#is he a paladin?? we'll never know

[fael-draws]

Aridan my beloved

[senualothbrok]

Oath of Devotion

Summary: When you accompany Karlach to Avernus after the defeat of the Netherbrain, you assume it is the end of your romance with Gale. But you have a lot to learn about the meaning of devotion.

An exploration of the power of love and friendship, featuring Professor Gale, Paladin Tav, Karlach and Wyll.

Word count: 6.6k

AO3 link

Disclaimers: Non-18+. Mild hurt/comfort.

A/N: This fic is dedicated to @dekariosclan, who wanted a story about a Tav who romances Gale but goes with Karlach to Avernus. I hope this hits the spot for you!

The dialogue in the scene at Withers' party is canon but for a few additions- you can watch it here.

Thank you again to @inglorionamy-ammy, beta reader extraordinaire.

She barrels into you when you hold it out. It is a ratty, one-eyed thing, as bruised and battered as you look on this winding road through death and destruction. But Karlach’s face lights up like you are offering her a gold-plated battleaxe, not an abandoned rag of a teddy bear.

“Mate!” she screeches, and you lurch at the tackling force of her embrace. “You shouldn't have!”

You cackle, because every time it is the same. As the heap of discarded and deformed teddies in her tent grows, each one anointed with a name and cherished place next to the inimitable Clive, so too does Karlach’s excitement. When you found her the first couple in a deserted shack - whimsically named Sasha and Roberto - you assumed that the novelty would soon wear off. But as usual, Karlach's enthusiasm knows no bounds.

“He's so cute!” She shrieks as she draws back from you, squishing the mangled thing against her cheek. “He looks like a Gary. Yeah. That's right. Gary. That's what we'll call him.”

She beams as she assigns Gary a sacred place within the mound of teddies in the corner of her tent. Peering inside, you chuckle at the chaos of weapons, armour and trinkets littered around her. She pats Gary proudly on the head as she returns to you. 

“Never gets old.” You mirror her grin. 

“You’re the best.” 

She gives you a quick squeeze. You ignore the way her skin sears yours in her elation - nothing that a simple healing spell cannot fix - and clasp her shoulder with a laugh. When she gestures towards the blanket laid out on the grass and the bottle of wine beside it, you nod keenly, bounding over to lay side by side, staring up at the stars. 

You have always been a traveller, journeying from place to place to follow whatever orders you received from the Justiciars of Tyr. Camping out under the bright expanse of the night sky is as familiar to you as breathing. The road has always been your home. 

It is not that you hated returning to the Halls of Justice, your headquarters in Waterdeep, where you spent most of your formative years. But over time, it has worn on you, the rigid, tight-lipped Tyrran priests, the narrow-eyed magistrates, knights and lords who were as joyless as they were harsh. It was not that you did not love Tyr, that you did not believe in truth and justice and law and order. It was not that you did not wish to defend and protect. You just could not see why you had to be so miserable while doing it.

You have never been the sombre, stick-up-the-arse sort, the type to inspire hushed envy. You have always had your feet firmly on the ground, quick to laugh, slow to put on airs and graces. You are straightforward, run of the mill. With you, what you see is what you get.

You are ordinary. Unremarkable.

So you have known, from the start, that you would never rise up the ranks. You know you will never be a Justiciar of Tyr. And though that harrowed you when you were young and wide eyed - so determined to bring honour and glory to your parents as they toiled away on their meagre farmstead - you find it amusing now. With the stench of the House of Hope still clinging to your pores, you and Karlach guffaw at Raphael’s ridiculous singing as you felled him, the crash of Yurgir falling to the floor like a drunken toddler as she delivered the killing blow. Though the threat of doom looms around every corner, the fate of Faerun hanging over you like a noose, joy burns within you with a ferocity that you have never felt before. You have never felt more alive, or less alone.

But when Karlach tells you, in a conspiratorial, slightly bashful tone, about how tenderly Wyll removed a stray leaf from her hair earlier, she suddenly halts. Her face contorts as she sucks in a sharp breath. Her hand flies to her chest. You jerk up, stiff with worry. 

“It’s alright.” She grits her teeth. “It’ll pass. It’s alright.”

Scorching tendrils pulse out from her chest, serrated cuts threatening to rip her apart. You grimace, your fingers sizzling as they rest on her arm. She curls into herself, braced against the onslaught. You feel frenzied, helpless. All you can do is wait. 

“Karlach,” you plead after a pause. “We need to get you to–”

“Don’t,” she chokes. “Don’t even say it.”

Her fire is hurting now. You cannot help but flinch back. “It’s getting worse. I can’t just watch you-”

“Tav.” Her eyes are dark wells, flickering with flame. You realise that she is crying from the pain. “Don’t ask me. I won’t go back. I’m never going back.”

You shake your head. It is an argument you have had with her before. You do not wish to see the glee in your friend’s eyes shatter into rage, to hear her breathless from anguish rather than laughter. You do not wish to tell her what she does not want to hear. But you cannot bear it. You cannot allow her to suffer when there is a solution within her grasp.

“Ten years,” she spits out. “Ten years in that fucking place, with nothing and no one to call my own.” A fine mist rises from her heart as tears trickle down her skin. “I would rather die than be alone again.”

You notice that the flare of her chest is dimming, her breaths levelling as her features soften. But her resolve remains, as unyielding as her goodness, her loyalty, her zeal for life. You would not change her, not for all the fame and glory in the realms.

In that moment, you want to promise her. You want to tell her that she would not be returning to Avernus alone. But your mind is flooded by indigo streaks across a blue-green sky, the sandalwood scent of a brown sea, the spell of stubble on your skin. And you cannot speak.

So you take her hand, and you do not let go, even when your skin begins to blister.

*****

“How in the hells did you get everyone to clear off for the night?”

You are still adjusting to the stillness of your room at the Elfsong Tavern. After the whirlwind of panting cries and thrown off armour, the lurching groans of the bed beneath you, the calm feels almost unnatural. 

Your head rises and falls on Gale’s chest as he laughs. You feel it as a low rumble through you, your arm draped over the muscled grooves of his abdomen. The damp down on his skin tickles your cheek as your fingers weave upwards through his tangled locks. You are drunk on the taste and scent of him, heady and bittersweet.  It is a crackling bonfire on the coldest of nights, a bottomless ache that rubs you raw. You cannot get enough of him. You do not know how you will survive a separation.

“I confess, I did have some help from Karlach and Wyll.” He chuckles. “The three of us can be very persuasive. As can a generous budget for evening entertainment.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.” 

You flick your tongue playfully over his nipple. He tenses, moans, tightens his grip on the cheek of your ass. All at once, you are ravenous. 

“I live to impress you.”  

The kiss starts as it always does, tender with longing, a gentle caress. And then you are all hunger and need, wanting and grasping and seeking, drinking from each other with a thirst that cannot be slaked. Drowning in the sea of him.

It scares you. The all-consuming demand of it, the fierceness of the passion that swallows you whole. The way the yearning blazes through every part of you, breaking down the barriers you have fortified between your mind, body and soul. How completely you want him, as though he is the answer to your every question. A feeling like no other, for a man like no other. 

You have always been wary of reckless abandon. It was a lesson you learned early on in your travels. Love was a recipe for disaster when you could not guarantee you would be alive from one week to the next, or predict the movements of your missions. Love was a privilege you could not afford. Temporary delights sated the cravings of your flesh. You told yourself that was enough.

And then you met him.

“I’ve never felt this way before.”

You are not sure why you say it. Perhaps it is your body speaking, wrapped up in him, caught in a drowsy lull, fleetingly sated. He has expressed his love for you countless times, but you have not yet used the word. You are not sure what love means, beyond the orb and Mystra and the Crown of Karsus, beyond the Netherbrain and the threat of the end of the world. You see no half measures, no deceit or reserve in him. When he speaks of love, he means it.

But who is to say his love is not formed from desperation? That it is not just gratitude at unexpected companionship, a compulsion to seize every moment for fear that it might be his last? If you defeat the danger that threw you together, how can you be sure his love will endure? That you will not return to your vastly separate lives, as though it were all just a passing reprieve?

He smiles, glowing with the sheen of sweat, soft and hard and magnificent. 

“Nor have I. And I never will again.”

His sincerity still surprises you. The openness of his gaze, like a clear horizon. You could lose yourself in the promise of his love. But you steel yourself. You remember who you are, the life you have led. He jumps on your hesitation. 

“Do you doubt me?”

You try to sound wry, teasing.  

“We’ve both been around awhile, Gale. You’ve had lovers before Mystra. You know your way around a bedroom.”

He tilts his head. “I can't tell if that's a compliment or a caveat.” His brow flickers, the beginnings of a frown. “Is that a cause for doubt, or…?”

“No. Yes. Well.” You look away, and when you meet his eyes again, you see that he is not fooled. Sometimes, it is unnerving to be known. To be seen. “What I’m saying is… you could have anyone you want. You did before, and you can again.”

You cannot bring yourself to mention the future. To ask, even implicitly, what will happen if you save the world and survive. If this is to be a pleasurable distraction, a momentary delight, then you would not want to ruin it. Yet somehow, the uncertainty is a thorn in your heart. It hurts to acknowledge it.

His eyes widen, as though he is stricken, almost offended. 

“And I want you. Only you.”

He cups your cheek. There is an urgency there. Under the intensity of his gaze, you feel vaguely embarrassed. You had not planned to show him this. Your doubt. Your vulnerability.

But it does not deter him. Inexplicably, you know it never would. 

“I love you, Tav.” His voice trembles with conviction. “I've never met anyone like you. You're…extraordinary. Extraordinarily beautiful. Extraordinarily strong. Extraordinarily kind, and wise.”

He pauses briefly, and the curl of his upper lip sends a roiling through your core. 

“Extraordinary in your…unique talents.”

Your eyelids flutter as his fingers whisper over your hip, settling just beneath your navel. The catch in his breath mirrors your own.

“I’ve spent a lifetime waiting for you, and I'd wait a thousand more.” 

He says the words like they are easy. Like they are not oaths, solemn and harrowing - a sacrifice only made for the greatest reward. You struggle against them, and you are not sure why. You want to trust him, but you do not know how.

Because you have always suspected that love was never meant for the likes of you. The love Gale speaks of is the stuff of songs and sagas, fairytales of noble maidens, not gruffly scarred farmer's daughters who have made no mark on the world. And you know, with every fibre of your being, that Gale deserves immeasurably more than your mediocre offering.

Fear and hope flit across Gale’s features as he gazes at you, waiting. You know he wants you to reply. He needs you to tell him you feel the same. To declare that you love him with the same consuming constancy. That you are his, just as he is yours.

But you cannot speak. His turmoil pierces you, and you feel helpless, frenzied. So you crush yourself against him, and you answer with a kiss.

*****

You are grumbling at the rip in your breeches, your punishment for swinging at a rabid imp just a second too late. The sky is darkening like a blood clot. Karlach is jabbing at the caves in the distance where you will make camp, launching into ancient strategies and hoarded secrets. With her engine stabilised here, she is broader, defter, more self-assured. In spite of the smothering decay of Avernus, she radiates with life.

But you are exhausted. The stink of sulphur scours you, and you wonder if you will ever feel clean again. You long for the relief of lush greens and blinding blues, the caress of silk and softness. You miss the cool brush of the wind and sea. And beneath the murk and mire, a chasm has opened inside you that you struggle to ignore.

You are nodding and grunting as Karlach spitballs, and then you see it. A mangled lump by your feet. A soiled leather cover, clinging to shreds of charred vellum. You surge forward to pick it up.

“I reckon we'll be safe there tonight, but–”

Karlach stops, glancing over. “What?”

You sweep away the crust of dust and blood from its scorched surface. Nearby, a half-buried skeleton gapes in rotted robes. 

“A spell book. Useless now.”

Karlach stares at you. You can feel the weight of her appraisal as the memories assail you - dancing fingers and lavender lightning, intricate crow's feet adorning smiling eyes. Rumbling incantations, tingling on your skin.

You stuff the tattered tome into your pack and walk on.

***

You are flicking through the remains of the torched tome. In the glow of the dying campfire, you can just about make out the haphazard scrawl of its dead owner. You are disappointed by the sharp, messy strokes, so harsh and ugly compared to the elegant cursive you know so well. The sparse pages, devoid of elaborate diagrams and rambling annotations. Their emptiness winds you. Grief follows like a wave, and you fight against the shaking of your hands.

“Come on then, soldier. Out with it.”

You start at Karlach's voice. The force of her presence jars you back from the brink. When you look up, her eyes are firm and gentle at the same time.

“Out with what?” you blurt.

She huffs, picking at the carcass of the abyssal chicken you shared for supper. 

“Whatever’s got your goat.” 

Instinctively, you wave her away. But you gasp as she lurches forward, grabbing you by the shoulders. When you break free, she holds your gaze.

“You know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, right?”

You are stunned by her unexpected seriousness. She waits, expectant, stubborn. You sigh. 

“Of course I do.”

Her brows steeple. “Then talk to me. Because if I have to go one more day seeing you this fucking miserable, my heart might actually break.”

You raise an eyebrow, your last defence. “We came here to stop that from happening.”

“Exactly!” She throws her hands up. “So ‘fess up.”

You shift awkwardly. You suddenly realise how difficult it is to speak about your feelings, even to Karlach. Not simple feelings like lust or anger, amusement or delight. Not the stuff of throwaway comments, wry banter or gushing anecdotes. Those things come as easily to you as your friendship.

No. What you cannot admit is the gaping hole inside you. How it felt to be cocooned in his embrace. The miracle of joining your soul to his, as though you had always been complete. The boundless warmth of him nestled inside you, flowing around you, melting into you. The ebb and flow of home.

You remember the anguished panic on his face, shadowed in the setting sun. The realisation in his searching eyes as you knelt beside Karlach on the docks, paralysed by choice. The tight line of his soft lips as you looked at him one last time, haunted by the ghost of that final, unclaimed kiss, of everything spoken and unspoken.

If you speak of these things, they will swallow you whole. And you are not sure you can endure that, even after all the battles you have survived.

“You can talk about him, you know,” she says, as though she can read your mind. As though you never needed a tadpole to understand each other.

“Who?” A knee jerk answer.

Karlach rolls her eyes. “Who do you think? Do you know another magic man with big doe eyes who can ride you into the astral plane?”

You grimace. On a drunken ramble back in Baldur’s Gate, you had described in detail to Karlach all the places and ways Gale had taken you. You will never live it down. 

“Admit it. You miss Gale. That's what's eating at you.”

Part of you wants to shrug her off, tell her to drop it. But you know the doggedness of Karlach’s loyalty, constant as the sun. She jostles you, a motion meant to reassure. Her nails rap loudly against her chest, a clattering echo around the darkness of the cave.

“When we've fixed this baby, we'll go home. I'll find Wyll, and you'll find Gale. It'll all work out. You'll see.”

She sounds so certain. Once again, you marvel at her stalwart optimism, unwavering through the most unimaginable cruelties. You feel almost ashamed to burst her bubble.

“Karlach, Gale and I aren't…” 

You gesture uselessly. Your chest heaves. 

“It's not like you and Wyll,” you manage. “You guys are practically married. You know he's waiting for you in Baldur’s Gate. He knows you'll go back to him when all this is done.”

“And?” She frowns. “How's that different?”

You look down at the spell book in your lap. A sliver of vellum dissolves into black dust on your fingers.

“I left, Karlach.” You sound defeated. Small.  

You watch as Karlach’s features tighten in thought, then widen in realisation. Sorrow twists on her face.

“Soldier,” she whispers. “I never asked for–”

You straighten immediately. “You didn't have to. I wanted to." Your voice swells as you clasp her arm. "You're my best mate, Karlach. My sister. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you.”

For a moment, you think she might cry. Then she clutches you against her so tightly you can barely breathe. She does not smell of sandalwood and soap, but oil and sweat. And though her warmth is that of a blazing furnace and not the summer sea, you rest in it for a while. 

“He loves you, Tav." Her words are muffled by her embrace. "More than anything.”

“Maybe he did," you concede. "Maybe he was lonely, and horny, and scared. But I left. He’s probably given the Crown back to Mystra by now. She's probably taken him back.”

Karlach pulls back roughly. “You’re joking. You think Gale would go back to Mystra, after everything? After you?”

You shrug. “Well, if not Mystra, he could have his pick. Plenty for him to choose from.”

“I can't tell if you're being serious. Are you serious?”

She stares at you, incredulous. You draw in a shaky breath.

“It would never have lasted, Karlach."

You offer it as an explanation, but she seems more baffled than before.

“What in the hells are you talking about?”

An image of Gale comes to you unbidden. Poised and ready, all broad shoulders and billowing robes, threads of silver shining amidst the brown waves that frame his chiselled face. He flashes you that smouldering look, halfway between a smile and a smirk, as his lithe fingers whip up a storm in the distance.  

You toss the spell book on the ground.

"A man like Gale... a woman like me." Your jaw clenches. "What happened between us was a fluke. A blip for him. I probably did him a favour by leaving. No loose ends to tie up. Now he can move on. Greener pastures, and all that.”

Karlach stiffens and scoffs. “Now I know you can't be serious. Because my mate Tav isn't a total idiot who's completely lost the plot.”

You are taken aback by her uncharacteristic scorn. You are about to shoot back a reflexive retort when she halts. 

“Oh.” She blows out a long breath. “I get it.”

You twitch. “What now?” 

“It’s your blind spot." She nods smugly, as though she has cracked a puzzle. "Like how you drop your guard sometimes when you dodge.”

You do not follow. It does not escape Karlach's notice, the mounting frustration squirming beneath your skin.

“You can't see what's fucking obvious.” Her words are harsh, but her tone is placating. Patient. She sighs, heavy with affection. 

“Tav.”

There is tenderness in the way she leans forward, looking you straight in the eye. You cannot help but soften. To be mad at Karlach would be like fighting without your sword. You just cannot do it.

“This is a bloke who talked my ear off about how your armour brought out the green of your eyes.” She chuckles. “He just wouldn't shut up about you. How brave you are, how kind, how awesome you are. How the sun shines out of your arse. We used to leave him with Minsc just so we could have a break.”

She chortles, then notices your surprise. In mock defence, she raises her palms to you. 

“Look, I love Gale. You know I love Gale. And I adore you. But I really don't want to hear about your muscles bulging in the heat of battle. Or anywhere else.”

When you burst into laughter, Karlach beams.  

“Even Wyll couldn't take Gale's lectures. I think he even fell asleep once.” 

She bobs her head, lowering her voice into a husky baritone, her pointed finger wiggling in the air. 

“Do you have a minute? Because I need to tell you about how loyal and smart and caring Tav is. No, I must insist on telling you all about it. Now. Pish posh.”

You cackle, but you cannot stifle the ache that tears through you. What you would not give to have him here with you now, and not an absurd imitation.

“Gods, that man would not let up about you," Karlach groans. "Shadowheart almost threw up when Gale started talking about your musk. He almost melted Astarion’s brain, too, when he said your scars were ugly." 

You wish you had been there for these interchanges. You had no idea of them, beyond curiosity at Gale's unexpected affinity with Minsc. Now, the idea of Gale singing your praises and defending your honour makes you want to weep.

"A couple times, I even saw Lae'zel chuckle at the way Gale looked at you." She guffaws. "Lae'zel! Chuckling! She didn't even go off on one about istiks being pathetic. That's the power of love, right there.”

You are staring at your trembling hands. A whirlwind of hunger, hurt and hope is gathering inside you. You do not know what to do with it. 

Karlach is silent for a while. When she speaks again, her voice is solemn as a promise.

“He loves you, Tav. That kind of love doesn't just go away.”

'I’ve spent a lifetime waiting for you,' he had said, 'and I'd wait a thousand more.' You wrestle with the weight of his words, the weight of hers. You shake your head.

“I never told him, Karlach. I never got to say….”

The tears choke you. All at once, you cannot think, cannot speak. She takes your hand, and she does not let it go.  

“We'll fix me up, and then you can tell him. You can tell him everything.” 

**** 

“So you came back.”

His gaze darts away from you, his hands clasping and unclasping. He looks as nervous as you feel, stooping awkwardly to greet you like a half-stranger. But in the haze of candlelight, buoyed by the heavenly breeze of meat and mead and flowers, he glows. He is just as you remember him, a vision in purple and gold. Your every longing and memory made flesh.

“You look well.” He shuffles, a halting smile quivering on his lips. “A little singed around the edges, but well.”

You have never before felt self-conscious in his presence. But standing before him now, so close you could reach out and touch him, you are ashamed. You are embarrassed by your dented armour, your torn and dusty boots. Having just narrowly survived a group of cambions sent by Zariel, there had not been time for you and Karlach to primp and preen - not that the two of you ever wasted energy on that. You could not have leapt faster through the portal back to Faerun to answer Withers’ summons.

Appearances never mattered to Gale. He always saw through to the heart of a person, finding beauty in the alignment of a soul. It is one of the things you love most about him. But tonight, as the strange stiffness between you expands, you find yourself fretting over the bunching of your braids, your unpainted eyes, the fresh scars on your arms.

“So do you, Gale.”

Your voice is strained. Every muscle in your body yearns to spring forward, to talk to him with touch. But he stands apart, worlds away. Perhaps he is beyond your reach, after everything that has passed between you.

At the corner of your eye, Karlach throws her arms around Wyll’s neck with a squeal. You turn to watch as she lifts him up, twirling him around to a chorus of hoots and whistles. You grin and clap as they collapse into each other. You hear Gale chuckling behind you, that most soothing of sounds. 

When you turn back, there is a moment when you simply gaze at him. You notice the empty canvas of his chest, laid bare by the tantalising dip of his richly embroidered doublet. Freedom, plain and pure, radiates from the unmarred plane of his bronze-kissed skin.

You think of all the times you traced the mark of the orb with your fingers, your lips, your tongue, pressing your love into his wounds, covering them with the balm of your desire. Is it recognition that glimmers in his eyes as they meet yours? Yearning? 

He clears his throat. Perhaps not.

“I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Not sure where to begin.”

For months, you have imagined what you would say to him. All the doubts you would lay down, all the things you would confess. In the silence of your loneliest nights, you prayed and pleaded with Tyr for a second chance, promising, with a resolve as strong as your Oath of Devotion, that you would not waste it.

But now that he is here, words fail you. What you want, in this instant, is to listen. To hear the resonant song of his voice, the lilting passion of it. To soak in the gentle earth of his eyes, the gossamer lines of delight and wisdom that dance on his face. To bask in the miracle of him.

“Why don't you start at the beginning?” you ask.

He tilts his head. Then his jaw clenches, as though he is bracing himself.

“I promise I've not been moping around waiting for your return.” 

It jolts you, the hint of bitterness. You have hurt him, and maybe there can be no second chances after that. Perhaps you cannot make amends for who you truly are. 

But then his voice drops. His brow arches ever so slightly. There is the ghost of that sideways smile that has always driven you wild.

“Though of course I longed for it.”

It takes you a moment to register it. He longed for your return. Waited. Slowly, mercifully, he begins to tell you about his life at Blackstaff Academy. You savour the familiar enthusiasm that snowballs as he speaks, the lively flurry of his hands, a secret language in itself. When you learn that he is a Professor of Illusory Magic, hear him extol the manifold wonders of imagination and lament the ineptitude of his apprentices with wry affection, you grin so widely that your cheeks ache. 

You have always believed in Gale - his stout heart, girded with goodness, his keen mind, honed as the sharpest blade. It has always been your greatest hope for him - to see him content with the man he is, no longer shackled to a mirage of the man he should be. If this is the end of the road, if a stilted goodbye is all that lies between you now, it would be a torment. An agony you will carry with you for the rest of your days. But there is no doubt in your mind. You would suffer any pain for his peace. His happiness. 

It is like you are old friends when he asks about your time in Avernus. You tell him about the endless hoards of hunters trailing after you,  the running count of kills that Karlach insists on keeping (she is currently leading by three). He shares your disgust with what passes as food in the hells, your excitement about the blueprints you found. When you tell him about Zariel’s forge, where you and Karlach are heading to fix her heart, you can almost hear the gears turning in his mind as he furrows his brow. You explain that Karlach is making inroads with one of Zariel’s guards, an old acquaintance of hers who thrives on chaos. Now, it is just a matter of biding your time before you make a move. 

You are struck, again and again, by how much you have missed Gale’s laugh. The brightness of his discerning eyes. The plump arc of his lips curving into a grin. Lost pieces of yourself, restored for a fleeting night.

“I almost feel sorry for the devils in your path.” He smirks. “I mean, I don’t, of course. I’m sure they deserve it.” 

He leans forward. As the wind weaves through his hair, you catch the notes of leather, scrolls, and sandalwood. Home. You breathe deeply, storing up his scent. You do not ever want to forget it. 

“I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know?” 

Something reverberates inside you. Dimly, you recall the weariness in your parents’ eyes when you returned to their farm on your thirtieth birthday. “Not a Justiciar, no. Still just an ordinary Paladin.” When, a few steps down the dirt track on the day of your departure, you turned back to wave goodbye, they had already scurried back into the house. Relieved to see the back of you, to be done with yet another disappointment in the ceaseless toil of their lives.

But Gale looks at you with pride, a kind of awe. A hero, he says. Extraordinary, he once called you.

“I'll be delighted to introduce you to them when you return. That is, if you wish to return to Faerun. Or to me.”

There is a fullness in his gaze now. The brown flame that flares is unmistakable. It is a swollen, throbbing desire that roils through you, a desperate mirror of your want.

He waits. For all this time, he has waited. Standing together where it all began, surrounded by the symphony of those you cherish most, you see him so clearly. The depths of his devotion. The boundlessness of his love. His need and hunger, wrestling against his fear.

There is so much you want to tell him, so much of your soul you wish to lay bare. It is not too late, you realise. If you open yourself to him, he will embrace you, as though there is no past, no future. Only the endless horizon of the astral sea.  

“I want nothing more, Gale,” you whisper.

He heaves, a burst of relief, disbelief, elation. His whole body seems to vibrate, beaming with the bliss of a burden lifted, a mystery finally solved. The glorious end to a grueling journey, a terminus for which he has fought tooth and nail, trusting, against all odds, in a home where you would both come to rest. And when he steps forward, reaching out to you, you drift towards him like a star falling back to earth.

But then it seizes you. You stop in your tracks, bowled over by a compulsion to protect. An urge to throw yourself before him like a shield. This man, who has sacrificed and suffered for you. This marvel of a man, who deserves nothing less than the full measure of you. You cannot take away the victory he has won, against all odds, over the demons of his history. You cannot jeopardise the peace he has laboured so hard for. You could never forgive yourself.

You force yourself back.

“Zariel knows we're coming.” Your voice breaks. “She has an army guarding the forge.”

Gale’s features freeze in shock, the anticipation of pain. Your withdrawal is a blow. To hurt him so soon after hope - it is unbearable. But you must protect him. You cannot take the risk.

"We might not make it in. Or out. I don't want you to…I can't let you…”

He searches your face. You push out the words - a guttering plea, woefully inadequate.

“I might not make it back, Gale.”

There is a twisting in his face, a faltering as he considers you. Then his eyes widen, blazing with sudden understanding. He huffs, a gentle half-laugh, brimming with affection. It throws you, and when he speaks, his tenderness reminds you of all those nights when you lay beside him, wanting for nothing.

“Your caution is warranted. But believe me, I know enough about divination to promise you that our future is one worth looking forward to.”

You stare at him. Divination? Has he sought out your future, while he yearned for your return? Can it be that he has seen it, the two of you living as one, the answer to every prayer you feared to offer up to Tyr? Your breath hitches. 

“A crackling hearth. Two cosy armchairs beside it. A bottle of wine to be poured. And your battleworn boots, discarded at long last by the door. That is the life we have waiting for us. Believe in it, and it will come.”

You can almost see it. The fine veins of his forearm flickering as he turns a page. His moist lips tingling on your fingers as they trail through his beard. Beads of sweat like pearls, settling into the nook of his clavicle, shadowed in the firelight.

Desire takes you like a flood. You can no longer resist the tide of his resolve, the smouldering embrace of his certainty. All of your questions, all of your doubts, dissolve like mist as he strides towards you. 

His closeness is a spell. You are enthralled by the whisper of his hair against your temple, the caress of wine on his breath. The bold curve of his nose ghosts over yours, luring you closer. All at once, you are dizzy, falling into him. He draws back, teasing and playful, and when he laughs, you grab hold of him and crush your lips on his.

And then, all you can feel and smell and taste is him.

*****

He is stooped over his desk at the front of the lecture hall. Framed by intricate oak walls and animated portraits of Blackstaff legends, the fervent undulations of his cursive on the chalk board behind him, his beauty takes your breath away. His hair is longer now, lighter, adorned with gleaming clusters of white-grey. He is leaner, sharper at the edges, but somehow more solid. More true.

Squinting into a mass of scrolls, he is in a world of his own, muttering and gesturing to himself, a mixture of irritation, confusion, determination. Even from the back of the room, you can make out the wrinkle of his thinking line, that most endearing of expressions. You chuckle.

He barely glances up at the sound. He calls out with a practised weariness, a sternness that you have never heard before but instantly relish.

“If you're here for the lecture on the nature and use of simulacrums, you are disgracefully, appallingly late–”

He jerks his head, his gaze finally lifting towards you. When his eyes meet yours, he lets out a gasp that lurches through his shaking frame. And then he is sprinting, leaping through the rows of chairs, hurtling into you like a flaming comet.

Your bodies weave together, clutching, seeking, finding. His hot tears, his juddering breaths, the frenetic beating of his heart, echoing and melting into yours.

“You're back.” He cups your face, pressing his forehead to yours. “You came back.”

You lean into his touch, ravenous for more. All this time, believing you could not love him, doubting he could feel the same - now, all you want is to fill yourself with him. The musk of soap and bookdust, the taste of coffee and salt, the heat of his thrumming muscles flush against yours. You are dissolving into a flurry of kisses, each one more eager than the last, sealing your promise against his tear-streaked skin. You do not hold back. You will never hold back again.

“I love you, Gale,” you pant. “I've loved you since the day we met. I’ve spent a lifetime waiting for you, and I'd wait a thousand more.”

The awe and wonder in his eyes reflects your own. He is quivering, letting out tiny sighs of jubilation. As his fingers dance up your chest, your neck, the knots of your braids, you tremble under his touch, grinning at the certainty that you will never again go without it. 

“Where's Karlach?” he murmurs into your hair, as you run your nose over the stubble on his jawline, savouring the rough and smooth of him.

“She's headed for Baldur’s Gate to find Wyll. She’s promised to visit us as soon as they can.” You draw back. “That is, if you want me to stay here, with you.” 

He huffs, amused, incredulous. His fingers find yours. Time stands still as he raises your hand to his lips. When he plants a kiss along the scarred ridge of your knuckles, it has the passion and devotion of an oath.

“I want you to marry me,” he breathes.

You look at him for a long time. You will never tire of the sight. Yours is a love that will last a lifetime, a love greater than any legend or saga, stronger than any fairytale. This man, this miracle, forever yours, just as you are forever his. You have no doubts about it now.

Joy burns within you, a fire in your soul that will never fade.

You laugh, and you answer with a kiss. 

*********

Liked this fic? Check out my other work.

[towards-toramunda]

Thinking about more iconic lines from the show over the years instead of going to bed and created a list that is far too long:

- What’s my mother’s name?

- My best. Finally.

- I have so many flowers to bring to her.

- You were not born with venom in your veins. You learned it. You learned it.

- Don’t get on my ass about it! All I heard is that its pretty easy to do here thats all I took from what you said. (Bonus: its for the god of arts and crafts)

- At dawn, we plan.

- Doo doot doo doo doot doooo donuts!

- What matters more, the dream or the dreamer?

- Sleep well with your bad decisions.

- Nothing happens for a reason. It’s absolute fucking chaos.

- Patience is fine, but it can curdle into apathy.

- I’ve met the devil, thats not him.

- You never take copper. That's just kicking someone while they're down. You take silver if they're an asshole, and you take gold regardless.

- Time is one of my specialties.

- It’s entirely off-putting how disarmingly charming you are.

- How lucky I am to have had all of you. How lucky indeed.

- I smell like a crayon.

- I could tell by the bone structure and the contempt.

- I think I can punch ghosts now.

- Big moon, little moon.

- Pop, pop!

- I need chaos. I have faith in chaos.

- Molly said not to steal from happy people.

- I am going to tell you the story of how I murdered my mother and father.

- Smiley day to ya!

- I killed my family, I’ll throw you under a bridge.

- We’re on the moon bitch.

- She throws it. I shoot it. It explodes! NO STRUCTURAL DAMAGE! (FLUFFERNUTTER)

- I am all for faith, and I'm not going to pick a god. They can pick me. It'll be the first one that actually praises me and then maybe I'll fucking answer. I'll wait. They can fucking beg. And I will listen, which is more than they ever fucking did.

- I would like to RAGE!

- The worst thing that has happened to me has already happened.

- We're running; it's bad.

- You can reply to this message.

- Dagger, dagger, dagger.

- Opinions are like opera. Sure, you can listen to them, but why would you, really?

- There is no god that strides this world that I worship more than I worship your heart.

- I would like to live long enough to be someone else.

- Help, its again.

- Whoever it was, just put it back. I think they've earned it. Put it back.

- I’m fun scary.

- Sorry, babe. Gotta handle these ninjas.

- I’m the cleric? I’ve never traveled with a bunch of people I thought would die in front of me.

- He thinks I’m gonna go into the water for some fucking buttons.

- You are, at the moment, the luckiest person in Whitestone. Do you know why? Because you’re at the bottom of my list.

- You need me more than I need you.

- I protect him. He’s my boy. And I keep him safe.

- I made the earth remember him.

- Come correct or get corrected.

- Do not go far from me.

- Are you worth saving?

- How do I want to do this?

- Heaven to some, and hell to others.

- Fix him!

- Why do we tell stories?

- Do you spice?

- Listen you fucking jungle! I'm a paladin of the Wildmother. You're going to move or we're going to bust you wide open! We'll wreck this place. Don't make me fucking tell you twice!

- I am your god, long may I rein, eat of my fruits.

- Anybody can make lights. Anybody could send a message through a wire. I want to bend reality to my will.

- Would you like to talk before or after?

- What the fuck is up with that?

- To reach a hand down to somebody, they need to be beneath you! And I'm beneath nobody.

- The one eyed monster slayed my pussy.

- Time is a weird soup.

- I’m killing someone. Hold, please.

- Gold is a resource by which mortaldom climbs.

- Why are you so mean to me?

- Yours is the face I saw when murder entered my heart.

- This one time I saw a bug carrying a piece of bread that was like five times its size and he was carrying upstairs, like up and then he would turn, and then up, and then he would turn.

- I live as long as Whitestone lives.

- Vox Machina! Fuck shit up!

- I’m not disappointed, I’m just angry.

- Someone prayed for a miracle and there you were.

- We don't leave people behind. That's just the rule. You do not leave people the fuck behind.

- Call me child one more goddamned time!

- Finish it, Champion.

- I am of the Empire. But I am no friend to the Empire.

- I think it has been a long time since anyone has pointed out to you that you're a fool. Pain doesn't make people, it's love that makes people. The pain is inconsequential. It's love that saves them. And you would know that but you have none around you. You said so yourself, you surround yourself with lies and deceptions. And I wish for you, in the future, to find someone to mourn you when you are gone.

[amethystfairy1]

Hello!! :D

I was reading through some Traveling Thieves, and have a question regarding TT! Zed and Tango. If collars can be taken off by the person who has them under contract, why hasn't Zed taken off Tango's? Clearly he never intends to use it, and unlike avians, blaze-borns aren't required to wear them (since we know there are free blaze-borns like Impulse). Plus, due to his status as a master-smith, people would be less likely to challenge him on traveling with a non-collared hybrid.

Since Zed doesn't put any orders in the collar, and Tango isn't required to wear it, it just seems kind of harmful for Tango — as seen in "And I’ve got so much more to live for than what you think of me.” when the Paladins use it against him in order to harm him (presumably just for their own entertainment). I was just wondering if I was missing something about him not being able to remove it?

Also, I absolutely love your works and am so excited to see what's next! 😻

Ahhh, that's a very good catch! Yeah, you're absolutely right! There's no real reason why Zed hasn't removed the collar yet. He just hasn't...I wonder if that'll ever be addressed, hm? 🤔

Keep in mind that unlike a lot of the other master/slave dynamics in this AU, Zed actually did purchase Tango to do work for him. He treats Tango very well and doesn't ever force him to do work but nonetheless, he is a master-smith and purchased Tango, a blaze-born, because of his ability to manipulate fire. While Zed is a very kind master and doesn't ever intend to use any force with Tango, and has also developed a deep feeling of friendship as well as perhaps perhaps perhaps even more than that...he never bought Tango with any intention to free him. Not to not free him, either, but yeah...it's a little tricky, huh? We'll just have to wait and see how it goes!

I'm so glad you enjoy my works, thank you thank you!

[chaosgremlinmunson]

STWG 11-13-2023

Prompt: Paladin

Steve sat in the corner of the room waiting on the kids to (please) finally finish the stupid nerd game they were playing, he was looking intently at a notebook in his lap as he doodled, a knight-like figure coming together in a cutesy cartoon figure. He heard his name and glanced up seeing Dustin leaning over the table eyebrows furrowed at Mike.

“What do you mean he'd be a barbarian, clearly he'd be a paladin or a knight?! C'mon man, seriously your issues with Steve are getting ridiculous!” Dustin was shouting at Mike, his fingers pointing in his face while both of them steadily were turning redder and redder.

“Dude, no, seriously he's so dumb he'd be a barbarian, or maybe a tank. He knows how to hit, not how to strategize! Clearly he wouldn't be able to be someone in a military tank or who followed a religion. I'm surprised he knows how to tie his shoes.” Make snarked back smacking Dustin's hand out of the way.

Eddie was watching the interaction, his brows furrowed and looked over to Steve who was slowly slouching down in his seat, his eyes downcast. He promptly clapped his hands to get their attention.

“Mini Wheeler, your thief Fenizio is in the dark alley near the guards, you are trying to steal the goblet of Ariella, it's enchanted to heal anyone who drinks from it and you know it's being taken to the palace for King Lionos. Roll for stealth.” Eddie has a wicked gleam in his eyes and Mike looks slightly startled. Still, he picks up the die and rolls grimacing as it lands on a four, “and that's a miss!” Eddie crows, “the guard turns just as you reach into the pouch at his side, he grips your arm and throws you to the ground, his foot stepping onto your chest pinning you in place.”

“Shit.” Mike hisses, “I want to pull my dagger and slice into his ankle.”

“Roll initiative.”

Mike rolls the die again and it lands on a 6.

“Another miss. The guard leans down further placing you in shackles and raises you to your feet marching you straight to the palace and into the dungeon. The adventurers you're with are fading slowly from the poisons and now you've been captured. In the time it takes for you to escape the next day you come to find the entire party dead, you yourself walking into a trap. The adventure ends, and so does the journey for justice.” Eddie says leaning back on his throne.

“What the fuck Eddie?!” Mike yells, “why did you kill all of us, that's bullshit!”

Eddie rolls his head to look over at Mike with a pitying smile on his face, “Let this be a lesson, that man” he points in Steve's direction who's looking at the table shocked, “is a goddamn hero. You forget I was there when he did for you all?! You forget what he's done for everyone here?! He's a good man, and a damn good friend to all of you. Stop treating him like dirt, and until he tells me each and every one of you has apologized for treating him as abysmally as I've witnessed today, all of our sessions are over. I'll take the time to come up with new campaigns, but I won't play with any of you until this is fixed, and no, Steve will not be taking any of you anywhere. Birdie and I are gonna have a talk, and we'll both make sure we keep him occupied, constantly. Now shoo, and take the time to think about what you all did. Oh, and before I forget, Steve isn't taking any of you home today either, get in the van.” He turns his attention to Steve then, “Stevie, I need you to drive home for me, birdie and I will be there shortly. These kids are going home and the three of us are going to hang out, talk and have fun. Can you do that for me?”

Steve nods numbly, and stands leaving the room before any of the kids can say anything, he gets to his car and drives home. At least he knows someone cares for him, he'd never seen Eddie as angry as he just was.

[formulaorange]

2023 Fall Anime

This is honestly a loaded season full of new shows based on relatively new manga. Lots to look forward to

Spy x Family - Season 2 One of the most fun SJ series that have come out in a while. Season 1 was killer, high hopes for season 2.

Goblin Slayer 2 I didn't realize they were even making a second season. This was such a killer series. I'm really hoping they don't fall into the many mid-tier fantasy tropes out there in anime right now. I thought the appeal of the show was really Goblin Slayer himself and less about the lackeys along the way. So we'll see how it goes.

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End This is definitely one of my highly anticipated series. It's about an elf who was part of the Hero's party and her life after he dies. (Since elves live longer) Definitely a darker take on fantasy but has some really solid fantasy and adventure vibes.

Rising of the Shield Hero - Season 3 Season 2 was pretty disappointing and slow. While this looks like it'll be more fast paced, it does look like a tournament arc of sorts. I know some aren't a fan of that kind of arc, but honestly I think it's exactly what this series needs to pick things up again. We'll see.

The Faraway Paladin - Season 2 This was legitimately one of my favourite fantasy series. I thought it was really well written and didn't rush things like other series. I'm looking forward to this season.

Sequels/Continuations: Eminence in Shadow - Season 2 killer series with an anti-hero main character. Definitely worth checking out. After-School Hanako-Kun Hanako-kun spin off Dr. Stone Season 3 - Part 2 One of the best novel concept series with nothing else in it's genre to compare to. Definitely didn't drop the ball on the recent seasons and still worth watching. Dead Mount Death Play - Part 2 One that I didn't particularly enjoy, but has a decent sized manga following. Tokyo Revengers - Tenjiku Arc The continuation of the series. Might be just me but it feels like the series fell off after the first season. The Saint's Magic Power is Omnipotent - Season 2 A more mature take on fantasy isekai that just started to get into romance at the end of last season. A solid combo of shoujo genres. The Ancient Magus' Bride - Season 2 Part 2 One that I haven't had a change to check out yet but have only heard good things about. Hypnosismic - Season 2 a weirdly addictive musical/rap series. Unique characters and honestly solid rap battles. One I'll be enjoying. -- Related - Paradox Live - Music battle with what looks to be the same style of animation and solid character design. Definitely worth looking at if you're a fan of Hypmic. The Seven Deadly Sins: Four Knights of the Apocalypse A sequel of SDS. Looks like it could be a fun watch for the fans of the series. New:

Shangri La Frontier A new manga fantasy series. This may be a horrible way to describe but it is what it is - a new age SAO- full dive fantasy game. A gamer who only plays shit games, gets into a new massively popular MMORPG and is op. One that I'm excited for because it ticks all the fantasy game boxes I like.

Undead Unluck A relatively new manga series that gained a lot of traction in the last year or two. A gory action comedy that's super chaotic and a lot of fun.

Shy Brand new hero manga series about a shy girl and her anxieties and struggles going into the hero world who grows and gains confidence as she becomes a better hero.

Ron Kamonohashi's Forbidden Deductions This is a manga series that I have kept forgetting the name of so never got a chance to read but all the covers for the manga look phenomenal. Likely the anime doesn't do him justice but it is what it is. Essentially sherlock in anime form. A PI with issues and the wholesome police detective work together to solve crime. Other New Series: Green - Fantasy Pink - Romance Red - Action Purple - Drama The Kingdoms of Ruins A world where witches were hunted down by humans as science surpassed magic. A kid who was raised by a witch swears revenge on mankind. This honestly looks solid. The animations are very cool looking and the mc seems to be an anti-hero. Will be looking at this one. Under Ninja A well known manga series about modern ninjas. Definitely a unique series for this season. The Apothecary Diaries A historical medical mystery show. I've heard the name before and I've also only heard good things. Will be worth a watch. A Girl & Her Guard Dog The granddaughter of a crime syndicate goes to highschool out of town and the current young boss lies his way into the same school. Would be cute romance if it weren't for the fact she's 15 and he's 26.. Butareba - The Story of a Man Turned into a Pig What the title says. A girl finds him and the story goes from there. I'm Giving the Disgraced Noble Lady I Rescued a Crash Course in Naughtiness The usual light novel title. Honestly, doesn't seem as yikes as I initially thought, might just be harmless breaking the rules kinda thing. Could be fun, also a Capybara that strikes fear into people's hearts. My Daughter Left the Nest and Returned an S-Rank Adventurer Looks like a wholesome series where an adventurer finds a baby, raises it and she becomes so strong she's busy working all the time. Just a cute father daughter relationship in a fantasy setting about her wanting to come take time to see him but being caught up in OP fantasy battles. Ragna Crimson Dragons vs Humanity - a human and a dragon team up to destroy all the dragons. Action fantasy series. Berserk of Gluttony I honestly added this because I thought it was hilarious. Looks like a combo of knock offs - the Gluttony skill from Tensura (reincarnated as a slime) and the mc being called Fate with the main girl who looks exactly like Sabre. I'll be skipping but its' here so you know.

[saltedcaramelchaos]

Wonderlust theory thoughts !! Just finished the first episode :D (these are very disorganized but we just roll with it)

Troy's first bit is pretty cut-and-dried as far as I can tell, it's very much to show the character in his natural habitat, but we'll probably get more context as the series goes on!

Aside from the character, THE STEAMPUNK VIBES ARE SO COOL AAAHHH!! Using flipbooks as play-by-plays? Whatever that interview camera thing was? Using "cogs" as currency?!? YES PLEASE

Also, I see you May. Where were you going so quickly :eyes:

Runt and the street rats are so interesting to me,,, my first thought was "oh there's poor people even in the 'utopia'", but then they actually were stealing from uplanders iirc!

This implies that Doppler + the gang have some way to get up above, without running into the clockwork soldiers. That will definitely be relevant later.

Also it might end up being important who exactly it was that they were stealing medicine from

Come to think of it, why is it always medicine that's being stolen/transported? It could just be a way to show that the characters are kind and care about others, or it could be emphasizing a deep flaw in the system Reclaim runs on...

side note that moment when runt saw the moon and went "how'd they make that".... ough. I don't think that adds a dimension to the worldbuilding other than the character detail of "SHE'S NEVER SEEN THE MOON BEFORE and most people here probably haven't either", but wow, way to emotionally destroy me with a single throwaway line grizzlyplays

More steampunk gadgets yaaayyy! so far between the clockwork soldiers and the mites, all the security measures up above seem like they go WAY TOO HARD. Is it a way to control people through fear? Do they secretly know there's a whole society underneath? Is it to protect something, maybe those purple stones? Is it just the person making them being unconcerned if people die at their hands? I'm so sure this means something (<-"troy's dad is a villain" truther)

Blink's turn! This man has SO many secrets and I can't wait to learn all of them. What was his relationship to Aeon? Why is he here now? Why is he on the run?

More specifically, he said something to- maybe shopkeeper guy-? about how he can't stop helping people. It sounded like a personal-promise-slash-oath kind of thing. He's clearly already been through character development; in his conversation with Aeon neither of them were happy about how the other has "changed"... that's so fascinating to me, is he a paladin? He does this out of the goodness of his heart, sure, but he sure talks like he's at least emotionally bound to it. What could have happened to cause his adamance that helping people is the right thing to do, and that Aeon isn't doing that?

Speaking of Aeon, I 100% agree with the person that said she got to Troy first. It did strike me as suspicious that he had a whole chase scene with Blink Specifically and not anyone else

From what I caught, the vixens are pretty much the self-imposed policemen/tax collectors of Reclaim! I wonder what the general public thinks of them...

that's all I can think of at the moment! let me know if anything on here has been proven or disproven because I tend to ignore the very obvious details for the character/worldbuilding ones LOL

[sabre-tooth]

Tell me, Marvel. Tell me why you have to do this.

Tell me why you have to take a character who will, next year, have 50 YEARS of character development and strip absolutely all of the nuance and complexity out of him and boil him down to LOL IRREDEEMABLE MASS MURDERER FOR FUNSIES.

Tell me why you had to derail a perfectly good plot with Sabretooth becoming a leader figure to the mutant exiles to instead, him and a bunch of AU variants coming to kill all the mutants on Krakoa for literally no reason.

We have been through this. SO MANY. Times before and I think this is the worst fucking one. At least you used to let this man have some kind of motivation.

And Sabretooth was NEVER nothing but a fucking irredeemable mass murder. No matter what that SHITHEAD CHARLES XAVIER had to say about it.

When Sabretooth first appeared he was written as a sassy, savage and smart international assassin and killer for hire.

Then we found out that he had brain damage from military programming. This man is literally a fucking disabled war veteran. 

And you know what?? The worst fucking retcon that Marvel ever pulled was years ago. When they started ignoring that Sabretooth DIDN'T kill Silver Fox. 

He didn't kill her!! He and Logan didn't even have a poisonous history until Project X used brainwashing to turn them against one another!

And after finding all that out, when started to become an unhinged killer with no motivation and no joy he SOUGHT HELP FOR THAT. He tried to fucking medicate himself because it was too much! and when the medication wasn't working he sought help from the X-Men and they locked him up and told him he was irredeemable.

And after that he got used as a fucking government slave again! They put him in a shock collar and they enslaved him as their own attack dog.

And when he broke out of that control??? He fucking went after Weapon X to fuck THEM over!!! And he went back to doing hired assassin shit. He's not just a fucking pointless monster who has no motivation and kills for no reason. He kills for money. He kills for fun sometimes. But that's not everything of who he is and I'm tired of him having everything stripped from him.

The Madripoor arc where he was a crime boss hanging out with Mystique and in charge of the dark hand, that shit was great! That's how you use Sabretooth as a villain! He killed Wolverine then!!! HE KILLED WOLVERINE.

And then later, AFTER everybody got zapped with the "morality reverse" after he changed back, Sabretooth still decided to give being a hero a try. And he was good at it!! He was an excellent "Anti-hero" somebody to hang around all the other light side paladin and remind them that killing their enemies is EASY.

We could have had that for years. We could still have that. That was only 2017.

But no. BUT NO.

You retcon the whole god damn universe take away literally all of his character development STICK HIM IN A HOLE FOR YEARS, then promise us maybe MAYBE we'll get Sabretooth and The Exiles.

AND NOW THIS.

I HAVE FUCKING HAD ENOUGH MARVEL.

There are good ways to use sabretooth as a villain and this shit ain't it.

[vershl]

I'm not sure if you've thought about this yet, but what are all of the Gems' weapons?

I have a feeling that Knuckles' weapon is somewhat similar to Garnet's dual-wielding gauntlets, but what about the others?

Okay so my answer is going to be kind of limited atm, I haven't doodled any of the others, but I'll do my best to answer you!

---

Knuckles

So first off, yes, Knuckles uses his gloves just like Garnet's dual gauntlets. It's perfect for him, and I couldn't picture him using any other weapon.

Shadow

don't drool over him in the first doodle pls, i already did enough of that-- ahem

also GOD y'all love jacket shad, we'll keep it, we'll keep it. sheesh- i'll even put a star on the back to mirror sonic's gem and it'll be really gay and cute ANYWAY, read my stuff

Shadow's is still in the works, but I'm REALLY liking the scythe idea. With his game motif as well of course. I'm still not entirely sold on it, part of me is contemplating a spear for a nod to 'Chaos Spear'. The handle in the first sketch will remain the same for sure, but I may fiddle with the spear thought. I contemplated giving him a gun of course, but I don't think it really fits in the SU world.

Sonic

Now Sonic... I have NO idea to be honest with you. I'm going back and forth on whether he even has a weapon or not.. he has his speed and could fight like his normal game self. Then I get the idea of maybe he uses a sword? And I just now got the idea of spikes along his body, so when he runs fast/spins into someone it just shreds them. Adding on the thought of lightning abilities, don't know where that one came from but I like it-- I don't know, what do you guys think?

Amy

Amy uses her signature hammer, I'll definitely play with the design more. But yep, she gets to keep her weapon.

Tails

Tails is going to use gadgets/inventions to help in battles, and is the designated medic. He's not a frontline fighter.

Rouge

So I have two ideas for our stupid bat bitch; One, I dress her and equip her like a rogue, which would be sick I think. And two, dress and equip her like a paladin, sword and shield style. I'll play with both ideas, but I am leaning a bit more towards the rogue.

Silver

Gonna be real? Zero idea. I mean I COULD give him a sword.. or ice powers because he's a sapphire. But in SU we've never seen a sapphire fight, so we don't really know a thing about their abilities in combat. But yeah, could be cringe and have him be the ice to blaze's fire.

Blaze

Speaking of Blaze; She uses her fire abilities to fight, encasing her fists or feet in flames, she uses martial arts in combat. Hers was simple and easy to come up with, lmao.

[disgruntled-screaming]

I keep telling myself that I don't know what the original story of Voltron: Legendary Defender was going to be. I stand by those words. But there are some plot points that I genuinely think were in the first writers' room. The good thing is that those ideas were able to make it to the show.

Keith being half-Galran - it makes too much sense for Keith to be half-Galran in the show. The foreshadowing was really well done and the execution was great.

Shiro going missing/dead - I don't know which one it would have been, but most likely death to parallel Beast King GoLion's death. In the original show, Shiro's death was very emotional and tragic. He dies in his team's arms as he tells them to never give up and keep fighting for a brighter future. I don't know what Shiro's initial fate was going to be past season 2. I don't think we'll ever know unless we find the original writers and ask them. But passing the torch of the Black Lion's paladin to Keith was definitely what was supposed to happen.

Eventually coming back to Earth - I'm not sure what happened in the original Beast King GoLion, but I do believe Team Voltron coming back to Earth was important enough to stay in on the writers' cork board.

Lance and Keith's relationship getting stronger - I'm not a Klance fan, I actually don't ship any ships in Voltron anymore except for my own selfish one. But Keith and Lance's relationship getting stronger was definitely something that was left on the table. The show started with Lance disrespecting Keith, and obviously them bickering. The show ending with Keith and Lance having a mutual respect for one another was important, and much needed for the show. They needed to work as a team, after all.

Edit: Silly little me forgot that I DID watch the first episode of Beast King GoLion, and I remember Earth getting destroyed by the Galra in a genuinely horrendous way. It was actually horrifying.

[solowinx]

where do specialists come from? my theory

i was scrolling on reddit today and i have found a post about specialists. the comments were full of ppl invested in their lives and backstories. one user in particular pointed out that we actually don't know where some of the specialists come from. so i decided to show off my theories. im obviously gonna talk about Riven, Timmy, Nex and Helia since we already know where Sky, Brandon, Nabu and Roy come from. THIS IS MY OPINION/THEORY, FEEL FREE TO DISAGREE

Riven

this man is from Magix. ive read some fanfictions that headcanon him as an inhabitant of some misterious far planet but honestly i disagree with that. your personality doesn't need necessarily to match with your home planet. i think he comes from a poor neighborhood of magix city, probably because of his punk style and the jokes he makes about the prince Sky. i dont even get why some ppl exclude the fact that some of them could come from Magix anyway. it's a planet like the others after all so of course someone is gonna live there

Timmy

this one is pretty complicated. i personally headcanon him as a solarian, mainly because of his slightly tan skin and then his hair reminds me Radius' one. i tend to exclude the theory of him being from zenith since he doesn't speak like tecna (they both talk about technology very often but she uses idioms related to technology, he doesnt), then he doesn't dress up like tecna and finally he doesnt act like her. if we base zenith culture over season 6-7 we discover that ppl tend not to show their emotions on purpose while timmy is more shy than "emotionless" (he even met tecna's parents in season 7 and you can notice the difference between them).

He doesnt come for sure from Magix, or at least from Magix City. in season 1 during the episode of "the day of the rose" we discover timmy isnt at Magix City because he went home so that means that his family doesnt live there...

Nex

idk about this one. since he used to be a paladin and paladin school is on Linphea he could PROBABLY come from there but he doesn't give off linphean vibes. he might be an abroad student. someone headcanons him as andros citizen but if it was true they would have mentioned it like in the case of roy. at this point we'll never know

Helia

he is from Magix as well. his grandpa is literally saladin so they probably all live in Magix. in the comics he was friend with flora since childhood but since it doesnt make sense with the canon (in general comics arent canon) he CANT come from linphea

[kismetconstellations]

@sockdooe You absolutely do not need to apologize, ever, for "dumping" rants in the tags of my posts. I happen to love reading everything you have to say, and look forward to these "dumps", every time I see your username pop up in my notifications.

People are allowed to write and headcanon whatever they want (Looking at you, "Black Paladin Lance" AUs), but, it's concrete, indisputable canon that the Black Lion and Shiro had the strongest bond of any human Paladin and Lion pair.

Yes, Lance was the first to have a connection with a Lion, and the Red Lion came to Keith's aid of her own volition, just as the Green Lion likewise rushed to protect Pidge. That in no way negates just how much focus was given to building Shiro's bond with Black, and establishing him as the Paladin she chose, because they understood, valued, and trusted one another. Sure, the Black Lion absorbing Shiro into her inner quintessence might very well be a reference to the episode of Neon Genesis Evangelion where Shinji Ikari's body is similarly absorbed by his EVA Unit. Goodness knows there are plenty references to NGE and other anime scattered about. Shiro's Season One/Two design seems to have taken some heavy inspiration from Guts- shock of stress-induced white on a head of black hair, strong, square jaw, prosthetic arm, distinct lateral scar across the bridge of his nose-

-and he was originally intended to marry Roy Focker.

Nevertheless, it speaks volumes that this ancient, sentient force looked at a traumatized, battle-scarred, yet still extraordinarily gentle man with blood on his hands, sins to atone for, and feelings of self-loathing and desperation to prove himself worthy, prove that every fight in the Arena and every life he took to keep himself alive, every precious second of time he was able to steal back from Death's inescapable grip meant something if he can do good with all of the evil that has touched him, permeating the very essence of his being, and decided Him. He's the one I want. To the point of holding onto whatever she could of him after he died.

And, as much as this show tried to undermine that with Keith and the Clone Shiro being able to pilot the Black Lion, and later showing the previous Paladins also being preserved by their Lions' quintessence- inside of Haggar/Honerva's mind, despite the fact that she killed them outside of their Lions, because Season Eight's writing is an absolute convoluted mess- it will never, ever diminish the fact that Shiro is so special, not one, but two magic-powered sentient spacecrafts adopted him as their Person.

(I do wish the Atlas's interior wasn't so dark, dreary, and dull, though. They couldn't have given this poor man a ship with white walls and turquoise accents, or something? It had to be dingy gray and Galaxy Garrison orange?)

Even if we ignore the fans who hyperfocus on Lance and Keith, determined to turn them into the ultimate tragic heroes/victims of the universe/hyper-competent badasses/supremely empathetic Hearts of the Team (sorry, but that title belongs to Hunk. It will always belong to Hunk)/discount Shiros, the treatment of Shiro by the fandom has, since its inception, been dubious, at best.

He's a cheerleader for Keith/Lance. He's an obstacle to Keith/Lance, so we'll pair him off with Allura. No, wait, never mind, he's twenty-five, and therefore, absolutely off limits to every single one of the Paladins, and Allura, as a potential romantic partner, and anyone even slightly okay with one of these ships deserves to be harassed and indiscriminately labeled a "pedophile", including Shiro's voice actor. (We'll completely overlook, of course, that Keith is also a legal adult, and shipping him with any of the younger Paladins should, by those standards, be verboten, as well.) Shiro is the "Token Gay" who we'll cast aside in favor of Keith and/or Lance, but throw him the meagerest scrap of bone in the form of pairing him off with either the (dead) man who canonically ended their relationship on poor terms because he couldn't handle the emotional strain of another one of Shiro's medical scares, or the piece of glorified set dressing with no personality to speak of who Shiro barely interacts with, and whose name is never once spoken onscreen. Wait, no, Shiro's actually not gay enough (because he's not a mincing, flamboyant stereotype?), so we'll complain that we were "queerbaited" over a ship featuring a canonically heterosexual teenage boy that was never, ever going to happen.

And, the fans who do gravitate toward Shiro tend to sexualize him to the extent of discarding- or fetishizing- his trauma to get him naked and railing (in the most Out of Character portrayal imaginable), or being railed by, their character of choice as swiftly as possible.

Disgusting.

I can only hazard a guess that Shiro has been afflicted with so much extensive, irreversible trauma, fanfiction authors who are simply writing for fun with the intention of living vicariously through these characters don't want to have to confront the ugly, less than titillating reality of that trauma, or so much as touch it with a thirty-nine and a half foot pole. So, they choose to pretend it doesn't exist, or gloss over it, in exactly the manner the show, itself, does. This includes his illness, which, if we take Lauren Montgomery and Joaquim Dos Santos at their word, was written into Shiro's character from conception, along with his homosexual identity.

"I think a lot of his backstory was created independently, even from his sexual orientation, ‘cause that was just a part of who he was but it wasn’t necessarily a discovery moment. So the vast majority of the conversations of his backstory were around figuring out what else is there, the illness and those aspects of it. Him being gay was just something that we had always wanted to do with him from early on."

And, in the case of fans who try to turn their favorites into Shiro, which is one of the strangest, most inexplicable phenomena I have ever encountered in all of my years on the internet in fandom spaces- why designate a character as your favorite if you desperately need them to be someone else, instead of accepting them as they are?- they have to be slapping a prosthetic on those characters purely for the cheap angsty aesthetic.

Which is to be expected when people steal distinct traits from another character to apply to their favorite like a patchy, uneven coat of paint layered over top of what was already there. They don't understand why that other character had those traits, to begin with. They, presumably, see Shiro with his scars, his personal history with Sendak, Haggar, and Zarkon, the three most powerful and intimidating villains in the series, the physical and emotional evidence of the experimentation and torture Shiro was subjected to while in captivity, his relationship with the Black Lion, his irreplaceable presence and role on the team as a firm but gentle guiding light, and decide, "That's unique and makes him stand out as someone special and important. My favorite deserves to be special and important, too! So, I'll take what he has and give it to them!" It really is like a kid wanting another kid's favorite toy because their own isn't "good enough", and I can honestly say I've never seen this sort of behavior in any other fandom. If Lance and Keith fans, as they tend to be the prime perpetrators, recognize that Shiro has innate narrative significance and desirable qualities, why not adopt him as their favorite, instead?

It all comes back to the fanbase's rampant ageism, the ages of the fans, themselves (you'd have to be pretty darned young to think a twenty-five year-old is old enough to be a teenager's "dad"), and, I think, the fact that Shiro is a conventionally masculine gay man, rather than a skinny twink, so it isn't as easy to project more effeminate characteristics onto him.

Lance uses skin masks and moisturizes.

Shiro either doesn't sleep, or wakes up inhumanly early to do push-ups.

Characters with more reserved, subdued personalities also tend to be cast aside and written off as "boring" in favor of overtly loud, flashy, mostly comic relief ones. There is nothing wrong with preferring one or the other, and both have their place, especially in stories aimed at child audiences where a bit of levity is necessary after watching characters go through high stakes and intense emotional strain. But, it has always been my opinion that people who overlook the guarded, noble, self-sacrificing leaders who voluntarily bear the weight of the world on their shoulders have poor taste. That sort of frank dismissal demonstrates an unwillingness to peer past the supposedly "uninteresting" surface and see what makes these characters pillars of leadership, virtue, and heroism, in the first place.

Like reaching out to a kid the rest of the world has given up on, and offering him a helping hand.

Like being willing to paint yourself as a bloodthirsty savage and attacking a scared friend to keep him out of a fight where he surely would have lost his life.

Like offering encouragement, guidance, and support to the people in your care, so they come to trust you as a friend, and confidante.

And, never hesitating to protect someone who can't protect themselves.

Takashi Shirogane is beautiful, inside and out.

The "fans" who don't understand or appreciate that, and especially the ones who think this show could have possibly stood to benefit from killing him permanently, have objectively rancid opinions. And, should almost definitely steer clear of trauma survivors, because they fail to understand what Shiro means to us as a representation of the kind of person we all could be if we're willing to never give up on ourselves, and try.

Let him be showered in all of the tender forehead kisses, get to sleep on the comfiest plush mattress, and be surrounded by an army of soft and fluffy plushies. Forever and ever.

[renatogpadilla]

THOUGHTS ON CR3E92 IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

- FIRST EVER CR CROSSOVER EPISODE?!

LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

- Dariax said "This Flute doesn't play itself anymore." Doriax canon offscreen?

- "After all the handjobs, this is what we mean to you?!" Damn... I mean, I'm glad Opal and Cyrus found a way to relieve stress, Gods know they're both stressed, but damn.

- Ending the episode on Opal Twice-Crowned hitting phase 2 of the boss fight was EVIL!

I love it, @quiddie ! I feel like when this gets animated in a decade or so, we'll get this fight and the fight with Otohan Thull overlayed one on top of the other for a Season Finale or something!

- Raven Queen going two for two on Rogues turned Paladin! Which is great, but now I have to replan Morrighan's moveset for that imaginary Critical Role fighting game that only exists in my head (somebody ask me about it please, I NEED to talk about it!) but at least she gets some Smite options out of the Bunny Hop command jump!

- Dariax is a Bard now too! That's honestly so perfect for Matt! And the fact that both Sorcerers and Bards are Charisma Casters makes me feel like the Synergies are gonna be great!

- Oh, Dorian, wonderful blue king... That's a lot of strength that your Dice will never agree to let you use for anything cool. I missed you SO MUCH!

- Speaking of that imaginary CR fighting game, this just solidified Opal as a puppet character. The tag combos with Ted would be WILD! Think Kenshi from MK1!

- Fy'ra Rai... Just... FY'RA RAI! Gods, I've missed Anjali at the table! Her memory with Opal, her tug-of-war with her thoughts about her sister... THE LAVA WHIP! Nothing sexier than Monks! Except a pissed off Wizard or Druid.

- On the other side of the table, I LOVE the moment the girls all collectively remembered they had to break the news to Frida... Oh, that's gonna hurt BAD!

- Anyone else noticed that Ashton is BURNT OUT and laying on the ground after his Titan form wears off, but Fearne just says she's really tired and just KEEPS GOING? Ashton is DONE for now, but Fearne needs to keep moving forward... Fuck, I love these two.

- Orym... Just... Orym. If you take a level in Barbarian after this, I wouldn't blame you.

- Side-Note: This means Dorian DID get Orym's last message before they went to the moon! He just didn't/couldn't answer! Which means, through the static and everything, Dorian COULD hear Orym! And now he's probably gonna get this message once the battle is over... Jesus, if they get to Zephra and Keyleth went to the Lodge next to the lake that's gonna be a problem...

- Side-Note Side-Note: Anyone else hoping to GOD that Allura called the Nein to help? Cause Beau and Caleb were involved, but now it feels like an "All Hands on Deck" situation, and we could use Kingsley's small army of pirates right about now...

- So much happened this episode between the grieving and the flashbacks and the rolling for handjobs that I didn't have time to process the splinter cell of Xhorhasians that split their soul in twain until I woke up... Opal may have forgotten, but maybe Ted hasn't? Though if they're the same person, maybe they both forgot...

- Aabria, the corrupting of the Memories was FOUL, I LOVE IT!!!

- Somebody needs to tell Essek about the soul-splitters. In fact, let's get to that while we deal with Ashton too!

- IF OPAL DIES, AMY CAN COME OVER AS DENI$E! Like, I don't WANT her to die, but Westruun isn't that far... 👀

- I just realized this is the first ever FULL episode of CR without Sam at the table... Fuck, man, when it hurts it hurts. Glad Marisha brought back the fan.

"Forgot the Consonants?" "No Letters." OUCH, MISS RAY, WHAT THE FUCK?!

- Raven Queen Paladins hasting themselves first thing in the fight. Vax is back, and he's a Bunny Girl now!

- I like that the Crownkeepers are a two-way Overwatch reunion (McCree Cassidy and Symmetra) and a three-way Persona 5 reunion (Yusuke, Ann Futaba and Akechi).

- Everything was so fucked this episode that everything with Liliana got knocked to the background for me, THAT'S how good it was!

- The SECOND Evoroa said Ludinos was on Exandria I knew EXACTLY where he would be! Now we HAVE to get the Nein involved, right? Unless the bastard makes the city float again...

I cannot WAIT for the next episode! And if Sam brings a new character when all the groups are together, it would be SPECTACULAR! I'm guessing he's going to play one of the moon races, because that just sounds cool... Either that or Tary!

[kipperlillyforpresident]

I received an anon ask which I found to be... well, really interesting. I agree with a lot of the points they make. But I also disagree with the way that they've presented their argument in many aspects.

I considered not responding to it, but it's my policy to answer all asks which are sent in good faith (at the moment, at least). And I could just answer it as-is, but I didn't really want to do that either.

So, instead I'm answering it with this disclaimer. Opinions of anonymous users do not represent the beliefs of Kipperlillyforpresident.tumblr.com, etc etc. With that out of the way, here is the ask:

I want Gorgug to go to Artificer class and try to explain to Henry why his nephew wasn't worth saving, but Aelwyn was. Ragh was. I want Fabian to sit alone at his house because Mazey won't talk to him, and think about how his last words to Ivy just reflected his own thoughts about himself, because he'd never learnt anything about her. Fabian is a vindictive, vain, sex obsessed rich kid with no person in his life who wants to really listen to him. I want Fig to see Henry in the corridors on her way to Paladin class, not meeting his gaze because doing so she would have to explain to him that his nephew wasn't worth the justice her Goddess promises. I want Riz to go to a psychiatrist – not Jawbone – and I want him to talk about the fact that he hates a version of himself so much he couldn't possibly allow her to live, and he in fact relished in the idea that she'd never come back. I want Lucy to come back and hear what The Bad Kids did in her name, and I want her to absolutely tear them a new one. I want her eyes – that they all thought of as sorrowful and deep while never having paid attention to them before her death – to be cold and unwelcome as she looks them up and down and asks them to explain their actions. I want her voice to raise well above the level of what any of them had envisioned of her when they studied her desecrated and fragile body in the woods. I want her to ask them if they knew where Mary Ann lived, or if Reuben had any siblings that would miss him. I want her to hear the podcast episode written about her by a person having a wild guess based on her lifeless form and a handful of anecdotes from her now deceased friends. I probably won't get it, but it's nice to imagine.

So to start off with: I really do like the premise of this. Dealing with the consequences of rage is the part of the story - both in TRG and TBK - that I'm most interested in. And a part of my frustration with the narrative is that I don't think we'll be getting any consequences along this line, and that everything is going to be tied up in a neat bow for a happily ever after.

I do agree/find myself interested in almost all of the scenarios you present. Gorgug and Henry in particular - I think that really needs to come back and haunt the narrative. My personal headcanon is that Henry strongly recommends he take dual credit classes for Artificer at the local community college, because he knows he'll be unable to be fair to him.

And god, Fig and Ankarna! How is she going to justify redeeming the one who caused all of this conquest and rage, yet brutally and cruelly torturing people who were infected by it? It's really compelling. Although for the Riz thing - I don't think he'd willingly go to a psychiatrist at any point, lmao.

And Lucy, holy shit, Lucy, I hate so badly how TBK talk about Lucy. I always talk about her being "dead wife montage", because that really does feel like how she's been treated. Going into battle and murdering all of her friends and claiming its "for Lucy"??? It's really dark. I do NOT want Lucy to like TBK after everything is over.

All that said... I really don't enjoy the way anon has characterized Fabian here. I've been on the record as being deeply uncomfortable with how he treated Ivy. And I want him to face consequences for it. I want him to realize he never learned anything about her, and that the fact she rejected him is almost certainly a part of why he hates her so much. I want him to remember that we "don't talk about women like that"!

But to call him a "vindictive, vain, sex obsessed rich kid"...? It doesn't fully sit right with me. I suppose that it's not entirely wrong, but it's leaving out a lot of aspects of his character. It's painting him exclusively in the most negative light possible.

This ask is treating Fabian - and TBK in general, I suppose - in the exact same way that most of the fandom treats TRG. Exclusively focusing on their worst aspects and ignoring any extenuating circumstances.

And if I'm going to crusade for TRG to be treated with more respect in the narrative, then I suppose my natural inclination is to do the same for TBK. Not that anybody is mandated to do so. You're allowed to engage with media however you'd like, and if fully despising TBK is what brings you the most enjoyment, then go ahead. But it's not my own philosophy.

I appreciate anon for sending this ask, because it did make me think about a lot of stuff! I hope that everybody interacts with this post in a respectful manner, but if discourse happens, it happens ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[senualothbrok]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you so much @sorceresssundries for the tag! Always flattering to know that someone is interested in what I'm working on 💜🫂

I have started working on a fic for @dekariosclan centred around a Paladin Tav who is in love with Gale but goes with Karlach to Avernus after the Netherbrain is defeated. Currently imagining it to be about the power of friendship, and Gale and Tav learning to trust in each others' love despite uncertainty, self doubt, time and distance.

Here's what I got so far!

***

She barrels into you when you hold it out. It is a ratty, one-eyed thing, as worn and tattered as you feel on this winding road through death and destruction. But her face lights up like you are offering her a golden chest, not an abandoned rag of a teddy bear.

“Mate!” she screeches, and you lurch at the tackling force of her embrace. “You shouldn't have!”

You cackle, because every time it is the same. As the heap of discarded and deformed teddies in her tent grows, each one anointed with a name and cherished place next to the inimitable Clive, so too does Karlach’s excitement. When you found her the first couple in a deserted shack - whimsically named Sasha and Roberto - you assumed that the novelty would soon wear off. But as usual, Karlach's enthusiasm knows no bounds.

“He's so cute!” She shrieks as she draws back from you, squishing the mangled thing against her cheek. “He looks like a Gary. Yeah. That's right. Gary. That's what we'll call him.”

She beams as she assigns Gary a sacred place within the mound of teddies in the corner of her tent. Peering inside, you chuckle at the chaos of weapons, armour and trinkets littered around her. She pats Gary proudly on the head as she returns to you.

“Never gets old.” You return her grin.

“You’re the best.”

She gives you a quick squeeze. You ignore the tinge of heat through your tunic. When she gestures towards the blanket laid out on the grass and the bottle of wine beside it, you nod keenly.

***

Tagging (no pressure): @theletteraesc @practicallydeadinside-blog @astarioffsimpmain @ponder-the-orb and anyone else who wants to share!

[meredoubt]

I am...thinking about the kind've warrior who would get tasked with patrolling the halls of the Grand Necropolis.

To honor the dead and corral the spirits in the most significant building in Nevarra, right. THE thing that sets Nevarra apart is their relationship with death. Cultural identity established. So. The Nevarran Pyramid, the Neveran Notre Dame. Extremely hallowed, societally significant (and you probably get stunts pulled there all the time, and people who aren't represented in it's tombs bitching about taxes going to it) and yet...probably a tourist trap on the outside/most accessible levels. Like you get all kinds of freaks, history and nerds and outsiders and people like me, wanting to visit the Parisian catacombs, right. You probably have people being foolish and offensive and too into it.

And you know what? I thought my Rook would be Dirge-and it may still be, we'll see how he reads to being in DA lore, safe from Bhaal-but what you might actually get, is.

Pyramid Head looking guy. Big fuck off sword, never shows his face (I'm picturing the first time he takes off his helmet people are like, wait. he's hot??? This fucking clown??)

A little bit Templar in function. So the Paladin thing still works in that it's about supressing the undead, that's why I thought Dirge at first. But I think he's a general fan of death, versus murder specifically. I don't know that he makes bodies, but he is enthused about them.

Who is actually, depending on when he joined the Mourn Watch, FULLY committed to the bit of being a bit of a Jolly Gravedigger/Tour Guide/Big Sword Murder Guy. Like if he's an adult man who has excelled at this career path, he has to be 1. weird (I know, as someone getting into the death industry) 2. really into it. 3. Cheerfully goth as fuck. I think if a shovel or a scythe was an option as a weapon, he'd choose it.

That, to me, reads much less Dirge, and a little more. What. Dante Devil May Cry? Like if Pyramid Head was eating cheese pizza and this wasn't what he got a degree for, but it was a job he's really passionate about?