionably profitable, partly because a lot of the knowledge has been lost. Instead, everyone uses these magic doodads which are very powerful but also very limited. The tavernkeeper has a doodad that makes him a single kind of weak ale and a single variety of off-tasting wine. The clothier has basically a square mile of linen to work with, and everyone wears her drab clothes. Tools are made from a doodad that the blacksmith owns, not even made of any actual metal, just a material that wears away after a month and needs to be replaced by a new copy from the blacksmith's doodad. People get their meals from the doodads. They get their medical checkups. It's all a bit shit.

Because I'm a worldbuilder at heart, I would have this all exist in the wake of a large-scale war that depleted the town of its fighting-age population, with the doodads being a sort of government program to ensure that more of the lifeblood of the town could be drained away. And for there to be some reason for the town to continue existing, perhaps the government is harvesting some resources necessary in the creation of doodads. That's enough for a pro-doodad faction and maybe some minor drama with them, though I do like the idea that the only reason things are Like This is because there was a war and things got bad. It's not necessarily a bleak town, but there's definitely a listlessness to it, a "what's the point".

So you're a farmer, but no one is really a farmer anymore. Maybe there are a few books, but you don't learn farming from books, you learn it from practical experience; that's a lot of what this game is about. When you start, there's no one to buy seeds from, there's just a bunch of wilderness where farms once stood, now all long overgrown.

So you go out and forage, for a start, and you clear the land, and you pay attention to the plants and how they can be used, and you start in on making recipes with them, maybe with the help of your grandfather's old, partially incomplete books. You find some wild corn that's a descendant of the old times. You find some tomato seeds in an urn. You discover potatoes because you see them dug up by a wild boar, which itself was once a domesticated animal.

In my ideal game, you need to pay attention to the soil quality, to how far apart things are planted, to what crops work well together. Farming is a matter of companion planting and polycultures. You get some chickens by giving them consistent feed, and you keep them around because they're natural pest control. Your climbing beans climb the stalks of your maize. You're attracting pollinators. (From a gameplay perspective, yeah, we probably put this all into a grid, and you have crop bonuses from adjacencies, and emergent gameplay that comes from all that, some plants providing shade, others providing nitrogen fixing.) You're a scientist making observations about the plants, maybe with your incomplete book giving you confirmation on the nature of all your crops once you hit certain production goals or a perfect specimen or whatever.

Cooking is the same. There has got to be a system that I like better than just "combine tomato with bread to get tomato bread". I'm pretty sure that it's some variant of the actual process I use when cooking, which is making sure that things are properly cooked, balancing flavors against each other, adding in a little salt or acidity or umami or whatever. Time in the kitchen, in this game, is often about making meals, ensuring that if you have a fatty piece of meat you have some asparagus that's coated with lemon to go with it. (From a gameplay perspective, I think building the dish once is probably sufficient and it can be automated after that, and building the meal is the same. I don't want to play this minigame every time I'm cooking a dish, I just want to play it a single time until I have good knowledge of the best way to grill a BBQ chicken breast with a homemade sauce.)

But if we're having a little minigame here where we pay attention to how long we're cooking the kale to make sure that it's the right texture, and we're paying attention to abstractified mouthfeel and palette, then we can get something else for free: variation. See, you're not just cooking to get an S grade, you're cooking for people with different tastes. The cobbler has a sweet tooth, the librarian loves fruity things, the mayor cannot stand fish, that sort of thing. From a gameplay perspective, maybe we represent this with a radar graph with some specific favorite and least favorite individual flavors, and maybe it's visible to the player, but the important thing is that player gets feedback and have a reason to strive for both "good" and "perfection" and some of this is going to depend on the quality of the ingredients.

And this is, gradually, how the town is brought back into the fullness of life. You're not just cooking for these people, you're also selling them food, and they're making their own recipes, and all the stuff that's not food is making their businesses not suck anymore. After the first test keg of ale goes swimmingly, the tavernkeeper wants more, a lot more, and puts in an order for hops, wheat, grapes, anything he can use to make things that will improve nights at the tavern. The clothier will skeptically take in wool and spin her own yarn, and then eagerly want more, because how awesome is it to have a new textile? There's a chemist who is extremely interested in dyes and paints, and wants you to bring him all kinds of things to see what might be viable for going beyond the ~3 colors that the doodads can provide.

So by year two, if you're doing things right, you're the lynchpin of the revivalist movement. People are now moving to the town, for the first time in decades, because they hear that you're there and doing interesting things with the wilderness. Maybe there are other farmers following in your wake, but maybe it's just new characters who are specifically coming because a crate of wine was shipped to the capital city. Maybe some of them bring new techniques for you, or a handful of plants from a botanical garden, and there are new elements for the minigames, or maybe some automation for the stuff that's old hat.

I think something that's important to me is that there's a reason for the crops you plant and the things you do. I always like these games best when it feels like I'm doing something for someone, when I can look at a plot of cabbages and think "ah, those are the cabbages I owe to Leon". Where these games are at their worst, everything is entirely fungible and I've planted eight million blueberries because they have the highest ROI.

And yeah, in most of these games, there are other minigames like fishing and mining and logging and crafting, and since this is just a blog post and not a game, I definitely could massively expand an already sizeable scope.

I think for mining the player would use doodads of their own, and maybe you could make a mining minigame out of that, using the same planting tile system to instead create an automated ore harvesting machine that plumbs the depths of the earth (possibly dealing with rocks of different hardness, the water table, and other challenges along the way).

Fishing is a question of understanding the different fish species, what they eat, where they congregate, and then setting nets or lines, since I have never met a fishing minigame I really enjoyed. Again, there's some idea that the player is gaining information over time, building up a profile of these fish, noticing that some of them go nuts when it rains, understanding the spawning season, that they go to deeper water when it's cold, etc.

Crafting really depends on what you're crafting, but if you're reintroducing traditional artisan processes to this town, then people are going to need tools and machines and things. I'm not sure I know what a proper crafting game looks like. The only experience I have to draw on is wood shop, where I made wooden boxes, cutting boards, and picture frames. Since this is an engineering-lite puzzle-lite game, you could maybe do something in that vein, e.g. defining a number of steps that get you the correct thing you're trying to make, but ... eh. I love the idea of designing a chicken coop, for example, or building a trellis if I want my climbing beans to not need maize, or whatever, but I don't know how you actually implement that. There are definitely voxel-based and snap-to-grid games where you build bases, and I tend to find that fun ... but it's mostly cosmetic, for the obvious reason that doing it any other way than cosmetic requires programmatic evaluation, which is difficult and maybe unintuitive. The closest I think I've seen is ... maybe Tears of the Kingdom? Contraption building? But I don't know how you translate that to a farming game. Maybe I should ask my wife about this, because she's always doing little projects around the house (an outdoor enclosure for our cats, a 3D-printed holder for our living room keyboard, a mounting for our TV).

Making an interesting crafting system is difficult, which is why pretty much no one has done it.

And if I'm talking pie in the sky, without concern for budget or scope, I want the villagers to all have a mammoth amount of writing for them. I want petty little dramas and weird obsessions, lives that evolve with or without my input, rudimentary dialog trees that let me nudge things in different directions. This is just an unbelievable amount of work on its own, it would be crazy, but I would love having a tiny little town game where sometimes other people would fall in love. I would like to be invited to a wedding, maybe one that happened because I encouraged the chemist to hang out with the clothier, and in the course of working together on dyes, they fell in love. With twenty people in town and another ten that come in over the course of the game if you hit the right triggers, I do think this is just a matter of having a ton of time/budget. You write tons and tons of dialogue so there's not much that's repeated, you have some lines of conversation between characters that are progressed through, you have others that trigger off of events, and then you have personal relationships between NPCs that can be progressed through time or with player intervention. Give single characters a pool of love interests, have their affections depend on their routine which depends on what's changed in town ... very difficult to do without spending loads and loads of time on it though.

Anyway, that's one of my dream games. No one is ever going to make it, it would be a niche of a niche, and as scoped here, is too much for a small team to ever actually finish, let alone polish. But it's the sort of thing I'm imagining in my head when I think about playing Stardew Valley and its successors.

[raayllum]

“How exactly are you going to weigh our hearts?” “It’s not literal,” Deimos assured them. “We take the magical essence, if you will. A projection, but very real.” He waved his staff above them. “The stars see everything, you know. The great celestial eyes of the world.”

“So much grief and anger,” he noted softly. “So much doubt. You have led a hard life, young one. Always afraid that you are the problem, the unshakeable variant—the unfixable mistake. Your heart and blades have thirsted for vengeance.”  “Rayla is the best—” Callum started, loathing now the way her shoulders shrank a bit more with every word. To do this with a stranger was one thing, but in front of everyone? What game was Deimos playing at?  “But selfless too,” Deimos continued, levelling him with a look. Callum shut his mouth. “You love fiercely. You love all. Conflicted, but your heart is true. Your heart is strong.”  The scales evened out. The side with the orb rose above the feather. Deimos smiled as if he was pleased. “Well?” Rayla clasped a hand over her wrist, hopeful but also fearful. “What does it mean?” “You passed,” Deimos confirmed, and she exhaled.

Like he was lighter, somehow, even if that worried him—had his heart truly been that heavy, bogged down by darkness and doubt? He swallowed hard as the orb floated over and took Rayla’s prior place on the scale, cycling through white and black in a similar manner to his. Then it flashed brightly, the orb divided in two—one half a pale red, the other a deep blue, each looking awfully familiar. At the centre of two contrasting colours was a bundle of ever shifting black and white. “You love just as fiercely as your companion,” Deimos noted, studying it, though he looked troubled. “A beautiful thing in moderation, if it did not equally consume all you are. Your heart is a compass, spinning wildly between the red and blue. The pillars upon which your world stands. And at the centre... There is much darkness and light in you, young one. You have dabbled in dangerous magics.” 

—Teach Me How to Name the Bigger Light, Ch10: Pure of Heart May 10th, 2024 / 6x05, Moonless Night — July 26th, 20204

[edges-of-night]

Hey! I love your hc’s and was wondering if I could request for how the members of the fellowship react to aphrodisiacs?

If you don’t want to do this or think it’s odd that’s totally fine; but I find the trope of “sex pollen” or things along those lines fun

Ik this is anon but I swear on everything I am 21 lol

Indeed a fun idea, nonnie! I think this is the first NSFW request on this blog too, so I couldn’t let it slide 👀 Enjoy!

Heads-up: Aphrodisiac/sex pollen tropes might entail dubcon. While there is no explicit dubcon or noncon in this post, please proceed with care if the topic is sensitive for you.

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･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

As a ranger, Aragorn is well-versed with herbs and flowers that can serve as an aphrodisiac or be turned into one. He is very particular with which ones to use and not really interested in “store-bought” variants. Elven knowledge is quite helpful regarding making his own aphrodisiacs for the two of you; he prefers to only use them on special occasions. Since the topic is delicate for many Humans, Aragorn prefers to keep them a secret between you two – after all, this is about intimacy ♡

Reaction: like a power surge, short but sweet

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･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Since there is a sort of taboo around aphrodisiacs in Gondor, Boromir is quite excited to learn more about them when you suggest them for your sex life. He is so curious and eager about them that he ends up wondering why someone wouldn’t use them to give a special spice and magic to their trysts – especially considering the immense variety of flavours and scents. That said, Boromir always has your comfort as his top priority, so he would not pressure you into anything you wouldn’t want to do. To you, he’s nothing but a gentleman!

Reaction: strong, to the point of exhaustion once the effects wear off

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･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Hobbits value aphrodisiacs as much as smoking, drinking, dancing, and other hedonistic aspects of their culture, and Frodo is no different – though maybe a bit more distinguished than other Hobbits. He has a small collection of fancy little phials and is open to using them should you desire so anytime. All of them have pleasant scents and tastes, like strawberries or jasmine. Frodo in general is very normal about sexual experimentation and always communicates clearly so that the two of you are sure to have a good time ♡

Reaction: mild to normal

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･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

While other Wizards might think of aphrodisiacs as a poor use of magic for mere “petty-minded fooling around” (I am looking at Saruman), I think Gandalf’s playful nature and his contact to Hobbit culture would make him want to indulge in the occasional aphrodisiac from time to time, be it in the form of herbs, potions, spells, or items. On top of that, he would use magic to create certain illusions or sensations to make you feel good. He doesn’t have limitless curiosity though, and he would not speak about this to anyone but you.

Reaction: none to mild, depending on the sort

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･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

For years, Gimli has been convinced that he has no need or want for aphrodisiacs in his love life. So perhaps, when you first suggest using them for the two of you, he would not really know what to say. However, I figure he would be open to trying them out when you ask him, too. Not only that: Dwarves have brilliant ingenuity and dexterity, so maybe Gimli would come up with a new aphrodisiac entirely catering to your personal needs and/or kinks, perhaps even in the form of a magic-induced gem.

Reaction: mostly prolonged stamina, normal

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･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

Not only do I headcanon the Elves as entirely open to sexual experimentation with toys and kinks – they even take a certain pride in it. They are at the forefront when it comes to aphrodisiacs, and Legolas is no different. He has a few staples in his collection that have become his personal trustful companions over the years, like magic-induced flowers and candles, and is eager to try out whatever you bring into your bedroom as well. He would answer any questions of yours regarding the aphrodisiacs in his “Lembas voice”: proud of the Elvish traditions but still casual.

Reaction: very strong, since he is already so passionate

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･ﾟ✧ Merry.

While Merry doesn’t keep any aphrodisiacs for himself, he has no inhibitions to trying something out when you suggest it. I like the idea that they could help him let himself fall and really enjoy sex, since Merry tends to be controlled by his head instead of his emotions, or even aspires to be more of a “thinking type”. Aphrodisiacs could provide him with the opportunity of rawness and freedom in a way he hasn’t known before – and I think he would enjoy that very much ♡

Reaction: strong and freeing

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･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Growing up in Hobbit culture, Pippin is used to aphrodisiacs – or at least talking about them. He has at least once fallen prey to swindlers who convinced him of spending lots of money on some much-praised herb, only to find out later it doesn’t do anything (other than smelling nice). Pippin would also experiment a lot with what works for the two of you and what doesn’t, and always voice clearly if something wasn’t for him. Perhaps he would brag about his newest discovery with other Hobbits – if only to get another tip in return.

Reaction: physically little, but boosted mentally

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･ﾟ✧ Sam.

I don’t think Sam would enjoy aphrodisiacs very much – for a couple of personal reasons, ranging from “It’s just that I’ve yet to find one that doesn’t taste like stale biscuits” to “It wouldn’t feel right, y’know?”. Sam is a big romantic and proud to always provide you with the right mood by preparing candles, nice pillows, maybe a fireplace on cold nights, or even starlit trysts in a sunflower field, to name a few examples. I think he would nip at your favourite potion just to have tried it once but still be fine with you calling him old-fashioned. After all, this is about having a good time!

Reaction: none

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･ﾟ✧ Bonus: Haldir.

I’m including Haldir in this one because I have a random headcanon of him being comically scared of aphrodisiacs haha! After all, they might expose his buried feelings that he works so hard to hide, almost like a truth serum. I also imagine he would expect such a potion/flower/herb to taste nasty, smell funny, and just all around not be for him. But as written above, I imagine the Elves to be very open to sexual experimentation, so dear Haldir would be a “prude” in their eyes. You can read more about my headcanons on him on this older NSFW post.

Reaction: that's a secret! 😉

[persnicketypomelo]

Imagine !! What if all the different versions of the Phantom meet and pursue Reader.

(I have way too much free time)

mentions of murder, obsession

Different Eriks Pursuing Reader

This kind of reminds me of the premise of the Spiderverse movies, though obviously different

I think, most of all they would be confused at the collision of several versions of themselves in one world/reality

I’m not really sure the Phantoms would get along well with each other

Certainly some of the more broodier ones such as the musical version and book version would scorn their more ridiculous and outlandish variants (such as the 1943 movie)

The question I would have is how the reader’s character might differ between the various worlds—would these different iterations be able to meet each other too?

But I’m going to assume that there is some underlying essence in you that attracts the interests of all Phantoms

These different versions of Erik likely wouldn’t take too kindly to sharing you with each other

Erik’s character, in general, is very dark and passionate, and each one’s intensity is not a very good balance to the other

If it came down to something as violent as an altercation between the Eriks, I think that either the book or the musical version would be the likely victors

This is simply because they have the most practice/history and ease in murder, in my opinion

Maybe some of the more compatible versions of Erik could compromise, but even still, their affection is so all-consuming and possessive that I don’t know if they could even come to an agreement

I believe that the Charles Dance mini series version would be most tolerable of all choices of all possible companions, if you were able to pick

He seems to be most capable of a sweet, normal relationship with you for reasons I explain in previous posts

However, all in all, this is not a very ideal situation for you to be in

[sketchingstars03]

aghfdsfd sry about the infodumping but i havr to get tgis out of my head hc that ink has a kind of a fixation on naming?? him naming his brush ,the doodlesphere and giving people nicknames kinda?? something something about his abandoned AU not havign a name... something about his last words being not watnting to b forgotten. wanting to be someone.. somethin about names n identity sjhjgf also uhm i just learned that it's actually like. confirmed that he's the one who put all those buckets in the doodlesphere. and also ink doesn't consider himself a Sans bc of his lack of a universe. uh mirror room. apparently its implied that the reason he doesnt liek that room is bc. Ink couldnt tell that they're the original or just one of the many reflections/imposters. since he's the only Ink who doesnt have a soul and doesnt remember jack shit ab his past.(kinda outdated but makes sense. that room was made official around that time where the fact that ink not having a soul is considered vry niche info iirc? somewhere around early 2017)

no Anon you’re onto something with the naming thing.

I think it’s fascinating that Ink, should this be true (which it seems very plausible to me), extends this need to be someone, to have an identity, to others. In a similar way to how they might subconsciously extend that feeling of no universe deserving to be left behind, in that both stem from themself, yet he can’t help but fulfil that desire through other people. Really shines a light on the side of Ink that “isn’t completely selfish”, to put it in words I remember from one post by Comyet.

I always had a feeling, like a headcanon, that Ink would feel separated from his Sans identity, or, well it would probably be more like a role or title to him, rather than a name or someone he is. They left “Sans” behind with _____tale (something he doesn’t even remember). Though, it’s interesting that he still carries over some sans-like traits, like puns/pranks (though more frequent and intense pranks than a regular Sans would pull), and the creation of their own personal Gaster Blaster companion and forming bones out of ink. And there was the sans-like sweater in their old design (something I like to think they still hold on to, even if he doesn’t wear it anymore)

I should check Comyet’s blog to see that lmao guess it probably wasn’t purely just a hc after all.

THE PART ABOUT THE MIRROR ROOM IS FASCINATING THOUGH! Now that you mention it I think I remember a post like that, again looks like I need another trip through the Inkechos tag 😅. But still!! I wonder how Ink would feel about the mirror room now, if his dislike was based around how all the other “hims” had souls and he didn’t, now that that’s changed and it’s actually the Inks with souls who are the outliers (shout out to FTFO!Ink). Would they take joy in the fact that they’re not alone? Or would it still feel, weird and uncomfortable somehow? Perhaps serving as another reminder of his emptiness deep down, and so they still avoid it even though the circumstances in the fandom have changed. I know that whenever I RP my version of Ink meeting other variants, he’s always very interested to see new versions of himself, so maybe it would just be like that! Who knows! Well, Comyet does, but I’m not her 😅.

Either way thank you so much for this thought-provoking ask, Anon! I’m always happy to discuss my favourite chaotic-neutral-artist-skeleton guy like this!

[bunningchaos]

Sooo, Afterdeath Ship. (Geno X Reaper)

...Ship child, specifically Goth whom belongs to nekophy, on Tumblr. Yes?

I had the idea of doing up my own design on his Fell version, courtesy of ideas from this video and another recent song

Soo, low and behold. Vultous!

Also, something I forgot to add- Geno belongs to LoverOfPiggies (aka CrayonQueen) on Tumblr! Reaper belongs to Renrink on Tumblr!

Oh also..

The asks can be about anything, questions about him or his opinions on anyone! Give him stuff, or whatever

That and, you're free to ask him to interact with anyone within and also outside of Safe Haven! Just list the name of the character and all, could be your own OC (preferably related to UT) if you really want to-

Anyways more extra under the cut, specifically for Vultous with wings and his additional information

Oh, if it wasn't already obvious- his bird(wings) type is that of a Vulture.

Vultous (Fell!Goth Variant - He/They)

•His name is a combination of 'Vulture' and 'Lotus'

•The ship child of Fell!Geno and Fell!Reaper (Afterdeath, but Fell. Lol)

Goth and Fell!Goth, originally belongs to nekophy on Tumblr. I take ZERO credit for him, except for this specific Fell Variant.

•He's commonly seen in his 'Main form' which stands at 140 cm(4.6ft). Though his 'Secondary form', being at 90cm (2.9ft) isn't that rare of a sight either.

•The bird that forms from shadows/smoke around him, is his 'companion'. It's not always around though, sometimes he prefers being alone.

•His wings can appear and disappear according to his will, though it's usually not within sight as he don't want it getting caught on random stuff

(He just don't want to spend hours brushing and cleaning the feathers if it gets dirty.)

•The cuffs around his ankles and wrists, can be hidden in his 'Main form'. The same can't be said for the 'Secondary form' though, even he don't understand why.

The chains on the cuffs are actually connected to each other respectively, the glitches just make the rest of the chains 'hidden'.

[yxstxrdrxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Faes and humankind are never meant to be together, but Coviello has plans to prove that wrong.

TW/S: Yandere behavior, non-canon to original Coviello, variant of twst! Coviello (huge inspo to Malleus from twst!), stalking, somno but not the sexual kind??, major character death/s (debatable but if you squint, you can see it), huge reference to the original cover of Once Upon a Dream by Lana Del Rey, delusional mindset, lol they're pulling some sleeping beauty shit here.

NOTE: Coviello is not from me, its from Meirin (@zhongrin/@meimeimeirin)! Also, this was something that hit me so hard after hearing the cover of once upon a dream... And drawing Coviello as Malleus did not help my delusions.

As a dragon fae, Coviello is no stranger to the waking of death.

They have attested this by seeing how humans can only live for so long, be it by decades... Or a few years, if they were unlucky. Some were even unfortunate to have their lives snuffed before they were given the chance to live.

To them, they were birthed from an egg, and although they had the temper worse than of a common fae, their family took care of them. At least... To the best of their abilities.

As they grew up, their eyes have witnessed tragedies. Some fell on their kind, while others fell on themselves.

It was when they achieved their signature spell: one that is so tied to the song that they heard their mother sing. However, there was a catch to that spell.

That is... Coviello must know the person's name, for this spell needs it as a payment of it's own.

If it doesn't... Well, they didn't need to remember. They knew what the payment was in return of the lack of name. Who's to say they didn't experienced it themselves?

And so, they lived on. They've watched as times change, but they remained the same. If anything, they were quite displeased with how things seem to happen so quickly.

There was nothing to catch their eye. Nothing that could make them slow down, to admire, aside from the sweets they get or from admiring the simple scenery... Or even with their animal companion.

That is, until they met you.

Housewarden of Ramshackle and Crowley's little helper.

You were the light of their life, something that made them stop to look twice.

And you two met at a time where they thought it was impossible, which was Night Raven College.

At the time, it was a simple nightly stroll for Coviello. They were out to see the abandoned ruins of Ramshackle, to simply get away from the chaos of Diasomnia. And in such a time, they had simply thought they would get a sliver of peace.

However, they were displeased to see that they weren't... And it was because of you.

Still, they held their tongue and became cordial. In their mind, you were simply there to be like them: to escape from whatever dorm you were stuck in, or to get your bearings over something else before heading back to rest.

However, they were gravely mistaken. They realized that, no, you weren't doing that... And you were an insomniac.

That, and you LIVED in that abandoned, dilapidated of a dorm.

Coviello had to reel in the urge to ask you to repeat yourself. That was a shock they never expected, and they were one to have witnessed the horrors of it all.

And yet, from the look in your eyes, you weren't kidding. And you were even more bold to ask them of their name.

In the folklore and basic knowledge of faes, one mus not tell them your real name. This was so to limit the possibility of them taking some form of ownership, a title of their claim on you.

However, Coviello what they didn't expect was for you to willingly give up your name, and even give them a nickname of your own.

You called them 'Vii'. A playful iteriation of their name, but they had no heart to correct you.

You were a peculiar being, but maybe... It was better you stay oblivious.

For their sake.

That day, Coviello was not the same as others had noticed.

If anything, it would seem as though they changed. The once feared leader of Diasomnia had their heart softened over someone that no one knew, but those who did were left confused.

Who knew that one human could make them feel like this? And yet, they did.

Every time Coviello was with you, you made it clear that it was simply to be with them as a friend. You weren't going to restrict Coviello for what they should or shouldn't do, and you were there to support them.

You made the fae feel human. Someone who was worth hearing out for.

And for them, they got addicted.

However, it wasn't long till they have witnessed your struggles. You were still human, so it was clear that you had your own issues, too.

One was how people took advantage of your kindness.

You have your heart on your sleeve far too many times, and Coviello had to witness that happen. It was almost like you never learned how it feels to be used, and when you did... You were hurt.

They hated it. They hated seeing just how miserable you are sometimes. And they hated how you seem to act like your misery was not a big deal.

Still, you trudged on, just like a soldier is to the sight of a war.

As for Coviello, they stayed... Waiting.

Waiting for your walls to crumble.

What they lacked back then was patience, but oh, Coviello had enough time in the world to remain patient. They knew in themselves that the time will come that you'll admit defeat.

And each time that things happened, the burden was placed on you. Each time you try to justify it wasn't your fault, people never believed you.

You were a magicless human. You don't deserve to have a voice, they told you.

And each time, you swore to yourself that you felt someone was on you. Someone who kept watching you from a distance, far from your untrained eyes.

Coviello truly didn't mean to scare you, but they were curious. They wanted to see if you were able to understand the predicament you were under, and how each one of them would let you take the blame.

They were all cowards. You and Coviello knew that. But did you believe them?

No. No, you didn't.

And to see them resort to it after all the warning they gave you was... Disappointing. But maybe it was worth for the beauty that they've seen.

That in some way, you were stubborn to prove their words wrong.

However, Coviello has seen it. Each time that you went through it, they could see how difficult it is to remain the same perception.

Which leads them to now, with cradling your body in their arms after they had the entirety of Night Raven College under their control. Under their power, slumbering as peacefully as they can.

"... But if I know you, I know what you'll do," they whispered by your ear, pulling your body closer to them. "You'll love me at once, the way you did..."

"Once Upon a Dream."

And just like that, your body went limp, your rushed breaths becoming quiet. Coviello could only imagine what pleasant dreams you have under their spell as flowers bloomed, traversing to cover your eyes to keep them 'closed'.

Once Upon a Dream— a signature spell only they can wield, which renders whoever hears those words in a deep slumber. And the worst part?

All they need is a name of the recipient for it to work.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

[ghulah]

The origins of Sibling Nephtys: Etymology

Will this be a series? Perhaps, we (Warden HQ) don't know.

As many of you know (or didn't know), my Ministry/Clergy original character is a fun, nerdy librarian by the name of Sibling Nephtys. But how did we get here? What does Nephtys mean? Why did I choose that name? Did Nephtys choose their own name? And why?

To which I say, let's find out!

In a more elaborate way than my ghulah and ifrit posts are, this is a breakdown of etymology, with regards to mythology and history.

How Did We Get Here?

The processes of actually naming my Sibling of Sin was actually quite frustrating. I am a person who enjoys etymology and language. I wanted a name that honored both my Sibling's Egyptian heritage, while retaining a Gothic feel to it. Obviously, there is no actual contradiction with having both of those - but it felt hard, when a lot of the ideas of Goth-ness were associated with historically white and European things. Even though names like Isis or Seth (Set) or even Anubis were sorta in that sphere. I wanted to handpick something. It also had to be a name that, in character, Nephtys would name himself! So I made a list of potential names that were culturally relevant and fit the themes I wanted.

The candidates were:

Samara

From the Arabic root SMR, meaning a good companion. Similar names included Samir or Samira. Initially chosen as it was a pretty name I liked. It was axed because the name meaning didn't super fit what I was going for.

Lamia

Derived from Arabic, lamea, shining. As well as the Libyan queen in Libyan-Greek mythology who was turned into a monster (many such cases). Initially chosen because of the mythological connections and geographical placement. It was axed because of the vibes, truly. It is still a very good name, I think it'd be great for a name of a Sibling of Sin.

Badriyah

Meaning 'of the full moon' in Arabic, coming from badr which is the fill moon with an added iyah suffix. Initially chosen because of, well, the moon and the night. It was axed for the fact that it didn't feel the way I wanted it to when I said Sibling Badriyah.

Qadira

Feminine version of qadir, meaning 'to be capable of' in Arabic. Initially chosen because it conveys power and authority. It was axed because I didn't like it as much as my final choice. It is actually really good as well.

Aken

A fairly unknown Egyptian god that is mentioned to be the ferryman of souls, though less than the following option, which is Kherty/Cherti. Initially chosen because of the association with the afterlife. The name was axed because I thought I could make a better OC for this name.

Cherti

An Egyptian god of the Duat, who guided and protected souls to safety on their journey to the afterlife. Initially chosen because of the association with the afterlife. It was axed because of pure mouthfeel and dissatisfaction with pronunciation on my end.

Chons

A variant on the name of the Egyptian god, Khonsu. The god of travellers, the moon, and healing. Initially chosen because again, the moon and the night. It was axed because I might use it for another character and the pronunciation.

Satis

An Egyptian goddess of fertility and war and associated with Sothis - the star beneath Sirius. Initially chosen because of the nocturnal and empyrean aspects. It was axed because I preferred the final choice over it. Still a good contender.

Lilah

From the Arabic lailah, meaning night. Initially chosen for the meaning. It was axed because I know too many Layla's in my life. Very pretty name, not for my main OC, though.

Nephtys

A derivative of Nephthys/Nebethwt, the Egyptian goddess of mourning, night, and magic. Chosen because it contained all the themes I wanted to convey with the name of my OC. Also very plausible that some very passionate nerd would pick it out from a list. Aka me, aka Nephtys. THE WINNER!

But, Warden, why Nephtys, really?

I found out I wanted a name that was associated with the Egyptian pantheon. Not only because my Sibling of Sin is a history, theology, mythology and anthropology enthusiast - but I wanted something pre-Abrahamic. It's a little funny to think about, however, within the Egyptian pantheon there is no true evil, maybe once or twice, but the darker aspects of the mythology were always essential to life. A guide like Aken and Kherti or a god of funerary rites like Anubis and Osiris, the god of the underworld, even Tawaret or Hathor - all part of life and death and what came after. If I had all these options from the Osirian gods, why did I choose Nephtys?

Let's talk about it.

Mythological Background

The name Nephtys is derived from the Egyptian goddess Nephthys, the Latin/Greek version of the name Nebethwt. I will be referring to her as Nebethwt for easier distinction between her and Nephtys (my oc) in this post. Nebethwt, the goddess, was the child of Geb (earth) and Nut (sky). She was associated with mourning, death, (temple) service, as well as magic, protection, childbirth, and embalming. Nebethwt was also referred to as Isis's mirror-twin - the darkness to Isis's light.

This is a depiction of Isis/Eset (left) and Nebethwt (right) with the Djed pillar - which symbolized Osiris's (god of the Underworld) strength and stability.

Nebethwt (nbt-hwt) translates to Lady (nbt) of the enclosure(hwt), to mean Lady of the House, or Mistress of the House - alluding to her protective aspects. Her headdress indicates that as well, as it is a symbol of the house. This protection also extended to the dead.

It also should be noted that Nebethwt was cited as Set/Sutekh's consort. Set being the god of desert storms, chaos, and war. A figure of strife, a god who attempted to usurp his brother's(Osiris) throne. Nebethwt both aided in his endeavour but also eventually helped Isis in bringing Osiris to victory.

Other associations with Nebethwt were: hawks, sycamore trees, temples, the setting sun, twilight, darkness.

So, she was very much associated with death and mourning and the night and all those fun Gothic concepts that we enjoy here. Nebethwt was a goddess that was revered and worshipped all throughout Egypt - she was popular and beloved, not unlike her sister. Together they were quote the duo, they represented such major concepts in the Egyptian pantheon. It is sometimes debated if she was truly separate from her twin sister or if they sometimes become one at times. Regardless, she is the darker aspects of Isis, but just as divine (which is similar to the playlist title I have for Nephtys).

The Final Choice

After considering all of that and reading through pages of articles and niche blog-posts, I decided on the name Nephtys. It was not the original spelling Nebethwt and not the Graeco-Latin Nephthys, and not even the Old Coptic Nepht'ho (which I did consider for a little bit, but ultimately didn't choose). I personally found that my Sibling of Sin would choose this version of the goddesses name, which is a phonetic iteration and tack on an alliterative surname - Nuit. Nuit just means night in French. It felt like the perfect name for a sixteen year old who's aching to find a new identity and comfort while still embracing their heritage.

Besides, the title Lady of the House, it made me think a lot. She was a protective figure and a powerful one, beloved and embraced by her followers. She was a protector of people, of spirits, of temples. A comfort to be found in mourning and in death. Narratively, I thought about Nephtys and what he was like and his own relationships with others and what ideas he embodies. The things he would go through. Reaching out towards something many people shy away from and staying there, soaking in it, becoming part of it. It just fits, I think.

There's something really good about finding comfort in culture, in finding all that history of language and meaning.

Sibling Nephtys definitely did.

[princesssarisa]

I've still been reading Heidi Ann Heiner's Cinderella Tales From Around the World. I've just finished reading all the variants from Ireland, Scotland, and England.

Here are the patterns:

*In Gaelic variants (e.g. two Irish versions and one Scottish), the heroine and her two sisters typically have names that describe their appearance or demeanor, with the sisters' names implying that one is blonde and the other brunette. For example, Fair, Brown, and Trembling, or Fair-Hair, Brown-Hair, and Mangy-Hair, or the Fair Maid, the Swarthy Maid, and the Snow-White Maid.

*As usual, it varies whether the heroine is abused by a stepmother and stepsister(s) or by her own mother (or both parents) and sister(s), or just by her sisters alone, and whether there are two (step)sisters or just one. In the three Gaelic versions with hair-themed naming, the girls are biological sisters, though in The Snow-White Maid, the Fair Maid, the Swarthy Maid, and Bald Pate Their Mother, they're half-sisters and Balt Pate is the Snow-White Maid's stepmother.

*It seems far more common in these versions for the heroine and her (step)sister(s) to be princesses. This has sometimes turned up in other countries' variants so far, most notably in Finette Cendron, but so far the British Isles seem to have the biggest number of Cinderellas who are princesses by birth.

**In the Irish Fair, Brown, and Trembling, not only is Trembling seen by her own prince at church, but the fame of her beauty spreads throughout the world, and all the princes of Ireland come to see her, as do princes from other countries like Spain and Greece. They all want to marry her and agree to duel for her hand after the slipper fits her, but after four days of fighting they all concede to the prince who first fell in love with her.

*The heroine's magical helper is either an old woman or an animal in these variants, and if it's an animal, it's almost always either a black sheep or a red calf. The beginning of one Irish version explains that black ewes were considered good luck.

**In almost all the versions with an animal, as in the Grimms' One-Eye, Two-Eyes, Three-Eyes or French tale of The Blue Bull, the (step)mother sends the heroine out to pasture each day with barely anything to eat, hoping to slowly starve her, but the animal magically provides her with good food.

**As usual, the animal companion tends to be killed by the (step)mother, but unusually, it doesn't stay dead in these variants. Instead, after the heroine gathers up the bones, the animal comes back to life, limping because the heroine lost one shank bone, but otherwise none the worse for wear. There are also some variants where the animal doesn't die at all. In one Scottish version, the heroine is ordered to behead the calf herself, but instead she kills her sister (!), takes the calf and runs away.

*In both Irish and Scottish versions, the special event the heroine attends is always church, not a festival or party. Several versions take place at Christmas and have her attend the special Yuletide Masses.

*The old woman or animal typically not only provides the girl with finery and a horse to ride, but cooks the family's dinner for her by the time she gets back. In one Scottish version, Ashpitel, the black lamb doesn't even give her finery – she just dresses herself in her own fine clothes that she rarely gets to wear, while the magic the lamb provides is just to cook the dinner for her.

*In the Gaelic versions, the prince rides after the heroine the third time she rides away from church, and grabs her by the foot, but only succeeds in pulling off her shoe. Whereas in the Scots versions, she just loses her shoe by accident.

*In Scotland, the story (and the heroine) is most often called Rashin Coatie (a.k.a. Rashie Coat, or Rushen Coatie), because the heroine wears a coat made of rushes, or "rashes" in Scots dialect.

** It varies whether Rashin Coatie is simply forced to serve her (step)mother and (step)sister(s) at home, or whether she runs away, to escape either from a cruel family or from an arranged marriage, and becomes a servant at the prince's castle, a la Donkeyskin.

*Both Irish and Scottish versions tend to include the motif of foot-cutting to make the slipper fit, just like the German versions do. A bird alerts the prince, typically in a rhyme which says that "nipped foot and clipped foot" is riding with him while "pretty foot and bonny foot" is elsewhere. But it's not always the (step)sisters who do it. In the Donkeyskin-like versions of Rashin Coatie, where the heroine runs away and becomes a servant at the prince's castle, the rival who tries to trick the prince is a henwife's daughter instead.

**Henwives are ubiquitous in these variants. But in the Gaelic versions (both Irish and Scottish), the henwife is benevolent, often serving as the heroine's magical helper, while in the Scots-dialect Rashin Coatie variants, she's a secondary villain, with the above-mentioned daughter who aspires to marry the prince.

*The Gaelic versions usually continue the story after the heroine's marriage, and have her eldest sister (the blonde one) throw her into the sea or a lake, then take her place. But either the princess's bed stays afloat so she doesn't drown, or she's captured by a whale or a water monster that keeps her a prisoner in the deep, yet briefly lets her onto the shore now and then. A cowherd sees her and alerts her royal husband, who rescues her, slaying the whale or monster if there is one, and the sister is executed.

*There doesn't seem to be a strong tradition of localized, oral Cinderella stories in England the way there is in Ireland and Scotland. But this book does include an English literary version: The Cinder-Maid by Joseph Jacobs, the folklorist who gave us the best-known versions of Jack and the Beanstalk and The Three Little Pigs.

**As usual in Jacobs' retellings of folktales, he borrows motifs from various different oral versions in an attempt to write down the "definitive" version of the tale. So The Cinder-Maid is basically the Grimms' Aschenputtel, with the three-day royal festival, the heroine getting her finery from a hazel tree on her mother's grave, the prince smearing the palace steps with tar to catch her golden slipper, and the stepsisters cutting off parts of their feet. But Jacobs also includes the motifs of "finery from a nutshell" and "hollow tree opens to reveal gifts" from other versions – each dress and pair of shoes comes from inside a hazelnut from the tree, and then the trunk opens to produce a coach and horses. And the bird in the tree instructs Cinder-Maid to leave by midnight, as in Perrault. (The midnight deadline is a rare motif in international Cindrellas, despite the fame Perrault gave it; in most versions she just leaves early to ensure that she gets home before her family does.)

**In his footnotes to The Cinder-Maid, Jacobs notes the existence of Rhodopis, but he argues that the entire Cinderella story (the persecuted heroine, magical help to attend an event, etc.) most likely originated in Germany, because it was a German betrothal tradition for a man to put a shoe on his fiancée's foot. He makes no mention of Ye Xian, or the more common belief that the story was born in China from the Chinese view of tiny feet as the height of feminine beauty. This reminds me of a hypothesis I once read that maybe Ye Xian isn't really as ancient a tale as it's believed to be – that maybe the story originated in Germany, then spread to China by way of the Silk Road, and that the name "Ye Xian" may derive from the similar-sounding "aschen," the German word for "ashes" that starts every German form of Cinderella's name (Aschenputtel, Aschenbrödel, etc.). Personally, though, I don't see why the reverse can't be true: couldn't the story just as easily have travelled from China to Germany? Maybe the heroine's association with ashes started when Germans heard the name "Ye Xian" and thought it sounded similar to "aschen"!

But I'm getting ahead of myself talking about China. The next several Cinderellas I'll be reading come from Scandinavia.

@adarkrainbow, @ariel-seagull-wings, @themousefromfantasyland

[mass-effect-galaxy]

Baldur's Gate 3 roleplaying idea: The Eilistraee Sword Dancer

(the "evil drow" variant is here)

I am still rather new to DnD lore and therefore I am still looking at what kind of characters you would actually be seeing in BG3 and how they would react and act in the story.

I became interested in the cult of Eilistraee by chance when I turned Shadowheart into a cleric of the Dark Maiden because I didn't find the altar to Selûne in the pantheon next to the Elfsong. This made me curious to learn more about that religion (other than the obvious naked drow dancing with a sword).

I quickly realized that an Eilistraee cleric would be perfect for a Tav character. These brave men and women are used to traveling the surface, making contact with other people, and offering help and guidance wherever needed - basically what you do being the protagonist here.

Eilistraee clerics are usually, but not exclusively, drow women. This religion is open to all races and has many elf, human, and half-elf followers. For about a century now, the clergy is also open to men. So, you can be of any race and gender when playing an Eilistraee cleric. Specific orders, like the Sword Dancer, are still limited to drow, elf, or half-elf women.

Technically, you want to have the first level as a War Domain cleric of Eilistraee and multi-class the rest into School of Sword bard. The cleric uses wisdom for spell-casting and the bard uses charisma. You should focus on charisma because Eilistraeans are supposed to solve conflicts by diplomacy, whenever possible.

As a cleric of Eilistraee, you are practically the embodiment of Good. Her clerics are expected to be proficient both in swordplay and arts, most notably dancing, singing, and playing instruments. They are supposed to offer succor with their music and protection with their swords.

These clerics travel to communities of different races to provide whatever help is needed. They in particular travel to those regions where drow are not welcome, probably because of misdeeds done by Lolth-sworn drows. These kinds of pilgrimages are called "Run". Their purpose is not spreading the Eilistraean faith but the improvement of the peaceful coexistence of races, with the ultimate goal of making the surface a safe place for drow. Anti-racism is a pillar of the Eilistraean faith.

Even though we accidentally end up in the Emerald Grove while it is under attack by goblins and drow, that place would certainly be a place that would see the visit of Eilistraean clerics soon. The priestesses would provide healing, music, food for the needy, and protection from wild animals and dangerous monsters (the "High Hunt").

So, that's what you do: you talk to people and offer your help. You don't ask for anything in return, and when you get rewards you use that money to buy useful things for your companions. You do not steal or plunder, and when you loot dead enemies you only take what you need (food, coin, and gear you are actually going to use).

You try to solve conflicts without violence, as much as possible. However, this has its limits - and you don't carry around a sword because it looks good (Clerics of Eilistraee don't use bows and crossbows, BTW). You abhor slavery, and whenever you can't convince someone to let go of his slaves, you are free to strike him down. You also don't run around claiming to be a True Soul. If someone assumes that on his own, it is their business; but you won't claim it yourself - even when the outcome would be a fight. If violence is unavoidable, you should try to end it as quickly as possible with as few people as possible getting involved.

Being a "light side" cleric in a world where all gods are real would also mean that you should respect other peoples' allegiances. I don't think that it would be right to lecture Shadowheart on her Sharran faith. I would even go as far as saying that interfering with Shar ordering Shadowheart to kill a daughter of Selûne would be overstepping your boundaries as sort of an envoy of Eilistraee. This is definitely true for Gale: It is not your place to question Mystra commanding Gale to sacrifice himself. And if he is willing to do so, you would see your part in supporting him in whatever way you can on that path - what would also be the proper ending for that playthrough (don't bring him to the end of Act 2, though).

Even though Eilistraee is usually depicted as a nude dancer, this is not really a nudist cult. Rites are usually performed naked. During the High Hunt (in terms of BG3, the boss fights against the chosen three) clerics of Eilistraee are naked too and only armed with swords. In all other situations, a cleric of Eilistraee would be wearing practical clothing appropriate for the task; probably even less revealing and flashy than what is considered fashion amongst Lolth-sworn drow.

On a side note, being a drow and a bard gives you the highest amount of special dialogue the game offers in one run.

[cleabellanov]

Jet-Skiing Through Identity: A deep dive into Mobius M. Mobius (part 3) 🛥️

But why am I doing this? What is it that's so calling about Mobius's character?

Simple short answer: a lot of things. Simple but slightly longer aswer:

- His relationship with Loki being the only constant in the show, the only things we as viewers knew we can actually follow through the episodes. Being the one to treat "the villain" differently, Mobius already wins some ground from Loki's fans.

- He is relatable. Now of course, relatibility differs from viewer to viewer. But Mobius just has the charm of getting closer to you without really doing anything special.

-He is comforting, and I don't really need to bring arguments when that's his way of being. Also, we all know that if Loki can be comforted hy this character, so can we. Little variants of their own, these broken hearts... :))

Now, we got to the part where Mobius doesn't just give up when the hard thing to do is the thing that has to be done (just wait until I get to season 2. It'll get crazy).

The last episodes of season 1 are the ones in which this choice and internal conflict reach the climax.

After he gets pruned and ends up in The Void, Mobius doesn't let go without a fight. Actually, he quickly finds a car to get him away from Alioth and helps Sylvie along too. But why is he doing this?

The rush of adrenaline, the resolution that Renslayer: his friend for eons, just ordered his pruning, and the obvious life or death situation he is in. They all call the survival instinct - but also the adventurous side of Mobius - to action. I would like to insist on the second one, though. You can wipe a man's memory thousands of times, but that doesn't mean you wipe him the way he is. Those memories still exist, even though not in Mobius's present consciousness.

Then, his line in "Journey Into Mystery" is one I will never forget:

He has known so many timelines that got pruned, traveled in time and apocalypses, yet when it comes to change, it's never too late.

<<It's never too late to be what you might have been>> (George Eliot)

And again, why? Where does this strenght of character come from?

This willingness to change, this spark also has a lot to do with Loki. When he was saying that, he was talking to the other Loki variants. A simple man among them, yet one they seemingly trust. Seeing how his Loki was able to change and looking at these variants of him, he probably believes he can do the same, be an example for others that might need it. If the God of Mischief was able of "the word of a friend", Mobius is able of turning away from the very thing he diverted his life to. And that's because he know the truth now.

However, where Loki is an external factor, Mobius's strength and courage are an internal one. None of this wouldn't happened without him. Actually, things would've ended pretty quickly without the 1, that person to give Loki a chance. And, as I said before, the rest is history.

In the beloved miraculous historical scene where they hug, Mobius first gives out his hand. A signal that he's not very familiar with touch, and I imagine they don't often give hugs at the TVA.

So it has to be Loki that makes it into a hug. Mobius accepts that wholeheartedly, and I am so very grateful we got to see it on screen. The characters needed it as much as we did. And still do.

I had to put that in here, you can never get enough of them.

So here we are, at the end of the season. This character has come a long way, from the analyst that plays the comic relief at times - to the trusting, rebellious and loving companion, working with the opposite side to bring down the front on which he used to be fighting. More than ever, he is ready to fight for free will.

But there is still a longer way to go, because good characters never just stop playing with our hearts and evolving into someone new.

Therefore, see you for parts 4 and 5, because we're getting to SEASON 2 MUAHAHA

[directdogman]

Did you take inspiration for Karen's last from the FNaF trilogy? I was reading The Twisted Ones and there's a guy named Officer Dunn

Nah, not consciously, though I have read FNaF:TSE and remember the character. I'd honestly believe it was the case though if I didn't happen to remember the exact process that caused me to end up with the surname. It'd be out of character for me to base a DT character name off a fictional character (real world names are fair game/referenced in many names in DT!)

I kinda wanted to give a main character a surname that's also a colour to reference the fact that the main datables have consistent palettes and a nod to the fact that DT uses colour theory all over the game (with grouped colour themes/vibrant weird palettes on different screen bgs.) Hell, it's basically a trope in fiction to give characters surnames based on colours that correspond to (or suit) them somehow, take Walter White and Jesse Pinkman from Breaking Bad, say, a show that goes p ham with its colour theory (namely consistently incorporating it into names/costume design.) Anyway, i briefly considered 'Cyan' as Randy's surname (bc cyan is the base colour for teal, which is the colour of Randy's head, and cygnus means swan, which contains several of the same letters) but, the word 'cyan' is fairly commonly mispronounced by people who've never heard it said aloud (and when people do say the word right, they still sometimes tend to switch which syllable is stressed, at least in my experience hearing people say it) and I figured Randy deserved a surname that everyone can read the same way first time. The poor guy has enough confusion going on in his life without people misreading his name!

So, I brainstormed a colour based surname for Karen (already having most of the others decided at this point afaik), with the aim of maybe using an autumnal colour to match her palette (orange, beige, cream, brown) and then decided to look up 'surnames that mean colours' and voila, 'Dunn' came up on a long list, derived from 'donn', irish gaelic for brown. Also, sounds like 'done'. Like "so, so done." Relates to a colour in her palette (her printer head is brown) and there's a separate pun built in that suits her dilemma (working a job she HATES.) It was a no-brainer for sure.

Y'know, funnily enough, this isn't even the first time I've seen people assume I lifted a DT character name from FNaF. Hell, I've seen folks theorize that I lifted Marla's (Callum Crown's deceased + (formerly) long-suffering wife) name from the identically named character in that very same FNaF novel series, when I actually picked it bc the name is a variant of Marlene, which is in turn derived from Mary Magdalene from biblical canon.

There's biblical symbolism in DT's canon surrounding Crown and his inner circle (y'know, with the whole failed messiah schtick + him helping the disabled walk again with his prosthetics) and Marla's name is an extension of it. Magdalene is notable in biblical canon for being the one woman Jesus consistently traveled with (y'know, like Marla, the one woman in Crown's (quite typically) male-dominated cabinet) and also the fact that Magdalene was allegedly the first to witness Jesus' empty tomb post-resurrection... Marla wound up with sole custody of Crown's husk right after his accident. Both ended up with first dibs on the (now vacant) space their old messiah/former companion once filled. Brutal.

[baiabay]

No Role Modelz (ATSV Black Cat Variant! Reader Insert)

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3: Current Chapter

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

-------------------------------------

^^links 2 chapters!! this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name :)

---------------------------------------

Chapter 3: Out Of Touch (with reality hoes)

-----------------------------------------------------

“Miles!”

Hovering over Miles, surrounded by a sea of colour and light, was Gwen Stacy. That Gwen Stacy. How many months has it been since he’d last seen her? That didn’t matter; she was here now, in his room…opening his collective figures. Miles wanted nothing more but to leave. To jump out his window and swing freely with Gwen. Like old times. There was only one problem though…

“I’m… grounded.”

Miles winced. A pregnant pause, until he couldn’t stop the wince on his face from transforming into a grin after he’d heard the teens' response.

“Bummer - is Spiderman grounded?”

———————————————-

“So you’re telling me there’s an elite society with all the best spider-people in it?”

Miles swung behind Gwen, an expression of bewilderment behind his mask as his companion rambled about the society.

“-And Hobie,”

“Who’s Hobie?”

“- he lets me crash in his dimension sometimes,”

“L-like you stay the night?”

At the mention of the name a pang of jealousy flashed through Miles. He never knew she was-all of them were-seeing eachother all this time. While he spent it…alone.

“-Oh and there’s this Lady- Jessica Drew, she rides motorcycles, oh my gosh, I’m leaning so much from her-“

“Oh yeah? I-I’ve learned a lot of new stuff too, I leveled up my whole thing, see?”

Half showing off(and half to rid himself of the growing feeling of envy in his chest), Miles mimicked the graceful flipping style of Gwen Stacy, weaving through narrow gaps in traffic and hanging himself by the ankle. Now behind him, he heard a slight giggle.

“Look at you!”

There it was. That feeling he was so jealous of earlier. From Gwen, from the Spider-society, from The Black Cat. It pooled in his stomach and filled his chest, bursting out his seams in the form of an uncontrollable toothy grin and a giggle back. He felt it. Freedom.

“Look at me!”

—————————————

You were sat atop the roof of your apartment complex, chin resting on your knees. Purring was heard faintly as one of your cats rubbed its side against you, pulling you out of your deep state of pensiveness you had dug yourself into moments prior. You smiled softly as you scratched at the cat. Your smile faded however, as you replayed for the umpteenth time that evening, your conversation with Spider-man.

“Sometimes I just wish things were different, yknow?”

“Different how?”

“Different like, for me.”

“There’s a first time for everything, right?”

You scoffed before sighing deeply. He just didn’t get it, did he? Guess you can’t blame him too much though, if he knew why you did what you did it would practically be the same as ripping off your mask and turning yourself in. Huffing once more, you pushed yourself to stand on the roof. The sun was setting now, the sky blue with tints of pink, orange, and yellow. It was at this moment you realized how long it had been since you took the time to really look at the sunset. It was calm, it was serene, it was-

buzz

A text. Your landlord. Again. Rent was coming up, and you were short last week-pushing all missed fees to this week. Great.

It was at this moment you realized exactly why it had been so long since you took the time to really look at the sunset. Turning away from the painted sky, you collected your feline companions and trudged your way down to your room.

Rummaging through your closet you made it to a makeshift safe designed for the keeping of any valuable items you had seized. Cracking it open with eyes closed and fingers crossed-

It was empty. Great.

You let out a lengthy groan, shifting your weight back to lay on your floor. You hadn’t gone out heist-ing since the incident with Spot. Rolling over on your side, you were met with two bright, wide, yellow eyes, and a large tuft of black fur in your face. As if on cue, the large tuft of fur nuzzled your face before dropping a black leather mask before you. Your black leather mask.

A silent beat passed as you stared at the mask on the ground. Sighing once more, you picked up the mask, your words to Spider-man ringing behind your ears.

“The Cat and The Spider. We can’t truly change who or where we are. No matter…how much we want to.”

Now fully suited, you headed your way towards your window, looking back at your fluffy black friend.

“Thanks, kitty”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting now, the sky blue with tints of pink, orange, and yellow. It was at this moment Gwen realized how long it had been since she took the time to really look at the sunset. Miles smiles, a lighthearted feeling in his chest. Sitting on the underside of this secluded ledge, Miles relished in the serene feeling that enveloped the two of them. In this moment, looking out into the city, the two young heroes felt like they were the only ones in the entire universe. They were alone, together. It was nice.

“ In every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spider-Man.”

At the sound of Gwen’s voice, Miles turned his head. As she finished her sentence, his lips curved into a soft smile, and he found himself subconsciously leaning into her. Looking up at her, he blinked as he noticed how Gwen returned the smile, but held a tensed, tight-lipped expression behind it. Before he could comment, she parted her lips to speak.

“… And in every other universe, it doesn’t… end well.”

Miles flinched as he processed Gwen's words, opting to shift his body away from her. All of a sudden, his mind was swarmed with memories from his earlier interaction with his feline counterpart. Looking once again into Gwen‘s eyes, Miles took note that The Cat held the same pained expression she displayed now. Before he can even begin to think of a response, Miles' mouth began to move.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?”

Miles’ chest was beating wildly now. He had expected Gwen to run away – to block him out like The Black Cat had done moments prior. But the warm pressure he felt pressing against his shoulder spoke differently. Like he did with the thief, Miles sighed deeply. This time, with a content smile across his face.

———————————————————-

It was night time now, and you were on the prowl – grappling around for the perfect opportunity to strike, when you stumbled across the most peculiar thing.

You assumed it was an abandoned building, but you’ve seen a handful of those, this one was different. It had been almost turned inside out, pieces of itself sticking out of… itself? And –

“Is that…glitching?”

Whatever what was going on, one thing for sure, this whole situation felt eerily familiar to you. Every fiber of your being screamed that this was all Spots doing.

Shit.

No way was he about to steal another gig from you.

On tipped-toes, you made your way into the wrecked building, when suddenly you were tugged by an invisible force. Literally.

“GH-“

Before you could continue screaming, the invisible force held you close and slapped its hand across your mouth.

“What are you doing?” The voice whisper-shouted.

Spider-Man. Invisibility, huh? Cool.

Squirming free from his grip, he tried your best to glare in the direction of the voice.

“Um, what are you doing?” You whisper-shouted back.

“Cat!”

“I couldn’t help myself! I was curious…”

“Yeah, I hear that’s bad for cats-”

“No nononononononononoNO!”

The two of you flinch to the sound of this new, distressed voice. While Miles remained invisible, you quickly ducked behind a support beam, squinting at the source of the sound.

In front of you holding an extremely panicked expression behind their mask, was another… another Spider-person?

Just when your curiosity couldn’t have been piqued any further, this new Spider-person, from what looked like to be a watch(a super bad-ass watch, you might add), began to play a projection of-you called it, The Spot.

Rambling erratically about some sciencey-shit you’d maybe understand if you paid more attention in physics, you watched as the hologram of the spotted man stumbled over himself, as well as practically every possible item in the room. You inched closer in an attempt to gauge more about this whole situation, albeit, you still didn’t catch that much, only managing to cling onto words like ‘holes’ or ‘collider’.

“Shoot…”

The hologram played out, and the new Spider’s panic grew.

“shootshootshootshoot-“

The Spots’ hologram began to mumble angrily- was that your name you heard in there? And Spiders? A lot of Spiders’ name, actually. You had no idea he’d had a run-in with him too. Soon enough, the panic began to rub off on your Spider-Man, as you heard him start to mirror the words of the stranger.

“Shoot.”

“UGH, no! Gwen Gwengwengwengwe-“

“Gwen! Hi~”

A…pregnant… Spider-woman appeared before the three of you. You truly seen it all now.

“Spider?”

Calling out to him, you tried your best to remember where his invisible form last was. No response. You whipped your head around wildly until you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Do you…know what’s going on?”

Miles kept his eyes trained on Gwen, as she explained to the Spider-woman about her detour with him.

“I have an idea.”

“Do you know who they are? Are they… other Spider-Men?”

“… never see him again, all right?”

The new spider person(whom you collected her name to be Gwen), spoke. Her shoulders dropped, and her head hung low as the holographic form of the pregnant hero disappeared. You watched in silence as she reached a hand before her mask and tugged it off. The hand on your shoulder squeezed before slipping away. Turning in your direction, a maskless Gwen stared past you - into the night. Upon seeing her face, you flinched. Ready to run off had she noticed your presence. But she didn’t. With glazed eyes, she stared right past you. You blinked, and for a moment, your jaw fell. She was young, looked around your age with neck-length blonde hair, half shaved. Her brows furrowed in a way that felt familiar to you, in a way that said, ‘I wish things were different’. She remained staring for a few moments, you and Miles stared back. It was quickly broken by a flash of bright light, spiralling in patterns and colours you’ve never seen before, And pulling her mask on, Gwen stepped in.

You didn’t anticipate your Spider-Man to be standing upside down when he came out of his invisible state, yet there he was. Facing away from you, towards the orange and red amalgamation of light Gwen stepped into moments prior.

“Sp-“

“I’m going in.”

“Wai-no. What do you mean you’re going in-”

“I mean, Cat, I'm going in there.”

His voice was raised now, shoulders tensed. He jumped down from the ceiling, stepping towards the portal. Realizing he was unmasked, you took in the dark curls that framed his face. You felt a strong urge to pull your own face covering off.

You did.

“Then… I’m coming with you.”

“You can’t-”

Spider turned around to face you. Brows furrowed and mouth open to send a negative retort toward your way, until his breath hitched as he became aware of the bareness of both of your faces. You stood, arms crossed, staring into the eyes of the boy. He had gentle features, warm brown eyes. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on exactly where you’ve seen him. School, maybe? He must’ve recognized you, seeing as he stared back with a bewildered look on his face. He closed his mouth, form un-tensing. You took the silence to speak once more.

“I said, I’m coming with you.”

You stepped towards the portal, reaching to pull your mask back on.

“I said I wanted things to be different, right? Well, I – I feel like this is a chance to change things up…what is it you said again? That ‘there’s a first time for everything’? Well, what if you were right, Spider, th-”

“Miles.”

You looked at, with a soft smile on the young heroes face

“Miles, my name.”

“… Miles.”

You tested out his name before speaking yours, one he must’ve recognized, as he responded with a flinch.

“You said your last names’ Hardy? Like Walter Hardy? The noto-

“ Notorious Black Cat burglar? Yeah no shit, Sherlock.“

Your mouth stretched into a wide smile as the serious air between the two of you dissipated. The portal crackled, before beginning to shrink in size. Miles spoke,

“So you’re… you sure you want to do this?“

There was a part of you that screamed at you to stay. That worried about everything you were leaving-by leaving. Guilt seeped into the back of your mind and you turned away from Miles to face the dark city skyline.

You reflected on your conversation earlier. Did you really want to be The Cat forever? Become like your father and die doing this job?

Did you really?

“I’m sure.”

You and Miles both now reached to tug your masks back on. The two of you sent one last look back out onto the city before nodding at eachother, and diving in.

-----------------

[loominggaia]

DOGS OF LOOMING GAIA

(This is not a complete list of dog breeds, just some of the most notable ones for now. I may add more in the future.)

--

OGRE DOG 

Place of Origin: Redsnake Canyons, Wokina

This is the only dog breed on Looming Gaia which was not domesticated by humans, but by ogres. They naturally look to ogres as their masters and ignore human commands. The ogrish Crimsat tribe bred them to kill snakes, scorpions, and other venomous vermin that threatened their children. Ogre dogs are well-suited for the job, using their small size to raid pest burrows.

They have a knack for killing prey without getting bitten or stung. They will not eat anything poisonous, and they will even bark if their masters try to eat anything poisonous too. Many tribes take advantage of their poison-sniffing powers to identify safe forage.

This breed is loyal to its masters, but vicious to strangers. It is highly alert and always on the lookout for danger. It shows remarkable courage for a creature of its size. Today, these dogs can be found in ogrish communities all over Looming Gaia, serving as protectors and companions.

Ogre dogs are usually reddish-brown with black ears, while some variants have a more golden color. Otherwise they are largely homogenous in appearance. Their back legs are notably longer than their front legs.

RODANGESE RAT SNAPPER

Place of Origin: Rodanga of Midland Savannah, Serkel

This breed originated in Serkel, but today it is the most popular working dog for rural folk worldwide. Rat snappers were bred for protecting farms from pests, most notably rats. They can even kill larger pests, such as titan rats, with their signature attack: by flipping their prey over, stepping on its neck, and biting its belly. These dogs are fast enough to outrun most common pests. They are large enough to hold their own in a fight, yet small enough to squeeze themselves into burrows where their prey likes to hide.

Rat snappers are a high-energy breed that is not well suited to indoor life. They need space to run and work to do, so they are usually found patrolling farms, ranches, and even large ships and warehouses for unwanted critters.

This breed has many variants all over the world, and is a common mix in mutts. Purebreds can be identified by the thick manes around their necks and furry tufts behind each foot. Their manes help protect them from fatal neck bites.

LYCAN SNIFFER HOUND 

Place of Origin: Greenhearst of Blue Valley, Noalen

This breed gained popularity during the Full Moon Genocides, a historical event in which lycanthropes were hunted and killed in Evangeline Kingdom. Since then, these dogs have been widely used to sniff out people infected with lycanthropy.

They let out a distinctive howl when they smell a lycanthrope or werewolf. Modern sniffer hounds don’t need to be trained to do this; identifying and calling out lycanthropy is baked into their instincts. They are often trained to identify other hidden conditions too, such as vampirism. Aside from their incredible noses, these dogs are also courageous and tough, and will readily defend their masters from danger.

Sniffer hounds are used mostly for utility and do not make good family pets. Their behavior is described as “high-strung” and “obnoxious”, though some people enjoy the challenge. While some different color variants exist, the sniffer hounds used by disease control agencies are always solid white. This coloration makes them easier to see at night, which is when they’re usually working. It also makes it easier to see contaminants such as blood or bodily fluids, which is important during decontamination.

ZAREENITE IRONJAW

Place of Origin: Nasrin of Stonehammer Mountains, Evik

This breed was developed by the Zareenite military, specifically for combat purposes. Using gene manipulation and Zygrow(™) growth vat technology, scientists were able to create a dog with the muscle density of a gorilla, the hide of a bull, and the bite strength of a crocodile. Ironjaws are a fearsome powerhouse on the battlefield, and are sometimes used as mounts for dworfen soldiers. There are many accounts of ironjaws surviving high-caliber gunfire and even grenade blasts.

However, all this genetic meddling has taken a toll on the dogs’ fertility. Females suffer from atrophied wombs and are unable to carry a pregnancy to term, so ironjaws cannot reproduce naturally. Each specimen must be cloned from another in a growth vat. Centuries of cloning has made the dogs’ DNA rather unstable, and modern ironjaws are known to have some undesirable temperament issues and a short lifespan of just 5 years. Their behavior can be unpredictable, so only certified handlers are permitted to interact with them. It is illegal for uncertified people to own these dogs, and they are outright banned in some jurisdictions.

Ironjaws are a popular weapon for werewolf control, as they are the only dogs on Looming Gaia that can hold their own against these beasts. They are also used by police to subdue violent heavyweight criminals, such as ogres, trolls, and centaurs. Oftentimes they are given stimulant drugs or steroids to make them even more powerful.

Ironjaws have short fur with a distinctive metallic sheen. They may be silver, gold, or bronze in color. Their bottom jaw protrudes severely, exposing their bottom teeth. They completely lack tails, their ears are very small, and their noses are short, making it difficult for their foes to grab onto them.

MASKAMAR MARHUND 

Place of Origin: Kirkmar of Red Tundra, Halostira

Its name roughly translates to “Killer Wolf” in the language of Volkaspek. This breed is a cross between a Folkvaran war dog and a Halostiran tundra wolf. They are only available from a single breeder in the far-flung village of Kirkmar. This breeder neuters every specimen they sell, ensuring that customers must return to them for more, as well as protecting the environment should the dog go feral and try to breed with native wolves. The Folkvaran military is their biggest customer, utilizing the dogs for combat and hauling equipment across difficult terrain.

Marhunds are not good pets due to their aggressive natures. They are one of the largest dog breeds on Looming Gaia. They also boast the highest tolerance to cold thanks to their thick coats, able to comfortably withstand temperatures well below freezing. This coat is so thick that it acts as a natural armor, protecting them the teeth and claws of other animals. Their large size and strength makes them well-suited to pulling wagons and sleds. Aside from military purposes, they are also used for protecting livestock from large predators.

This dog’s most distinctive trait is its large mane of fur, which will cover its eyes if not trimmed regularly. It is not quite as beefy as it looks, as most of its bulk is actually fur. However, it is still powerful enough to best a tundra wolf in a fight, and in pairs they can even kill a polar bear. They are usually some mix of gray, white, and black in color, though solid black and solid white variants are also possible. More rarely they may be brownish. Their coats are so thick that they can quickly die of heat exhaustion in warm climates, so they must be shaved if they are taken south of the Shrieking Mountains.

GNOMISH WAR BEAST 

Place of Origin: Matuzu Capital of Midland Jungle, Serkel

This breed originated in Serkel, but ancient proto-Matuzan explorers brought them on an expedition to the continent of Umory-Ond, where they exploded in popularity with the locals. Though they were originally bred for killing rats on large sea vessels, gnomes instead used them as beasts of burden. The dogs’ short legs and long body made it easy for gnomes to ride them, with plenty of space left over to carry equipment. They were also trained to pull carts, dig holes for construction, and fetch materials from the wilderness.

Inevitably, these dogs became tools of war. Gnomes not only rode them into battle as war mounts, but also enchanted them with magic and forced them to attack their enemies, plant bombs, and perform other complex tasks. Other peoples, such as elves and goblins, were charmed by the dogs as well and kept them for companionship. This breed was utilized so heavily in Umory-Ond that it became synonymous with Seelie and Unseelie cultures, and most people have forgotten its Serkelite origins. Today, this dog remains a popular house pet in Umory-Ond.

Gnomish war beasts have a shaggy coat which is golden-brown in color, with a band of black around their middle. Their ears are large and upright. Despite their incredibly short legs, they can still run quite fast. Their demeanor is friendly and intelligent, making them good workers and companions. Their small size makes them well-suited to urban and indoor environments.

TIMBERLAND TATTLER

Place of Origin: Newell of Timberland Forest, Noalen

Ancient proto-Evangelite hunters bred this dog to alert them to thieves and animals sneaking into their camps. Today, with its famously shrill bark, it is known as the loudest dog breed on Looming Gaia. Tattlers quickly found their way into the homes of wealthy peoples worldwide, acting as living security alarms. This highly alert and intelligent breed spends all its time patrolling the homefront for strangers, and when it sees one, the whole neighborhood will know it.

Tattlers are frustrated by their own small size, so they are known to seek windows and climb onto furniture to survey the area better. This climbing behavior is impossible to train out of them, and they will always seek the highest ground possible, even scaling their way into trees and onto rooftops. Because of this, they are best kept indoors.

While they are excellent security alarms, they are not much of a threat to intruders due to their small size. However, their gentle demeanor and cuddly appearance makes them great housepets, especially for children. Timberland tattlers have many color variants, but are most commonly solid white or blond with white patches. Their wooly fur requires regular brushing to prevent matting.

FERAL MANGEMONSTER

Place of Origin: Arcadian Plains, Evik

Despite their name, mangemonsters are no monsters at all. They are simply feral dogs which have been exposed to high levels of toxic pollution, giving them a diseased appearance. This “breed” is actually an amalgamation of different breeds that mixed together over centuries, giving them a diverse range of looks and sizes. The features all mangemonsters have in common are mangy fur, visible disease or infection, numerous tumors, and low body weight.

Mangemonsters can be found all over western Evik and even in some parts of northern Wokina. Their earliest ancestors were domestic dogs who, for whatever reason, were abandoned by their masters and left to go feral. These feral dogs were attracted to landfills, sewage outlets, industrial yards, and other places where high volumes of garbage were dumped. As the dogs spent more time in these polluted areas, their DNA began to degrade, and after many generations they became the grotesque breed they are today.

Mangemonsters are born with a variety of genetic problems. They typically live just long enough to reproduce, with most never seeing 3 years of age. Numerous tumors and cancer is always a given, and they frequently pick up illnesses from their dirty environment as well, which they pass on to other dogs they encounter. All this illness gives them a bad temperament, and they have been known to attack workers and scrap-pickers unprovoked.

People fear and loathe these dogs, to the point that they have formed task forces specifically to destroy them and prevent the spread of more disease. This has proven to be an uphill battle though, and the mangemonster population remains high in the Arcadian Plains and Kingsfall Swamp regions of Evik.

While most people seek to destroy them, some instead take pity on these poor beasts. There are charities which capture and rehabilitate mangemonsters, transforming them into healthier, adoptable pets. Advocates claim that this breed is actually quite friendly and easily trained once their painful conditions are resolved. With proper care, a domestic mangemonster’s lifespan triples from 3 years to 9 years.

NOALISH FIELD TRACKER

Place of Origin: Kelvingyard Town of Blue Valley, Noalen

In their home region they are infamously called “hob hunters”, because they are the breed of choice for tracking down runaway slaves. Elsewhere, they are better known for game-hunting. With its sensitive nose, unmatched stealth, and great agility, there is no finer hunting companion than the Noalish field tracker. This breed is able to take down a wide variety of prey both small and large, though with its natural affinity for water, it specializes in catching waterfowl like ducks and herons. In tropical regions, they are even used for hunting flamingoes.

Field trackers are highly adaptable to different environments, from alpine forests to desert oases. For this reason, they are a popular pet around the globe. Their demeanor is calm and reserved, never barking unless they are in danger or alerting their masters to a kill. This quiet behavior gives them an edge when sneaking up on prey.

This breed has a distinctive bump in its muzzle, as well as floppy ears and jowls. Despite the loose skin of its face and neck, the rest of its body is tight and toned for optimum agility. It has many color variants, but all of them feature small dark spots covering most of the coat.

BORMISH HERD DOG 

Place of Origin: Buffalo Hills, Wokina

This breed was first utilized by the Balxee human tribes of Wokina. The Balxee were primarily ranchers, and these dogs proved to be invaluable tools for herding and protecting their livestock. Bormish herd dogs were big and tough enough to keep large animals like buffalo in line, while also gentle enough to herd small animals like chickens.

These dogs also defended their families against enemy tribes, particularly the Grograshni ogres and Pygmy centaurs. Even against these heavyweight peoples, the dogs proved to be vicious opponents. Large packs of Bormish herd dogs successfully overwhelmed many raiding parties and sent the stragglers fleeing for their lives. As the Burmek Commonwealth advanced, this breed was distributed to other lands, and today it is a popular choice for ranchers around the world. Even today, long after the commonwealth has fallen, these dogs can be found defending their masters from the many dangers of the Bormish wasteland.

The Bormish herd dog is a shaggy-haired breed that is usually light brown with a distinctive white band around its neck. It may have white patches elsewhere as well. It has tall upright ears and a rather flat muzzle. It is remarkably strong, and its unique jaw bones allow it to “lock” its jaw in place when biting, meaning it is nearly impossible to separate this beast from its enemy until it chooses to let go. This ability was carried forward into the Zareenite ironjaw breed, which was developed using modified Bormish herd dog DNA.

MORITE BLACKJACK

Place of Origin: Yerim-Mor Capital of Serkel Desert, Serkel

In the old days they were called “black jackal-dogs”, but over time this was shortened to “Morite blackjacks” or simply “jacks”. They are known as the fastest dogs in the world, and so they have become the breed of choice in competitive dog racing. In ancient times, however, they were best known as guardians of tombs, palaces, temples, and other places of great importance. Their focused, no-nonsense demeanor makes them excellent guard dogs even today.

This breed is considered sacred to some cultures throughout the Serkel Desert, which is why they are featured in so much artwork around the region. Purebreds are almost exclusively found in palaces, temples, or wealthy households, although blackjack mixes are common everywhere in the region. Their sleek, graceful appearance makes them a popular luxury breed worldwide.

The Morite military still utilizes these dogs for combat, and while they are not the strongest or toughest breed, they can withstand extremely hot temperatures that other breeds cannot. This makes them uniquely well-suited for work in the Serkel Desert.

As their name suggests, blackjacks are always solid black in color. They have short, sleek fur. Their neck, muzzle, and legs are notably long and thin, and their eyes tend to slant inward.

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