#i explode things with fireballs.

[wurmwizzard]

this sweet little kitty is about to be the most powerful necromancer on nern 🐈‍⬛️

im addicted to skyrim again and this time focusing on everything I haven't practiced in the past. So, I'm going full conjurer and swarming my foes with undead, all while looking cute to boot!

[archdevilsupreme]

Fellow arsonists and dearest onlookers,

THIS is the reminder you needed to maybe, just maybe, remember some idiot dragging along Cazador's corpse all around Baldur's Gate (for like most of Act 3, as I kinda ran into this palace at level 9 like a fucking idiot not knowing where tf I am until I thought, oh just fuck it and go through with it now (I did die a lot...)

I would like to present the "Bag Of Death- Shenanigans" to you!

These determined adventurers swore themselves to be as fucking ✨dramatic✨ as possible.

So they started putting every corpse of their enemies in a backpack. Which they then put into their camp chest. While they do often fight about who is a worse influence on the other, they can agree on being insufferable as a team thus I need you to imagine Mazikeen (my Tav) arranging this pile of corpses while Lord Fangs is just standing by complimenting her on the creative display and giving signature sass. He's not helping. Of course he's not. Why should he, his job is to make this shit burn. He's also 15 points behind on strength compared to her. I love the thought of her moving and carrying stuff for his majesty, Lord Fangs.

But anyway.... I'm straying...

Their teammates hate them & their bullshittery, all these two wanna do is commit arson all the fucking time. You thought Karlach is starting fires? Nuh uh, it's this hellfire duo, they're just little devils, all mischief, all mayhem- all the time. I love them for this. (Tbh we all know it's just me, I'm Fãerun's most pathetic revenge seeking arsonist.)

Also Astarion very much deserved to igni the fuck out of this pile (what a weird way to spell Cazador).

Thank you for your attention, here's to having fun with fire!

[bestworstcase]

i do think the key to how things will fall out regarding death on remnant is the jabberwalker, bc like

the brothers created death by creating him

the god of light, fearing they had disrupted the balance, tried to get rid of him. the god of darkness refused to countenance this, and they fought about it.

they leave the ever after. jabber remains, implying one of three possibilities: 1. dark ‘won’ the argument and both brothers agreed to let jabber live, 2. dark recreated jabber one last time in secret before they left, or 3. jabber came back later a la modern humans. given light’s general inflexibility my inclination is 2 or 3.

in any case the tree seems to accept jabber as part of the ever after and the presence of his figurine on the blacksmith’s worktable implies that he will continue to exist in some form.

during the creation of remnant, the brothers agree that death will be permanent. their reasons are not yet fully clear, but light was the only one concerned about enforcing this rule; i think it is almost certainly a rule that originated with the god of light.

“but balance cannot be restored by force or calculation; true balance finds its own equilibrium”

force = destroying jabber. calculation = creating a new world with permadeath.

—

the god of light conceives of balance as a fragile order that must be meticulously maintained or else fall apart: his purpose, as he sees it, is to maintain order. everything he does comes from this. he cannot tolerate change because he lives in abject fear of ‘disrupting the balance’ again—as he believes they have already done once, by creating jabber.

so there is a certain narrative equivalency being drawn here between removing jabber and making death permanent for remnant. both decisions are predicated on a fundamental misunderstanding of what balance is.

thus the problem of death is not that it exists, per se. the problem is that death is the locus of light’s anxiety about change.

he first attempts to fix the ‘problem’ by getting rid of jabber, eliminating death. but he can’t, because dark won’t let him. so plan b is to leave the ever after and create a new world where death is part of the design—which isn’t contradictory at all if the intention is to prevent disruption of the existing order.

and something to keep in mind here is that 1. the cat and the jabberwalker were both deathless and unable to ascend, and 2. the brothers created death by mistake. for light these are crucial factors that must be accounted for in the new design. the only way to ensure that the disruptive introduction of death can never happen again is to include death from the start, transforming the accident into a deliberate choice.

which is all well and good except for one teeny, tiny wrinkle: for humans, death is not actually annihilative. they don’t simply cease to exist when they die.

i think it’s extremely likely that wasn’t supposed to happen. in a system where death is final and forever, spiritually immortal humans pose an obvious risk of disruption—and the ‘afterlife’ is evidently just permanent unconscious stasis, so it doesn’t seem like human souls were preserved for any purpose.

if your aim is to design an orderly system that can be maintained exactly as-is forever, and one of your core building blocks is that death is permanent, no exceptions, then why would you ever create beings capable of rising from the dead? you wouldn’t!

but once humans with immortal souls exist you’re sort of stuck with them, aren’t you? and i think that dilemma makes the most sense of why light’s afterlife is… like that. the souls of the dead ‘resting’ in everlasting oblivion in another realm that living humans cannot enter is the same in practice as annihilative death as long as every being capable of reaching the afterlife follows the stated rules.

the instant dark decides to make an exception, the whole system collapses. it reveals to salem that death isn’t inherently final or forever—that this is an arbitrary rule that the brothers decided, and one of them is open to the idea of changing those rules. then the gods make her immortal and light reprimands her for failing to understand how important his rules are (rules his brother just broke with no consequence except that light got mad), but ultimately what she learns is that the brothers are fallible and their rules can be changed. her rebellion is underpinned by this revelation.

the divine order suffers one small disruption and almost immediately, catastrophically fails, just as the god of light feared.

but that failure did not happen because of the disruption; the system failed because it was artificial. the brothers designed it a certain way and then light focused all of his efforts to keeping it that way, unchanging, forever—because their world wasn’t an ecosystem so much as it was a lawn in arizona. that lawn can only exist for as long as someone is doing the work to keep it on life support.

anyway the point i’m getting to is that remnant still isn’t in stable equilibrium, largely because of salem’s immortality and ozma’s reincarnations but also in the more general sense: the people of remnant are spiritually immortal but made to spend the vast majority of their existence essentially comatose because One God is afraid of change.

you can’t bring remnant into equilibrium by eliminating death: killing the jabberwalker isn’t the right answer. and you can’t restore balance by restoring the old system of divine rule and rigid adherence to the original design, because that system was a spindly papier-mâché machine that imploded the second somebody breathed on it wrong. and you can’t just yank the dead back to ameliorate your grief because that isn’t your choice to make, that’s an ethical position the narrative has made very clear.

which… really leaves changing the nature of the afterlife as the likeliest direction. death isn’t the problem, the afterlife of eternal stasis is. death isn’t the problem, light’s refusal to allow beings with immortal souls to keep going after their first life ends because the rules say death is final is the problem. because that finality is just… not reality. a person’s soul persists after death, ipso facto death isn’t the end.

but the reverse idea that death shouldn’t happen at all is not reality either. salem can’t die and her immortality is isolating and endlessly painful. ozma can’t stay dead and it’s eroded him down to a miserable shell of who he used to be. afterans choose to leave their memories behind when they ascend—nothing can happen to you in the tree except what you want to happen. without destruction, creation stagnates. death is part of life, not its enemy.

i doubt very much that the endgame here is for afteran ascension to be directly ported over into remnant—these are different worlds, different peoples, different systems, and while people from remnant can spiritually connect with the tree they are still fundamentally not part of it. afterans are emanations of the tree; humans and faunus are not. when afterans ascend they return to the roots of the tree and flow upward to blossom again from its crown, and that is, to put it mildly, not a system of reincarnation that physically makes sense for remnant, where things reproduce and have babies instead of new lives budding from the cosmic tree. if reincarnation brings equilibrium to remnant then it will presumably happen in a manner more natural to remnant’s people, and may not even involve passage through the tree at all.

it’s also not the only possibility: for example, there’s no reason that remnant’s afterlife has to be eternal sleep. it could just be… a new realm, a new world to live in after your life on remnant is ended. the brothers’ departure from the ever after into the boundless potential of the unknown is as likely a model as ascension. maybe remnant’s dead can’t return except by an act of god, but “gone from remnant forever” can coexist with the afterlife being… alive, as opposed to cold storage for inconveniently immortal souls.

basically the narrative setup isn’t toward rejecting death, it’s toward rejecting the state of affairs where you die and then millions of years later a god wakes you up and you have no awareness or memory of your existence since the moment of your death because you were kept unconscious until that god needed a servant. the point is that death isn’t the natural end of existence (because souls are immortal, on remnant as in the ever after) and remnant’s dead shouldn’t be held in stillness by light’s futile effort to make the facts of reality conform to his intended design.

the jabberwalker has existed for eons without bringing the ever after to ruin; the balance shifted, things changed a little, and life went on. remnant is existentially threatened by the factual reality of life-after-death only because light is so convinced of this danger that he is determined to prohibit it by any means necessary, including “demolish everything and start over from scratch.”

even a god can tilt at windmills.

[nerosdayinanime]

wanna make my own kny httyd au

[kordbot]

finished lanks' route!! I would kill and die for liam one thousand times

[astarionxhappiness]

Summary: Astarion gets badly injured in a fight, and you have to take care of him while waiting to be found.

Word count: 5,781

Warnings: Astarion being hurt.

It was just another fight.

That was what you thought, at least.

Just another day of danger and adventure.

Never for a second when you woke up that morning did you think you and your companions would be scrambling for your lives.

"Head for the cave!" You heard Shadowheart scream to you over the sounds of the exploding fireballs.

Smoke filled the air thickly, making it hard to see. The thick smoke filled your lungs, making it hard to breath.

Your eyes darted around, trying to find the location she spoke of.

You tensed as a large hand wrapped around your bicep, making you nearly drop your weapon as you were yanked to the left.

Your gaze snapped in the direction of the newcomer, relief washing over you when you laid eyes on Astarion, though he did not seem to share this feeling.

"Things are getting far messier than I care for. I'd say it is time we leave, darling."

He kept a firm grip on your arm, pulling you through the smoke that filled your lungs painfully.

You yelped as you were both suddenly thrown forward by a violent explosion landing not two feet directly behind you, sending both of you flying forward.

The vampire managed to turn himself to land on his shoulder instead of his face, though thanks to the grip on your arm, it made it far more difficult for you to land with similar grace, instead falling direction on top of him causing him to grunt in pain.

"Has anyone ever told you that you weigh far to much to be throwing yourself on people, darling?" He questioned rhetorically, winded from the impact.

"Well next time let's try it with you catching me without my weapons and armor, hm?" You retorted, making him smile.

"Well, so long as you're offering," He replied with a sly smile.

You couldn't help letting out a breathy laugh despite the adrenaline coursing through you, smacking his arm before moving to get off of him.

You yelped when a bolt of lightning suddenly struck right beside the two of you.

You moved instinctively to shield the vampire with your body, looking down at him questioningly as the dirt settled, as though scared something had passed through you to hurt him instead.

He was already looking up at you, seeming taken aback by this show of care, still not used to such acts of love and loyalty.

Neither of you were able to dwell in the moment, though, certain that the next mage would likely not miss.

You yanked him to his feet, grabbing his hand and starting at a blind sprint, squinting through the thick black smoke.

You did not bother looking back for the others as you reached the edge of the smoke cloud, listening to the sounds of battle still going strong in the distance.

"In here," You commanded when you spotted a small hole in the rocks up ahead that you could squeeze into.

His hand still in yours, you took off running.

You were close. so close-

A cry of pain coming from your left was the first indication of something being wrong.

Your head turned, the scene playing out in slow motion before your very eyes as you watched with horror as an arrow slid through Astarion's back, the tip of it shoving violently through the front of his shirt.

Your scream sounded distant to your own ears as you quickly turned to grab him just as he started to fall, his eyes giving away the shock of being impaled.

"Shadowheart!" You screeched, struggling to keep him on his feet.

Now he was heavy.

"No- no nononono-" You felt your stomach in your throat, your heart pounding as you watched blood leaking from the elf's mouth.

"Astarion, don't you dare faint on me! " You cried, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, adrenaline driving you, giving you the strength to practically carry him to the nook that promised you both safety.

You slipped between the narrow walls of stone, panting as you carefully sat him down.

"Star, hey, look at me," You pleaded as his eyes seemed unable to focus.

"I don't. . I don't feel well, love" he murmured distractedly, sounding dazed.

"Hey, hey--look at me! It's not that bad. It's not even that bad. Just breathe," You ordered through tears that started to well in your eyes, your dirty hands coming to cup his equally messy face as you pressed your forehead to his.

"Just focus, okay? You're gonna be okay. I have some healing potions, and Shadowheart is gonna find us" Despite your assurances, you couldn't stop the sob that left you, desperately petting his face before moving off to grab the potion. "Drink, okay? Just drink." You put the rim to his lips, a hand under his chin to help him drink, using your other hand to help tilt his head back.

"Do you remember when we first met?" He murmured distractedly when he finished, his head falling back against the rock behind him.

"Yeah," You whispered. "Of course I do." You went to looking at the arrow, whimpering as you listened to him cough, a small bit of blood and liquid from the potion coming up.

"You were so unsuspecting. . I never told you this, but I always felt bad for trying to kill you. . " You looked up at him, sniffling as you leaned forward to press your face against the side of his.

"No, no don't feel bad. You aren't supposed to feel bad. You're supposed to b-be unremorseful, and cocky and-" You cut off when your throat constricted too tightly for you to speak. "Please," You whispered, letting out a soft, helpless sob. "You're gonna be okay. I don't want you to be embarrassed telling me this when you're better because you are gonna be better." You grabbed another healing potion, though you knew it was futile. The arrow he had been hit with had a poison on it. And unless you could get him a healer, no amount of the potions or magic you could offer him would fix it.

he let out a soft laugh, grimacing in pain, brows furrowing.

"I won' be embarrassed," He replied dizzily. "I want you to know that. . That I care about you, okay?" he took in a deep breath, letting out a slight laugh before whimpering in pain.

The sound shattered your heart.

He brought his hand up to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb tenderly against your soft skin, wiping away a tear.

You grabbed at his wrist with both hands, bloodying it in the process due to having been trying to mess with the wound to help it stop bleeding so much.

"I love you," You whispered. "You aren't allowed to leave me, do you understand? I won't let you. I'm gonna figure this out. We're gonna get you help." You could still hear the sounds of commotion outside, making your stomach churn.

The others could still be out there. In need of help, or dead. .

You pushed this thought away, knowing it would do nothing good to think about.

There was nothing you could do right now. You had no way to know where they were, and running back into the fight would only put yourself in danger, and possibly cause complications for the others.

You simply needed to have faith that they had made it to the cave Shadowheart had seen. Or, better yet, were heading this way now. .

"Star?" You whispered when his eyes started to lull shut.

"Astarion?" No response.

"Hey! Astarion, stay with me!" You grabbed at his shoulders as his hand slipped off your cheek, panic washing over you as you shook his upper half, careful not to cause more damage to his body as you did so.

You cursed, grabbing the knife you had from your boot and quickly cutting a line over the vein in your wrist before pressing it to his mouth, praying to god that it would give him enough strength to last a bit longer while you waited for help.

"Astarion, please wake up," You whispered desperately. "Please. . I need you."

It was a terrifying fifteen seconds before his eyes came open, having managed to get enough of the liquid down.

"Oh, thank god," You cried, keeping your wrist to his mouth, which he awkwardly adjusted around with a soft grunt

His eyes fell shut as he groaned, absently sucking, feeling far better with the strength it offered him.

"We need to get this arrow out of you," You said, looking down at it. "I'm going to need to break off the tip, and pull the sides out before I can give you the last potion. It should help with the bleeding at least."

He nodded dizzily, unable to respond verbally as he kept his mouth against your wrist.

"I'm sorry, but I am going to need both hands for this," You infromed him regreatfully, pulling away when you felt he had had enough to keep him conscious for the time being.

"Gods- Could you not have woken me up after you pulled the arrow out?" He complained as he felt you cutting into the end of the arrow sticking out of the front of his torso.

"No!" you replied heatedly. "Because I can't handle thinking I am going to lose you, and that means you are going to need to stay conscious, do you understand??" You looked up at him with what looked to be anger, but he recognized it to be pure and utter terror.

He couldn't help smiling. A truly unseemly sight due to the blood smeared over his lips, chin and teeth. Not to mention the greying notes of his skin as the poison started to take over.

Still, he was your unseemly sight. And you would do anything for the elf. Even if that meant whipping a miracle magically out of nowhere to save his sorry ass.

"Gods!" He cried out as he felt a sudden pressure on the wound when you managed to break off the arrowhead, careful not to touch it as you chucked it to the other side of the small nook.

"I know," You whispered. Pained.

"I am not entirely sure you actually do, darling," He retorted breathlessly. "I don't see an arrow sticking out of your rib cage!"

"It isn't in your ribcage, dear" You replied, pressing a rag to the wound, causing him to hiss.

" . . Regardless," He went on dizzily. "My point remains. ."

You looked up at him, frowning as you watched him try to keep his eyes focused.

You knew the blood wouldn't hold him for long. He was more lucid, but you could see the first signs of him already starting to slip away again.

"Just focus," You whispered.

"I am gonna have to lay you on your stomach. This is going ot hurt, I'm so, so sorry, Star." You took in a shaky breath, willing yourself to be strong for him. Doing your best to argue and keep him engaged.

"Wasn't I already?" He asked in confusion, making your heart sink,

"No, " You replied, bringing your hand to cup his cheek. "No, you're sitting up right now. . But I need you to lay down on your stomach. Just let me guide you, alright? Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you" he retorted, feeling your hands come up to help him maneuver carefully onto the ground.

He grunted, face smushing into the dirt.

"What sort of question even is that, darling?" He continued on, your heart twisting.

"A silly question," You murmured, moving over to sit on the backs of his legs, knowing he was probably going to try and flail when you did this.

"I need you to stay as still as you can for me, okay, Star?" he simply nodded in response, letting out a soft, dizzy groan.

You grasped the arrow carefully with both hands, surprised when you found it to be slippery with blood, only then realizing you had never staunched the bleeding from your wrist.

You grabbed a cloth quickly to offer a better grip, taking a deep breath before slowly and carefully starting to remove the long length of wood from his flesh, listening with a sickened displeasure to the mewls of pain that left his lips, his body writhing beneath you as he fought to try and make the pain stop.

"I'm sorry," You cried, throat tight. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry- It's gonna be over in just a second, I promise- I'm so sorry-" You took in a shaky breath as your resolve to stay strong was crumbling listening to the tortured sounds leave him in an unfiltered stream.

"Please," He gasped, the plea desperate and weak.

"Please make it stop-" He cried out as the last inch of the arrow slipped suddenly from his back, the resistance it had been offering you having suddenly stopped, making you go faster than you had intended.

"Okay okayokay, it's done, it's gone," You whimpered, bending down and peppering loving kisses to his shoulder as he panted in pain beneath you.

"You're okay," You went on, moving off of him and grabbing another rag quickly to press it to the wound, making him grunt.

"It's okay. . Hey, let me help you sit up, okay? You need the other healing potion." You quickly wiped away the tears blurring your eyes, replacing it with a thin layer of blood instead.

He offered you his hand to take, allowing you to help him sit up before he promptly fell backwards against the rocks, groaning as he did so.

"This is no fun," He deduced, breath heavy and shallow.

You shook your head miserably.

"Not in the fucking slightest," You stated, moving to press into his side as you gave him the last potion.

"This is the last one," You whispered. "But you can feed on me, to keep up your strength, okay?" You flinched as a firebolt struck right in front of the opening to your hide away, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I think I'd just like to sleep actually, if tha's alright with you, darling" He murmured, finding himself completely exhuasted.

"No- Hey, no you have to stay awake- Astarion!" You gave his shoulder a stressful shake, making him open his eyes again.

"Come on. Drink" You held up the potion to his lips, helping him swallow it back.

It managed to heal his wounds enough that he would not die from them. But it did little good against the poison working its way through his veins.

he coughed as he choked on some of the liquid, bringing a hand up to wipe off his lips, bloodying it in the process.

"Good," You breathed, pressing your forehead against his shoulder in relief when you felt his stomach stop bleeding.

"Just feed, okay? The others will find us. I'm sure of it." You shut your eyes as you brought your still bleeding wrist up for him, feeling his fangs sink in to the skin tiredly, though he did manage to still find the strength to bring a hand up to hold the back of yours, keeping your wrist in place as he gently sucked, swallowing the crimson liquid gratefully.

You hid the grimace of pain against his shoulder, willing to suffer far greater if it meant your sweet vampire being okay.

Though after a time, you were beginning to feel quite light headed.

Astarion had gotten quite good the past few months with learning to control his feeding so as not to hurt you, but with the poison affecting his thoughts, and making him barely conscious, he was right back to being absent-minded with it.

You didn't care at the moment. If he needed it, you would provide.

You would offer every last drop of your being if it meant buying him enough time for someone to find him and help.

You felt tears absently leaking down your face as you stayed curled up against him, your free arm wrapped around his back, holding him weakly so his side was pressing against your chest.

"I love you," You whispered, praying to any and all gods that might have been listening, willing to spare him.

You shut your eyes tightly as twin tears dripped down your cheeks.

You hesitated when you felt his grip on your hand loosen, and he let your hand fall from his lips.

You looked up at him, sniffling.

You were relieved to find that he had not stopped due to losing consciousness, but rather of his own volition.

"I . . I love you too, you know," He murmured hesitantly, never having actually been brave enough to say the words back.

You sniffled again, cupping his cheek dizzily as you brought your head up to press against the side of his hair, eyes shutting tightly as you let out a quiet sob, leaving a long, tender smooch to the side of his head after a moment.

"I know," You whispered. "That is why I know you're gonna be strong, and fight through this." you put a hand over the wound, sniffling once more as you tried to control your tears.

He smiled slightly as he looked down at you, his eyes unable to focus properly as he did so, seeing blurry doubles.

"Is it cold in here?" He asked absently, feeling a bit chilly.

You frowned.

Though it was perhaps cooler than it was outside, it certainly was not a temperature that should have bothered the elf under normal circumstances.

You put the back of your hand to his dirty forehead, stomach twisting as your fears were confirmed.

"You're getting a fever, I think," You informed him. "Most likely from the poison. ."

"We can't start a fire, I'm sorry." If the poor ventilation wasn't a problem, the attention that the light of the fire could draw most certainly would be.

"That's well," He assured. "I can just use you as a blanket instead, my sweet." He smiled at you somewhat cheekily, making you bite your lip.

"Happily," You replied, shutting your eyes when he leaned down to press his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

You laid him down carefully, watching him shiver unpleasantly due to the cold ground.

"Let me take off you shirt, okay?" You said, moving your hands down to work on getting his dirty, blood soaked armor off.

"As much as I love pleasing you, my love, I don't think I am in the shape for such activities at the moment," He replied breathlessly.

"Gods- It is to share body head, Astarion!" You objected, running a hand worriedly through the front of his hair to brush it off his brow.

"Hmm. . Sure," He replied with a sideways smile, eyes lulling shut.

You ignored him, working quickly to get his upper half exposed. You used rags to quickly cover the wounds with to keep out dirt before doing the same to your own clothing, the thin fabric covering your breasts the only thing between you two as you laid down and pressed your body against his.

You pulled the pile of clothing over the two of you for insolation, feeling him shiver as he wrapped his arms around you, coughing absently as he did so, his throat feeling a little flemmy.

You wrapped your arms around him, cradling his head against your shoulder as you laid halfway on top of him, acting as a human blanket as best you could.

You cursed yourself for having dropped your scrolls during the fight. You had had one or two that would have been rather handy to help keep him comfortable while you waited on the others.

You made him feed every hour or so. The second you started to feel that you wouldn't pass out if he drank, you let him.

His fever developed into something quite unpleasant as the hours passed, his shivering now constant, his coughing coming every minute or so as his body tried to fight off the invasion.

It should have killed him by now. By all rights, the vampire spawn should have been a full corpse in your arms as night fell. And yet, he was still with you. Fighting and struggling to remain conscious.

Though not without a great many complaints and a good stream of whining.

Still, you did not care. You would listen to him complain and whine the rest of your life, and be grateful for it so long as it meant he was still with you.

"The others will find us," You assured for the thirteenth time in the past ten minutes, the fever making him quite absent-minded.

"But how do you know?" He asked in concern for the eleventh time also in the past ten minutes.

"Because I do. I have faith." He huffed at this.

"faith. . Like Shadowheart has faith in her dark mistress? Or Wyll has faith we will actually free him from his contract?" You gave him a look.

"I don't put my faith in gods, or higher powers, Astarion. I put my faith in my friends. my family." you pulled closer to him as he sighed.

"You always were soft, darling," He lamented. "And I may very well die for it."

He grunted when you smacked his arm.

"The only way you are going to die is if I kill you, now shut up and be comforted." You pressed your body against him tighter, cradling his head protectively.

he smiled absently, chuckling as he allowed himself to press closer to you in return, feeling the comfort.

You were maybe optimistic and youthful in your faith in people, but you were certainly forceful and hard headed as well.

He whimpered as a particularly bad chill ran through him, eyes shutting as he tried to focus on your warmth.

You frowned softly to yourself.

He was burning up.

Well, for him, at least. For someone who was alive, it would have felt more like being a little overheated rather than feverish.

"I've got you," You cooed, running your fingers through his hair damp soothingly.

"Just focus on my voice, okay? We are going to get through this. And when we do, I'll take you to a nice tavern, hm? With a warm room and a soft bed. . And we can just lay there as long as we like, and enjoy ourselves, and drink fine wine. . " You listened as he took in a deep breath, relaxing as he allowed himself to latch on the to comforting fantasy.

"That sounds rather nice, darling," He murmured sleepily, another deep inhale coming and going before he coughed softly to clear his throat.

You kissed his temple lingeringly as you continued to smooth his hair back with your hand, listening for any signs of fighting or, hopefully, the sounds of a rescue.

Neither arrived however as you listened.

You swallowed heavily as you brought your hand up for him again, feeling your arm shake with the effort it took to hold it up to him.

You knew that your body was not making enough blood to replenish the stock he was taking, but you didn't care. you had to make it work.

You shut your eyes as you felt his fangs graze over the wounds he had already created the past few hours, though you looked at him questioningly when he grunted, shaking his head as he softly pushed your hand away.

"Star you need to feed," You said with a frown, looking down at him worriedly, unsure if it wasn't enough anymore to keep him going.

"No," He breathed, shaking his head, eyes remaining shut. "No. . I can feel your hand shaking. You sound weak. . I won't take anymore from you. . I will be okay without it for now, love." He turned to face you, coughing softly.

You stared at him silently, unsure what to do with that.

You felt you stomach twisting with love for him.

Even in a state of certain death, he didn't want to hurt you. . And yet, you needed him to, if it meant ensuring he would be okay. .

"I will be alright," You murmured reassuringly, shifting down tiredly to come face to face with him. "I promise. Don't worry about me right now, okay? I've got it." You brushed your nose over his. "I've got you."

He opened his eyes just a crack to look at you.

You were almost as pale as he was, and the weakness pushing you towards sleep was difficult to miss.

He shook his head softly, clearing his throat once more.

"No . . I will be fine," He replied, pressing his forehead against yours softly.

you sighed, knowing it would do little good to argue with him about it. Neither of you had the energy for it anyhow.

"Alright. . In a few minutes then, okay?"

"An hour," He compromised, though you frowned.

"Fine. . An hour." It would be the shortest damn hour that man ever experienced.

Ten minutes passed, and you nudged him again.

"Its time," You murmured. "You need to feed." You offered him your wrist, eyes shut.

"That was an hour?" He questioned in groggy confusion, shivering softly against you.

"Mhm, whole hour," You replied, with a tired nod.

"Hm. . " He did not offer anything more, finding himself unable to muster the strength to feed again.

He was getting less and less each time, and as the poison spread through him, it was becoming less effective as it grew stronger inside of him.

"Star, you need to feed," You murmured after a long silence, struggling to stay awake yourself.

"Star. . ?" You forced your eyes open when you realized his shivering had stilled.

Your heart stopped, your entire body going cold as you looked up at his unmoving form.

You brought a hand up to put two fingers under his nose to check for breathing.

"Oh, god," You whispered with horror.

"Astarion, love, wake up," You pleaded, sitting up dizzily and trying to force more blood down his throat.

It wasn't enough though, and you knew it.

Your heart was racing, making you feel like you were going to pass out.

There was only one thing you could think to do at this point.

You were out of time waiting. If he was to die anyway, then you were more than willing to risk going with him if it meant he had even a slim chance of getting help before it was too late.

You got up on shaky feet, stumbling with your hand guiding you against the rocks as you made your way for the exit of the alcove, mustering all the energy you had left inside of you to channel it all into your chest, your breathing picking up as your started to feeling it go into your shoulders and down your arms, tingling your hands with such power that it felt like it was going to consume your very essence.

The energy shot from you fingertips high into the sky as the words to cast the spell left you lips in a scream that released every ounce of your fear and desperation. The bolt of yellow energy tore through you, stealing every drop of energy you had left to offer.

It was, in a word, glorious.

People would have been able to see it for miles, the sound cracking like thunder, the force of it shaking the ground beneath your very feet.

A beacon that with any luck would offer a way for the rest of your party to find you.

You never even felt your body hit the ground, laying crumpled in a heap just outside the rocks where your beloved remained barely holding on to the last threads of life in him. .

Your eyes opened blearily, looking around you in a daze.

The first thing you recognized was the feeling of something warm curled against you, and the familiar scent that accompanied it.

You looked over, heart skipping a beat when you found your white haired elf snuggling against your side, passed out, but a normal, healthy temperature and complexation.

You felt your breath hitch as tears welled in your eyes with relief.

"There she is," You heard Wyll's voice from the entrance of the doorway.

You looked over, wiping the water from your eyes as you gave him a smile, letting out a breathy gasp.

"That was quite the scare you two gave us," He said as he moved over, sitting down by your bedside.

"We found you with mere seconds to spare," Another voice added, and Gale appeared to lean in the doorway with a smile.

A scoff followed, and you couldn't help smiling more as Shadowheart appeared.

"Hardly," She corrected. "Ignore Gale's exaggerations, Tav." She gave the wizard a look, who merely returned it with a smile, his arms loosely crossed in a relaxed position over his chest.

"Allow for the dramatic every once in a while, will you? "Either way, you showed quite the surge of power back there," He went on, sounding proud. "I shudder to think what you'd be capable of if you ever agreed to study under my teachings." You smiled a little more, letting out a breathy laugh.

"Perhaps after things settle down a little," You replied fondly.

Shadowheart moved to kneel beside the bed next to where Wyll sat.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, looking concerned.

"Tired," Was the honest response, "But I'll be fine." Though you cared little about your own state.

You looked over to Astarion. Wyll read the questions of worry immediately, and took your hand reassuringly.

"He will be just fine," He promised. "There is no need to worry about him. He is back to his normal self, more or less. He fought three separate nurses to lay in bed with you. Though perhaps now that you are awake, you might convince him to bathe and allow for his own treatment of care."

You bit your lip, looking over at the warlock and nodding, taking in a deep breath as you lovingly squeezed his hand.

"He does smell a bit, doesn't he," You whispered emotionally, letting out a quiet laugh as Shadowheart joined in.

"I suppose even vampires need a bath now and again to remain fresh," She replied playfully.

You laughed again, sounding on the verge of tears.

"Thank you," You said, looking between the three of them, throat tight.

"I don't know what I would do without all of you." You sniffled as they quickly moved in on you, crowding you for a suffocating hug, getting Astarion in the process as well.

"Can't a vampire get some bloody rest with his beloved anymore?" The grouchy creature objected as the action of their affections woke him from his much needed nap.

They retracted their affections quickly, allowing Astarion to see that your eyes were finally open, your body moving. .

"Come, I suspect these two are going to want a moment to themselves," Gale commented with a smile when Astarion's expression changed when he found you to be conscious.

You gave the three a farewell, looking back to Astarion who was already staring at you as though you had been brought back from the dead.

You did not even get the chance to speak before two cool hands cupped your face, and his lips smashed against yours in an emotional, adoring kiss.

You shut your eyes dizzily, winded from the sudden passion.

Your hands came up to mimic the hold he had you in, running your thumb tenderly against his sharp cheekbone, your stomach twisting with relief and joy.

You gasped when he finally allowed you air once more, your hands remaining on one another's face, staring silently into each others eyes for a time.

"I thought I'd lost you," He whispered, sounding choked. "Don't you dare think about doing that to me again," He added with angry vehemence, kissing you again before you could speak.

"You are one to talk," You retorted when you were finally allowed to do so, grabbing his waist and pushing him from on top of you to instead lay facing one another.

"You- God, Astarion, I thought I had lost you!" You felt your throat tighten, pressing your forehead against his as you shut your eyes tightly, a leg slipping to rest between his.

"That is apparently something I'm completely incapable of handling. So you are just- You are going to have to avoid doing anything like that ever again, do you understand?- No, forget that- You are never leaving our camp again!- No, never mind- I'm making Gale make a bubble for you, and you will just live in that bubble, safe for the rest of your life!-" You cut off to the sound of his laughing, the sound making your heart swell.

"Stop laughing at me, I am dead serious!" You said, doing your best to stay forceful despite his laugh being utterly contagious.

it was positively turning your insides to mush.

"Very well, darling," He said, smiling as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. "But only if you agree to live in this bubble of yours with me." You smiled, bringing your fingertips to run over the side of his face tenderly.

"Deal," You murmured, soothed by his tender touch and calm voice.

He sighed softly, leaning forward to kiss you gently before pulling away again.

"But honestly, darling, if you ever sleep for two days straight after creating what the others described as 'the most powerful burst of energy they have ever seen in their lives' ever again, you will be answering to my wrath. Are we clear?" You grinned as he pulled you closer.

"We're clear," You murmured fondly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"Good," He murmured, putting a hand on the side of your head as he left a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, your eyes shutting with blissful relief.

"Now, what do you say to a bath?" You questioned, putting a hand on his chest. "The others are complaining about your . . intoxicating scent." You grinned as you spoke.

"Hmm. . Five more minutes," He decided, pulling you ever closer and shutting his eyes.

You took in a deep breath, more than content with this decision, happy to lay with him longer than a mere five minutes should he decide he desired longer. . .

A/N Thank you my lovies for reading! If you have interest in being notified when I put out a new fic, shoot me a message and I will tag you as I put them out. :)

[yourplayersaidwhat]

The party whose entire thing is to try to avoid combat are in hiding, trying to figure out how to deal with an assassin with an element of surprise on their side

Bard: I could cast Sleep on her that worked with the last unhinged enemy... Ah shit no she is an elf. I am useless then

Rogue: I could do my classic move---

Bard: Exploding all of us like last time?

Rogue: ....no I have given up my magic studies 

Bard: Nonono fireball was good. Just do it when the helpful NPCs are not around her

Rogue: I meant more like getting close to her acrobatically and stabbing her

Bard: Not sure that is gonna be enough

DM [OOC]: Does [Cleric] have poisons maybe?

Cleric [OOC]: No???? Only healing potions??? Why would he???

DM [OOC]: Oh he is taking his oath seriously

Cleric [OOC with a very cheerful voice]: I could put a blood curse on her though!

Once the players stopped laughing, we did do indeed just that. Cleric used his blood hunter multiclass to put a blood curse on her, and Rogue managed to do his acrobatics to subdue her. And so the Avoiding Combat Party managed to avoid combat yet again 

[sang-i-fetge]

List of Jason Todd/Red Hood's weapons/gadgets/touys

Note: This is mostly from comics written by Winick, as I refuse to acknowledge most of n52. Feel free to add more, though!

Note2: This post was originally formatted in a different way, as I foolishly forgot about the image limit.

Blades

1— His iconic dagger!

Can cut through stone, and most of Batman's gear. It's been heavily debated what kind of knife it is; wether a kris, a parrying dagger, or a third secret thing.

2— The blades he gives Mia to defend herself!

I'm not sure what kind of blade they are, they vaguely look like wakizashis? Their size varies from panel to panel so idk😔

3— The katana for the 'duel' with Oliver!

4— And to link with the next section, the exploding katana!

Yes, it's a katana that explodes. Jason baits Oliver into holding it.

Explosives

— First of all, he blows up many many things and it's not specified what exactly he uses. So the unspecified explosives that only appear as a cool fireball panel get a bullet point.

5— The jumble of explosives in the Final Confrontation™️, we can see some dynamite, C4...

6— Bomb in a crate

7— Small bomb. Not lethal!

8— Bigger bomb. Yes lethal.

9— Continuing with this absolute icon: the bomb under the Batmobile (should I capitalize that?)

10— Small Rocket, used against Brick

11— Grenade?

12— Small, cylinder-shaped explosives. Detonated upon impact?

13— Small explosive that attaches to flat surfaces, used against Dr Freeze

14— Grenade.

15— Molotov Cocktail

16— Enough C4 to destroy a whole building, modded so it explodes if its temperature reaches one point, countering Batman's method of freezing bombs.

17— My absolute favorite, the exploding helmet!

Even if it's listed under 'explosives', it's also an important piece of technology in the Red Hood's arsenal.

Firearms

18, 19— The guns in the wall from Annual #25, there's surely more.

20— Machine guns hidden in crates!

21— Machine guns hidden in cars!

22— Rocket launcher, used against Black Mask

23— Even more hidden machine guns! This time in an electricity pole.

24— Machine gun (also hidden, but surprisingly not attached to anything)

25— Handgun👍

26— AK-47, you know the panel from where it's from

27— Submachine guns, I think 🙂

28— When out of ammo he uses his guns as blunt weapons, which I wanted to note

Tasers

29— The nazi-killing taser

30— The reason for the creation of this post! The grapple line taser! Attach it to a grapple line and it will shock whoever is connected to it. Noticed it in a reread of utrh and needed people to see it

31— Bonus: the bat-symbol taser. Iconic enough to be here.

Tech & Surveillance

32— Monitor and microphone?

33, 34— cameras :)

35— thing to see the feed of the cameras

36, 37— phones :)

38— his little tech den in #650

39, 40— computers :)

41— whatever this thing is

42— The surveillance device that looks like he taped a canon camera to his face

43— Wiretaps!

44— Bugs!

He also has his evil lair in B&R2009 bugged.

Miscellaneous

45— Does his crowbar count

46— smoke bomb!!

47— Injectable adrenaline. He just has that in his utility belt.

48— His batmobile-evade suit.

49— Is saying his belt buckle mean

50— Unspecified poison! Goodbye Egon

51— This thing that attaches to its target and launches them off

Not pictured:

The fancy weapon dressing he gives onyx to patch up the shoulder wound he inflicted (I forgot to screenshot 💔)

Also, he has this whole hq-ish thing in Annual #25

(Edit: That rectangle in the gun wall kinda looks like an anti-drone gun now that I think abt it)

It has a murder board, which I think is cute.

[galedekarios]

minsc & gale

recently i've been doing a playthrough taking minsc along during the limited amount of time we do get to connect with his character in the game and i have to say he's growing on me in a way he didn't in previous titles.

i wanted to take the opportunity here to write a short post about his relationship with gale because that, too, is something i found myself enjoying despite the (too) few interactions that we have between them.

minsc's initial thoughts about gale

Player: How are you and Gale getting along? Minsc: I do not wish to speak of the wizard. Minsc: I could not have said it better myself. - Player Option 1: Gale's great - what's your problem with him? Minsc: He came to me one night with a little book of mischief - full of words and their meanings. Minsc: 'Posterior', he says. 'Can you say 'posterior'?' I refused! Minsc does not need to know the language of wizards. Player: 'Posterior' isn't wizard-talk - it's another word for 'butt'. Minsc: It is an inferior word. Far too long to use in a battle cry, which is where a 'butt' belongs. Minsc: Gale would do better to educate himself in the ways of sword and steel than to throw these pointy words at Minsc. Minsc: Ai, yes. Gale also owns a cat. A cat with wings! That is most unnerving for poor Boo. Player: You should give him a break - he's only trying to help. Minsc: Never! If he is not careful, Boo will shred his books and use them as bedding! - Player Option 2: Did you know that he has an explosive magical orb in his chest that could destroy a city? Minsc: WHAT? Minsc: That is a thousand times more interesting than anything that has ever been written in a book. Minsc: GALE! MY GOOD FRIEND! WHERE ARE YOU? MINSC AND BOO WOULD LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT THE EXPLODING.

they may not start off on the right foot, but with gale's genuine interest in other people's cultures as well as his perception and easy-going nature that changes:

sorcerous sundries

Minsc: Minsc has never trusted places such as this. Too much of a wizard's power can be simply packaged and picked up. devnote: Grumbling as we make our way through the shelves of Sorcerous Sundries Minsc: Well, picked up by all but Minsc. When he touches the many delicate little jars, oh how the wizards shout and stare! devnote: Revealing that his objection of Sorcerous Sundries is not in fact a deep philosophical belief that wizards have too much power - they just make him feel stupid and awkward when he pokes at their things Gale: Fear not, Minsc. You have a wizard at your side who positively encourages such curiosity. You'll fit right in. devnote: Reassuring Minsc: Obliged, wizard. Should we find our way to a weaponsmith, Minsc will rough you up a little - so that you too can fit in. devnote: Warm, comradely, would genuinely be doing Gale a favour

i feel like it truly speaks to gale's character that he doesn't dismiss minsc here - neither his feelings of inadequacy nor his innate curiosity about the things he perceives as wizardly.

it would've been very easy for gale - the wizard prodigy, the former chosen, to archwizard - to act the part of the haughty scholar, akin to the arrogant wizards that minsc describes in this banter, looking down on him, shouting at him, but gale doesn't.

gale reassures minsc, encourages him, telling him he'll fit right in. it reminds me of the way he treats karlach and fostering her interest in books and reading. another pair of seemingly polar opposites that still find a connection. i do think gale is quite natural at this, despite his long time spent in isolation.

and minsc does appreciate it - his tone changes to one of warmth, one of camaraderie - and i think this is also when minsc's perception of gale changes: from the annoying wizard to someone he sees as a companion and friend.

rashemi traditions

Minsc: Gale. Minsc worries you might send a fireball up his butt, with all of this stringy hair in your face. Gale: Is that why you keep your head shaved? I assumed it was a custom of some sort. devnote: Curious, referring to Minsc's origins Minsc: Oh, no! Most warriors of Rashemen wear long battle-braids, weighed down with stone. Minsc can show you, when next we camp? Gale: Thank you, but I'm more wizard than warrior. I'm not sure my scalp would stand up to such a plaiting. devnote: Very politely declining

i like this banter for several reasons: i think not only does it show the progression of their relationship with minsc offering to show gale the traditions of his homeland, gale also shows the same curiosity he shows many different cultures and ways of life, same as he does with lae'zel for instance and githyanki culture.

when he declines minsc's offer, he does so politely, without insulting minsc's traditions, putting the onus on himself instead. he's the wizard, not the warrior.

house of hope

Minsc: Gale! You will perhaps able to explain where Boo has not - what exactly is the difference between a devil and a demon? Gale: A fascinating question, one that boils down to which criteria we choose to apply. Are we speaking about the physiological? Theological? Etymological? devnote: In teacher-mode - up for an in-depth, intellectual discussion Minsc: Eh. Just how-to-kill... -ical. devnote: Non-plussed, echoing Gale's ending every word with 'ical' Gale: Oh. Then for your purposes, they are exactly the same. devnote: Disappointed

this banter genuinely made me laugh. again, i like how it shows the progression of their friendship, to the point of where minsc goes from finding gale annoying to imitating his speech. and gale doesn't put it beyond minsc to have an 'in-depth, intellectual' discussion... even if he is disappointed by the end of their banter, realising that minsc's priorities are... elsewhere.

wychlaran

depending on your party composition and who you take with you, minsc can also call gale his wychlaran.

The Wychlaran, meaning "wise old women" in the ancient language of Halardrim, also known as the Witches of Rashemen outside their lands, were the spiritual leaders of Rashemen, communing with the spirits and guiding the souls of the Rashemi people.

minsc does use it, too, to describe a special bond and a sense of duty and protectiveness to the people he ascribes this title to. he did so in bg1 with dynaheir and in bg2 with aerie.

elminster

Minsc: It must be difficult for Gale to imagine great Elminster a-courting. Writing poems. Doing... certain... deeds. Gale: Long before my time, thank goodness. That's not an image I care to dwell on. Minsc: Ugh. It is difficult for Minsc to think of, too. Let us speak no more of it. Minsc: ... Minsc: Of Elminster and the sex, I mean.

another banter that did genuinely make me laugh despite the seriousness of the situation, especially given the bond that elminster and gale share as well, which speaks of paternal feelings on elminster's part that come with a certain sense of responsibility, as well as gale's admiration, but also often exasperation with his former mentor.

on a more serious note, minsc offers great insights in his interactions with gale and gale's story:

mystra and the vremyonni

The vremyonni or Old Ones were an arcane brotherhood in Rashemen. Men that were arcane spellcasters in Rashemen had two choices, exile or to join the vremyonni. Many vremyonni were kept alive for eons by longevity magic. Vremyonni were expert weaponsmiths and magic item creators. On very rare occasions, vremyonni would fight in the defense of Rashemen. Vremyonni used secrets of magic that even the Witches of Rashemen did not use, destructive spells forbidden among the wilds of Rashemen, in case such magic was needed. The Running Rocks harbored secret strongholds of the vremyonni. All vremyonni wore masks.

Minsc: Gale reminds me of the vremyonni of my homeland. The man-mages of Rashemen. Minsc: While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. Minsc: It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth I thought it born of caution, after some catastrophe wrought by wizardly men-folk of old. Minsc: Now I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm? Minsc: Though this suggests that Mystra has never tempted a witch into foolishness. Not that I would blaspheme by suggesting otherwise. Minsc: I forget why I began this long and winding story. Yes Boo - we have been spending too long around the wizard.

i think this is a very interesting banter, especially since it's also only marked to trigger if gale agrees to return the crown to mystra.

it's easy to dismiss this banter, laugh it off as just another instance of minsc being minsc, but i think it's important to consider it within the context of game canon and what has been shown to us.

it's a story and everything within a story is there for a reason.

another great insight from minsc comes if gale is pushed towards the crown by the player:

gale and godhood

Minsc: Who among us has not been spurned by a lover? But a word of advice, if Minsc may be so bold: Minsc: Let the wizard lick his wounds. Write some rickety rhymes, and weep most manfully into his hamster's hide. Eh - his cat's hide. Minsc: But... his boasting is unbecoming. 'Claim godhood', he says? Will this make him any less a man with a half-mended heart?

again, minsc does at times share great insight into other characters and he does so here again with gale:

will this make him any less a man with a half-mended heart?

i think it quite accurately goes straight to the crux of what makes it so very easy to push gale towards godhood: he is hurt. he feels abandoned. by his goddess. by his former lover. both as a mystran and on deeply personal level.

he is drifting, seeking something to hold his head above the water. if it's not the protag's love or friendship, it will be the crown.

anyhow, i never expected to write this when i first learned that minsc would be a companion, but i truly did enjoy him and his interactions with gale in particular.

[dekariosclan]

A detail that you may have missed in Baldur’s Gate 3 is that Ketheric Thorm refuses to pay his workers a living wage. I know this because you can wreck havoc at Moonrise Towers and none of Thorm’s cronies will intervene unless they absolutely have to. Two Adepts and a Zealot can be standing in the hallway and clearly hear the sounds of Gale shouting out spells, a giant fireball exploding, swords being smashed together AND their coworkers screaming, and they’ll still be like *shrug* ‘I don’t get paid enough for this shit, I didn’t hear a fucking thing, everything’s good here.’ All while the room directly behind them is fully engulfed in flames.

[glade-constellation]

Okay, finally about to get all my thoughts down after yesterday’s episode. I’m going to start with Moon since he’s being the one most talked about.

This is going to be a long post, so I’ll put a cut here <3

Moon

A lot of people are hating on how Moon reacted to Sun’s current trauma. I agree that he is not handling the situation well. As much as I understand where he’s coming from, running from Sun is not going to help at all. Sun desperately needs his family with him right now. No one else may have considered Nexus daily anymore, but it was still clear that Sun cared. He basically had to kill his own brother. Not only that, he was made to feel as if he chose to kill his own brother. (There was no choice in the matter, it was physiological torture set up specifically to make Sun feel guilty for his actions. Sun may have threw the “fireball” but Dark was the one who forced him to.)

Anyways, back to Moon. I think what a lot of people are forgetting is that Moon also just lived through a trauma. He was kidnapped and tortured, almost killed before Ruin saved him. The only reason Ruin saved him, as Ruin explained himself, was because Ruin hated Dark and Nexus. It was not because he wanted to save Moon, it was because he wanted to thwart Dark and Nexus’ plans. When he’s finally on his way to getting out, he finds two of his brothers being tortured, and almost watched one of them die before he got there. (I think that’s why he started screaming when he did. He was buying time for Solar by directing Nexus’ attention at him.) He then watched Nexus die. He was not close to Nexus in any way, but watching anyone die in front of you is not great for your mental health.

After all this, Moon is then told he has to not only process his own trauma, but take on Sun’s trauma as well. Moon does want to help, but he is too overly burdened by his own problems and knows he wouldn’t be of any help. To make up of his guilt, he is coving up his own trauma response by saying he’s doing it for Sun. He very likely knows this isn’t going to help Sun emotionally, but he feels he can stop any farther trauma to Sun by stopping whatever’s causing it. It’s both genuinely feeling this is the only way he can help Sun, and feeling guilt over not being able to help him in the way that is currently needed.

Is that the best response? No. But is it a very Moon response? Yes. This is actually exactly how he used to fix problems. Moon should not have abused Sun in the way he did, and he still needs to apologize for that, but Moon genuinely thought in some of these instances that he was helping Sun. He is not an emotionally available person, so he cannot handle his own emotions on top of others. So he does the next best thing he can think of and tries to stop what’s causing the trauma. Moon has just as much trauma as Sun does, people just don’t tend to feel that way because he took out his emotions on Sun to process them. At least this time he’s not taking it out on Sun. At least he is trying to actually stop the problem.

All in all, Moon isn’t as in the wrong as everyone keeps saying. Yes, he definitely should go talk to Sun. Hell, even just sitting in the same room as Solar does all the talking would be a big help. Just showing that he is there for Sun. But then Moon would feel more guilty, because he wouldn’t see how he’s helping and would still want to go after Dark and Ruin. He may seem apathetic, but he genuinely is trying to fix the situation.

(Edit : I also think people are forgetting that Moon had absolutely no insight as to what the real situation was. Sun did not tell them he was forced to make a choice, he simply saw Nexus explode. He probably thinks Sun intentionally killed Nexus. He does not realize the true gravity of the situation like we do.)

Sun

Obviously, Sun is the most emotionally distressed over the situation. The entire time he was talking with Nexus, a few episodes before his death, Sun tried to say he didn’t care about Nexus. Nexus saw through the lies, he knew Sun for an entire year by this point. They used to be brothers, Nexus wasn’t going to believe Sun didn’t care because Sun never stopped caring. As much as Sun was hurt by Nexus, that was still his brother. It’s kind of similar to his feelings of Moon at the beginning of the show. Moon did some genuinely terrible things to him, but Sun still cared. The only reason this situation is any different is because Moon would sometimes try and show regret over his actions, and Nexus blatantly didn’t care.

Sun found out his brother was kidnapped, had to bargain with the enemy to try and get past another enemy, almost got caught in the crossfire of a deadly fight, and was then tortured by someone he used to call a brother. He was almost forced to watch Solar die purely as a revenge tactic to get back at him, and Sun would have felt it was his fault Solar died. The was only stopped by Moon rushing in to start fighting. Right when it looked like Nexus was about to kill everyone, Dark forced Sun into a rigged choice between killing his brothers. (Edit: It was Ruin’s device that killed Nexus. Sun had no part in physically killing him.)

Once again, really want people to understand that Sun did not kill Nexus. He was simply made to feel like he did. It’s psychological torture, make someone feel as if they are choosing a certain outcome when you are actually in control so that the person will be traumatized by “their own” actions. Dark was very in control of the situation. He very much knew who Sun was going to choose, but forced him into doing so in a way that would make Sun feel like it was his fault. Sun is in no way at fault for Nexus’ death. That is completely on Dark.

In the end, Sun is forced to watch his former brother, someone he still cares very deeply about, die a very violent and painful death. He is forced to think he is the one to cause it. He was already in high distress before hand from Moon’s kidnapping and attempted rescue. Now he is dealing with what is quite possibly his worst trauma yet. This forces him to shut down and dissociate from the problem.

Notice how Sun forces himself not to breakdown until he gets back to the house, and even then he goes to his own room and very quietly starts to cry. Even while he was in extreme emotional pain, he was trying to be considerate of the people around him. He didn’t want to force them to handle him while he was suffering, so he made his suffering as silent and unseen as he could. Because Sun never stops caring.

To say the least, Sun is in an unbearable amount of pain right now. It will be a very long road to recovery for him, if he ever recovers from this.

Solar

Solar seems to be the most level headed in the situation, which isn’t an odd thing. He will usually take on that role in these types of situations. He was also one of the first to say killing Nexus was their best option. He was probably the most prepared for this kind of outcome.

The thing is, as much as Solar might not like it, he is still an Eclipse. He still deals with his problems like most Eclipses do, though arguably better than others. He finds work to do, and he drowns himself in it to avoid his own feelings. Eclipses are kings of repression. Solar doesn’t want to acknowledge his own feelings, so he’s going to forget he even has them.

His current choice of work? Helping Sun. To him, Sun is obviously more hurt than he is, so his own emotions don’t matter. He feels Sun needs more help than him, so he’s not going to show any distress so that the others will focus on Sun and not him. If they focus on him, he will have to feel his feelings, and he doesn’t want that. He wants Sun better, because to him Sun obviously is the one more in need.

I think that’s one of the reasons he got so upset with Moon over the whole “go talk to Sun” situation. No one is helping Sun, and he’s confused on why no one is helping. Sun obviously needs it, why is everyone just leaving him alone? They need to go check on Sun, he’s obviously not okay right now. Why is no one helping Sun?

I thinks there’s a lot of factors at play here, besides just repression. I think is also somewhat projection and reliving trauma too. He basically lived the beginning of his life without help when he was in emotional distress. His Moon never cared about him, blamed him for Sun’s death, and constantly verbally and physically abused him. He was never allowed to grieve. Seeing Sun hurting like this and not getting help is reminding him of his own feelings in past situations where he never got help. He may not realize it, but it’s a possibility. Also, he still has the attachment to his own Sun. I don’t think he likes seeing any Sun (besides Dark) in any sort of pain.

Then there’s the last thing.

Solar had to kill his Moon.

This situation is striking way too close to home.

Solar is probably the only one who genuinely can feel empathy for Sun’s current situation. He’s the only one who knows what it feels like to “pull the trigger”. Nexus was also acting very similar to how Solar’s Moon used to act. And Solar never got any help when it happened. He didn’t even tell anyone, he covered it up and tried to forget. I think Lunar is the only one who knows about it, and Lunar never did anything about it. Solar was forced to go through nearly this exact situation, and he does not want to see Sun go through what he had to go through.

(On top of all this, Solar was very close to Nexus before his death. He’s not showing it, but he is very much hurt by what is happening. The only reason he is probably not in more distress is because he prepared for this being a possible outcome.)

Earth

To be completely honest, I have been way more focused on the others in this situation. Earth is also one of the easiest characters to read, as she verbally voices her feeling to everyone and has never really felt the need to hide them. We already know she’s upset by the situation, and is probably going to have some sort of mildly poor coping mechanism, but she is going to be the most emotionally okay out of everyone. Not because she is feeling okay, but because she’s the most in tune with her own feelings, and with how to properly handle those feelings.

I’m not saying she’s going to be perfectly okay over this. She is obviously still very hurt and troubled. I am also not trying to downplay her emotions. She is definitely going to need the others to help her. This portion isn’t short because I don’t like her, it’s just short because she is genuinely the best off in this situation. She knows how to find help when she needs it and, even better, she will ask for it.

Monty & Lunar

I’m sticking them together because I feel very similar ways about them.

I do not understand their reactions to the current situation.

Monty is more understandable. He was always closer to Moon than he was to Nexus. That much was very obvious. The moment Moon came back they got drunk and partied, and then feel right back into their old friendship. Monty was seemingly completely unaffected by Nexus’ change of heart. He very much only cares about themself and Earth.

The way he’s acting currently is not helping the situation. At all. It’s even worse than Moon’s reaction, in my opinion. Moon at least feels he is helping Sun. Monty is doing nothing. “Nexus is dead? Cool. Let’s hide this from Earth because it will hurt her and I can’t stand seeing that.” That is going to hurt Earth a lot worse in the long run if she was never told. She doesn’t like lies, even by omission. You already are hurting others by being apathetic, do not hurt Earth because seeing her hurt will hurt you. That’s fucked up.

Then there’s Lunar. I’ve already talked about my feelings on him, but I still cannot figure him out. He’s always been a very apathetic character when he’s not interested or running from emotional pain. But this? This feels almost malicious. He doesn’t seem to care. Usually when he is running, he’ll verbally tell everyone he knows what he’s doing. He knows it’s bad. But right now he is not saying anything. His is either dissociating from the problem to the point he is numb, or he is so genuinely unbothered that there isn’t any sort of care in his heart.

This doesn’t feel like Lunar. This has never been his reaction to anything before. We haven never seen this from him at this scale. It feels so violently out of character for someone who is very emotional and loud about it.

At this point, I am starting to wonder if the Star power is having a bigger effect on him than we think. We all know that the Astrals deal with apathy to most things. Even Castor and Pollux has said they don’t react to things like most people expect them to. They do not have the ability to care in a way the feels human. Since Lunar has been training to become an Astral, I’m starting to wonder if this will begin to mentally change him as well.

I am not saying that apathy is a bad thing to have. I am not saying Lunar is wrong to feel this way. I am simply saying it feels violently out of character, and is not helpful in the situation at all.

These two are currently being the least helpful in this situation. They do not care, and do not feel the need to soften their apathy and help the others. Lunar is actually the most unsympathetic out of the group, which is actually a stark contrast to how he usually is portrayed.

[bogleech]

been reading up on your old Silent Hill Prompts and the fanart people drew of them, and not I kind of want to see what you'd come up with if you could the later games. Like what would you do for a War Veteran or a Lonely Trucker Who's Maybe A Bit Too Into True Crime?

Okay so for people not really up on Silent Hill or my opinions on it, the second game (series-defining and still considered the all time best) established that no two people have the same Silent Hill and that the town manifests vague nightmare forms out of their memories. Despite this, most of the series kept repeating monsters designed specifically for SH2's protagonist, and modeled all other monsters loosely around how his looked. In Homecoming you play a war veteran, and it has some cool monsters honestly, but none of them feel remotely war themed. In fact they're mostly themed around sexuality, which was also already the theme for a lot of 2's monsters.

The only one that feels like "war imagery" is the Smog, but it's kind of bland. The only thing that really sticks out about it to me is that its fleshy tumors kind of look like an explosion. I think that's what I'd have run with. Creatures that look like they're exploding or even look themselves like "blasts," roiling and moving like fireballs and gas clouds but they're solid, meaty things. Maybe some with vague figures writhing inside?

Not mangled gory Hellraiser haunted house stuff but abstract impressions of destruction hastily formed from flesh, burning and dissolving everything they touch.

Environmentally, instead of the rusty look of all the other silent hills I'd made his look like everything is the inside of a military vehicle. This is the interior of a tank apparently:

So other SH games indicated your proximity to the other world by the degree of blood, rot, rust and arbitrary metal stuff, and arguably that still fits in with war, but I'd define this guy's nightmare realm by extreme claustrophobia and convoluted mechanical bits. At first perhaps just a couple more buttons and dials than you'd expect, and in odd places like the outsides of houses. When he's fully immersed in his Silent Hill it looks like that photo and all that stuff is pulsing and churning and threatening to swallow him up.

This went on longer than I thought so I'll have to think on the Lonely Trucker game a bit more.

For those who don't know though, there's an upcoming brand new Silent Hill (not the shitty Bloober remake of 2) that actually does finally test out a radically new and different visual theme and that looks VERY promising, exactly how far I always wanted the games to vary:

[randoimago]

How would Gale, Astarion (spawn), and Wyll each react to his lover being taken hostage and the hostage taker threatens to send his lover back to him in pieces if their demands are not met?

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Gale, Astarion, Wyll

Note(s): So I wrote a more specific version of this request with S/O being kidnapped by Orin (didn't write that for Wyll tho). But I figured that their responses to Orin kidnapping is pretty different from just some random kidnapper so I'm happy to write this request.

I'm also assuming that the lover kidnapped is Tav for this. The act isn't really specified in this ask either, so I kind of have this set for Act 3 with what events are mentioned.

Astarion

Astarion lets out a laugh when he hears that threat. I mean, with all the bullshit that he's gone through with his S/O, he knows that the kidnapper doesn't stand a chance.

Sure, there's a tiny bit of him worried, but you've fought champions of evil gods together. If anyone is going to be in pieces then it's the hostage taken.

Really, he gets the ransom note and just folds it nicely and places it in his pack. He really hopes that his S/O picks up a nice bottle of brandy on their way back.

Gale

Gale is a bit intrigued when he hears of the ransom for his S/O. Surely, this person that kidnapped them knows who they are by now? Gale will gladly recount the devil they fought in some massive tomb to an evil goddess. Or maybe recalling the events of killing a Spectator will be scarier? A giant metal monster in the Underdark?

Gale really isn't too worried about his S/O (well, maybe a little). Gale knows you're strong and he's certainly strong enough to deal with some random idiot.

If the hostage taker somehow hasn't soiled their trousers from all the crazy things his S/O has already done, then Gale wouldn't mind starting to make beeping noises and act like he's about to explode. That usually does the trick. Or he'll yell out "Fireball" and see if they start running.

Wyll

The most worried about his S/O just because he loves them so much and can't help being worried. Wyll is full of stress because everyone he loves keeps being kidnapped apparently.

He also knows that his S/O is strong and can probably get out of the situation themself, but Wyll is at least willing to hear what kind of demands are being asked. What does this person expect to gain from a group of adventurers that are currently trying to save the world?

Charisma is Wyll's highest stat so he'll probably try some negotiations and diplomacy to get his S/O out of the situation. Just so there's less blood stains needing cleaned up.

[dailyadventureprompts]

So I don't usually get involved in class balance discourse but recently I stumbled across this video and it made me realize something about D&D's game design, specifically WHY casters get access to room/encounter clearing amounts of damage while martial characters are stuck with their low damage iterative attacks.

See, since d&d was one of the first things to emerge from the primordial soup of ttrpgs there were a lot of developments in game design that we take for granted today that simply didn't exist as concepts back then. One of these was asymetricality: the idea that different players at the table might be using their own set of mechanics to interact with the game at different levels.

Today we understand that while our DMs/GMs/Storytellers/Directors are fellow players, the game is FUNDAMENTALLY DIFFERENT from their perspective and the mechanics they have access to should probably reflect that.

I've complained before that d&d's monster making system is nigh unusable because it expects you to do a lot of extraneous work for a creature that's going to be dead in three rounds. This is because the game has traditionally modelled monsters in nearly the same way that it models player characters, which seems like the most backwards bit of game design ever until you remember that d&d evolved from wargames, where having a unified system with clearly defined math was important for maintaining competitive balance.

Magic is unbalanced for the same reason that monsters are over-complicated, because it expects the party and the dungeonmaster to be using the same mechanics despite their fundamentally different play experiences.

Think about it: however much fun it is to make things explode Fireball and it's big brother Meteor Swarm are not well designed player spells. They're really USEFUL for a DM looking to deal a lot of damage to a relevant level party, but encounter balance starts to go out the window once the players get their hands on them.

So how do we fix this? Honestly, not sure. I'm really interested in how the 5e successors are taking advantage of the asymmetrical nature of the GM/Player dynamic, as everyone's seemed to have independently learned the lesson that there should probably be a different set of mechanics depending on whether you're behind the screen or not.

For D&D itself though, I think it's one of those things that I'm going to need to tinker with for a while and up my game design skill. Learning where the game breaks down teaches us how to improve it. Currently I'm experimenting with retooling player HP and making counter-magic a LOT more common to make the use of those big encounter-ending spells more tactical. I might also take a look into it if I ever feel like tangling with the spell economy.

[littlelostmabari]

I went off script. I needed to procrastinate.

Ok look. So, and stay with me here, @miradelletarot posted a kiss roulette and then @waterdeep-weavemoss posted an ask and I realized that Mira might want to read snippets instead of getting asks so I asked an RNG to give me a prompt and I got #21 first but I dun wanna choose that’s why I wanted a RNG in the first place!!!!!11!!

So I asked again and here is #5: "A firm kiss". Not beta read, written in an hour, so forgive me if there are typos.

Pairing: Gale x gn!Reader (undescribed other than you're shorter than Gale)

Wordcount: 1k

CW: Blood, wounds, all the gross things you find in Orin's temple. Spoilers for Act 3.

(Dividers by cafekitsune)

The pounding in your head is the first thing you notice as consciousness enters your mind. The pounding of your head, and then rapidly the smell of refuse and blood. The stone slab that served as your place of rest was uncomfortable at best, and the lack of support to your hips and neck and knees offers secondary pain. The next sensation was skin rubbed raw against your wrists and ankles, and those superficial wounds were the first things that were tingling as Shadowheart’s sixth level Heal poured into the cracks and aches and throbbing pain. Your eyes still refused to open, your body denying the trauma of your incarceration.

“They're okay!” you hear Karlach shout from somewhere to your right, as a blast of heat rolls over you from the same direction. You’d fixed her arcane engine, so it couldn’t have been your dearest tiefling friend approaching. “They're okay! Fringe’s got em!” Another blast, and this time, as you roll a parched tongue over cracked lips, you can taste the sweet smell of the Weave being summoned into a raging conflagration. This time you hear the noise of something exploding, and your eyes fling open at the threat. Your vision is occupied by the darkness of a high ceiling, but a wisp of silver draws your attention to the left where Shadowheart has her eyes closed in concentration. One hand is on your exposed stomach, the sensation of which slowly enters your mind; the other hand is raised with palm pressed forward in prayer, wrapped in Selûne’s white glow. 

You realize that your breaths have been shallow, but something in your lung expands under the cleric’s care, and your first deep breath enters your lungs. With it is the smell of death and decay, and the familiar stench of the undercity. The rattling of your breath coincides with the final stages of the spell, and Shadowheart opens her eyes to meet yours. There are tears mussing her eyeliner, the black staining against her pale skin and framed by her paler hair. She collapses on top of you with a sob, her arms pulling your head into her shoulder. Aches and bruises that the Heal could not reach cry out as you snake your arms around her as well, clutching her tightly. 

Stomping feet approach from your right, and Shadowheart releases you gently. A month ago she would have shied from such emotion, but there was tenderness in her gaze that hesitantly left your face and looked up. You follow, and Karlach is there with a grin and a hearty slap on Shadowheart’s shoulder. The wince on Shadowheart’s face evokes a chuckle from deep in your belly which only results in more aches. With Karlach’s help, you finally sit up on the stone slab, and then stand. Your feet slough through the remnants of the battle, and the remnants of Orin’s armor and jewelry fail to catch your notice as he sprints up the stairs, Wyll following quickly behind. 

Gale stops at the precipice, out of your arms reach, staring. His mouth is open, and if you were on firmer footing you would have made a joke about him being speechless. You can see the tears in his robe, the scorch marks from where the battle has taken its toll on his person. The smell behind you suggests your evocation wizard had destroyed the very memory of this place with a pair of upcast Fireballs. You can see his mind working, his eyes darting to your face and then to your ripped leathers, your bare feet and your hair matted with blood and bile. There is an intense quiet as the others watch, waiting for the ice to break. 

“I’m okay,” you finally cough, though your lungs rattle with the effort. “I’ll need some help getting back but —” 

He closes the distance before you can finish your sentence. One hand frames your right cheek, the other tangles itself in your hair at the back of your head, and his lips are on yours. Your hands unwrap from holding yourself and clamber desperately to feel him, whining as fingers find his robes and bury themselves. The kiss is bruising against your cracked lips, and you are filthy from your captivity, but Gale shows no sign of minding. His words from the Underdark echo in your mind, and you realize that this isn’t about seeing you in battle but the fact that he thought you were dead and you’re not and you’re alive and you’re kissing him. The hand from your cheek slides down your shoulder and your arm and finds its place on your hip where he digs fingers into your side. It hurts, but it is a pain you find yourself desiring because it means he’s there in front of you and you are well enough to hold him. 

This was a far cry from his normal gentle touches, quiet murmurings, easy loving moments. You realize that you had heard the clatter of his staff against the stones, a sin he would have barked at you for performing only a ten-day ago. He had not broached your lips with his tongue, and you found yourself desperate for even the rotten air of the cavern, given the way he was pressed so firmly against your body. When you finally could bear the lack of breath no longer, you unwrap your fingers from his robes and press palms against his chest. A gentle push and he releases your lips and pulls back, refusing to move his hands from your nape and your hip. His eyes dart between yours with concern and fear. 

“My love,” he whispers. It comes out as a low whine. You feel your mouth pulling up into a soft smile, and your head tilts gently to the side. Your cheek presses against his bloodied wrist and you close your eyes, taking solace in the simple fact that the two of you stand together. Alone, as it turns out, as Shadowheart and Karlach and Wyll are on their way out of the temple to soothe their own wounds. 

You feel Gale’s arm slide along your cheek until his elbow is crooked around the back of your head and you are gathered in the safety of his chest. His neck stretches up until his chin can rest on the top of your head, and you both take several deep breaths until your hearts are settled. 

Pain and aches will fade, your cracked lips will heal, and the blood will wash away. Eventually. For now, though, you are whole. 

[we-do-bones-bracket]

Round 5 Match 2

Propaganda:

Harrowhark Nonagesimus (spoilers)

She is THE bone lady. The supreme bone lord. Her entire shtick is bones, as corroborated by multiple other characters throughout the books. She can literally do things with bones that no other necromancer is capable of, and that's before she [spoiler-fueled power upgrade].

Our girl decorates with bones. She gets turned on by growing someone a new bone arm. She's the greatest bone magician there ever was. She's so good with bones it makes god nervous.

she's a necromancer, specifically a bone adept and my god does she love bones. she can make skeleton armies out of powder and puppet dead people so that they look alive. she grew one of her frenemies a new arm just right there on the spot because why not. she's also super edgy and wears black all the time and i love her

Made soup out of her own marrow to make skeletons explode out of someone's stomach. Noone is doing it like her

She does bones, motherfucker.

WE DO BONES, MOTHERFUCKER

Skulduggery Pleasant (spoilers)

he's so we do bones he brought himself back from the dead. AND THEN changed his name to skulduggery to match with his skeleton lifestyle better. he's irish. he used to be great at motivational speeches but now he sucks so bad at them. his skull isn't actually his skull it's someone else's. he wears bespoke suits. he drives a variety of classic cars. he is an incredibly powerful wizard, but also just has a gun that he uses. he can speak Irish Gaelic. his ribcage HAS been used as a xylophone. he's 444 years old.

He's a skeleton in a formal suit and hat. He's a detective. He both carries a revolver and throws fireballs at people. For a long time the accepted reason he was a skeleton was "he's just to ornery to die". He wore someone else's skull for a while, complained that it was noticeably uglier, and was correct. He's sassy enough to trade insults with a teenage girl on a regular basis. How can he not win.

He's literally a living skeleton that does magic, is a detective, and drives around in a cool car. Vote for him

Walking skeleton noir detective, no one is doing bones like this guy.