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Thanks for the translation into English - Erika-xero
Solas & Adahla Lavellan: new growth.
I commissioned this piece from the unbelievably talented Hotwe, who is one of the most intelligent, thoughtful, deliberate artists I've ever had the pleasure of working with. I cannot express how grateful I am for the kindness shown towards my imaginary dolls at every step of this process. Thank you! <3
This is a paired piece to this one, also by Hotwe, which I commissioned immediately after finishing Inquisition for the first time. Once I finished Veilguard and filled out how the story ends for these two, I knew I desperately wanted the other half of this diptych.
Close-ups and lengthy notes on the incorporated symbolism are below the cut.
Every day is a Day when you're friends with Catholics
Leading me to believe every day must be even more of a Day when you're Catholic
and happy feast of the Holy Trinity
This is Tie, she is going to eat all of the notes
reblog to feed her notes
How is she doing this
@kittybroker
How much for this notes eating kitty?
Fiendish notes eating kitty here to devour all those delicious internet points! And you too can dig in, with prices as low as only $8.90!
An event in our dnd game this morning.
THM Mini Bang Reveal: Hollow Bones by Loquatiousquark & Sourw0lfs
Hollow Bones
Written by @loquaciousquark Tumblr | AO3
Art by @sourw0lfs Tumblr | AO3
Johanna Hezenkoss’s final journey from her doomed dinner party to the skull on Emmrich’s table has an unexpected stopover: inside Rook’s brain. Unfortunately, the irritating elven god who already lives there does not take kindly to his new roommate. With Rook abruptly jockeying for control of her own body, her relationship with Lucanis grows even more complicated. To their dismay, they find her new timeshare possession may be easier to navigate than their feelings—and considerably less daunting than naming them.
Full art below the cut
Heyyyy, it's me! I can finally share the project I've been working on for the last few months!
This is an idea I'd been tossing around since shortly after finishing the game last year, and this event finally gave me the impetus to dive into it. It was a double challenge for me (Hezenkoss has such a specific and strident voice, and I also rarely write straight comedy), but I had a blast writing it (again, Hezenkoss) and I'm super excited to share it now!
All eight chapters are up on AO3, but I plan to post some snippets here every few days with various chapter links.
Thank you again to the THM admins, especially Polka, who organized this event, and to sourw0lfs for the lovely art of Rook inviting in her new best bud! <3
THIS FIC made me laugh until my face hurt and awwwww a lot, go read it!
Imagine with me Cazador and Danarius meeting for monthly afternoon tea to bitch about their peers and the difficulty of cultivating white-haired elf slaves who are just so ungrateful. Cazador claiming he's put together a blood ritual that requires seven thousand souls and he's almost finished collecting; Danarius demanding proof and finally wangling an invitation to the Szarr Palace; the bloodbath that ensues when Danarius tries to take over the ritual.
I have long since decided that Fenris & Astarion would not like each other at all; this necessitates, of course, that Cazador & Danarius would get on like a house on fire.
I like the idea that they both recognize the other as a mirror & are both immediately aware the other will attempt to kill them/steal their ritual/consume their souls eventually, but still often have tea together anyway. A bit of "keeping your enemies closer," a bit of respect for an opponent, a bit of just wanting to experience the luxuries the other's world provides. I don't doubt the stories they swap would be horrifying, but I can't pretend I wouldn't laugh writing the banal little insults they'd pick at each other with, each thinking they were so sly and smart and subtle.
I did also have a flash of the final battle (all of them there in Cazador's basement, of course: Fenris & Hawke, Tav & Astarion, Danarius & Cazador) and both of them accidentally killing the other's master and getting absolutely furious about it. I don't think I could actually write it out, considering I am too weak for slaves confronting the internal agony of acquiring freedom through violence to play it strictly comedic the way the scene would need, but the movie in my head is definitely making me laugh.
Man, I was toying with the livid conversation that would come after & trying to decide if it would devolve into Fenris & Astarion angrily comparing cruelties to see who had it worse. I initially thought, "no way would Fenris ever share such a thing with a stranger, not a chance," but then I thought about Astarion's...everything, and I'm forced to reluctantly conclude that given enough time, Astarion can drag anyone down to his level.
Poor Fenris. Ha!
A few pretty screenshots from my most recent bg3 playthrough. This is Asphodel Lightskirt, a half-drow and human raised cleric of Sharess (mechanically Selune, for the Chaotic Good vibes and hisorical enmity with Shar). Being offended that Gale didn't think pleasure in all forms was as important as the Weave was very funny to me.
Unfortunately along the way Asphodel failed to keep her mind entirely her own, hence the more squiddy hair and wet purple lips after the Astral Tadpole.
The Astarion romance had some really gorgeous moments - that second-act hug, my heart.
Asphodel made a point of speaking to all the cats in the game - it's a religious observance! I hadn't realised Barsik was actually a cleric himself, that was delightful. I am also of the opinion that Kira of Sharess's Caress is a small avatar.
Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: “The Champion of Kirkwall,” he rumbles in a voice some might call impossibly deep. She’d parleyed with the Arishok; this man is not he. “Name’s The Iron Bull. Mind if I sit?” *** hey. hey guys. hey remember this post. hey. i did it i wrote the fic. also I put all my thistle fics in a series so you can Get To Know Her In Case You Don’t Already anyway i have a lot of feelings about this, more chapters to come, please enjoy <3
P.S. The voice actor is doing the audiobook
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FOR THE MEME: Meraad/Spite, Ambrian/Warden!Carver, Varash/Gale, aaaaand Asphodel/Barcus.
Alternate LI meme!
What excellent choices!
Meraad/Spite
(Qunari Shadow Dragon Warrior, DA:Veilguard; canon romance Davrin)
Firstly, I don’t think this could ever get physical. Leaving aside the whole ‘currently in Lucanis’s body’ aspect, I don’t see Spite having the Curiosity to go mucking around with that sort of thing, even in the Fade. Also, while Meraad is clearly either Minrathous or Vashoth enough to be relatively chill with magic and spirits, I don’t think she’s down to get freaky with Spite either.
HOWEVER I do think Spite is very drawn to her hatred for Solas! There are good and sufficient things to hate about his actions and their consequences, and Meraad duly does, but she also loathes him personally, and she enjoys loathing him to a degree some of the companions find a little disquieting. Lucanis points out that the way Spite likes her means that it isn’t purely righteous fury, or personal injury, or the judgement that Solas has to be stopped – it’s spiteful. Meraad shrugs and says ‘yes…? Sorry, did you think that’s news?’ So Spite likes Meraad, Meraad is not threatened by what he is in himself and finds him amusing company, but fundamentally I don’t think she sees him as real enough to love, exactly. If she were a little more impulsive there might be an outcome where she invited him to come hang out in her body instead of Lucanis’s, but she’s aware that’s a stupid idea that would not end well.
Ambrian/Warden!Carver
(Elf Grey Warden Mage, DA:Veilguard; canon romance Emmrich unti he liched out, then a distant future with Davrin)
This could work really well. I have no troubles at all imagining them hooking up after a battle, in the Grey Warden ‘we have survived and want to reassure ourselves about it’ way. My main misgiving is that without an external focus, something that isn’t Blight and death, Carver’s remaining background bitterness and Ambrian’s focus on duty probably fester until they become very silent and grim. I don’t think either of them, in themselves, could see a brighter future or lift each other up to a place that they have something good to fight for. Not even each other, really. They’re both in the trenches and they will stay there until they die, and if they are company along the way, it’s as much as can be hoped for.
Varash/Gale
(Githzerai druid, Circle of the Moon, BG3; canon romance Halsin)
This is hard! He had very high approval early in her playthrough, but she was more ambivalent about him, and the romance flag never tripped at all. He is certainly not one of the companions who utterly baffles her or whom she despises; while he lacks the self-certainty she takes for granted, he’s in a position where she understands why. He was an archmage and Mystra’s Chosen until quite recently, and he’s continually grappling with what that makes him now. She respects his learning, and they are both people who process things intellectually before emotionally. It could work, but Gale would need to do a lot of self-searching very quickly, which means deciding for himself not to pursue the Crown instead of Varash continually smacking his hand away like a toddler reaching for the lolly jar. I can definitely see Gale immersing himself in githzerai culture and spending a lot of time with Varash in Limbo – in fact, if I ever write the post-game fic I have notes for, he’s right there with Halsin and Varash (like he’s going to Plane Shift them to Limbo and not come too). In either scenario, he gets on famously with Varash’s mother, who is a librarian/archivist.
Asphodel/Barcus Wroot
(Half-drow cleric of Sharess, war domain, BG3; canon romance Astarion)
Jade. I have no idea why you picked him.
This could be so stinking cute.
So as a very obvious bastard, who was expected to be invisible and not embarrass the parents who deigned to keep her, Asphodel has a lot of understanding of the ‘this person whom I love doesn’t want me around’ situation. She’s fundamentally good-hearted, and not quite as frivolous as she tends to appear, but she is a cleric of Sharess. She flirts like she breathes, and Barcus is definitely the type to blush even though he hates that about himself. It’s a running theme at every rescue, and she’s good at judging when to back right off. She’s not even serious about it until she sees Wulbren brush Barcus off at Last Light. She buys him a drink, then later suggests they go upstairs together – she’s not the one he wants, but she wants him, and it might be nice to be close to someone. This wouldn’t work, but I think he’d remember it as a hideously embarrassing kindness. I can see it, eventually, as a brief sweet affair that helps Barcus regain some self-respect after Wulbren crushed him, or as something a bit more lasting – his steadiness and seriousness could be good for her, and her frank enjoyment of life for him.
Either way, when he says that “I'd kiss you, but neither of us deserves that” line, Asphodel definitely takes that as an opening sally, and he’s kicking himself for bringing up the topic in the first place. There is a fair chance he is smooched.
What Happens in [Thedosian City]
A Dragon Age Mad Libs
Exactly what it says on the tin. Choose characters and words based on the list below. Fill them into the 300 word there's-only-one-bed story below the cut. Reblog and paste your filled-in story under the cut for everyone to enjoy. (And try not to look at the story before choosing your words, it's more fun that way. It's mad libs!)
[Character A] (repeats) [Character B] (repeats) [Thedosian city] (repeats) [adjective] [adjective] [past tense verb] [adjective] [adjective] [animal] [facial expression] [DA bad guys] [present tense verb] [adjective] [plural noun] [DA bad guys] [obscure holiday] [past tense verb] [body part] [adjective] [adjective] [same adjective ending in -er] [adverb] [piece of clothing] [piece of clothing] [piece of clothing] [past tense verb] [adverb] [animal] [body part] [body part] [adjective] [body part] [body part] [Character C] [superlative]
It was a dour and smug night. Blackwall absconded quickly through the sweet street, heading for the rendezvous point. The sign for the Light Ferret Inn dangled precariously over a shadowy doorway, where a familiar face awaited him.
"You're late," Varric proclaimed with a frown.
"Apologies," Blackwall said. "Some Carta were following me and I had to leap them."
"I hate Kirkwall. It always smells like foul candles and it's full of Carta," Varric said, leading the way into the crowded inn.
"I can't believe these are the best lodgings we could find."
"Everywhere else is full up. It's Breakstone. Which is why," Varric said as he rocked up the stairs, "there's only one bed."
"I'll sleep on the floor," Blackwall offered, his wrist turning red.
"Don't be mild," Varric said. He opened the door, revealing a heavy room with an even heavier bed.
Varric smiled roughly and took off his sock and breastplate, leaving on his vest. He pranced into bed and gestured pectorially for Blackwall to join him.
Blackwall stripped down to his sheep-print underwear and joined Varric under the quilt. Varric bare hip was touching Blackwall's collarbone and it felt surprisingly pink.
"We shouldn't," Blackwall whispered, sliding his elbow down Varric's ankle. "You're dating Vivienne."
Varric moaned, and it was the worst sound Blackwall had ever heard.
"What happens in Kirkwall stays in Kirkwall."
A shocking and salacious tale indeed.
It was a hammy and stupid night. Zevran nitpicked quickly through the fishy street, heading for the rendezvous point. The sign for the Lovely Mabari Inn dangled precariously over a shadowy doorway, where a familiar face awaited him.
"You're late," Sister Theohild proclaimed with an ‘about to sneeze’ expression.
"Apologies," Zevran said. "Some revenants were following me and I had to sing them."
"I hate Amarantine. It always smells like fussy sheep and it's full of werewolves," Sister Theohild said, leading the way into the crowded inn.
"I can't believe these are the best lodgings we could find."
"Everywhere else is full up. It's Candlemas. Which is why," Sister Theohild said as she ate up the stairs, "there's only one bed."
"I'll sleep on the floor," Zevran offered, his nose turning red.
"Don't be sloppy," Sister Theohild said. She opened the door, revealing a lazy room with an even lazier bed.
Sister Theohild smiled goopily and took off her garter and hat, leaving on her mage stockings. She knocked into bed and gestured dejectedly for Zevran to join her.
Zevran stripped down to his dove-print underwear and joined Sister Theohild under the quilt. Sister Theohild’s bare elbow was touching Zevran’s knee and it felt surprisingly sanguine.
"We shouldn't," Zevran whispered, sliding his hand down Sister Theohild’s duodenum. "You're dating Danarius."
Sister Theohild moaned, and it was the numbest sound Zevran had ever heard.
"What happens in Amaranthine stays in Amaranthine."
Send me an OC + an alternate love interest for them and I’ll tell you what I think of the idea
FINAL — Match 1 / 1 — Scratch vs. Owlbear Cub
"Master, friend… I stayed with him until… until I knew he was gone."
Scratch is a dog and a potential Camp Follower and Attached Follower encountered in the Forest during Act One.
Scratch was the dog of Gomwick, who worked for Sword Coast Couriers. The pair were making a delivery to Baldur's Gate when a group of gnolls attacked them. Gomwick forced Scratch to flee, but then died in the attack. Scratch later returned to find his master and, thinking him merely injured, waited patiently by his side for him to wake. Scratch can be recruited as a camp follower and familiar.
"scratch propaganda because sometimes “best animal character” really is just “the one i was happiest to see every time i went back to camp.” there are funnier animals in bg3, and weirder ones, but none of them hit the same as having this dog slowly decide you’re safe and then become part of the camp. he just makes the whole game feel warmer."
"sorry but Scratch is basically the face of bg3 animals. he’s the one people immediately think of, and for good reason. he’s cute without being annoying, memorable without needing some giant gimmick, and the game clearly knows players will get attached to him because it keeps giving you little camp follow-ups instead of making him a one-scene dog and moving on."
vs.
"Like it here. Warm fire. Scratch reminds me of big brother."
Owlbear Cub is a Beast and a potential Camp Follower encountered in the Owlbear Nest with his mother during Act One.
The Owlbear Cub can be recruited as a pet Camp Follower and remains in the Campsite afterwards. The cub quickly acclimates to camp life. At some point after recruitment, a long rest is interrupted by a noise. If Speak with Animals is active, it is revealed that the cub had a nightmare, and Scratch is trying to calm him down. The cub also remarks that Scratch reminds him of his older brother. If asked about that, the cub says that he used to have an older brother, but his mother ate him. If the cub is a camp follower and Dammon survives until the game's finale, then Dammon transforms the cub into a battle-ready beast before the group arrives in the Upper City. Dammon feeds the cub potions to accelerate his growth and outfits him with steel armour, granting him the Dammon's Special Brew condition and transforming him into an Armoured Owlbear. The party can summon the owlbear to assist in the final battle using Gather Your Allies. If the cub survives the final battle, he appears at Withers' reunion celebration still armoured. The player character can pet him, tell him that it is good to see him, to which he becomes flustered, and ask what he is up to, though his answer is mistaken for dancing. The player character then has the opportunity to let a former party member adopt the cub: either Halsin, Shadowheart (if she turned away from Shar), or the player character themselves if they romanced Selûnite Shadowheart or Halsin in Act Three and went home with one of them. Regardless of who adopts him, the cub says that he likes the player character's choice and will go to them after the party.
"he’s one of the best rewards for always bothering to cast speak with animals. it matters in the cave, it matters at the goblin camp, it matters when he starts visiting your camp - you get way more of his personality and it makes the whole process of winning his trust feel like an actual little relationship instead of just “pet unlocked.”"
"the fact that the goblins looked at an owlbear baby and went “close enough. chicken” is still one of the funniest bits in act 1"
"if Scratch is camp dog, Owlbear Cub is camp disaster son"
Vote!
Scratch
Owlbear Cub
while I find this the supremely least interesting option, the notes are invested in making it a tie and I for one support this, time of reblog scratch is at 49.6% with 125 votes
Scratch is a great dog and I love him, but many games have great dogs. Only bg3 had my big-eyed cub, who earnestly reassures me that I smell delicious but he will not bite me.
(and I will never forgive Dammon for feeding him steroids and turning him into a war beast)
Palm Sunday, 2020
There is no triumphal procession today, no cheering mass of crowds: no press of bodies, sharing warmth and mingling breath. The streets are quiet and empty save a pair or two, walking carefully separate.
We do not stand outside waving palms cut from someone’s garden, the children restless, vying for the ‘best one’, ready to wave them, singing, and enter as Jesus enters Jerusalem.
See, he says, I make all things new.
Today, I am in front of my laptop (old as they are made to age, silver case greyed with shed skin, guilty crumbs among the keys). I forgot to brush my hair or dress and on Youtube, eight hundred souls are waiting for the livestream to start.
The Archbishop mouths a blessing: the sound isn’t working, and the chat is full of people repeating it like a response. Somewhere in the First Reading (“I did not cover my face against insult and spittle.”) they stop to fix what’s wrong, and begin again.
In my flat, two cats watch as I stand and sit, and kneel. I sing: My God, my God why have you abandoned me? and demand Crucify him! even though the priest is reading the shortened Passion by himself.
He looks into the camera, and asks us to lift our palms for blessing. I wasn’t prepared. I fling open the screen door and snatch up a weed from the courtyard (I meant to pull those out a year ago). Its burry seeds cling to my fingers. The root’s intact.
It isn’t much to lay beneath a donkey’s hooves.
Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof. Familiar words, never consciously learned, deepen their meaning now. Of course God is here, and always has been: still sometimes I forget to welcome him.
Come in, Lord: I’m sorry about the unswept floor and dirty dishes and all the dim corners where I put things I want to ignore. It’s no way to treat a guest, much less You: who roll up Your sleeves and get to work.
A mystery there in bread and wine and here, in the absence of either: physical touch is dangerous these days. I cannot take Your Body into my hands but Yours caress all the same. My throat is tight, a stinging under eyelids.
You enter Your Kingdom this year with no glad hosanna cry. We will stand at the foot of Your Cross six feet away from each other, a host holding on to gossamer threads of Wi-Fi. You will walk alone from the Tomb as ever and we will celebrate in electric alleluias.
Dear Polly, Tom wishes you, for some reason I can’t understand, to consider the human back
Tfw your life is already a huge mess and basically a countdown til evil fairies take your soul, your quartet is having financial troubles and then your Hero Apprentice sends you her great narrative with a very emotional and heroic and yet fanfiction-like scene (about the smooth, powerful muscles) that can kill people and break glasses with the power of Sentimental Drivel and you’re aware of yours and her power to make imaginary things real so you probably cannot avoid the scene (about the muscles) irl too—
Imo, people underestimate Tom and his ability to maintain his hell of life in a certain balance and even give good writing advice
MR. DON’T DO THAT TO THE BOOK IS THERE
Both Fire and Hemlock and NWN1 are old loves of mine, but when I read them in close succession I squeaked.